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morganski-19 · 1 year ago

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I Don't Know Which Way's Home

Chapter 3: Awkward Fumblings

ao3 link, Part 1, Part 2

September 1985

Julie sits on one of the picnic benches in the community area of the trailer park. She has one of her many notebooks open to a page she’s been working on for weeks. It’s a pencil drawing of the short story she wrote a few weeks ago. An empty field with serene trees and clear skies. The perfect background for the forefront of her story, if she could just figure out how to draw it.

One of the trailer doors slams and a girl around her age goes around her trailer, heading to the gate with a small food tray. Her name is Max, Julie thinks. She and her mom moved into the trailer down the street from her a month or two ago.

She shuts her notebook, the ideas of how to depict the scene she was drawing not coming to her anyway. It’s weird how the scenes created in her mind can get twisted when she tries drawing them on paper.

When Max is walking back to her trailer, now with an empty tray of food, Julie walks up to her.

“Hey,” she says, interrupting Max’s movement. “I’m Julie, I live two trailers down from you.”

“Cool,” Max replies with a cold glare. “I’m Max.”

“Were you feeding your dog?” Julie was never good at making friends, she doesn’t even know why she’s talking to Max at all. But she knows everyone else in the trailer park and they’re either too old to be friends with or too young. There’s just something about Max that she thinks might click.

Max rolls her eyes slightly. Julie can’t tell if she’s annoyed with her or something else. “Yeah, he’s out back behind that fence.”

“Oh, I’ve seen him a few times. Wondered when he showed up.” They stand there awkwardly for a moment, Julie slightly swaying with the book held in front of her. “It was nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Max says with an attitude that means she probably didn’t mean it.

Julie gives her a tight-lipped smile before walking back to her trailer.

She doesn’t talk to Max for a few more weeks. She sees her a lot, just from sitting out on park benches and sometimes at school. But she doesn’t go up to talk to her again, Max clearly didn’t like it the first time. Doesn’t blame her. She caught her at a bad time, probably, and that made her not want to talk to Julie again. It just happens sometimes, most of the time.

The trailer door slams shut again after a screaming match Julie could hear between Max and her mom. Mainly Max screaming, but about what Julie doesn’t know. After living in a trailer park for so long, she got used to shutting out the noise of the other trailers. They all have the thinnest walls known to man and sound travels fast, but it’s better for everyone if they learn to tune it out.

It’s bad enough living in a small town where everyone seems to know everything, they don’t need to be hearing what’s going on inside everyone else’s homes.

Julie expects Max to go behind her trailer to where her dog sits behind the gate. That’s where she normally goes after slamming the door shut. But instead, the table creaks as Max sits across from her on the other bench.

“What are you doing,” she asks bluntly.

“Drawing a scene from one of my stories. I can’t seem to get the tone right.” Julie erases the people she had drawn in the foreground, they weren’t right.

Max nods, looking unsure of why she’s even here. After their last interaction, Julie can’t help but ask the same question. “What is the tone supposed to be?”

“Tense. The story is about a family that seems normal to the reader, but there’s something off that they just can’t place. Until it ends and you find out that the dad was never actually addressed properly because he was a ghost the whole time.”

“Spoilers much,” Max jokes. It’s surprising, but not unwelcome. “That’s a cool concept though.”

“Thanks,” Julie puts her pencil down, deciding to try and figure out how to fix it later.

“Did you hear anything before, when I was yelling at my mom?” Max blurts out, eyes darting away when asking the question.

Julie shakes her head. “I try not to listen to what happens in other people’s trailers. You end up hearing things you regret. Like, a lot of sex.”

That makes Max snort. “I get what you mean.” There’s a comfortable silence that falls over them this time, like they bridged a gap that Julie hasn’t ever really before. “Could you show me your drawing, maybe I can help you figure out what to do.”

“Sure,” Julie shrugs.

. . .

“What the hell are you doing here, dingus,” Robin scolds him as he walks through the door of Family Video, head throbbing. “You said you had a migraine, get out of here.”

Steve winces when he fully opens his eyes to the bad fluorescents. “I called out last week for an obvious fake sickness, Keith won’t let me do it again, even if it’s real.”

“You look like you can barely stand, Steve. Go home. Actually, no, I’m calling Eddie to come pick you up.”

He waves her off. “No, no. It’s fine. I just need to drink some water and take more painkillers. I’m at the end of my last dose. And I drove over here just fine.”

Robin glares at him, her jaw clenched. “Fine. But if I see you pushing yourself too far across the limit, I am calling Eddie and helping him push you into his car to take you home.”

“I’ll be fine, Rob, promise.” He unscrews the cap of his water bottle and swallows two more pills.

“And I’m turning off some of the lights, I don’t care.” Robin walks to the light switches by the break room and flips the switch where every other light turns off. Steve hates to admit it, but it did give him a little bit of relief.

Compared to his other migraines, today’s ranks at about a three. He was able to get out of bed and stand, so that automatically puts it underneath an eighth. And when he takes his pain meds on time and makes sure to stay hydrated, he can make it through one six-hour shift. He probably would have called out if it was any longer, but he can do it today.

And luckily for him, Thursdays tend to be slow so he’s able to lean on the counter for the majority of his shift while rewinding tapes. A tedious job that Keith would yell at him for not also doing returns while they were rewinding, but he left an hour ago so Steve could do what he wanted. Within reason.

Halfway through his shift, there is a slight crowd of people as the school day ends always bringing in a few kids on their way home from school. The excess noise from the groups of teens makes Steve’s head throb more, or at least makes him notice it more. He takes a few deep breaths in between customers, trying to keep a less pissed-off face on. It might not work but he tries.

As the crowd weans down, someone comes up to the counter, dropping a tape on it getting Steve’s attention.

“Hey, Steve,” a familiar voice he can’t place says. “Don’t take this the wrong way but you look like shit.”

When he lifts his head, he sees Julie, staring at him with more concern than she probably wants to. They haven’t talked since last week when she showed up at his house. Not like he didn’t want to. But he didn’t have a number or an address to go to and waiting to see if he could catch her after school sounded creepy. So, he was waiting for her to come to him, but she didn’t, not yet. Maybe now he could say something, apologize for not trying to get her to stay more.

“Hey,” he says, perking up a bit. “How are you?”

She shrugs. “As good as I can be. Uh, this might be insanely overdue. I was finally going through some of my old stuff and guess I never returned it.” She slides the tape across the counter.

Steve picks it up, scans it, and immediately gets rid of the late fees. “You’re good.”

“What,” Julie looks at him confused. “I know I’ve had that tape for at least three weeks, there should be late fees.”

“For most people yeah, but the joys of knowing someone who is willing to cheat the system is no late fees.”

“And risk his job just to let the kids walk over him,” Robin interrupts, coming behind the counter. “Not you, the other kids,” she turns to Steve. “Go take your break, I got it.”

“There still a rush, Rob-.”

“And I can see you struggling from across the store. Go. Take. Your. Break. You absolute dingus.”

Julie looks at them confused. “I know I said you look like shit but are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he brushes off.

“No, he’s not. He should be home but he’s an idiot who decided it was a good idea to come to work with a migraine.”

Steve rolls his eyes as he goes to grab his lunch from the break room. “I’m going to eat in my car, be back in fifteen.”

“Hey,” Julie calls out to him when he leaves the building. “I don’t mean to take up your break, but I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. I know you didn’t mean for last week to go like that. It wasn’t fair for me to lash out like that.”

“It’s ok. I’m sorry you couldn’t stay longer.” He sits on the hood of his car, motioning for her to sit next to him.

She does. “Me too. I really hate it at that house.”

“You know you’re not like banned from coming over. I mean you don’t if you don’t want to. But as long as you don’t stay the night and don’t break curfew, Hop said it was ok for you to come over.”

She takes a moment to think about it. “I think I would like that.”

“I would too. I always wanted a sibling,” he adds on, trying to show her that he cares.

“I did too,” Julie smiles. “I’ll let you get back to your break, hope your head feels better.”

“Thanks. See you around.”

Steve eats his sandwich from his car, taking a moment to lie in the back seat, throwing an arm over his eyes to try and give them a break from the light. When he gets back into the store, it’s a bit better, but still there. It’s one of the many life adjustments he’s had to go through after four years of going through the same thing over and over again, but he’s slowly getting used to it.

“I saw you talking to Julie on your break, you two good?”

“I think so, she said that she might come over sometimes.”

Robin smiles. “That’s good. She seemed like a good kid. We talked a little bit when you were having your absurdly long talk with Eddie and even though she was kind of reserved, I could tell. Like she just gave me that impression, both in the night before and in that morning. What’s wrong you’re giving me that look when you feel stupid asking a question.”

“I haven’t made a friend under normal circumstances in years, Rob. How do I even go about this?” Steve asks, suddenly hit with the realization that he knows so little about her.

“I don’t know, things. I mean I know you said you didn’t get to talk that much when she was there the last time, so maybe just use what you learned last time and go from there. Also, if you think these are normal circumstances then I hate to break it to you, but it is not. Bond over your shitty father. Get the awkward getting-to-know phase out of the way. Something”

Steve shrugs. “Maybe.”

. . .

Julie knocks on the door of the Harrington house for the second time in her life, but this time she is supposed to. At least she hopes. All her life she’s felt that wherever her father fucked off, she would never be accepted. Especially when she learned the circumstances of how she came to be, there would be no chance. She half expected that when her case workers finally located her father, he would give up the rights so fast and stick her in the system for two more years until she ages out.

Which in the grand scheme of things, wouldn’t be the worst since she can leave in a few years. But she would do anything to get out of that house and can’t imagine that the next one would be any better.

But there was a small glimpse of hope that she couldn’t help but start to believe in. Steve genuinely seemed interested in knowing her, interested in trying to have some sort of relationship. And he wanted to try too.

It wasn’t surprising really, he was the only family she had that actually seemed interested at all. Someone she didn’t even know about until a month ago, and never met until the previous week. But in the short amount of time that they actually talked, she just had a feeling that this might work out.

“Give him some credit,” Chief Hopper said to her before dropping her off at the foster home. “There was nothing he could do to stop me from bringing you back. I’m not going to tell you what to do with your life because God knows that teenagers never listen to me, but just give it some thought.”

As Steve opens the door and invites her back into his house, she can’t help but think that what he told her was right. She wasn’t mad at Steve, and she should give them both a real chance to do something before jumping to conclusions. Both of them deserved that.

“So,” Steve starts, leading her to the living room. “This is going to sound really stupid.”

“Why do I not like the sound of that?”

He snorts. “I don’t really either, but it’s all I got. We don’t know that much about each other, so I figured we could speed run some of those really stupid icebreakers just to get it out there.”

“To get the awkward stuff out of the way and start to find things in common. I get it.”

“Yep, exactly,” he nods. “So, things about me. I just turned twenty back in August. I’m not in college and don’t plan to be. I work at the video store, as you saw. My favorite color is green, I told you some of my hobbies. And that’s all I got right now.”

“Very interesting information,” She says sarcastically. “My turn, I guess. I’m sixteen, my birthday is in January if you didn’t catch that already. Uhm. I don’t have a job, but I wouldn’t mind getting an after-school one soon to start saving up early. I would like to go to college sometime, but I’m not sure if that would be entirely in the cards right now. My favorite color is blue. And like I said, my hobbies are writing and drawing, but I also like to read a good bit too.”

“What do you want to major in, if you did go to college? Do you know yet?”

“Writing, I think. I’ve been doing it for a while now and I really like it, and English is my favorite subject so I definitely want to do something with literature.”

“That’s really cool. I wasn’t the greatest in school, I tried to pay attention but a lot of the subjects just were hard for me. But I always did the best in history for some reason. Or gym if we’re counting that as a real subject.”

Julie laughs. “Wow, you really were a jock.”

“I like sports and for a time, it was the only thing I thought I was good at.”

“And now? What else are you good at?”

Steve sinks back into the couch, taking a second to think. “I like to think I’m a good cook. I’ve been alone really since high school, so I learned how to cook. Probably not the best in the world, but I like doing it, and it’s fun.”

“What do you mean by really alone?” She asks. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to. I was just curious.”

He laughs, like what he just said wasn’t incredibly sad. “I forget that not everyone knows. My dad always went on a lot of business trips, but for the first few years since I was born, my mom stayed home. Then she found out about his cheating, and went with him. After that there were nannies, none stayed for more than a few years, my mom always found something about them that pissed her off. When I started high school, she stopped hiring them. Both of them agreed that I was old enough to be home alone.”

Not like she’s too shocked, but to hear that her suspicions were right about Steve’s parents never being home hurts. She can’t imagine what it was like living in a home where the two people who are supposed to take care of you are never there.

“When did your mom find out about the cheating?” She’s hit with the sudden thought that it might have been around the time she was born, and she couldn’t help but ask.

“I was four, maybe five.” It takes him a second, but his eyes widen, and he sits forward, mouth agape. “Holy shit.”

“That’s probably not a coincidence, is it?”

He runs a hand through his hair. “It would be insane if it was. I thought she wouldn’t have known, that he kept it from her too. She must have found out somehow.”

Guilt hits her. He lived an empty life because of her.

“I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault. It’s his fault, always was. He cheated on my mom constantly. On the rare chance that they were home, the screaming matches were intense. She knew of them, of course she knew about you.”

“I’m still sorry. You didn’t deserve to be left alone because your dad is a piece of shit.”

He huffs. “I’m sorry too.”

“How did you meet Robin? I never got to ask the other day.” She changes the subject to something different, hoping that it will bring them out of the weird mood that they landed in.

“We worked at the same summer job. Scoops Ahoy, the ice cream place that was in the mall before it burned down. The one with the really terrible sailor outfits.”

Julie winces. “I remember those. They were pretty bad. And Eddie, when did you become friends.”

“Spring break, during all of the craziness that happened.”

She nods her head, letting him ask a question about her before they just start talking. It’s weird but nice at the same time. They strangely get along well and the conversations, while slowing at some points, keep picking back up. It’s feels natural, like it’s not forced.

But then five o’clock hits and she has to head back to the foster home. He offers to drive her, and she accepts, loading her bike into the back of the car. The car ride isn’t awkward, even if they don’t talk the whole time. It’s comfortable, it’s safe.

In the short amount of time that she’s known Steve, she can tell that he’s safe to be around. It’s just the feeling she gets from him. She’d be lying if she said it wasn’t surprising, but it’s not unwelcome.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Steve says, rustling in his trunk when he helps get out her bike. “I wanted to give you this,”

She takes the box. “A walkie-talkie?”

“Yeah. I use them to talk to the kids I look after and their range is like unbelievably far. So I figured you could use it to talk to me, if you wanted. Or to shoot a warning that you’re coming over. Just something.”

It’s weird, but she accepts it. “Ok, thanks.”

“Yeah no problem,” he shrugs. “I’ll see you around.”

. . .

When Steve doesn't know how to feel about something, he tends to just not feel anything about it. Like this whole situation about his father, he doesn’t know how to feel about it.

His father is a cheater and has been for pretty much Steve’s entire existence. There was no secret about that. He’s made his own opinions about that a long time ago, and just shuffled it all to the part of his mind that he doesn’t like to think about too much. Because it hurts too much to think about it all, so he’d rather not.

But the truth about it was that Steve was used to how his dad was. He was used to the way he treated Steve. How there were barely any phone calls unless he did something that would affect his dad’s image. No birthday or holiday calls, barely even making an appearance during Christmas or Thanksgiving anymore. Just an empty house that was never really lived in enough to even have memories created, let alone any semblance of a life.

It was just Steve, and he was fine with that. As long as he was the only person that got hurt.

Even that logic was flawed as his mom has been hurt for years. But that was different, she was an adult. And even though Steve knows that there would be no way that his mom could leave without her reputation being ruined, she still has some responsibility for how he was treated. He never blamed her, but she wasn’t without blame.

So Steve didn’t care that he was hurt, as long as he was the only child of Richard Harrington that was. And for the majority of his life, that was true. Except it wasn’t.

And Steve had no idea how to feel about that.

When Steve wakes up the day after Julie came over again, it’s like all of the hurt that he has tried so hard not to feel has come back to the surface. All of the hurt that he’s become numb to has festered enough to make his skin crawl again. The hurt that would make him want to act out and seek attention from people who never really cared about him, but he wanted them to.

He stares at his ceiling, thinking about all of the times that he’s woken up just like this. Empty house, bare walls, not a soul other than himself to talk to. More mornings than anyone should have been able to experience. Where it happens enough that the numbers get so large there’s no point in counting them anymore.

Steve knows that there are people out there that care about him. Knows that there are people that love him. His friends and the family he’s made through the past experiences of his life loved him and he loved them. But the fact that he had to make a family outside of his own just to be loved the way he wanted hurt.

Parents are supposed to love their kids. At least that’s what it feels like. From what Steve’s observed through his friends and even in his job, families are supposed to love each other. Fathers are supposed to be there to play catch in the yard, moms are supposed to be there to provide a hug that cures all tears. They are supposed to be home, not shove their kids off on someone else.

It took a long time for Steve to realize that his family was broken and he couldn’t fix it. That one more party wouldn’t get his dad to notice him, for his mom to come home. Making the team got him a phone call because it looked good on them, not because they were proud of him. Getting rejected from college hurt their image, so they cared. Their son refusing to get a job other than part-time at a video store hurt their image, so they cared. There was a scar on his neck that looked suspicious enough that it made people talk, even if it wasn’t true, but it hurt their image, so they cared.

Not one time did they ever come to visit him during his many hospital stays. Not once did they even send a card. The birthday gifts stopped after the Beemer, and even then it was rare. They didn’t care about him, just what he could do for them.

Steve was just so tired of acting how people who didn’t even really care about him wanted him to. So he wasn’t going to anymore.

He gets up and ready, heading straight to his car without a second thought. Driving with a half-baked plan that is made out of a sense of rebellion and just generally wanting something. Steve wants something with someone for the first time in a long time, and he’s tired of holding himself back from it. Even if his dad would hate it, he’s stopped caring that he would.

“Steve,” Eddie asks confused when he opens the door. “Everything ok?”

Steve nods, letting himself in. “Yep, everything’s fine. Great even.”

“You sure?” Eddie looks at him with a concerned face. “You seem really jittery.”

He is feeling a bit shaky but that’s not going to stop him. “I’m done doing things just because I think it will get my dad’s approval.”

“I thought you already were, but continue. This is good.”

“So I’m going to things that I want, even if I know my dad will hate it. I’m not going to hold myself back anymore.”

“Good, you shouldn’t.”

Steve walks up to him. “I’m going to do what I want, because I want it without thinking of what could happen if he finds out. He acts without thinking of me, why should I act with him in mind.”

“I really like where this is going, Steve, but you are still scaring me a little.”

He lightly grabs the sides of Eddie’s face, a shocked noise slipping out when he does so. “I’m going to do what I want to.”

Before Eddie gets the chance to say anything else, Steve kisses him. Harder than he should of but he doesn’t care. He’s wanted this for far longer than he’s realized and isn’t going to let that voice in the back of his head tell him that it’s wrong anymore. He already canceled their previous plans because of that, he isn’t going to do that again.

After the shock, Eddie kisses him back, leaning into Steve’s touch and wrapping his arms around him, pulling Steve in closer.

. . .

Julie’s least favorite class is probably gym class. A bunch of kids wearing the same clothes, all of which have shorts that are way too short, playing some dumb sport that her teacher deemed important for them to learn. The only good part about the class is that it’s not co-ed, she can’t imagine the comments that would be made about her if the guys were in the class.

But she has to do it, so she goes out to the gym, the cold air hitting her as she exits the locker room, clutching her middle and just begging it’s something easy today. She notices a girl in a wheelchair by the bleachers, another girl with short hair sitting next to her animately talking about something. It’s Max, Julie realizes. She hasn’t seen her in school since last year, or at all really.

Not that they were ever really friends. They talked a few times, but never enough to form something real. And after a while, Max came outside in general less and less, always looking like something else was taking over her mind. Julie wanted to reach out and ask if she was ok, but never felt like it was her place to do so.

And then something big over spring break happened that no one had a good explanation for, and Julie didn’t see Max again for a long time.

“Do they really make you come to gym class if you can’t participate?” Julie asks, walking over to Max and her friend.

Max’s eyes are slightly clouded over and she looks at Julie like she can tell that she’s there, but can’t see it. “Yeah, it’s pretty stupid.” Her friend leans over to tell Max who it is, a face of recognition forming. “Julie this is my friend Jane, she just moved back to Hawkins from California.”

“Nice to meet you. Odd to hear someone moving here instead of away.”

“We are happier here,” Jane supplies, speaking with certainty in her voice.

“I thought you moved too. I haven’t heard anyone drive to your trailer in a few weeks. Thought you might have gotten out of that shit-hole.”

Julie clams up, debating whether or not to tell her. But she’d rather not get emotional in the middle of gym class. “I moved to a place on Cherry Street, that’s probably why.”

Their conversation is cut short when the teacher calls everyone to the center of the gym to go over the rules. Her mind is everywhere but the gym. Racing thoughts of what could have happened to Max to cause her to be in a wheelchair and possibly blinded, from what she could tell. Only landing at the same spot all of her thoughts seem to end up for the last few weeks.

She thought that maybe there would be a time when she could think of her mom without almost breaking down, but she couldn’t. It seems that every time someone mentions anything about her, all she can think about is the fact that she’s dead. That Julie is left alone without her mom, forever.

All she wants is to remember her mom without crying for once. Think of the happy memories with that sadness old people seem to get when talking about their friends. A form of silent sadness that doesn’t cause her to want to rip her heart out. She seems to continuously wake up with sore, red eyes and a pain she has no way of stopping.

. . .

July 1986

A few different cars pull up in front of the Mayfield’s trailer, a bunch of kids around her age pouring out and going up the door. All of them cheering when it opens. She recognizes a few of them from her classes. They must have been Max’s friends.

She hasn’t seen Max since spring break. The only answer that her mom could ever get from asking neighbors was that she was severely injured from the earthquakes and was hospitalized. For months, apparently.

Max came home last week in a wheelchair. Some people had come over to help build a ramp to the trailer a few days before and showed up again when Max came home. She wanted to go over and say that she was happy to see her back, but it felt wrong for some reason.

Julie doesn’t know a lot about earthquakes, but she knows that they don’t happen in the middle of America, let alone Indiana. And they don’t happen in the way that it happened here. The cracks in the ground weren’t on any fault lines, or near them at all. And for all of them to start from one location and hit city hall, wasn’t normal.

Nothing that happened over spring break was normal. She had seen the same bunch of kids running around the trailer park a few days before the quake. And the string of murders that Eddie Munson was wrongfully accused of happened days before the quake.

None of it made any sense, and Julie had no way of knowing what really happened. Some said this town was possessed by the devil, but that was evangelical Christian panic shit that claimed a board game was demonic. There was something wrong with Hawkins, and Julie wanted to know. But sometimes questions never get answered, and she had to accept that.

Part 4

Tag list(let me know if you want to be added or removed): @homoerotictangerine, @mugloversonly, @thesuninyaface, @imyelenasexual, @anaibis, @ilovecupcakesandtea, @brainsteddielyrotted, @jackiemonroe5512, @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @cinnamon-mushroomabomination, @lolawonsstuff, @writingandmushroomdragons, @stevesbipanic, @sierra-violet, @steddie-as-they-go, @dauntlessdiva, @mousedetective, @the-daydreamer-in-the-corner, @zombiethingy, @connected-dots-st-reblogger, @that-agender-from-pluto, @allyricas, @cheddartreets, @devondespresso, @crypticcorvidinacottage, @queenie-ofthe-void @chronicpainstevetruther, @cheddartreets, @theupsidedownrealestateagent, @acidbubblegummie, @sirsnacksalot, @l0st-strawberry, @helpimstuckposting, @strawberry-starss, @freddykicksasses, @italianwhore1, @i-threw-my-name-out-the-window, @rageagainsttheapathy, @nuggies4life, @ape31, @whimsicalwitchm, @chrissycunninghamfanblog, @michellegilligan, @hippielittlemetalhead, @bridget-malfoy-stilinski-hale, @jaytriesstuff, @confused-stripes, @faeb1tch42069, @marklee-blackmore, @hel-spawn, @genderless-spoon, @mamafaithful, @estrellami-1, @starryeyedpoet17 @i-amthepizzaman

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #robin buckley #eddie munson #max mayfield #original female character #julie lawson #secret sibling au #stranger things fic #fanfic #steddie fic

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hyunnieshannie · 2 years ago

Text

CLOSE | HJ

Chapter 13: Are you dense? (part 1) Series Master list | General Master list

Word Count: 2.6k

General Warnings: Strong Language, fluff!!

Disclaimer: This is a fanfiction, this does not represent the idols mentioned in any way.

A/N: FAIR WARNING: THIS CHAPTER WAS PROOFREAD BY A TEAM OF : 2 HAN QUOKKAS, 5 JINIRETS, AND 6 LEEBITS AND YOU CAN TELL IT WAS. (Don't ask why I have that many- Mini)

Another ridiculous day has passed, as you waited for the rest of your group to show up at the agreed meeting spot. Only you and Jisung had shown up on time while the others texted their excuses as to why they were late. You were busy staring up at the sky, as Jisung sat on the bench typing away at his laptop; headphones on, bobbing his head to whatever song played in the background.

You leaned over to peep at his laptop to see what he was listening to, noticing that you recognized the program he was using, it was the same Kitty used when making music.

“Are you working on a song?” you asked after poking his arm lightly to get his attention. He took out one headphone to hear you.

“Uh.. yeah.” he says shyly as he scratches the back of his head.

“Is it for a class?”

“No, no. This is a personal project,” he says as he clicks away on his keyboard a few times. “I’m just working on the beat for now, lyrics are a work in progress.” He looks at you quickly and back to his laptop. “Do you.. Do you wanna hear it?”

“I don’t think I’d be much help. I don’t know anything about composing music. Kitty tried to teach me once and it didn’t go over well.” You laugh awkwardly remembering all of the words Kitty threw at you as if you knew what she was talking about.

“It’s ok, it’s just the beat. You.. uh.. You don't have to listen if you don’t want to though…”

You wave your hands frantically, “no, no really. I’d love to listen if you’d like to share.”

Jisung gave you a huge smile and passed you his headphones, playing the beat for you. It was a very calming beat, with a soft piano opening. The song gave off calm, cozy, lofi vibes. There were no lyrics but you felt yourself calming down while listening to the soft beat, lightly bopping your head, a small smile gracing your lips, and your eyes closing to focus on the beat. Jisung was watching you very carefully, after all this was the song he was writing because of you; well it started off for himself, but quickly it became your song. He watched the small bobbing of your head, your brows knitting together, and the smile growing on your lips as you listened to it. He felt relieved that you were reacting so well to his song.

“Will you add lyrics to it?”

He quickly looks away from you, and you notice the slight blush to his cheeks. “I- I have a few I just don’t know where all of it is gonna fit in you know?”

“Can I see-” Jisung’s eyes bug out of his head as he scratches the back of his head again, frantically looking anywhere but at you. “-or not it's up to you!” You try to save the conversation, obviously you just made an error in asking.

“No!” he yells and you immediately get disappointed. “No, I mean yes; uh- I-'' Jisung keeps making weird hand gestures as if he's trying to pick the correct words out of thin air. “Yeah you can see them sorry, I usually don’t show people but feedback is always good!” He quickly pulls a beaten up notebook out of his backpack and opens it to a page with scribbled lyrics and doodles scattered across the page. He hands you the book shyly, you carefully take it in your hands and examine the lyrics he wrote.

Will you tell me about yourself?

You, who was seen from afar

I don't want to just watch without doing anything

Yeah, just tell me about you

There, far away, I can see you walking

I come to you without fear and ask about yourself

In the quiet tunnel, you with the sports car, the noisy engine blares

The walls that were colored are all black

They were colored by you, I'm surprised by the feelings felt for the first time

Name, age where do you live

Too many questions, I know i'm being rude

I'll cross the line just a little, as I finally

Avoided this road, I was walking on unsteadily

I'll look at you and rest for bit, I know I'm putting you out by doing this when it's our first meeting

I'm rambling noisily, as it's my first time having these emotions too, so I'm still

You look up at him after you read the words and give him a huge smile. “These are really nice Jisung!”

“Oh, thank you- I uh, kind of just write how I feel and hope for the best.” Jisung smiles, a blush dusting over his cheeks, and rubbing at the back of his neck, unable to make eye contact with you.

“Well, whoever this lucky person is, I’m sure they’re going to love it Jisung, honestly this is really good so far!” You say as you give him a genuine smile. You’re not gonna lie to yourself, you wish someone wrote things like that about you. His words were so sweet and you could feel the sincerity in it. Jisung is lowkey freaking out next to you, incredibly flustered by your praise.

“Yeah she’s uh- well.” You look up at him as he begins his sentence, he quickly looks away from you and at his feet. “I’m still getting used to things, who knows maybe she’ll hate it or maybe she won’t, maybe I won’t even show her.” You lean back on your palms, looking back up at the sky; carefully choosing your next words. Jisung couldn’t help but admire the way you looked, the sun beaming down on you, the wind gently moving your hair. Your eyes wide as you stared up at the clouds that gently rolled by.

“I think, if you choose to show her; it would be nice. I mean what girl doesn’t want an entire song written for them?” You giggle, “I don’t think she’ll hate it. The lyrics are coming along beautifully, and if she does for some reason react badly, well she wasn’t worth it and clearly doesn’t have taste.” Jisungs jaw basically drops to the floor, quickly turning his head away from you to quietly scream. He tries to compose himself as best as he can before faking a coughing fit.

“If someone were to uh-” Jisung thinks of his next words very carefully. “If someone were to do this for you, how would you feel? Wouldn’t you think it’s like.. Too much or something?” You look up to the sky as you carefully think about your answer.

“I think- I think I'd be a little surprised at first. I mean, it’s not like I’ve ever had a song written about or for me before-” You look down and fiddle with your fingers. “But I don’t think I’d react badly about it, it’s a sweet gesture, and if the song is as good as yours I’d be dumb not to appreciate it, you know?” You look at Jisung and notice the hint of surprise on his face, and you quickly cover yourself up to try and make light of your seriousness. “Unless the guy is a total tool. Now that would be unfortunate.”

“What if-” Jisung started, but he was immediately cut off by Hyunjin sneaking up behind him, yelling in order to scare him.

“MY FUCKING STARS HOW ARE YOU TODAY?” Hyunjin yells from behind you both, making both you and Jisung startle in your seats on the bench.

“Do you ever- not yell?” Mini groans as she finally makes her way up beside him, “I have a fucking migraine please for the love of god; shut the fuck up.”

“So grumpy,” Hyunjin mumbles, pouting from Mini yelling at him.

“You see this face I’m making right now? This will always be your sign, to shut the fuck up.”

“Never fuck with Mini when she has a migraine. It doesn’t end pretty for anyone.” You say as you shiver at the very unpleasant memory of the attack she launched on you after accidentally setting her off.

“Now, where the fuck are the others.” Mini groans, placing her camera down on the bench; as she begins to lay on the grass.

“On their way now, we can set up-” Hyunjin starts, but Mini gives him a look of disgust, “I can set up, so that we’re ready for this next scene.”

“Which scene are we doing again?” You ask and immediately regret the question when Mini shoots daggers at you from her spot on the grass. She’s definitely gonna beat your ass later for not remembering what scene you were shooting.

“The confession scene, falling into the kiss, and then into our villain trying to ruin things.” Hyunjin says as he begins prepping the equipment. The rest of your friends start arriving one by one. Something finally clicks in Jisung’s head and his cheeks immediately turn bright red. I HAVE TO KISS HER TODAY?! He thought to himself. He starts trying to busy himself with things around him, his nerves getting the better of him.

“You okay there HanJi?” Minho laughs, as he witnesses Jisung’s expression, “Don’t tell me our little Y/N is going to pop your first kiss cherry today!”

“She’s not popping my- what?” Jisung pauses, staring at Minho.

“So why do you look like you’ve got the ultimate sunburn on that pretty little face of yours huh?” Minho asks, poking one of Jisung’s cheeks.

“Just got a strange text that's all..” Jisung says, obviously trying to cover up his small freak out.

“Was it spicy? If it was, I want all the details.” You turn around and smack Minho in the shoulder. “What!? Maybe he’s got a secret girlfriend or something! I want to know!”

“Can we just get this the fuck over with? I want to go home.” Mini grumbles from the ground.

“Who the fuck pissed in her cornflakes this morning?” Kitty says as she makes her way over to Mini to help her up from the grass. You all turn around quickly and stare at Seungmin.

“I didn’t do shit-” Seungmin holds his hands up in defence. You all continue to look at him and he drops his hands and rolls his eyes. “Okay, whatever, we just had one extra drink last night it wasn’t even that bad-”

“She doesn’t get hangovers what the fuck did you do to her?!” Kitty yells, patting Mini on the head and running her fingers through her hair.

“What didn’t he do is the better question to be honest-” Hyunjin shudders as shakes the images out of his brain.

“Shut your mouths unless you all want to die.” Mini grumbles, but looks at Kitty, “except you, you’re safe baybee.” Kitty smugly smiles at Seungmin and sticks her tongue out at him, as she continues to pet Mini. “Everyone to your fucking spots.” Mini goes and grabs her camera, getting her setup all together.

“Ok let’s start from the confession-” Hyunjin states, grabbing his script from his bag.

~~~~

After a few rounds of rehearsals, and some errors in filming, everyone decides to try one last time after getting a few good shots. Standing in front of Jisung was sending your nerves into a panicked shock. The two of you were staring at each other as you tried to remember exactly what your lines were.

“I can’t do this-” you recite the lines to Jisung, looking at the ground as you feel a slight tinge of pain in your chest.

“Why can’t you,” Jisung says, placing his finger under your chin and lifting your head. “You can’t even look me in the eye, what did I do wrong?!”

“Why did you even call me out here, Peter?” You pull your head away from his fingers, pulling back from him, looking back down at the ground to compose yourself. “I want nothing to do with you.”

“You know that’s not true.” Jisung says softly, stepping closer to you. “Look at me, and tell me that’s the truth. Tell me and I’ll go.” is this what a confession would actually feel like?

“I can’t…”

“Can’t what. Look at me, or lie to me.” Jisung says, his voice getting quiet as he finishes the line.

“God you guys wrote this so dramatically…” Changbin whispers to the English majors.

“Stop hiding from me.” Jisung sighs, running his hands through his hair, exasperated. “You can’t just keep running away from me.”

“Why not.” You finally look up at him. This whole scene feels so real, you can't help but admire the man in front of you. He’s kinda pretty, and soft looking… and he smells so fucking good. Focus Y/N. You knit your brows together, fisting your hands at your side. “If you called me out here, to ask stupid questions I'm leaving-” You turn to walk away before Jisung grabs your wrist to stop you in your tracks.

“I called you out here, to figure out what you want from me. Why do you keep hiding from me, running from me! Why do you always leave just when I start thinking we’re getting closer?” Jisung is getting frustrated, his heart not understanding the situation. “Why? Why do you keep distancing yourself from me?” He drops your wrist in defeat. “I called you out here to figure out if you felt the same way, don't you get that!?” Jisung yells.

“W-what” you stutter. It was your line, but you reacted so out of instinct because it felt so… real.

“I need to know.” Jisung says softly, grabbing your hand so gently. “If you feel the same way. Please..” He almost begs.

“I don’t know…how I feel…” You struggle to find the words. Mini looks between Hyunjin, Kitty, Jeongin, and Seungmin. This was not in the script. “I’m so confused…” They let the cameras roll to see what the outcome will be. Jisung looks at you confused but since no one says anything he tries to continue.

“Fine.” Jisung says and grabs you, pulling you close to his chest. “How do you feel about this then?” He asks gently. He places a finger under your chin again and tilts your head up to his, your lips a breaths distance away from one another. He leans in to close the distance and you melt in his hold. You couldn’t help but feel weak at the knees because of him, the secure hold he had around your waist, the gentle hold on your chin, the soft caress of his lips against yours. You wrap your hands around his neck and pull him in closer.

“Perfect!” Hyunjin yells from behind the camera. Neither you or Jisung really register Hyunjins call of your names at first, too lost in each other's warmth, but once it registers, you both push away from each other, blushing like crazy, your ears and his cheeks bright red.

“Does art imitate life… or does life imitate art…” Mini whispers to Hyunjin.

“What?” Hyunjin looks at her confused.

“Are you dense? They like each other.” Mini whispers at him and slaps his arm.

“Seriously, I told you he was dumb.” Seungmin mumbles to Mini.

“Fuck you.” Hyunjin seethes to Seungmin.

“Not your job, but thanks for the offer!” Seungmin winks at Hyunjin.

“I hate both of you.” Mini rolls her eyes.

“Not true, you only PARTIALLY hate me.” Seungmin teases, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

“What even makes you think that anyway?” Felix asks from the side of the group.

“Look at them?!” Mini whisper-yells, as she points at you and Jisung are being awkward near each other.

“Nah.” Chan questions. “Anyone would be a mess if they had to kiss like that- right?” Kitty rolls her eyes at him.

“God you’re also dense.” Kitty says. “Men.” Mini nods in agreement.

TAGS @https-skzology @chanlixiiee @channiesbub @silentcry01 @iadorethemskz @heavensheadbitch @maeleelee @kubuwu @tfshouldidohere @jisungsbff01@applepie-macaroon @amara-mars ♡ Thank you for letting us tag you

#han jisung x female reader #han jisung fluff #skz han #stray kids han #han jisung #han jisung x you #han jisung x reader #han jisung x y/n #stray kids #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #stray kids fan fic #stray kids fic #han jisung fic #stray kids jisung #han jisung smau #stray kids smau #stray kids texts

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docholligay · 1 year ago

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Drunk Shakespeare

I’m not sure what else there is to say about Drunk Shakespeare* other than I think a humorous recap of a Shakespeare play in one and a half hours while one of the cast is drunk is a delightful time.

The show is: Imagine me and a bunch of my drunk Lit friends are all trying to recap a Shakespeare play in a dive bar, one of us is already wasted, and we have gotten the rest of the bar to pay attention. You’ll have an excellent idea of what you’re buying tickets for.

The room was small and intense--I think there were only about three rows to the back in total, and the room was the size of what I would consider a decent-sized restaurant, decorated as a library with the sort of color-sorted books that suggests no one in the family actually reads. We were seated in bench-style seating with a little cubby underneath, next to two young girls celebrating a 21st birthday.

Birthdays are, as you might imagine, a common thing at intimate activities like this, especially in big cities. Hell, we were there to celebrate my mom’s birthday. But there was something about her that was so perfectly eager and artless, in the way some people are. She was telling the actors (who come around before the show to get a feel for who in the audience is willing to participate and be picked on a bit--more on that later--and who would prefer to stay in the background) how she was an acting major and how she had always wanted to go to this for her 21st birthday, had waited until she was 21. She was intensely awkward in the way that only people who deeply love a thing can be, and I was actually rather touched.

Again, birthdays, not an odd thing, but anyhow, they do this auction for the king and queen of the evening, who get to sit in the throne, and wear crowns, and twice in the play get to, de jure, do a sobriety check and if they are deemed too sober, force them to take another shot. De facto, this means, force them to take another shot. They get a bottle of champagne--actually, if I was going to say I had one annoyance with this show, it would be that they gave the king and queen a bottle of decent midrange bubbles that was unavailable for purchase on their drinks menu. I had a glass of middlin prosecco, but I would rather have split a bottle of decent sparkling wine between me and mom wow I am abusing the FUCK out of this em dash, amazing--and we all have to call them by their royal name and they get to participate in the play and it all seems very lovely.

They auction it off.

This is where I would tell you that I won the royalty, and that I gave it to the little weird girl and her friend for her 21st birthday because she would enjoy it more than any person living. But, that didn’t happen, because I was outbid to a level i could not afford, and so the fantasy of being nice to a stranger will have to be just that.

They only ever do plays that are well known to audiences, as there’s not a lot of point to doing Coriolanus jokes when most of the audience have no idea that’s a Shakespeare play. The biggies: Romeo and Juliet, Hamlet, etc, seem to be the choices here. As a practical matter, NYC is always Macbeth, unless google reviews have lied to me, which is great, actually, as I don’t need the element of surprise here and Macbeth is my mom’s favorite Shakespeare play.

Who this show is for:

Drunkards

English majors (Drunk)**

People who have never read a Shakespeare play

Drama nerds (Drunk)

Attention whores (First row only)

Moms from Worchester

Who this show is NOT for:

Someone expecting a “real play”

People who don’t like to be around drinking

Moms from, I don’t know, Texas, probably

I don’t say that to criticize the show as I had a great time, but if you’re looking for a serious discussion of the bard I have to assume you can’t read, because this is anything but. The joking is often barroom joking, tits and sex and surface level political stuff that plays very safe to a New York audience. I had a great time, I think many people would have a great time, but I think it’s always important to frame who something is for, or not for.

During the little entree in which the actors come around and talk to you, I had stated happily that I was quite the extrovert and very difficult to embarrass if you know nothing about me, so they could happily go at without any worry. During this time, I also got into a sort of play-argument with one of the actors when I was telling him Mom was very game, too, and extroverted, and he accused me of answering all the fucking questions and while in fairness, he had me there, I reminded him that I only occasionally let my mother out of the basement and so social interaction is new to her. It sounds aggressive on paper, but I assure you there are people in the world who tease around like this and I’m one of them, I had a great time with this guy. You can sort of see where this is going.

We get to the scene with the drunken porter, and he’s played by the guy that I was having so much fun with before the show. He sees me, and for his speech comes over and says, “Helllooooooo,” and starts talking about his conquests and how drink “Provokes the desire but takes away the performance” and it is very funny, and he keeps saying my name, and doing knock knock jokes with me, because the door keeps knocking and knocking, the actress playing macduff yelling at the door. So he’s backing away from me, still talking to me, telling me:

“It is my job to answer this door--”

To which I reply:

“Well, you’re not doing a very fucking good job of it”

To which I gave great thanks to my lord and maker that I thought to reply that. I love getting a laugh like I love few things in life. Best part of the show because I’m an attention whore (See: Who this show is for)

At one point the sobriety test bell was rung and they had the actress who was drunk balance a beer on her head and then, try to drink it faster than the lady, leslie, they picked from the audience. Sarah could not use her hands, they said, and so Leslie had to have a straw. This is clearly a very good party trick that Sara can do, to show how funny it is that she’ll be asked to take another shot. And it was truly amazing to see. I can’t believe she got the fucking thing off her head and had started to drink it in an INCREDIBLY QUICK amount of time.

But. They were not counting on moms from Worchester.

Leslie was a powerhouse. A monster. An icon for the ages the likes of which we may never see again. It is so so difficult to chug a beer through a straw. Nigh-impossible. Leslie cared not at all for this reality. She blew through it. She killed. Sara was laid to waste. I pledge allegiance to the moms of Worchester.

In all, a very fun show, assuming you know what you’re getting and show up with the right mindset. It very much helps to be unserious about Shakespeare, or have the ability to be unserious about Shakespeare, and also to be a drinker. I loved it, very much recommend it, if you are that sort of person, and unlike most shows in NYC it has a tight run time so you can get on with your evening very easily or go to bed early or whatever your needs are.

*Followed by me saying many hundreds of words.

**Some of the language is Shakespeare’s and some, obviously, is off the cuff or jokes or whatever. My ONLY disappointment was that the very funny gal playing lady macbeth was doing the whole “I wish i were a man, I’d fucking kill the king, I wouldn’t be such a fucking pussy about it. I would use my huge fucking dick to stab him. You know, if I were a man.” thing and when she got to “Unsex me here” She waggled her eyebrows and it was all I could do not to stand up and go, “THAT’S NOT WHAT IT MEANS AT ALL”

#doc does Christmas

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treetrunk737464 · 7 months ago

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Here’s the other one!

This is Amethyst, she’s an era 2 gem a part of the Homeworld police system and also has interesting hobbies. There’ll be lore under the Read More sign!

Context warning for cannon-typical depersonalisation, kidnapping, systematic murder system and other dystopian themes. Fun Homeworld things.

| Basic Information

Hello Amethyst, we all say in unison. Amethyst is an era 2 gem, made after the gem war sometime. She was made on a planet that was actually pretty shit, not very good resources for gem making. All they could really produce was a few clutches of rubies and a clutch or two of amethysts. Hence why Amethyst is a little discoloured! She was one of the better ones.

As for the Crystal Gems, Amethyst doesn’t really know of them. I think as a rule Homeworld keeps the whole rebellion thing pretty close to their chests, they don’t go telling gems about it in hopes of preventing anyone from getting ideas. So if you were a younger gem, you’d need an older gem to tell you about it. Amethyst had probably heard of rumours about the rebellion, I’m sure she’s got superiors who were in the war, but she’s under the belief that Rose Quartz either didn’t exist or was just a defective quartz soldier that was blown out of proportion.

| Background Information

Amethyst works in a type of police system on Homeworld, which exists basically just to dispatch protests, catch and detain gems who are causing trouble and sometimes for solving crimes.

Since she burst from the ground, Amethyst never really agreed with the way the Diamonds ran Homeworld- what, with the whole weird ranking system, the war anxiety prolonged and lingered much after any war took place, as well as the pompous and increasingly exclusive upper class?

Eventually, she decided to just cause as much trouble as possible.

So she joined the police system, which she is so fortunate to be able to have access to as an Amethyst. In the police system, she helps criminals escape, she tampers with evidence, but in a really lowkey way so the other Amethysts don’t catch her. She’s gotten very good at it. It gives her a rush that fighting never gave her- she’s defective in that way, she realises, but she’s having too much fun to care.

A Sapphire and a Carnelian noticed what Amethyst was doing, and introduced her to the Homeworld equivalent of the black market. She started to pick up their craft, deciding to focus more on Pearl stuff- the way they were made and how they acted intrigued her. As much as they are marketed as a mindless tool, Pearls really seemed to act like real gems at times. And, y’know, if it looks like a gem, acts like a gem, it’s PROBABLY a gem. But you can’t really know for sure until you conduct research, so that’s what Amethyst did.

| Meeting Pearl

So anyway, with all these new black market jobs on top of the police work, Amethyst found herself needing some help. She didn’t have enough money to buy a Pearl, and she wasn’t notable enough to earn one, so obviously she would just have to steal one. It’s not like she’s not used to committing crimes anyway.

Naturally, she goes to a gem harvesting plant, which is a place where they… harvest… defective gems. Pearl (pictured, top right) caught her eye- it was unusual to see a Pearl so brightly coloured- so she jabbed her with a very sharp stick so she would poof, and ran off with her gem.

She waited until the Pearl reformed, and watched as she freaked out and hid under Amethyst’s work bench. To really be a good asset to Amethyst, the Pearl needed to trust her, so she set to work on that first before introducing her to her new job.

| Present-ish

After getting Pearl, life gets a lot easier for Amethyst. Pearl helps with cleaning, hiding evidence, giving her ideas, helping with her experiments, all of it.

Speaking of experiments, Amethyst’s storyline is definitely about discovery. As she experiments on and probes and dismantles these other Pearls, she gets very good at understanding them and eventually starts to take on commissions from other Pearls owners. Doing this, she really starts to discover how gem-like Pearls really are. How they ARE gems, actually, and the fact she’s been experimenting on them and changing them without their permission and has been bossing one around is really really screwed up!

Amethyst doesn’t stop taking ‘commissions’ from Pearl owners, but decides to take on more of a doctor-like role, fixing them up and whatnot. Once Era 3 roles around, she also moves onto other gems, changing up their appearances if they want or patching up their masses. Change this illegal operation into a more legal one, maybe.

#this one’s specifically for you oddpocalypse #steven universe #my art #ocs #kidnapping #systematic murder #depersonalization #dystopian themes #dystopian society #steven universe oc #homeworld su #homeworld pearls #homeworld amethyst #su #amethyst oc #pearl oc #you should tell me about your pearl oddpocalypse

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ruth-writes · 1 month ago

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What's My Age Again?: Chapter 5

I decided on a name! The hashtag is gonna be whatismyageagain so it won't get mixed up with the song

Alex's POV

Content warnings: mentions of self harm and abuse

I scanned through the apartment listings as Professor Andrews droned on and on. I’d already had five viewings in the past few days and felt pretty good about the last two, but I wouldn’t stop anxiously setting up more until I’d signed a contract with someone. I was so engrossed, it took me a few seconds to realize everyone had started packing their things. Was class already over? Fuck.

“Do you want my notes from today, too?” Riley asked, glancing over at my empty google doc.

“Yes, please. Thank you so, so much,” I replied gratefully.

“It’s really not a big deal,” they said. “I’m taking the notes anyways. By the way, I’m meeting Billie and Aaliyah for lunch, do you want to come?”

“I don’t know, I’m kind of busy,” I replied automatically. I had two viewings this afternoon, had to pick Jamie up from school, and now I had to revise Riley’s notes.

“Oh, come on. You have to eat something either way,” Riley argued as we started filing out of the lecture hall.

They had a point there, especially since I’d already skipped breakfast. I wondered if Riley was being so insistent because my stomach had been growling loud enough to create aggravating background noise to the already boring lecture. Plus, it would be nice to see Aaliyah again, so I let Riley lead me to one of the two taco trucks on campus.

“Alex!” Aaliyah called when she saw us. She gave me an enthusiastic hug, the spikes on her necklace poking into my chest.

“Hey!” I said, hugging her back and praying she couldn’t hear my hear thumping loudly.

Billie seemed happy enough to see me as well, at least that’s what I got from the quick side hug we gave each other. I scanned the menu as I got in line behind them, slightly regretting setting myself up for eating one of the messiest foods ever in front of Aaliyah.

“How’ve you been?” Billie asked me. “I haven’t seen you since… well, you know.”

“Fine, I guess. I’ve been pretty busy figuring everything out,” I replied, trying to be vague and honest at the same time.

“Well, if you need anything, let us know,” Riley chimed in. They all agreed, making me smile. I got the feeling they truly meant it.

“How was Andrews?” Aaliyah asked, thankfully changing the subject.

Riley rolled their eyes. “I have never in my life met a person who can take interesting subjects and make them that boring. I’m pretty sure Alex fell asleep.”

“Okay, rude,” I defended myself. “I didn’t remember a thing, but I was awake.”

“Whatever.”

We made more small talk, finding a picnic table. Thankfully, we were all a complete mess while eating our tacos, which made me feel better.

“Oh, God,” Billie groaned, looking over my shoulder. “Heads up, wannabe jock coming over.”

I turned around to see Sam strutting towards us. “Hey, Alex!” He then eyed Billie, who uncomfortably pulled her jacket closed to cover her chest. “Damn, Bille. That top sure looks good on you.”

“Dude, what do you want?” Aaliyah snapped, getting up to place herself protectively in front of Billie.

Sam took a step back. “Whoa, sorry. I just came over to talk to my friend Alex here.” Damn it, why did he have to pull me into this? He clapped my back unnecessarily hard. “How’ve you been, buddy? I haven’t seen you since you moved out without telling me.”

Three pairs of eyes turned to look at me expectantly. I cleared my throat. “Look, Sam, I think that maybe you should leave. You’re being kind of weird, you know?” I didn’t speak with half the confidence Aaliyah had, but of course Sam listened to me more than her. He left, mumbling something about how no one could take a compliment these days, and Aaliyah returned to the bench after she was satisfied that he was far enough away.

“I can’t believe- oh, shit!” Riley swore as their taco ripped at the bottom, spilling chunks of tomato and beans onto the table. Aaliyah grabbed one of her extra napkins and started cleaning it up. Once they’d managed to get the tinfoil to hold their salvageable taco remnants, Riley started again. “I can’t believe you had to live with that asshole.”

It took me a second to realize they were talking to me. “Oh, it wasn’t too bad. He’s annoying, but he kind of grows on you after a while.”

Billie raised an eyebrow. “I hope he didn’t grow on you too much.”

“No!” I frantically tried to correct my mistake. “I know he’s an asshole. I didn’t mean that I like him or anything, just that I learned to live with him.” I eyed Aaliyah, trying to figure out if my comment took me out of her good graces. It seemed like a fragile thing with her, where a single misstep could have you falling out. She smiled at me while rolling up the napkins, making me relax.

“You don’t have much of a choice with dorms, do you?” Riley pointed out.

“Yeah, what’s your roommate like?” I asked, hoping to turn the conversation away from me and Sam.

“They’re fine. We don’t talk much,” Riley answered. “The only thing I hate is their fucking awful alarm.”

“I keep telling you to just-“ Aaliyah tried to cut in, but Riley interrupted her.

“Yeah, yeah, talk to them about it. I don’t want to upset the ecosystem, okay? You’ll get it once you get a roommate someday.”

The last part seemed kind of pointed. I suddenly felt uncomfortable as I watched Aaliyah stew in silence with a look that said she still thought she was right. I assumed this was how it felt to be at a friend’s house when they got into a fight with their parents.

Billie and Riley both ignored her look in a way that felt like it was a common routine for them. Instead, Riley asked, “Does anyone want to go out tonight?”

Aaliyah shook her head and declined. I did the same, so Riley and Billie started talking about where to go. I zoned out of their conversation, locking eyes with Aaliyah, who seemed to be doing the same. We sent each other awkward glances until Billie and Aaliyah’s phones chimed at the same time. They checked them and groaned.

“Jenny?” Riley asked sympathetically, and Aaliyah nodded.

“Who’s Jenny?” I asked curiously.

“Our boss,” Aaliyah explained. “We don’t like her.”

That much was apparent from their expressions. “From the dance studio?” I remembered.

They both nodded bud didn’t elaborate, just typed a few words and put their phones a way again.

After checking the time, I got up and announced, “I think I’m gonna go to the library.”

They looked surprised but started waving me goodbye.

“Hey, I’m helping organize this thing on campus tomorrow,” Aaliyah stopped me before I could leave. “You should come, I can text you the details.”

Was I imagining the giggles Billie and Riley seemed to be having trouble suppressing? “Sure, I’ll try,” I told her, even though I already knew there was a slim chance of me being able to make it.

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

Jamie and I had established a routine when I picked him up.

“How was your day?” I would ask in the most casual way I could.

He’d shrug his shoulders and say, “Fine.”

“Did you meet anyone nice?”

Shrug.

“Are you hungry?”

Shrug.

“Do you have any homework?”

Shrug and sometimes a “yeah”.

It was getting hard for me to keep a straight face during it. Any information I had on his feelings was mostly guesswork, but if they were anything like mine, we were heading towards impending disaster. We’d go home, he’d take a snack from the kitchen and shut himself in his room until it was time for dinner. In the beginning, I’d thought it was good to give him space, but now I wasn’t sure. I’d sit on the couch, trying to think of something to say to him while my nails dug deeper and deeper into my skin. Sometimes they were stained red when I pulled them away.

Today, as we were driving along the already familiar route, my knuckles white as I gripped the steering wheel as tightly as I could to get through the excruciating silence, a car in front of us suddenly stopped.

“Fuck!” I shouted as I slammed my foot onto the brakes, coming to a stop just before I hit their taillights. “Jesus Christ, what the fuck?” I turned to Jamie to ask if he was okay, but the words got stuck in my throat. He’d grabbed the handle in his panic, causing his long sleeves to fall, revealing cuts on his forearms that were all too similar to mine.

He immediately pulled them back once he saw me looking and turned his face to the window. I let him, allowing the silence to envelop us until we got to the Airbnb. As he immediately headed towards his room, panic started to swell inside of me.

“Jamie,” I blurted out, causing him to turn to me. I swallowed.

“What?” he asked snappishly when I simply stared at him, already impatiently retreating. Whatever I was going to say, I had to do it now.

“I thought you could help with dinner tonight,” I told him.

He didn’t look happy. “Do I have to?”

“Yes,” I said more forcefully, a twinge of annoyance rising in my chest. “You live here, too. It wouldn’t hurt for you to start pulling some weight.”

He looked as taken aback by the sentence as I was, but it had its effect. “Whatever,” he muttered. “Let me know when you need me.” With that, he shut the door behind him.

I had him help me cut the veggies, which meant we were sitting across from each other at the dining table that doubled as the only workspace in the small kitchen. It reminded me of the few times Mom and John would go on trips and leave us alone. It would allow us rare occasions of moving freely throughout the house, and some of my favorite memories of us cooking actual good food were created then. I hadn’t known a thing about flavors or spices, but Google was a good teacher.

“Do you know how much longer we’re gonna stay here?” Jamie asked finally.

“We’ll see,” I told him. “I’m supposed to get an answer from a few places tomorrow.”

“Are they further away from school?” he asked.

“Some are, but you’ll be able to take the bus.” Not having to drive him every day was gonna take a shit ton off my plate. “Are you excited?” I prodded gently.

He shrugged. “It’ll just be nice to have a more permanent place, you know?”

I did. I couldn’t wait to have my own room again. “If you want, you can start looking for furniture,” I suggested. “You’ll need a new bed and stuff.”

He brightened. “I can pick stuff out myself?”

I chuckled. “Yeah, as long as it’s cheap. We can go through Ebay together.”

He looked kind of awed. “I thought we’d be driving back to Chicago to get the rest of our stuff,” he admitted.

I shook my head. “No. We’d need a bigger car, and we can just use the gas money for new furniture. Besides,” I added the last part darkly, “I don’t ever want to go back there.”

He was silent, then said in a small voice, “Yeah, me neither.”

I grabbed the last carrot, cutting off the ends before quartering it into four long pieces. “Do you feel better now that you’re here?” I tried, hoping he wouldn’t shut me out.

He finished cutting his pepper and started filling the pieces into the large bowl I’d placed between us. “I guess. I’m glad I’m here, with you.” It was the first time he’d said that, or anything particularly nice, since we’d gotten here, and it made my lips tug into a smile. “I miss Holden, though. He made school a lot easier.”

Holden. Guilt tugged at me as I thought of the way I’d treated him at the hospital. It was becoming clear that he’d been there for Jamie where I’d failed. “Have you talked to him?”

Jamie nodded. He didn’t have any veggies left, so he pulled a knee to his chest and watched me cut. “Yeah, we text every day.”

I didn’t know much about relationships, but that didn’t seem like the healthiest way to handle a breakup. “Have you made any friends at school?”

“Not really,” he admitted, confirming my fears.

The words tumbled out of me before I could think them through. “You know, I have some friends who work at a dance studio. Maybe they could set up a trial class if you want to check it out.”

He frowned. “You have friends?”

Ouch. “Yes, I have friends. What did I say about being mean?”

He actually looked apologetic. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just… surprised. You’ve never had friends before.”

I decided to ignore the comment. “Do you want to try it out or not?”

He hesitated. “Like, an actual dance studio? Isn’t that gonna cost money?”

“Don’t worry about that,” I dismissed. I’d pick up fifty extra shifts per week if it meant Jamie getting out of his room.

His hesitant smile grew wider. “Okay, sure.”

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

The thing Aaliyah organizing turned out to be a protest about something to do with housing. I saw her immediately, standing in front of the maybe fifty people and shouting into a megaphone.

When she saw me, she handed the megaphone to the curly-haired person next to her and jogged over. “You came!” She threw her arms around me.

“Of course!” It hadn’t been entirely by choice, as the protest was in front of the building I’d just had my English lecture in.

“Come on, I’ll introduce you to everyone.” She dragged me towards the crowd and started telling me names, none of which I remembered. None of them mattered anyway, because soon I was just following her and doing my best to blend into the crowd by copying the slogans everyone was shouting. Aaliyah was the opposite, routinely taking the megaphone again and starting her own chants.

When it was over, everyone started to disperse, some taking the signs with them. I doubted the protest had made much of a difference besides bothering a few students.

“What did you think?” Aaliyah asked me as we were leaving.

“I don’t know,” I replied truthfully. “I’ve never been to a protest before.”

“Really?” She seemed surprised, which made me feel somewhat embarrassed.

“Yeah, I’ve never really had the time,” I defended myself.

She was still skeptical. “Well, I think people should always make time for politics. This stuff directly affects you, you know. Like, we were protesting for lower rent, and you’re looking for an apartment right now.”

I knew that. I wasn’t dumb. “Well, what happens now?” I challenged her.

“What do you mean?” Her jewelry clacked as she looked up at me.

“I mean, you all came here, made some noise, and now you’re leaving.” I motioned to the now empty space, free of any sign that the protest had ever been there. “How does that change anything? Politicians and landlords won’t care, they’ll just ignore you.”

“Okay, I’ll admit this wasn’t necessarily the most affective thing I’ve ever done,” she relented. “Peaceful protests never are. But we’re organizing, which means we can set up other things. Like, we do mutual aid for unhoused people. And we’re raising awareness.”

I didn’t know what mutual aid meant exactly, but it did sound more meaningful. “That makes sense, I guess.”

She grinned. “How do you feel about discussing this more over coffee?”

“I don’t really drink coffee,” I admitted. “And I have to go to work. It’s probably not very busy now, though. You can come and hang out if you want.”

She agreed, which made it a lot harder to focus as she smiled at me from across the counter, sipping on her hot chocolate. It turned out she wasn’t much of a coffee person, either.”

“Excuse me, are you dumb? My son wants a cookie, just give him one,” a lady was yelling at me.

“Ma’am, as I said, we don’t sell cookies,” I explained again in my overly friendly customer service voice. “I can offer you muffins and a variety of sandwiches.”

“He doesn’t want a muffin, he wants a cookie,” she snapped. “Honestly, this generation knows nothing about good customer service. What kind of café doesn’t sell cookies?”

I shared a ‘what the fuck’ glance with Aaliyah, who surprised me by coming to my rescue. “Lady, he already told you they don’t sell them. Just go somewhere else. There’s like, three more cafés on this block.”

If looks could kill, Aaliyah would have been incinerated on the spot. The woman huffed and marched out the door, dragging her poor son with her. I sighed, wishing some billionaire would invent a substance to inject into people’s brains at birth to make them be polite. Forget government surveillance, customer service workers need chip technology more.

“Thanks,” I said to Aaliyah, walking over to her. We were now the only ones in the small space. Most customers ordered to go rather than sitting on an uncomfortable chair in the dimly lit room.

“No problem. Do you get people like her a lot?” she asked.

I grimaced. “Unfortunately.”

“How much are they paying you again?”

I still wasn’t used to her bluntness. “Uh, minimum wage,” I answered uncomfortably.

“Is that what your coworkers are earning, too?”

“I actually don’t know,” I admitted.

“You should ask around,” she said matter-of-factly. “Not asking is how they rip you off.”

“Yeah, maybe I will,” I lied. I’d only been here a few months, I didn’t want to start rocking the boat. “By the way, how much do classes at your studio cost? They didn’t say anything on the website.” I braced myself for what was probably gonna be a number way out of my budget.

She let out a sigh of annoyance. “Yeah, Jenny thinks writing the prices will scare away potential students.” Okay, so they were definitely high enough for me to forget about it. My heart wrenched at having to explain that one to Jamie. Maybe I could- “Are you asking for your brother? ‘Cause I have an employee discount I get to use for one person. I could use it for him.”

I blinked, surprised at her offer. She definitely wasn’t joking, and she said it so casually I didn’t know how to react. “Really? That’s so nice, but you don’t have to do that. If you can only use it for one person-”

“Alex, it’s fine. Really.” She said it with a gentle smile that made her brown eyes light up. “I wouldn’t be offering if it wasn’t fine.”

That was probably true. In the short time I’d known Aaliyah, I’d come to understand that she was an incredibly honest person. “Okay, if you’re sure. How much would it be with the discount, then?”

She hesitated. “Um, well, how much can you afford?” she asked uncertainly.

I frowned. “What does that have to do with it?”

She took a long sip of her hot chocolate before answering. “I’m just trying to figure out what class would work,” she said when she finally set her cup down.

“Oh.” I was still a little confused but chuckled when she looked up at me. “You have some hot chocolate in your face.”

Her eyebrows scrunched together in the cutest way possible. “Where?”

“It’s like, on your upper lip.”

She dabbed at it with a napkin. “Gone?”

“…yeah.”

She frowned again. “Why did you hesitate?”

“I didn’t!”

“Yes, you did,” she accused. “Is it really gone?”

“Yes,” I promised. “I just wasn’t entirely sure.”

She studied me for a moment, then got out her phone and looked in the selfie camera. When she was satisfied, I was telling the truth, she put it away. “What were we talking about?”

“Class prices,” I supplied. “I think I could afford like… ten dollars a class?” Shame rolled over me as I told her the small number, but lying about what you could afford only tended to get you into worse positions. “I mean, that’s what I have right now. If I picked up some extra shifts, that would get me higher. Maybe to like, thirty.”

She was back to being matter-of-fact. “No, you don’t have to do that. There’s a contemporary class on Wednesdays that could be ten with the discount.”

“Really?” I asked, surprised. “How much is it usually?”

“Forty bucks. The discount is pretty high since I teach the class.”

“Wow. That would be great, obviously. Thank you so much.”

“It’s not a problem. I’m just glad I could help.” She smiled at me again, then moved her hand forwards so her fingertips were brushing with mine, making my heart lurch.

We were interrupted by the bell ringing as a string of students walked in. I went over to serve them, falling back into my customer service routine. It went on for the next forty-five minutes, barely giving me time to even glance at Aaliyah as more and more students filed in. Only one customer was from a different demographic- an older lady with a dog. Aaliyah watched me silently at first, then eventually got out her laptop.

“What are you working on?” I asked after the last customer left, wiping down the counter to clean up their messes. She lifted her laptop so I could wipe there, too.

“Just an info post about the protest for Instagram,” she answered as if it was the most normal thing in the world. She looked around. “Is everyone gone?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty quiet during class times,” I explained. “They usually come in waves during the breaks.”

“Oh. That’s sounds pretty nifty. It must be nice having it be so predictable.”

“I guess. It gets kind of boring sometimes.”

“Maybe I could visit you more often, then,” she said with a small smile.

I felt my cheeks warm. “Yeah, that would be cool.”

She propped an elbow on the counter, resting her chin on her hand. “How have you been, anyway? The stuff with your brother must have been pretty stressful. What’s his name again? Jamie, right?”

I nodded. “Yeah. It is, but it’s nothing I’m not used to. I always knew this was gonna happen.”

She looked uneasy. “You knew he’d end up in the hospital?”

“I knew he’d have to come live with me,” I clarified. “I didn’t see the hospital coming. I really fucked that one up.” I bit my lip to keep a straight face.

“You can’t blame yourself,” she said gently. “You didn’t put him there.”

I swallowed. I knew she was trying to help, but she didn’t have any idea what she was talking about. “I just wish I’d been paying more attention,” I explained with a lump in my throat. “I shouldn’t have misjudged the situation the way I did.”

“The situation with your dad?”

“With Jamie’s dad. We’re half-brothers, technically, but I haven’t seen my dad since I was three. He lives in California with my brother.”

“Oh yeah, I remember. The one paying for your tuition, right?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

She switched her head to her other hand. “So, were you always taking care of Jamie? ‘Cause you said you were used to it.”

It was probably too early in our relationship to trauma dump this much, but since she was asking, I said, “Yeah, pretty much. He was an accident, and for some goddamn reason they decided to keep him even though they already hated having me around. But I don’t resent him or anything. I love him more than anything.” I could already feel the guilt rising and grabbed a napkin to wipe at the tears forming in my eyes. “Oh God, sorry. This is embarrassing.”

“It’s not!” she said immediately. “It’s fucking normal, especially with what you’re going through.” I expected her to add something about how men not crying had something to do with the patriarchy, but she seemed to realize this wasn’t the time for a sociology lesson.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me. I’m just telling the truth.”

I laughed. “Yeah, but I don’t mean just that. Thanks for everything. You barely know me, but you drove me half the way to Chicago, now you’re giving me the discount…” I grabbed another napkin to stop even more tears, but it was hopeless. They were falling uncontrollably now.

She smiled. “Well, the drive was an emergency. I wasn’t gonna let you drive drunk.”

She held my hand for a bit, then walked behind the counter to hug me. She was a good hugger, her arms wrapping tightly around my chest without making me feel suffocated.

“I’m probably getting tears in your hair,” I apologized once I could somewhat talk again.

“Don’t worry about it.”

I glanced at the clock, realizing it would be pretty embarrassing if a customer came in now. “I should probably go freshen up a bit before the next rush,” I told her, extracting myself from the hug.

“Are you sure you’re okay to keep working?”

“I mean, I don’t have much of a choice,” I pointed out.

“Fair enough,” she relented, though she didn’t look happy about letting me go.

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cutepastelstarsalior · 10 months ago

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Clone high season 3!!!!!! Let’s goooooo!!!!!

Episode 1

Joan is being exulted from the group :( also Jesus is here!!! I miss him..

Omg roll call song!!! Joan pls let them sing. Jackie the ripper….. Grell Sutcliff vibes. Ohg Vincent!!!!! The blorbo…

Oh yeah, the new teacher is definitely suspicious, and that new guy and Harriet are totally gonna be a thing. For some reason Abe and JFK feel a bit off? Also the husbands…I love them.

His I forgot what it’s like to laugh at jokes in a show…

😔 rip to jfgosh….maybe…

Honest to god I too would also try to pick a color before graffiti it…I now love the bench creatures

The eyeball scene….gross.

Random person in the hat, I love you.

Why do people think Joan try to kill them? Like yeah, she throw everyone in a pit, but then they were led to a room to be brainwashed??? I can understand them think the pit would kill them or something but???? Murder?????

Episode 2

Cinnamon being a rising star of snorkeling but flailing, Mr b a sex worker who ran away from home…….the elements for a hurt/comfort fanfic are here…..👀👀

Maybe it’s just me, but this painting reminds me of Saint Sebastian. It might be the arrows?….

Marie….NooOOOOOOOO. (I literally screamed seeing her knees) tho it make me wonder, marries can fully speak with her head off. Can clone just, not die? Is this just silly cartoon logic, or can clone can lose body parts and keep going? If that’s the case then thats a major reason why Joan’s mom want to clones to be leaders, they could be physically be un-killable.

Everyone wanting to get out of their small rural/supern town….Mood. Pls pls pls let there be an indie type coming of age romance or friendship episode!!! Pls pls.

Abe going a sport team!! Again!!! JFK doing more sports!!! It’s cool to see Abe, JFK, and Confusious as a trio. And to see Abe not being romance focused, JFK too.

Vince trying out for cheerleading, Genghis too <3

It’s kind of weird to see Harriet as the cheer leader captain? I thought it would be Cleo since that more of a mean girl/popular stereotype? Harriet taking the mean girl role feels weird? Like last season she was a nervous theater kid who wants friends? Now she the cheer captain??? But also snappy. She the mean smart girl??

Cleo charter moment!!!!!!! Her caring about Frieda’s art and respect it!!!!

I love this episode

Episode 3

:( did JFK not have an accent anymore? It goes and goes..

Catherine the great x Anna Boleyn 👀 👀 oh that a cute ship!!! Also LGBT background characters let’s gooo!!!!!!

“I’ll happy let you take my virginity” Abe…ABE.

JFK not like the label “slut” :(

Oh my god is bi/pan jfk going be canon??? Also hella Abe x jfk vibes, nice

Christian rock…..do you think Jesus clone would be weird out by this music or like it?

Side note, Vincent isn’t an active Blecher Creature. So if he’s not that, not popular, is he middle ground? Are all the background characters just….middle ground?? (I’m thinking to much of the logic here)

Abe x JFK…:..boyfriends/QPR real <3

The whole “jfk didn’t want to do sex/be seen as a slut/want to do more things in life” is like, a good premise but the execution on this episode???? :/ idk.

Clone Cleo x 2 and cloe Frida x 3. 👀 👀

Oh neat, my thoughts about how other schools/people outside of Exclamation Point don’t know that clones exist!!!!

Abe did you puke that ring out or something else???

Episode 4

Oh neato, that how Harriet texts!!! It’s always cool to find out how fictional characters text and talk to people!! (That and it makes chat fic more realistic if you cope the canon way characters text)

The husbands have sex dolls of each other….👀👀

HE IS NOT THAT BUFF I REFUSE to believe that’s canon

Confucius breaking up with Harriet. I mean, I don’t think looking at another man is cheating? But it’s nice to know that is isn’t in the wrong or did anything bad, well beside the whole bear thing.

Episode 5

Oh, so Confucius and Jain are fake dating…

Oh my god there doing a manic pixie dream girl…

JFK and Abe nothing seeing and hearing the shoulder angels and demons…..👀👀

Mr B acting more human <3

SKUNKY POO IS A GIRL?????

Harriet’s dance outfit is cute.

Ok, Joan and Confusious talking by the water, then then dancing was super cute. Also Abe and Mary? They seems like a cute couple. Also skinny poo and cinnamon dancing in the rain was nice (wish it was Mr b tho… :( )

Oh nice, Harriet and what’s his name ended on good terms! I was afraid they were going to fight.

Ennui = a feeling of weariness and dissatisfaction. 👀 JFK having these feelings because the shoulder angel and devil aren’t there, representing inner conflict. 👀 👀

I really like Confusious’s character growth, he’s not into technology to find praise and company. He’s friends with Abe and JFK and him and Joan dating seems….healthy? Tho I do wish Joan stay single, 2 out of 3 seasons she’s been dating someone and it would be cool to see her be herself and do things she likes to do.

#long post #clone high #clown high season 3 #fandom #clone high spoilers #my thoughts #clone high s3

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takaraphoenix · 2 years ago

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So DCeased ended, huh.

And I’m... it wasn’t the worst ending, but I’m also not happy with it?

After that amazing twist with Alfred becoming the Spectre, specifically to save Damian’s life, to save his last son (still kinda pissed that Cass is... just... not acknowledged at all as a Bat Fam member I mean she is alive?? She barely appeared at all in this run? And doesn’t seem to matter to Alfred and Damian at all?).

Alfred did this great thing to save Damian... just so Damian could now sacrifice himself for the universe. Wow. How satisfying. /s

And it was somehow made more infuriating by how dumb everyone around him seemed? Cassie not realizing that this was a sacrifice play. I’m sorry, but if someone says they have “a weapon” and “can’t tell you what it is” but leave you, their romantic interest, behind on purpose... then the weapon is them, it’s a sacrifice play, they’re not coming back. You don’t need to be Wonder Woman to figure that out, but also Wonder Woman should definitely be able to see through that.

It absolutely infuriated me how dumb this made Cassie look, on top of sidelining her. Not giving Wonder Woman anything to do in this final battle against EREBUS, the ancient GREEK deity of darkness. Really? You really did that? You made the Big Bad a Greek god and then you benched Wonder Woman?

But hey! Ares got to go and play! And the Black Racer! And... so many more guys. It was a real... sausage party up there. Oh, yeah, and Dinah, I guess. Wow. One woman, huh.

No, seriously, benching Wonder Woman here? And not letting Cass as Shazam do anything anymore? Making Cass Shazam had been such a cool move but then she kind of... never really... appeared anymore, aside from in the background? And I gotta repeat where I couldn’t hold my tongue earlier, because seriously. They made Alfred mourning Bruce, Jason, Dick and Tim such a big deal. And yeah, it should be. Absolutely. But... how do the women not matter at all? So Steph and Babs aren’t ‘family’, so their deaths don’t have that much impact (it would still be nice if they would have been mourned too, to any degree), but Cass is family and Cass is still alive and Cass is not included in anything. There are no moments between her and Alfred, between her and Damian. What the fuck.

The way Damian mentions that Cass is training the new Kryptonians just... reminded me that Cass exists - or rather, showed me that the writers remember that Cass exists - and that makes it somehow worse, I don’t know.

Speaking of the new Kryptonians, another underused female character really was Kara though. The way this series opened up around Kara, I... falsely assumed her to be a central figure and play a... bigger part... But... uh... she... really didn’t... I mean really didn’t. Even the reunion with Clark was kind of a throwaway moment that faded away and then she was gone, because untrained new Kryptonian.

But the severe underusage of its badass female characters aside, the sacrifice play.

I don’t believe that it was necessary. There’s no way, no way, that they couldn’t have found a better solution for it. That they couldn’t have delivered it on the damn USB drive that it was on, or whatever. Heck. Put it on a mouse and sacrificed the mouse, sorry, PETA.

But Damian had this whole arc over this series, and Alfred did this great thing to save him, and now we’re just back to “yeah I do everything on my own, and now I gotta die to save the universe, all on my own, without even trying to figure out a better solution with my team”, when one of the great things about this series was when there were all these great and different characters working together.

Also I honestly wish they had not included the part with Damian’s birthday and him turning eighteen. For one, it made the sacrifice much... sadder. He was just a kid, still. I had genuinely assumed that much more time had passed in-universe and that Damian was 20+ at this point. And the other part, it would have made the Damian/Cassie less weird if they had not gone out of their way to announce that, because she’s... Tim’s age, so five-ish years older than him. So it seemed like a bit of a choice to emphasize that.

On the overall? Man, that finale was a... letdown. Which sucks, because I really had enjoyed it so far. This had so much potential. It was great. I hate when something is amazing, but then... just doesn’t stick the landing, because a mediocre or bad ending can sour the whole story and this... did that.

So now Alfred haunts space, mourning his sons. The ending doesn’t fit the journey, in my opinion. It was always a journey of hope, Clark and Pam and Jason and Jon and Alfred everyone always projected hope to... get a new start. And, obviously there were losses, there had to be, but the literal final shot of this was Alfred, all alone, staring into a vast universe created by Damian’s death, thinking about his dead sons, thinking about the past. Not the hope, not the future. We don’t even return to Earth in this finale, we don’t even see them start to rebuild, we don’t see hope’s seedling, we don’t see a joyful future that Damian brings, we only the sadness. And that stands in contrast to this message of trying to find hope that the story kept telling throughout.

Hope? Hope would have been Victor Stone, who has the intellect of Brainiac and the knowledge of Apokolips, actually figuring out a better solution, instead of being robbed of his agency by a self-sacrificial teenager who got to explode into a new universe because they couldn’t think of implanting this into a mouse or something. It would have been seeing them all return to Earth, rebuild. Seeing what Harley and Pam have been rebuilding down there already, and those from Earth-2 finding their place back home. Seeing Alfred and Leslie, happy, with Damian (and Cass...). That’s what everyone has worked toward for this entire journey.

#DCeased: War of the Undead Gods #DCeased Spoilers #Cass Cain #Cassie Sandsmark #Kara Zor-El #Damian Wayne #Alfred Pennyworth #DCeased

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heartbreak-sandwich · 1 year ago

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CHAPTER TWO: YOU JUST HAVE TO MEAN IT

NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI

Part One if you would like to start at the beginning 💕 Part Three if you're ready to move on.

Chapter Two is SFW content (though later there WILL be NSFW content, therefore, the 18+ label) - here's slightly more background, but we'll get into some feels this time.

A/N: HERE IS PART TWO! This contains some feels, and I think this is a moment that so many of us have needed - at least I have. A little more background setup, and the next part will get the story moving a little more. I still don't have a title (*surprise*), but I think that will come along as the story unfolds. As usual, check the tags for hints on what's to come, and THANK YOU SO MUCH for reading, and I love you very much!!

Eddie scooped up the mushy green pile of guacamole on his plate with two fingers and flung it onto the ground with a glop. The street tacos were more than satisfactory for 25 cents apiece, and everyone was chattering about that night’s impending show with their mouths full and their hands greasy.

“What do you mean you’re not going to sing Pat Benetar?! Everyone loves Pat Benetar,” Steve protested, breaking out into a very unique rendition of “Shadows of the Night.”

“It’s not that kind of music, Steve,” you replied through a giggle. Steve gestured as if to say “whatever” and indulged himself in another taco while Eddie started refastening his rings to each of his digits, taking care to make sure they were all facing the correct way.

“Harrington, while I am no music taste basher, I will say that you are a pathetically poor judge of genre. What does the phrase ‘progressive metal music’ mean to you, dear boy?” Eddie broke out his Olde English accent for this question, and Steve knew it was only a matter of moments before you and Eddie both started teasing him mercilessly, and he didn’t have the means to defend himself against a Hellfire ambush right now.

“Well, it’s about time to get going back,” he managed to convey around his last bites of street taco. “You don’t want to be late for work twice in one day.” Your mouth fell open in mock offense as you backhanded him on the shoulder before standing up from the park bench you were all sitting at.

As the three of you made your way back up the sidewalk to Trax, you decided to share what had been floating around in your head since you left the shop. “It was kind of weird seeing Billy be so unphased about you running into him. You stepped right on his shoe, and he didn’t even complain. Not a single insult. Did you notice?”

Steve scoffed. “Yeah. That doesn’t make me any more glad to see him though.” He kicked a rock a few feet out in front of him, and Eddie took a skip forward and made the next kick.

“I don’t know,” Eddie mused. “I think something might have clicked in the douchebag. Tommy was trying to pay some kid to key my van when I picked Dustin up from school the other day, and Billy totally rocked his shit in front of everyone. Told him he’d be dead if Billy ever caught him trying to mess with me again.”

“What?!” you and Steve gawked in unison, both of you coming to an abrupt halt.

“And you didn’t think to, maybe, I don’t know, mention that?” Steve’s eyebrows almost met his hairline in surprise. “Dude, how could you not tell us this?” You could tell he was actually slightly offended, so you decided to soften the mood with an irrelevant question.

“And what was Billy doing in the parking lot of the high school?” You resumed the game of kick the rock so everyone would continue down the sidewalk again.

“Picking up Max is my best guess,” Eddie replied, taking his skip forward for the rock.

“Yeah, well, a few good deeds don’t erase a whole year of being a total prick to anything that breathes,” Steve grumbled, keeping his eyes on the ground and taking his turn to kick the rock.

“Out of any of us here, you would do well to remember that people can change if they want to, Steve,” you said, giving him an affectionate side eye. “It wasn’t even two years ago that you were King Steve, being just as much of a prick to Jonathan as Billy was to you. Give him some time. See what it’s all about. That’s my suggestion.”

Steve sighed heavily and gestured toward the front door of Trax as Eddie opened it for you. No one said another word as you entered the building, sloppy salutes signaling the end of the conversation, and the two guys continued on their return to Steve’s car.

–

Screeching tires alerted everyone in the Hawkins High parking lot of the arrival of a slick blue Camaro. Billy flicked his cigarette out of his window and saw Max swiftly approaching his passenger side door, her ginger hair flowing steadily behind her, skateboard resting on her shoulder. She slid into the seat beside Billy’s and clunked her bag and board down by her feet.

“Max,” Billy said dryly, keeping his aviator sunglasses fixed on the windshield in front of him.

“I’m not late,” she replied, a slight tone of annoyance in her voice.

“I know,” Billy stated, reminding himself to soften his jaw when he spoke to her. “I just want to talk when we get home, if you’re not, you know, busy or whatever.” Max just stared at him, incredulous.

“You want to…talk? About what?”

“Nothing, okay? Nothing until we get home.” The sharpness returned to Billy’s voice as he gripped the gearshift and peeled them out of the parking lot. Max was completely lost for words, but she complied with Billy’s instruction and tried to zone in on Ted Nugent’s “Wango Tango” for the trillionth time as Billy sped down the side roads to their home on Cherry Lane.

Max hurried through the front door and straight to her room to discard her things. She was eager to know what Billy could possibly want to talk about, but she was also afraid to ask. After everything they had experienced this past year, it could be anything, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for anything again. She turned around to find Billy standing in her doorway with his eyes down at his shoes. Why was he acting so weird? This wasn’t like him at all, and it made a hint of anxiety start to creep down her neck, giving her the shivers.

“Billy?” she said, unable to hide the concern in her voice.

Billy shuffled his feet where he stood and started to fidget with his sunglasses in his hands, still not making eye contact with Max. “I need to ask you something, and you have to swear not to make fun of me. I’m dead serious,” he said, his ocean blue eyes finally making stone cold eye contact.

“Okay. I promise.” Max’s voice shook slightly, and she took a seat on her bed to steady herself.

“I need to know how to apologize,” Billy admitted, his eyes falling back down to the ground.

“Apologize? For what?” He must have hit his head, Max thought. There was no way this was actually Billy talking.

“For being…ugh.” Billy let out a painful sigh and took the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “For making everyone’s lives hell this past year.” Max’s eyes were wide, her mouth hanging open in shock. He had apologized to her, and they had what she would consider a pretty fair conversation about their sibling relationship, but this was completely unexpected. He wanted to apologize to The Party?

“I mean, I guess you just…say it, you know? You just say it, and you hope for the best, and that’s all you can do.”

Billy was unimpressed. “That’s it?” he asked with a scoff. “That can’t be it. It needs to be more. Needs to be better than that or there’s no way in hell they’re going to take me seriously.”

“You just have to mean it,” Max replied, her eyes softening as she came to the realization that this was really important to him. She had never seen him like this before, and it was clear that he really felt remorse, and he wanted something to change.

“Max,” Billy choked, his voice breaking. A tear fell from his face making a tiny tap on his shoe, and Max stood up abruptly.

“Billy, it’s going to be okay,” she said, her own eyes welling up now. She had only ever seen him cry once.

“Max, I’m so sorry. I know you said you forgave me, and I know things have been different ever since July, but I’m just so sorry.” Billy was speaking softly through sobs now. “Max, I can’t be the same as I was. I can’t explain it. Nothing can ever be the same as it was before everything that happened, and I don’t know who I am anymore.” Billy brought his hands up to his face, covering his eyes as he continued to choke out words as best as he could. “I’m so sorry, Max. You didn’t deserve that. Nobody did. I need to make things right, but I don’t know how.”

“Billy.” Max stook a few steps toward him, palming his shoulder gently. “I know there has always been a part of you that wants to be good. I forgave you because I really believed that. All you can do is say it, mean it, and try. Just keep trying.” Billy reached his arms out and gave Max a firm hug. He had no idea how badly he had always needed to hear that, and in that moment, he found himself eternally grateful he had a little sister.

After a few seconds of the second hug they had ever shared, Billy let go, and Max took a step back, both of them wiping their eyes, noses red and puffy from the flare of emotion. Billy patted Max on the shoulder and pivoted on his heel to leave her bedroom. Max turned her attention to her backpack and mentally prepared herself to start her homework.

“Max?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.” Billy half smiled, and Max could tell his gratitude was genuine.

“Anytime.” She returned his half smile, and Billy sauntered away into the other room. Max found herself, for the first time ever, feeling really proud of her brother.

#stranger things #stranger things fic #oc #billy hargrove #steve harrington #eddie munson #max mayfield #dustin henderson #hawkins high school #eventual stedie #platonic stobin #billy positive #stranger things oc #slow burn #billy hargrove fic

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kaorusetafangirl · 2 years ago

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MAFUSAKI FANFIC!!

HI HELLO I GOT YOU FOR THE CONTROSEKA SECRET SANTA THING AND I LOVE MAFUSAKI NOW SO I WILL WRITE THEM FOR YOU!!!( ALSO WHEN WORDS ARE WRITTEN WITH APOSTROPHES IN THE DIALOGUE IT’S ENGLISH!!!!!) ALSO IM SO SORRY IT’S ON TUMBLR I DONT HAVE AN AO3 ACCOUNT AND I DONT USE WATTPAD

asahina mafuyu, the second year intelligent prodigy that all of her peers both admired and envied. she was not very used to being invited to hang out with people, due to quick assumptions that she would not have time to do such silly things like karaoke or simply study with other people besides herself.

maybe she just didn’t want to, or she really was caught up in her studies so she could make her mom proud of her, just like she wanted.

why though, did she feel so lonely her entire life? why would she often find herself in her childhood years, pondering the feeling of how it would be to have a sleepover with a few friends? was it weird that she had never attended many group events unless they related to academics?

as she got older, she would begin to understand her emotions less and less, no one would be there to help her, and she was too afraid to ask for assistance.

although she was able to hold up a facade in front of people, there were still a few people who realized she was too flawless to be real. too kind to not have ulterior motives, yes?

tenma saki, a girl just one year younger than her. she did not notice her too much for the most part, but she would always make sure to greet her with a smile when she would pass bye her.

“good morning asahina-san!” with a wide smile plastered on her face. mafuyu’s response was normally a nod with a light smile in return. not that she was disinterested, but when they held conversations, she did not seem to talk too much during them. most of the time, it would get cut off by the sound of a bell or she would claim she was needed somewhere, so she would kindly excuse herself and leave.

it wasn’t that saki didn’t mind it, she understood that mafuyu was known to be a very busy student, often being seen busy with club activities or simply studying. although, she wished she could get to know her more sincerely. how was she so kind to everyone? how come there was not too much background information on her? she decided that she would attempt to get to know her better.

saki decided she would come up with a little plan in order to get her to hang out with her, a simple one that she was bound to agree to.

as saki slowly walked, purposely trying to run into mafuyu but making it seem more like a coincidence, she saw dark purple hair tied up neatly into a high ponytail, held in place with a yellow scrunchie.

“asahina-san! are you going to have your lunch now?” saki asked, catching up with her target.

mafuyu turned back and had the same simple gaze, she seemed so bright but why did it feel so fake?

‘“oh, hello tenma-chan, yes i am going to go eat my lunch outside, my classroom is a bit crowded,” she replied, somewhat reluctant but not rudely

“that’s great! do you mind if i can join you? i have a small request if it’s not too sudden or rude,” this request was a part of her plan as well, yes, a simple but meaningful request

“that’s alright, sure.. what is your request?”

“i’m struggling in english, and i was told that you were known for being an honor student in the class! i’m very behind having missed so much school over these last few years.”

“oh, yes i can help with that. what are you having trouble with?”

“my teachers told me to work on my pronunciation and. ‘pronouns?’ they’re a bit weird.”

“alright, i can help with that. we can sit here,” mafuyu told her as they arrived to an empty bench under a shaded tree.

mafuyu took out her bento which contained a very nice assortment of healthy foods, neatly packed in. saki watched with curious eyes, this girl was really good at everything, wasn’t she?

“wow, did you make that? it looks amazing!” saki asked before they began their mini-lesson

“oh, my lunch? no, my mom makes them for me. she is a great cook,” she replied while beginning to eat part of the meal.

“oh wow, your mom must be great! my older brother helps me with mine!”

saki noticed mafuyu slightly frown at the comment, but only momentarily before she responded with a nod and smile while chewing food.

they began working on saki’s english over the duration of lunch, and saki was able to learn a bit, although not too much, about her upperclassman. she noticed that she was slightly indecisive, hesitating to answer simple questions such as “what’s your favorite color?” but she did not want to push into it too much. she also noted that she was slightly awkward, and didn’t seem to talk too much unless saki asked something or while they were still going over the material on english.

the process might be slow, but if it was worth the wait, saki would be patient to get to know her better. who knows? maybe one day they will be close enough to go by first names, or hug when they see each other. is little saki is beginning to form a hallway crush as they call it? maybe she is.

HIHI THANK YOU FOR READING!!! SORRY IT’S NOT TOO ROMANTIC, I PLANNED ON ADDING MORE TO IT BUT I DONT REALLY KNOW YOUR PERSONAL PREFERENCES SO I JUST STARTED MORE OF A LITTLE SCENARIO ON THE STARTING ACTION OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP!!! ANYWAY I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS BECAUSE IT WAS FUN TO WRITE! MAFUSAKI THE WORLD ☆

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arpov-blog-blog · 1 year ago

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..."For Republicans, it’s a chance to capitalize on a once-in-a-generation map that massively empowers their base of rural white voters to build a sustainable GOP majority that could take a decade or more for Democrats to reverse.

The GOP, however, is already suggesting its focus may be much, much narrower.

Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell told CNN in May that the party is concentrating on a relatively small number of races where its chances of victory are greatest: Montana, Ohio and West Virginia — states where former President Donald Trump won by eight percentage points or more in 2020 — and Pennsylvania, where party operatives believe former hedge fund CEO Dave McCormick, who lost last year’s primary to Mehmet Oz, could make a formidable challenger to Democratic Sen. Bob Casey.

The rest of the map is at risk of becoming irrelevant.

“I don’t think anyone sees a real possibility for us in Michigan, Wisconsin and Nevada of winning those races,” said a Republican who has worked on Senate races and requested anonymity to speak candidly, referring to three presidential swing states where Republicans should, theoretically, be in contention.

McConnell, always known for choosing his words carefully, left the impression the party was all but giving up in some perennial battlegrounds, either because their benches are too MAGA or because McConnell can’t find the recruits that fit his preferred profile — a boardroom Republican with a business or military background who also has millions available to self-fund a campaign.

With just two seats standing between McConnell and a GOP Senate majority, the Kentucky Republican may not have to think that big to get what he wants.

“The philosophy of McConnell and his world has always been to think smaller, that you put all your eggs in the basket that you’re most likely to win, rather than going on the offensive trying to find new baskets,” the Republican operative said, noting that Republicans’ attempts at going big backfired spectacularly in 2022.

“We really thought it was going to be an opportunity to go on the offensive and win a big majority, and that didn’t work,” this person said. “So for survival’s sake, the party can’t afford to posture that way, because people are going to compare it to what happened last cycle.”

McConnell himself acknowledged there’s still room for Republicans to “screw it up” ― his swipe at the slate of unelectables who killed the GOP’s hopes for a Senate majority in 2022. Who could forget Oz, the celebrity doctor who didn’t seem to know anything about the state he was running in? Or Herschel Walker, who lied about having fathered two secret children? Or weird tech guy Blake Masters, who touched a political third rail when he talked about privatizing Social Security?

For JB Poersch, the president of Senate Majority PAC and a chief political lieutenant of Senate Majority Leader Chuck Schumer (D-N.Y.), McConnell’s comments revealed not a lack of ambition but an acknowledgment that there isn’t much the GOP establishment can do to avoid the nomination of politically toxic candidates in certain states.

“I’m not sure this is an exercise in interest as much as dealing with the minefield of Donald Trump and MAGA-right candidates,” Poersch said.

He added a note of caution for Democrats, whose own expansive ambitions have crashed and burned in the past: “There’s a lot about this map that remains unsettled. There are a lot of places where we don’t know who the [GOP] candidates are or what that looks like.”

Already, some top Republicans have passed on running rather than competing for MAGA votes or tussling — perhaps literally — for Donald Trump’s endorsement. Fortunately for McConnell this time around, Trump doesn’t seem to have much interest in playing kingmaker as he runs for president and confronts mounting legal challenges. But Trump could again blow up the Senate map for his party by elevating candidates based solely on their loyalty to him."

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the-infamous-coat-of-baron-zemo · 2 years ago

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My Heart Is A Safehouse For You | Part 3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Santiago Garcia x Reader

Word Count: 3,964

Rating: T

Summary: Set prior to the events in the Triple Frontier universe. There is a 3 year contract to obtain intelligence and dismantle as many cartel related activities as possible - hopefully leading up to toppling one of the most prolific traffickers in Columbia. Can the reader help the team decipher the cartel’s next movements, and will they possibly lose their heart in the process?

Notes: Taking all the background liberties with this one. Littering everyone’s backstory we know from the film and pretending the guys banded back together for a 3 year contract mission, that paid them pretty decently and kept them relatively at low risk.

Not beta read or proofread.

----------

Wednesdays were typically a training day. In the morning, the guys would fill their time with working out, breakfast, and heading to the shooting range out back. Then Tom would bring everyone around and work out what leads to follow or any recon that could be assessed for an upcoming op.

If there wasn’t any new intel, then the guys would go off and do their own thing until later.

Today was a pretty slow working day, which was a nice change of pace. You normally don’t join the boys when they workout, but you didn’t sleep the night before. Nightmares constantly plaguing your mind. So you were first out the door, getting an early morning run in. By the time you returned, the guys were in full swing with their routine.

You enter through the side entrance, which leads straight into the gym. It must have been Santiago’s turn to choose the playlist for the day, because Metallica was blaring through the speakers.

As you walk into the gym area, you refill your water bottle from the filtration system. None of them had noticed you yet, since you were tucked away in the corner of the gym. Taking this rare moment in, you creep a bit closer. You lean against an edge of wall, sipping your drink and admiring the view.

Tom was laying down on a bench, lifting some weights. Benny and Will were sparring towards the open space in the back of the room. Frankie was cycling, staring out the window with a view of the field. Garcia was furiously wailing away at a punching back in the opposite corner of the room.

You could calculate they all had probably been at it for a good 45 minutes. Santiago had built up a sweat on the front of his chest and back.

Normally you wouldn’t stare at them so openly, but none of them were facing in your direction - so you let your guard down a minute, Your heart always does a weird flip-flop inside your chest whenever your eyes land on Santiago.

You really needed to find a way to get over him, but it was difficult since he - you know, lives with you.

There was a lull in the music; so you decided this was your chance to make your presence known.

“Morning,” you say, a bit louder than usual.

Benny looks up from circling his brother and raises a gloved hand to wave at you. Will took that moment as an opportunity to knock his baby brother to the ground with a right cross.

Ooooh.

You suck in an invisible breath through your teeth. Ouch.

“How many times do I have to tell you? Never drop your guard. Even with a beautiful lady standing on the sidelines,” Will chides his brother, but offers his hand in assistance to help him up.

Benny bats his hand away in irritation.

“Beautiful, you say? Sounds suspect. You must want something from me today if you’re pulling out the big guns this early in the day,” you snicker at Will, amused with the situation. You mouth an ‘I’m sorry’ to Benny, as you walk up to them.

Benny punches his brother in the stomach as retaliation. He just grins at you and waves it off.

You wave at Fish and Tom, who have decidedly ignored the intrusion. Turning your head to greet Santiago, you notice he’s stopped working the punching bag and is aggressively tearing off his gloves, a scowl on his face.

Who pissed in his Cheerios this morning?

“Finish your match, I’ll be over here,” you voice to Will, as you change course and head towards Garcia. Santiago has now taken a seat on one of the benches along the wall. You decide to sit next him, handing him your water, “Hey you.”

Garcia jerks, not expecting anyone to sit down next to him. He really was in rare form this morning for you to unnerve him.

“You okay?,” you prod, still holding out the water bottle for him to take.

Garcia sits back and leans against the wall, taking the offered water.

“M’fine. Thanks,” he says, tipping the water bottle at you in appreciation.

“No, you’ve got your grumpy face on. What’s up?” you nudge him gently with your leg.

“I don’t have a grumpy face,” Garcia mutters.

You snort.

“Pope. I’ve known you long enough to know when something is eating at you,” you raise your eyebrows in response, cocking your head to the side.

“It’s nothing. I’ll shake it off. Just woke up this way.”

Okay, you couldn’t really push him. It’s very possible he didn’t get any sleep either, and you got the feeling, pushing his buttons wouldn’t be a very good idea.

In fact, giving him some space, seemed to be what he wanted.

“Alright.”

Now it was Garcia’s turn to raise his eyebrows.

“That’s it?,” he questions.

“Yup.

“Just like that?”

“Just like that,” you calmly reply.

“What’s wrong with you?,” Garcia suspiciously asks.

“Lots. Probably,” you deadpan to him.

The beginnings of a smile appear at the corner of his lips.

You study Santiago as he starts to stretch his legs out. It looked like he was planning to say something to you, but sucks in a pained breath and clutches his left knee instead.

“Knees aching again I take it?,” you inquire.

Garcia concentrates for a moment before nodding, rubbing at his knee lightly.

Not wanting to see Santiago in any pain, you move to sit on the floor, tapping his leg in the process, “Get down here.”

“I’ll be fine. Just need a minute,” Garcia says.

“Nu-uh. Not taking any macho bullshit today. Get your ass down here Garcia and let me help you.”

“Yes m’am,” he murmurs, moving his body to the floor next to you. “What exactly are you going to do to me?”

“I think I can help alleviate some of the pain you’re in. I’m not a doctor, but I’ve researched some methods that may help reduce the soreness you get after an intense workout or run,” you answer, scooting over to one of his legs. Your hands hover over the knee you’re sitting next to, “May I?”

Santiago searches your eyes for something, but he nods, bracing his arms behind him.

You lower your hands to his knee and begin to place your fingers over certain sections around the outside pocket of his knee. Pressure points that could relief pain and achiness for periods of time.

Garcia tenses at first. You dart your eyes over to him, making sure he’s okay. He purses his lips together, but gives you the go ahead to continue.

You move your fingers swiftly and apply pressure. You heard large exhales come from Santiago as you worked on him. Your fingers are pressing on the side of his leg right below his knee cap, when you hear Garcia moan.

“Oh, fuck,” Pope drawls out.

You pause, glancing up at him.

“No - please. Continue, that felt amazing,” his chest heaving.

A tiny smile graces your lips before nodding and applying more pressure once again.

Another smothered groan comes from Santiago. Fuck your life. If he keeps making these kind of noises, you’re not going to survive helping him and you’ll be the one in need of medical attention. You try to concentrate on his knee and nothing else. You managed to make it through the one leg and move to the other side of him to work the other knee out.

Now that you had a better idea of what pressure points help to reduce the pain in Santiago’s knees, this one didn’t take as long.

More moans come from Garcia, and you pray to whatever God is out there to end your agony. Why had you decided to do this?

Oh yeah, because you’re stupidly in love with him.

You didn’t want to call Garcia out on his noises of relief. He’d only razz the shit out of you the remainder of the day, and you couldn’t deal with that.

Thankfully Fish steps in.

“For fuck’s sake, Pope. Get a grip, you act like you’ve never been touched before.”

There were a chorus of agreements from the rest of the guys. You were facing everyone now, working on Garcia’s other knee, and you whispered a ‘Thank you.’ to them.

“Que se jodan chicos,” Garcia says, twisting his head to the side to look at them.

Will, of course, was giving you a very pointed look.

You shift your gaze to Santiago and notice his eyes are closed. Lifting one hand from his leg, you flip off the older Miller brother in response.

He just huffs at you, throwing a towel in your direction. It hits your face.

Because of course it does.

You pull the hand towel off your body and toss it to the side, making a face at Will for his action. You move your hand back to Garcia, when he shakes his leg loose from you.

Turning your head to meet his eyes, Garcia has that scowl on his face again.

“We’re done,” Pope says, tight-lipped.

“I’m almost finished,” you respond quietly, not sure why his mood shifted so dramatically.

“It’s fine,” Garcia tersely replies, jumping up from the floor to grab his towel off the bench.

Santiago moves to leave the room, before stopping to spin around, “They do feel better. Thanks.”

And then he’s gone.

“It wasn’t anything you did,” Tom’s voice floats over to you.

“He’s been in a mood the past few days,” Frankie says.

You hum in response. Unsure of how to take that information in.

Getting up from the floor, you grab your abandoned water bottle from the bench. The guys start filing out, leaving you and Frankie alone.

“Hey, don’t mind Pope. He’s not mad at you,” Fish says, walking up to you.

“Do you know what’s bothering him?”

You see Frankie still momentarily, “It’s nothing. Just something Pope needs to work out on his own.”

“I see,” you murmur.

“You going to the farmer’s market today?,” Frankie asks, clearly trying to change the subject.

You flip your wrist over to read the time, “Hmm. Yeah, it’s still early enough, you wanna come along?”

“Actually, yeah - I do. I’m cooking again tonight, and I’d like to pick up a few ingredients.”

You perk up hearing this news.

“Great! I’ll meet you at the car in 30?”

“Copy that. Wheels up in 30 mi rayo de sol,” Fish smirks.

You laugh and lean into Frankie, pushing him towards the hallway.

OOOOO

The farmer’s market was every Wednesday and Saturday. Usually, you went by yourself. It was a nice way to get out of the house from time to time. As much as you adore your boys, sometimes having a quiet moment to yourself was needed.

Frankie was surprisingly good at picking out fruit and vegetables. He claims he’s practicing for his future wife, wherever she may be.

It was a beautiful day. Early enough in the morning that the heat of the day was still a few hours off.

You and Fish are strolling through various vendors, occasionally stopping to make a purchase. At first, you thought Frankie wanted to go out; so he could talk to you about Santiago without any prying ears or eyes around, but no such luck.

At one of the vendors stops, Frankie was bartering with one of the women selling a particular fruit he needed. You look around to the other shops nearby when you notice a man in a black hat, with a black scarf pulled up over his face, covering his nose and below.

You don’t give much thought to him at first; however as Fish finishes up his purchase and the two of you start walking again, you see the man also starting to travel in your direction. You’re trying not to make eye contact. You keep your head lowered and shuffle up next to Fish. He walks parallel to you and Frankie from the opposite side of the street.

Talking a chance on your hunch, you stop at a local vendor at the corner. The man in the dark hat, stops as well, pretending to have dropped an item.

“Hey sunshine. you coming?” calls Frankie.

“Yup, thought I might have needed something here. Sorry,” you shout.

You turn to meet up with Frankie. You bow your head down and to the side to view out of your peripheral vision. The man also starts walking again.

This was not good.

You hurry your steps to Fish, ever so slightly. Once you reach Frankie, you grip his arm and throw it over your shoulder.

“Uh, everything okay?,” Frankie asks.

You lean into Fish as he tugs you closer, jostling the bag in his other hand.

“I think we’re being followed,” you whisper to him. “Guy in his late 30s, black hat, black scarf, other side of the street.”

You feel Fish take in a deep breath before turning his head to bury his nose at the crown of your head. He rubs the tip of his nose against you a few times, before laughing and tucking you further into his side.

“I don’t recognize him, but you’re right. We’re definitely being followed,” Frankie replies nonchalant.

You feel Fish’s posture changing. No longer is the carefree and fun loving man you know. Now, he’s more alert, tenser, critically taking in the area for more threats.

“It might be nothing,” you state.

“It’s definitely not nothing.”

You turn to peer up at Frankie, when he jerks you to the sidewalk with him. The force of the pull, causes you to stumble, but you recover and fall into step with him once again.

“On my signal, we’re are making a break for this corner, and will start sprinting. Understand?”

You swallow thickly, before nodding a couple times in acknowledgement.

“3, 2, 1 - now.”

You both turn the corner in normal stride, and then as soon as you’ve cleared it - start racing towards the next block. Frankie twists his head to check for our mystery stalker.

Frankie pulls you into an alleyway and drops his grocery bag on the floor as you press yourselves up against a wall, listening for footsteps.

You hear footfalls approaching, unfortunately it sounds like more than one person. Nervousness is creeping into your veins, and you try to calm yourself. Fish has bent down to peer around the corner trying to see if it’s the same guy following.

Frankie turns to you, lips in a grim line, shaking his head. You close your eyes and curse internally. Fish quietly makes his way back to you, back also pressed against the wall now. He holds up a finger to his lips in a hushed manner.

You nod.

Frankie points to a gap behind the dumpster several feet down the alleyway. You both look out to see how close the men are. Fish makes a motion with his hand to start moving when you see the man who’s been following you both. Frankie grabs you and pushes you toward the ground.

The situation is much more alarming as you’re both out in the open. You only hope the men don’t search the alleyway.

Surprisingly, none of the men walk down the alley. They give a cursory glance and keep moving forward. As they almost pass the alley, their backs are to you both now. Fish grabs your arm and gently pulls you up.

Frankie makes a move to lead further down the alley, when you hear metal clanging on the ground and a pipe rolling into the middle of the street.

You look down and realize Fish’s shoe caught on some scrap metal and released a pipe, causing the commotion.

Fish swears silently and gives you an apologetic expression.

Your head snaps up when you hear the tell-tale sign of a gun safety being released.

“Run,” Fish said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You both sprint to the opposite side of the alley, hearing the first ping of gun fire ricochet off the wall you were just at.

Trying to run in a zag zag motion, you careen into the alley wall, Fish right on your heels. As you turn to him, you see one of the men point a gun straight at him. Without hesitating, you grab Frankie by his shirt jacket and yank him to you, dragging him against the wall.

“Thanks,” he wheezes, wasting no time to grab your hand and keep running down the street.

You point to an opening across the street, leading back into heavy traffic, “There.”

“Let’s go.”

More gun shots go off, but thankfully miss.

You hear one of the gunman stop to reload, and you and Frankie nod at each other this is your chance to make a break for it and cross the alleyway back onto main street.

Sprinting as hard as you can, you both high tail it. You’re right behind Fish, hot on his heels when you hear shots firing again. Frankie looks back, and yells, “Move right!”

Frankie makes it around the corner, and you jump over a basket in your path slowing you momentarily. You pivot to your right and move towards Fish. Another round of gunfire pierces your ears. You feel a slice across your upper arm, as you rush to catch up to Frankie.

Now back into the farmer’s market, you work quickly to cross to the other side of the roadway, ducking behind cars and vendors in the hopes to lose your tails. Surely, they’d be more cautious opening fire with tons of people around.

Frankie sees another alleyway to duck into, in between two shops. There’s a cubby where you both can hide in. It leaves you some field of view to spot your attackers.

Your back is against the cubby wall as Fish is scanning the crowd. You can only see Fish’s facial expressions, but after a few moments he relaxes.

“They’ve passed us. But we should probably hang out for a bit longer before getting out of here,” Frankie whispers.

You bob your head in acknowledgement, noisily releasing the breath you’ve been holding. You raise your arm up, moving to thank Frankie but stop short, hissing in pain.

Bringing your other hand up to your arm, you grab hold of where the pain is coming from. When you pull your hand away, you see blood.

“Shit. Hey, come here,” Frankie says, alarm coloring his voice.

Fish tilts his head to look around and make sure no one is around. Once he’s satisfied, he gently drags you into more daylight to see your injury.

“I’m alright, Frankie.”

“Yeah, it looks like a graze, but it’s bleeding a lot. We need to stop this blood flow and get you back to the house,” Fish states matter of fact, trying to hide his worry. He peels off his outer shirt layer and rips off a strip, wrapping it around your wound.

“Thanks,” you murmur.

“Pope is going to murder me,” Frankie faintly whispers, eyes tight.

“What was that?,” not catching everything he said.

Finishing his makeshift bandage, Frankie ties off the wrap.

“We need to get back to the truck,” Fish relays.

“What if we take a taxi back?”

“Why?”

“Well, we don’t know who these guys are, - what if they staked out our car. We could take a taxi back and then wait until we know the truck isn’t being watched and send one of the guys to pick it up and bring it back. That way no one person is associated with the truck and it might make them think they had the wrong vehicle all along.”

“Anyone tell you, you’re a genius?” Frankie grins, the first genuine smile since your day had been derailed.

You shake your head at him and give a light squeeze to his hand.

“Thank you.”

“I think I see our ride, let’s get you home safe. I’m going to have the guy drop us off a few blocks earlier, so we can walk the rest of the way.”

“Sounds good. The adrenaline is wearing off. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

You cautiously hop into the nearest taxi, and give directions for your drop off point.

Once the driver arrives at your destination, you hop out of the car in a hurry. You do your best to keep a straight face, but your arm is beginning to throb.

“You still with me over there?” Fish saddles up next to you, arm hovering over your back in case you need the support.

“I’m going to be okay Frankie. Like you said, it’s just a graze,” you smile reassuringly at him.

As you approach the house, you motion to Frankie, “Let’s take the side entrance, I don’t want to drip blood all over the front of the house.”

“Seriously?” Frankie scoffs. “You’re injured and you’re worried about the house?”

You shrug, smiling through the blood loss, “You know how I feel about blood in my house, Fish.”

Frankie helps you inside and sits you down in the gym, while he moves to grab the first aid kit out of the closet.

“Sunshine. Hang in there, I need to get the kit from the kitchen. This one doesn’t have what we need to fix your wound. I’ll be right back,” Fish says, jogging down the hallway.

You sag on the floor, back resting on the bench nearest to you. Glancing at your arm, you see blood seeping through, but not quite as fast as before. Feeling a bit light-headed, you close your eyes to rest a minute, trying to ground yourself.

There’s a muffled shout from the hallway. You were unable to make out what was being said, but it definitely was some sort of heated exchange in Spanish.

Hurried steps were coming closer to you.

You roll your head to the side expecting to see Frankie with the first aid kit, but instead your eyes rest on Santiago, who’s crouching down next to you.

Gone was the grumpy attitude from earlier, his expression now shows something akin to panic.

“Hey - sweetheart. Can you focus on my voice? I need to stay awake okay?” Garcia softly says.

You clear your throat, blinking a few times, “I was expecting Frankie.”

“Yeah, well - I thought I’d give you something nice to look at while we wait.”

You know Garcia was trying to keep things light, but his voice was betraying him. He kept moving his eye line from your bleeding arm then back to your face. Always assessing.

“I appreciate the thoughtfulness,” you reply, a bit more color in your voice.

Santiago brought his hand up and began caressing your face from forehead to jaw.

“Are you in a lot of pain?” Garcia questions.

You snort at that remark. Maybe it was the blood loss. You weren’t at 100%, which is possibly why you made the mistake of mumbling out, “Please, Garcia. I’ve been through much worse.”

The hand on your face freezes.

“What did you say?” Pope whispers, eyes locked onto you.

You squeeze your eyes shut, just realizing what you said.

“Don’t worry about it,” you quietly express, resting your cheek in his hand. “Need a nap.”

“Fish, hurry up dammit,” Garcia yells, before dropping his voice again. “Hey - no nap time here. Later. We need to patch you up.”

You hum at Santiago, but the events of the day finally caught up with you. Blinking heavily, you slump to the side, feeling Garcia catch you.

“Just need 5 minutes,” you murmur, slurring your words.

Darkness creeps in, as you hear Santiago’s voice getting further and further away.

You drift off, with the feeling of Garcia’s arms firmly wrapping around you.

-----------

#santiago garcia #triple frontier #santiago garcia x reader #oscar isaac #will miller #frankie morales #benny miller #tom davis

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arndylevinbarber · 2 years ago

Text

Biscuit

Pairing: Jake Jensen x Reader

Rating: Fluffy McFluff!

WC: 717

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It was always nerve wracking whenever Jensen was away for a mission. You would never know if he'll ever be able to walk through the door and yell out "Honey I'm home!" with that toothy grin on his face, bright red ears and arms spread open for you to jump into. You would often clean while he's away, constantly distracting yourself from your worries.

He'll be fine. He's fine. He'll come back home.

Cleaning and rearranging the house at least three times is fine, right? Working remotely with a setting that isn't strict on hours definitely helped you ease your nerves but distraction can only do so much. On most days you find yourself sitting on the couch, using the television as background music as you let yourself wander in your daydreams and relive the past where Jake was home. Mornings were composed of "We don't even have to do anything today B..." and the ever so classic line "Five more minutes..."

You missed the whiny voice of your adorkable puppy. You miss how he would always hesitate to ask you a question thinking that it's dumb or how it doesn't matter and you would always think of how people from Jake's past treated him and why he feels that every thing that comes out of his mouth is nonsense. Providing the big man with reassurance and making sure that you get to communicate how you are always so much more than willing to listen to his rambles and answer his questions because you're with him till' the end of the line.

"Biscuit?"

You hear but didn't pay much attention to. You're probably going mad at this point. Maybe Beyonce really did have a point for making "Crazy In Love". That sweet nickname that Jake has for you that had the silliest backstory to.

It was the first time you two met. You were just a bystander that he mistook as another person undercover. You were sitting on a bench, enjoying the view of the beach on a hot summer day with your iced coffee in hand while the other reached down to retrieve a biscuit when all of a sudden–

"Hey sweetie sorry I'm late."

He sat down next to you and noticed the pack of biscuits and helped himself to a bite before moving closer and wrapping an arm around you.

"Excuse me?" You ask in disbelief, ready to pour your coffee all over the man.

"We don't have much time Biscuit, tell us what you know."

"All I know is I have a strong urge to dump my drink all over your face."

He looked shock which was ironic because you're the one who's beyond confused here. You just wanted to have a nice day to yourself, having a lil' snack while watching a beautiful view and in comes this man who thinks that–

"Shit... I'm so sorry. I think I got the wrong person."

"Yeah no shit goatee."

"What's wrong with my goatee?"

You felt bad. You didn't mean to make the man feel insecure for how he looked. You sneaked a look at him and you were greeted by a man filled with muscle who had a face that looked like he was a kicked puppy.

"Nothing, I just– fuck, I'm sorry. There's nothing wrong with your goatee. It was just weird how you did all that earlier."

"You're right... I'm sorry too but I gotta go now."

That was all he said before getting up to leave and you watched the man walk away scratching the back of his head and looking around while talking to himself. It wasn't until you looked down at your small pack of biscuits that you saw a piece of paper with a number scribbled on it.

"Smooth move, goatee." You quietly mumble to yourself.

Things were awkward when you two met again, a mix of "No no you go first." since it seemed like both of you would think at the same rate and had awfully bad timing at talking but overall, it was great. It's been two years since you two first held hands and a year since the first kiss. Life with Jake by your side felt more alive with his energy and you wouldn't ask for any more other than for him to come back home.

"Biscuit?" You were forced out of your thoughts as you looked to where you heard the sound.

"I'm home."

#jake jensen #jake jensen x reader

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iwadori · 4 years ago

Text

When the haikyu boys make you insecure PT 3(Osamu)

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six

word count: 1.2K

genre: angst,fluff

masterlist

Osamu

You and Osamu are recently a new couple

You are next door neighbours so you were always going around to eachothers houses (even before you were dating)

You were a great couple, with the love for food and cooking one the main things you have in common.

You started the day making yours and Osamu’s lunch. You were a dutiful girlfriend, he never asked or forced you to make him lunch for school but since he basically makes all your food whenever he comes around (unless your having your weekly cooking dates) imagine having Osamus food, you thought it was only fitting for you to return the favour. Especially since, he can get really busy with volleyball practice.

The bell rang for your lunch and you excitedly skipped over from your class over to the gym, where you see the boys already practicing.

You wait at the door for Osamu to spot you and walk over to you (like he usually does) but today it seems he was lost in his own head as he didn’t immediately spot you. When Atsumu nudges him and points in your direction, Osamu only looks your way gives you a slight head nod then returns to practice.

‘Thats weird’ you think. So your efforts don’t to waste, you go to the gym bench and call Osamu over. He trudges over, with an expression on his face which read as ‘I want to be anywhere BUT here.’

“Hey ‘Samu” you exclaim “I have your lunch for you!” you say handing him the box filled with his favourite foods. He mumbled a thanks and then stared at you, waiting for you to leave. “Well aren’t you going to try it?” you ask, looking up at him since he always at least takes one bite in front of you to give you his praises on how nice it is.

“Umm to be honest, I don’t really want your lunch today” he saids apprehensively “it’s a little...bland”

You mouth parts slightly in surprise, and you remind yourself in your head to NOT cry. Osamu, even before you were dating, has always been someone who you would want to try your cooking to hear his thoughts and opinoins and of course every one is entitled to their thoughts about things (especially food) but you didn’t know that he thought your food has been bland all this time and has been basically forcing him to take it.

You’ve been making him lunch nearly every day since you’ve started dating for christ sake, and all this time he’s thought it’s bland? You think back to all the times you have brought lunch, it would be the same routine day in and day out: you come to the gym, hand him his lunch, he takes a bite, compliments you and you leave. Has he even been eating it all? For all you know, he could take that one bite and when you leave just dash it in the bin... But he couldn’t be that cruel. Right?

“Oh okay, no worries” you say solemnly, standing up to leave “see you later.”

It was obvious that you were a bit upset, and that’s one thing that Osamu wanted to avoid. He sighs and was going to do his usual routine of tossing your lunch away before Atsumu stops him,

“a little harsh bro” he says to his brother putting his hand on the lunch “do you mind if I have that, I forgot to bring my own today” which Osamu let’s him it’s better for someone to eat it then it to be wasted for the umpteenth time.

Atsumu goes to sit down to try your food, and after taking his first bite he is in love ‘bland where?’ he thinks..’Osamu is tripping balls.’ He definitely needs more of your cooking, how has he missed out on your great food for so long he finishes munching all your food before sending you a text,

Atsumu: Hey Y/N please please please please please please PLEASE make me some lunch for school tommorow!!

Y/N: Sure ‘Tsumu, I'll bring it to you tommorow at practice.

You felt better after seeing Atsumu’s message, as you assumed he only messaged to make you feel better. Because if Osamu think’s your food is shit no doubt that his twin brother probably thinks that too.

The next day, you weren’t really excited for the day until you realise that one of the Miya twins wants your food... just not the one you wanted. Nevertheless, you still wanted to put all your effort into Atsumu’s lunch since it’s the least you could do.

When entering the gym again, your shocked to see Osamu patiently waiting for you at the enterance “Hi Y/N, about yesterday I-”

“Y/N!” shouted Atsumu interrupting his brother and running towards you “Did you bring it?” he looked at you like a dog wanting a bone.

“Bring what?” asked Osamu in the background

“Yes I did Atsumu” you say getting the lunch you made out of your bag “Here you go ‘tsumu”

“Thanks Y/N!” says Atsumu excitedly running over to the benches to eat it, leaving you and Osamu.

“Hi ‘samu” you say politely

“Hey babe, about yesterday I didn’t mean t-”

“It’s fine, everyone's entitled to their own opinion” you say, you look over to Atsumu as he is going in on the lunch you made him making your heart swell and ache at the same time, making you happy that someones enjoying your food but reminding you of the fact that Osamu hasn’t liked it for all this time.

“No, I was wrong I was really just being a dick and to be honest I’m not really apologising for what I said it’s just I said it and how long it took me” he said.

Not going to lie, you were kind of appreciated his apology you didn’t just want him to take back his words and lie about what he said and you were mainly mad about how he just said it to you and how he made you waste a whole bunch of food.

“ ‘Samu it’s fine, I'm still hurt by what happened yesterday but I think I'll forgive you if a certain someone provides me with lunch for the next month” you say making him laugh

“That is doable, and I just want to clarify I do like the food you make just not all of it Y/N but I am sorry.”

“It’s fine, and even if you don’t want me to make you food I can always cook for the ‘better Miya’” you say mockingly making him ruffle your hair.

You did get Osamu to make you the rest of your lunches every day until the end of the year, making your days better as you got to taste his amazing food. Of course, you still had your cooking dates with you improving on your skills and making food that (in yours and Atsumu’s opinoin) was better then Osamus.. But you wont tell him that.

Authors Notes: I really hated this lol, this is probably my worst one so far lol I am sorry how shitty and short it is and I PROMISE that part 4 will be better guys! Hope you have a good day <3

#haikyu x reader #haikyuu x reader comfort #haikyuu fluff #haikyu angst #osamu fluff #osamu headcanons #osamu angst #osamu and atsumu #osamu x reader #osamu scenarios #haikyu scenarios #signedwithane😌

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pinkchanelbag · 3 years ago

Text

pining (in peace). — kenma.

a.k.a., kenma “i’d tell her i like her but i’m sleepy” kozume.

— because things are actually pretty good how they are. because he likes (and really only has the energy for) taking care of you in those subtle ways. because he hasn’t begun prepping for the emotional charge and crippling fear of a confession. and he's in no rush. because, if he's honest, kenma feels like you'll be the one he ends up with regardless.

— constant hangouts that don’t feel like hangouts anymore. “hanging out” implies a start and an end to kenma’s presence in your day, which is like saying you pull all the hairs on your body out of their follicles at the end of every day and then re-place them in the morning. being around kenma doesn’t feel like hanging out with a friend. it feels the way blinking feels.

— anyone wants to “talk to you in private”? their eyes will look over the brown-yellow mop sitting next to you, a short distance from you, or blended into the background, bent over a PSP or nibbling on some gummies or blinking at them like a people-watching cat. and they’ll have to mind him, as is clear when you say “huh? oh, it’s just kenma.”

— he only realizes something is different with you when kuroo makes a joke about how kenma looks after you the way kuroo looks after him.

— in fact, it sticks with him so much that it idly wanders through his mind as he games into the night, and the next day when he sees kuroo, he asks him if his caring for you is unusual.

— “is that...bad? like, does that mean something?” and kuroo is grinning fondly at his oblivious best friend.

— like a good coach, though, he doesn’t just give kenma the answer. he points out that he (kuroo) takes care of everyone, pretty much, so there’s nothing unusual about him doing it. he points out that kenma isn’t like that, but vagues about how just because something is unusual doesn’t mean it’s bad.

— and that’s that...yeah, kenma thinks about it often and eventually does go “ohhh.......” but strangely enough, his realization that he has more-than-friends feelings for you doesn’t panic him much. he’s kinda like, “...weird.”

— don’t get me wrong; for a little while after he realizes, when he’s around you he becomes silently flustered for no reason other than his own feelings. he’ll catch himself thinking about how nice your hair looks that day and how you’re really nice to look at, then be like “yo stop.”

— but he falls easily into it, because kuroo is right: he does take care of you, and he enjoys doing it.

— like when the two of you are at your house after school and he’s looking through your fridge for a snack while simultaneously picking out packable-looking foods and tossing them at you, telling you to put them in your backpack. he doesn’t say—doesn’t need to say—that it’s because he knows you’ll forget to pack a lunch for tomorrow’s school day.

— or how he’ll never say it, but he prefers that you stay after school and wait for him to finish practice because he (usually with kuroo in tow) wants to make sure he accompanies you on the train.

— (especially after the time you called him right before practice, and how he got no response to his hello? but could hear the bustling of the train and your little voice responding to another—an older man’s. kenma couldn��t hear the man’s words, but his tone was casual, friendly. too friendly. too old. and you sounded scared. in an instant he hung up and called you back so that you had to visibly pick up a call, then told you to excuse yourself and move to the other side of the car, then get off at the next stop. and to stay on the phone with him , all the way home.)

— it’s why, now, he gets slightly frowny every time you say you’re heading home before him. you notice it, and it’s why you end up spending most days after school in the library or the picnic tables on the front lawn until the two boys come out to take you home.

— at school, in those free periods where you’re on the verge of passing out and kenma is playing his PSP, he’ll take off that practically statement oversized red hoodie so you can bunch it into a makeshift pillow and sleep next to him on the bench (he definitely doesn’t pause to look at you every now and then).

— kenma who has a cat (furudate told me himself) and when the two of you are at his house and you seem to be in a sad mood, he’ll lightly shove his cat’s bum in your direction so it’ll go cuddle with you.

— and when on the train or in free period or sitting on the grass somewhere, he notices the way you idly watch him play and he adjusts his hold on the PSP and his sitting position, sort of brings himself closer to you so you’re right at his shoulder with optimal view to watch his screen.

— he can’t help the sickly smiley feeling inside when you start asking questions about the gameplay, and he happily answers them in a soft voice close to your ear. if you really wanna make his heart ache, the way you lay your head on his shoulder after craning it weirdly to watch for so long will have him letting out the tiniest of lovesick sighs.

— kenma who won’t facetime you himself but will text you consistently and for long enough that you get tired of typing and call him yourself, and his heart stutters when he sees incoming call on the screen.

— he won’t talk much on those calls, instead choosing to listen to your voice as you go on about absolutely anything. if he feels like you’re becoming self conscious about how much speaking you’ve been doing, he’ll ask a question about the topic (he was listening to every word) to let you know he was invested, or bring up his own conversation topic so you wouldn’t feel like you didn’t let him “say his piece.”

— he’s sort of 😦😐 about the idea of romantic affection or intimacy mostly because he can’t see himself doing it; it’s a big factor of why he doesn’t make a move. the thought of him planning dates and kissing openly and saying things like “yeah, i was with my girlfriend.” it’s too unlike him. he couldn’t be that person.

— that was before you’d ever dozed off while on the phone with him.

— before he ever heard your sleepy voice that made something inside him go warm with a realization that hit him harder than when he realized he had feelings for you: he realized he wanted to hold you.

— or something like it. he wanted to be there with you as you fell asleep. instead of a speaker, he wanted to hear your voice through your own mouth. and if he thinks about your mouth, he knows he’ll wither away entirely.

— that was how he discovered the difference between liking someone and wanting them. not in a sexual way; feelings so strong that they could make someone want to cross the line between a crush and something more. to want someone enough that not being with them, not feeling along the lines of their existence and not being able to say all the things you think about them, hurts.

— kenma discovers what it means to ache for someone, and this is what panics him, because now, how can he not tell you?

— because he’s not the type of guy to hold hands in public or give compliments or consent to meaning something to somebody. but he knows, wearily, that he’d do it. if it’s you, he’d do it in a heartbeat.

— (yeah...maybe not so peaceful after all.)

#nia.kenma #nia.txt #kenma kozume imagine #kenma kozume x reader #kenma fluff #kenma x reader #kenma headcanons #kenma kozume #kenma hcs #kenma scenario #kenma imagine

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