#i really need to make a peach centric thing with them. someone give me a quick an easy suggestion i already have a more complicated wip
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gingergari · 8 months ago
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le mie stelline
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koopalings4life · 2 years ago
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What are some of your koopalings AUs? Or Super Mario AUs in general?
Ooh Boy, be prepared for a VERY long post on this.
War-Torn AU: One of my personal favourites, this AU takes place in a setting where the Mushroom Kingdom and Darklands have been at war for several years. Mario and Luigi are considered the best fighters in the Mushroom Kingdom and their personal duty is to protect Princess Peach, as well as trying to work out how to defeat Bowser. Bowser himself is the evil yet charismatic tyrant of Darklands, who wants nothing more than the Princess’s hand in marriage. The Koopalings are his most elite soldiers and his 7 army leaders…but they’re still just children.
Undercover AU: One of my Koopaling-centric ones, the Koopalings are a group of orphans sent to the Darklands under the orders of a neighbouring king, King Rohan II, and were adopted by Bowser after he finds the 7 children on the streets. Their mission was to infiltrate the royal family from the inside and take the throne away from Bowser and Bowser Jr. After unsuccessful assassination attempt after unsuccessful assassination attempt, it always ends with the. Sing forced to start an all-out revolution early. The question is, do they get forgiven or not? That’s the fun part to work out.
Haunted AU: I based this one on the 19-year long disappearance the Koopalings had from the mainstream games after Super Mario World and worked it into a fictional story. Basically, 19 years ago, Bowser’s adopted children, the Koopalings, went mysteriously missing and, not long after, their ghosts started haunting the castle. Boos were one thing, but just having the ghosts of your former children wandering the castle was too much for Bowser and his troops, so they left for a temporary alternative. This AU mainly revolves around Luigi being hired to ghost-hunt them and questioning his own morals the entire way along, as well as various scenarios that could have led to their death (AUs within AUs basically)
Reverse AU: Ah yes, the good ol’ Swapped AU as it is commonly known. The world stays roughly the same, but everyone’s personality is completely changed to be the canonical opposite. Therefore, you’d have Soft Bowser, Childish Ludwig, Austere Lemmy, Pacifist Roy (he’s great fun to write), Bully Iggy, Sweet Wendy, Smart Morton and Quiet Larry, all of whom are under the care of Idiotic Kamek. Oh, and don’t forget that Peach loves Bowser, Luigi is a fearless bad guy and Mario is constantly kidnapping Princess Peach.
Evil Mario AU: Let’s face it, most Super Mario fans have the token Evil Mario AU and I’m no exception. As someone who’s firmly on Team Bowser, it comes naturally to me to write Mario brutally beating up Bowser’s children and troops and trashing the Darklands as he goes, as well as him trying to coerce Peach to marry him and relentlessly bully Luigi. It comes in various amounts of extremism, but it’s very good for angst.
Human AU: The second typical AU, this is basically the same as mainline Mario except everyone is a human and I can make them hot. I’m a sucker for Human AUs and I’m not entirely sure why. I guess I mainly write this one because it gives me more to work with, like with outfits or injuries. ALSO, since they’re humans, it would be much easier to disguise themselves and go undercover in the Mushroom Kingdom 😈. This doesn’t have a lot of depth to it, but it doesn’t really need to, it’s just a little variation on normal Super Mario.
That’s all my main AUs. If anyone wants to suggest some more, I’d love to hear them. I think I might like AUs more than canon at this point because I can give people whatever personality I want.
Also, thanks for the ask! I love talking about my AU’s!
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samwritesforyou · 4 years ago
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Booked
Diego x reader (the whole family is present at the beginning but as time goes on becomes more Diego-centric)
Summary: You have a summer house that is far away from any big cities, you’ve inherited it from your great-great-parents and you want to prove to your friends that you cannot possibly make an income out of it. So you submit the house at booking dot com for the lowest price possible. Your plan was working for years and you’ve been happy and content just by growing your own food and participating in the village’s community, completely forgetting about the offer you presented on booking. Until one day, seven siblings arrive at your place, saying they reserved themselves the whole house for the eternity of summer.
Warnings: gender-neutral reader, swear words (? but just a couple, mainly from Five)
Wordcount: 3.7k
A/N: settling is post s2, so everyone looks accordingly. umbrella academy gets back into the timeline where no umbrella nor the sparrow academy exists, yet the world is still ending. mostly written out of nostalgia for my own summer house that my family sold years ago and i will never come back there, so i want it to live on at least somewhere
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Summers were always hot in this little village that you lived in, especially with the climate change looming over humanity’s ignorant heads.
So you were actually relieved that you finally persuaded a local technician to help you fix the fridge that stopped freezing its insides for good two weeks already.
You just handed her the cash and waved her goodbye, also giving the lady a basket with apples and peaches that grew in your garden. You don’t have enough people eating your fruits and most of it goes into jams anyways.
You waited a little until her car disappeared into the horizon of the bumpy road near your house, seeing as it even got blurry in the end, as the air was literally melting the reality in front of your eyes.
With a swift movement you adjusted a cap on your head, went out of the creaky gate - which green color was peeling off into the original black metal that it was made with - and closed it behind yourself with a happy hum.
It was a twenty minutes walk to the nearest convenience store and it gave you just enough time to ponder about the recent weird thing that happened to you.
About three days ago you just got a random payment come to your bank account.
15 Euros. That was it.
No note, no name.
You decided to let it be, even though it did stir your mind in various ways.
Normally, when something like this happens, the bank realises the mistake in the recipient and takes the money back within 24 hours.
Either the person who sent it didn’t care that it went to the wrong place or bank decided to be generous with you.
Whatever the reason was, those 15 Euros could be used now to buy yourself a little more sweets than you usually do.
You never had to complain about how little money you actually have from living here and being more or less self-sufficient, but some random extra cash will make anyone smile in this capitalistic hell that you tried so hard to escape from.
.
.
After you came home you started sorting out groceries that you’ve bought, putting them into the right places.
Upon finishing you just plopped yourself on the bench near the big abandoned table in the room, looking around.
This house used to be alive. With a lot of your family members running around, making noise, sometimes fighting, but always generally just enjoying the good time at this place.
At the end of the extended room was a window, showing you the rest of the garden that you lovingly cared for every single day.
Under the window was a spacious kitchen counter, with a fridge and shelves for ingredients next to it. Then there was the entrance to one of the unused bedrooms with one bed pushed against the wall, which in turn was covered by a red hanging carpet. On a wall, yes.
You stopped tracing the room around with your eyes as you heard some rummaging coming from the outside.
After easily springing to your feet you saw black dots in front of you and your head was spinning. Damn you, iron deficiency!
A few seconds passed and you were collected again, rushing out towards the gates to the property.
You stopped in your tracks as you saw five people literally barging through your piece of land with suitcases and bags, bickering with each other.
Oh, nope. They were six, actually. A very tiny figure closed the gate after all of them made it in and started clumsily going forward on a tiny tartan road that lead all the way to the summer house.
“Klaus, stop fucking pushing around and help me with the bags, maybe?�� said a man with longer curly hair and a goatee, clearly agitated at another person, who wasn’t holding anything except some bottle in their hand.
“Oh cut it, you two! We’re almost in the house, come on,” said a woman with straight black hair in the flowery dress and then she noticed that someone blocks their way.
Her eyes landed on you.
“Um... hello?” she said with an awkward smile, attempting a wave in your direction and continued, “are you the owner? We booked your house until the rest of the summer like.. a few days ago.”
Your eyes widened and your mouth hung open in the “o” shape, trying to grasp the reality.
So.... someone really booked your summer house after several years of no traction from booking and you had no clue.
That’s what the payment was for!
But..
“Oh,” you said, not knowing how to proceed about the situation, “well, you see.. um... I have nowhere to stay? This is my only home,” you started timidly, rubbing your hands together.
“Oh,” the woman seemed surprised and confused but quickly collected herself, “well, if you have enough beds to keep us all in then it’s no problem, I guess?”
“Yeah? Alright, great!” You smiled at the whole “squad” and looked at them all.
“Uhm.. my name is y/n! Welcome to my summer house, I guess,” you put your hands into the back pockets and shook your head a little into the direction of the house.
“Allison, nice to meet you,” the woman you talked to said, smiling invitingly.
“Diego,” almost spat the guy with the goatee.
“Klaus, darling,” said the person with the bottle in their hand, widening his arms in an invisible hug.
“Luther,” mumbled a big man in the back of them all.. he looked like he’s been through something.
Actually, they all do.
“Vanya,” chirped a girl behind the big- Luther, the corners of her lips lifting ever so lightly.
“Five,” said a child in the front, looking unusually angry, suddenly shortening the distance between the two of you, “as long as you’re out of our business you’re good to stay,” he literally sneered at you, pushing past you and going inside.
That left you kinda shook, but then Allison just apologised for “their brother”, so you decided to ask another question:
“So you’re all a family?”
“Yes, we’re all siblings. Adopted,” she said, actually following you inside, not as the little guy before who let himself in without even knowing the place.
“I think my place is not the best for so many people to sleep at though..” you said quietly, biting your lip.
“That’s why it was so cheap..” Luther wondered, looking around.
You had to calm yourself so you didn’t snap at your guest. You didn’t even know anyone would ever book your house, damn! What were you supposed to do?
In the end you spent some time showing them the rooms, starting with the first one that contained an old-fashioned sink and the water tank near it, which you needed to manually fill up with water, and the drain led to the bucket under it.
Very simple.
In the back of the room there was a dining table, on one side surrounded by the bench and the other with some mismatching chairs.
From this space you proceeded into the extended “hallway” that you stared at before your peace and quiet was ruined.
There was also an ancient literal furnace, on top of which you could actually lay on, you know, as in all the fairytales.
After that, there was another room entrance that contained two beds on each side (one of them pushed under the window), similar to the other room and a coffee table in the middle of the area.
When you all went back to the first place, there was a wooden staircase that led to the second floor.
There were two rooms. One had a king sized bed in the middle of the space, with a closet and various tables around the whole area.
The other one had a working table and a bed in the corner.
“And that is the end of the tour!” you proclaimed, as everyone got seated by the big table in the extended room, while you were making everyone tea and preparing some snacks.
“Great, I sleep on the furnace!” Klaus exclaimed, putting his hands in the air animatedly.
“I guess we can fit all of us in here, actually,” Allison was clearly thinking aloud, counting the members of the family and available sleeping places.
“You’re gonna take one of the beds, right?” she said, pointing at you.
“Uh.. yes! Upstairs, I think. The one with the small bed and a table,” you smiled at her and she nodded.
“Then I’ll be sleeping with Vanya in the king-sized bed and you guys can fight for who’s going to end up sharing the room,” Allison concluded, clearly enjoying herself.
“Funny of you to think I’ll have enough time to sleep, in our situation,” said Five, suddenly coming out from the doorframe into the room.
You didn’t even mention that he wasn’t there when you were explaining the plan of the house.
“What situation? There should always be time to sleep,” you chipped in, carefully smiling at the boy.
“Stay the fuck out of our business, I said,” he gritted through his teeth at you, which left you blinking in surprise as he went away again, out of sight.
“How... old is he again?” you asked with the confusion that a kid would be so rude to a stranger like this.
All of them kind of nervously laughed or mumbled something that you couldn’t understand.
“It’s complicated,” said Vanya, smiling at you reassuringly.
How the fuck an age of your own brother is complicated?..
You heard the fancy-looking woman - Allison - sigh heavily and turn to you, shrugging.
“It’s just.. when our parents adopted him, he freshly got into the orphanage so he didn’t even have any documents about his birthday, blood type or anything. Apparently, he was really abused by his biological parents. Or whoever else, we don’t even know.”
“Oh.. I’m sorry,” you apologised quickly, biting your lip. Didn’t expect to poke into any painful subjects.
“It’s okay, really, we’ve learned how to take proper care of him,” Allison said, putting her hand on your back with a smile.
When you excused yourself to continue with gardening and went outside, Allison just shook her head.
“Who says ‘it’s complicated’ when someone asks you about their sibling’s age, Vanya?” said Allison in disbelief.
“I’m sorry, I thought it would settle the matter..” she muttered, playing with her fingers anxiously.
“It’s okay..” she smiled at her sister and then looked around the whole table, “look we’re here for the whole summer, so I think it would be better if we somehow told the owner at least partially about our powers so we’re not hiding all the time. We came here to have a safe space where we could train after all, am I right?” she looked expectantly at Luther who immediately started nodding along, agreeing.
“Or maybe,” started saying Klaus, already getting up from his seat and trying to crawl onto the furnace, skinny legs already dangling in the air, “we can just tell them we’re the umbrella academy, don’t you think?” he concluded, facing a wall with his face.
“But we checked that the umbrella academy doesn’t exist in this universe.. nor any other replacement of us,” reminded her siblings Vanya, fingers still intertwined on the table, firmly put together.
“I’m sure we’ll tell them one way or another,” said Diego, getting up just like his brother, making his way a bit further though, his objective clearly being the fridge.
He opened it and smirked at the beer present there, taking one can with him. His eyes then wondered to the window at the end of the room and he stepped closer, inspecting what is outside.
Apparently it was still their new home’s property, as he saw y/n working in the garden, repotting some plants under the tree.
His gaze stayed on them as he thought about various topics in his head, but then he decided to go out of the house, jumping down the wooden stairs leading to the tartan road, framing the whole garden.
You heard steps behind you, turning your head away from the the plants, only to meet a tall man in front of you, with a can in his hand.
“Hey, uhm..” he nervously put his hand on his neck, scratching it, “I just wanted to ask if it’s cool if I take some beer from the fridge?” he lifted the other hand with the mentioned item, giving it a little shake.
“It’s cool,” you replied, smiling softly at him, and then getting back to work, grabbing the plant by the root, moving it to another hole in the ground.
“Okay..” he retorted, biting his lower lip and scanned the area with his dark eyes.
There was an abandoned greenhouse with broken walls, greenery growing all around it, just next to the fence of the property. To its left was a wooden toilet booth with a typical round-shaped hole in the higher part of the door.
“I’m really sorry, by the way,” you started talking again, now finally done with your objective of the day, now plopping yourself next to Diego on the bench that he was chilling at, the surface creaking from the added weight, “I really thought nobody would *ever* rent this place,” you shrugged with a smile, now looking in front of yourself, closing your eyes and letting sunshine illuminate your face.
“Well.. uh.. then why did you put up on that website anyways?” he asked, clear confusion in his voice.
You sighed, shifting your body a little, getting into more comfortable sitting position, “It was a bet I made with my friends back in the day. A few years ago they told me I could actually rent this place and get income from it, not having to work a day in my life! Yet i told them that it’s not possible, and I wanted to prove that I was right by putting the advertisement,” you finished, finally opening your eyes, tilting your head at your new acquaintance.
You caught him staring at you, so he quickly turned away, now getting quite a violent sip out of the beer can.
“You should’ve put some timing on that bet then.. Let’s say, if it doesn’t get traction after two years you’ll finally delete the posting,” he said, after gulping some liquid.
That made you laugh and you couldn’t look away from him. His features were so.. delicate.
“Yeah, you’re actually right!” you admitted, slapping your thighs in excitement.
“Diego, my precious brother!” you two suddenly heard from the entrance to the house.
You lifted your eyes and saw a slender confide getting closer to you both, the man walking barefoot.
“Five said we’re all needed for a ‘family meeting’,” the guy literally put an air quotes with his free hand that wasn’t holding a glass, saying it in the mockingly serious tone, “so you better come with me and stop bothering this lovely person, alright?” he then proceeded sweetly, extending a hand towards Diego with a wide smile.
“God.. alright,” he answered and to your surprise took his hand, now brothers going away into the house, Diego briefly looking back at you, “Let’s talk later.”
You just nodded, finding yourself still smiling long before they were gone.
What is this funny feeling in the pit of your stomach?..
And why is one of their family members called by a number instead of a name?!
.
.
It was only the second day of your coexistence with the Hargreeves but it was already a wild ride.
Normally your morning looked like this;
You would wake up at a reasonable hour, maybe like.. 9am. You would go down the stairs from your room and make yourself some breakfast. While eating you’d either read a book or just listen to some music from your phone.
Then you’d do daily tasks, so taking care of the garden or some house maintenance, or both.
Then you’d do everything special that needs to be done only once in a while: a meeting with a friend, grocery shopping, attending a meeting with your neighbours where you decide on further upgrades of the village.
Then you’d draw some commissions, if there were any and after all of this you’d have late lunch that normally turned into dinner, concluding your day with doing your hobbies or rarely taking out your laptop and browsing the internet.
“Rise and shiiine!” you heard somewhere from downstairs, for some reason that person was also ringing a bell, making you immediately sit up in your bed.
You turned your head towards the mirror that hung across your sleeping space on the wall and you could see your hair standing up in different directions, cowlick upon cowlick.
You also felt tired, kind of not used to that feeling and shifted your half-closed eyes to the alarm clock near you.
It was... a bit past 7am. Who are those people to wake up that early?!
You lazily got up from the bed, yawning and stretching your arms up, feeling a few cracks here and there.
“Good morning!” first half of the sentence was muffled by the closed door to your room, but that quickly changed as it burst open, Klaus marching right in, his voice now uncomfortably loud for your sleepy ears, “I thought it would be nice to have breakfast all together and make you feel a part of the family, wouldn’t it?” he said with a genuine smile, looking at you.
You were sitting on your bed in pyjamas, hair all over the place, most unamused expression on the face, eyes half opened.
“Not a morning person?” he mused, tilting his head at you, “well, feel free to join or sleep more, I wouldn’t judge,” he continued and you saw in literal slow motion as he lifted his hand with a bell in hand, shaking it hard as he marched out of your room just in the same manner as he came in just seconds ago.
“BREAKFAST!!” he yelled with at least two octaves lower at his siblings, still ringing the bell that now was resonating in your brain in a highest pitch possible, making your head hurt.
Great morning.
But despite the general morning grumpiness you did find it endearing that Klaus decided to include you in their activities, making you feel less alone and - quite funnily - welcomed in your own house.
You slowly went down the stairs, hearing the lower floor full of different voices and it made your heart clench. You immediately thought of your family that made it feel alive like this in the past and a warm smile appeared on your face, as the Hargreeves huddled up around the smaller table in the room you descended from the stairs into, all making your appearance feel natural.
“Good morning,” you passed Luther that nodded in your direction alongside the phrase, as you went into the bigger room, seeing Allison cooking by the stove, window open.
“Oh hey, you’re up,” she said with a smile, “can you pass me some milk?” she asked, extending her hand into the air, already expecting said item.
“Sure!!” you hurriedly opened the fridge, giving her the thing she requested and she continued cooking.
You slowly looked around, seeing a blanket and some different things like cigarette boxes and teddy bears on top of the furnace, which made you realise that someone from the family has clearly claimed it to be their place for sleeping and you found it adorable.
“You can go sit with the others, I’ll bring it all in when it’s ready, Allison said, adjusting her black hair so it didn’t get in the way of preparing food.
“Oh.. okay!” you chirped, with a smile going back to the first room, and finding an empty seat between Diego and Klaus.
You almost sat already when Klaus sprang to his feet and took you by the shoulders, making you freeze on the spot, eyes wide.
“Klaus?” you asked, confused, “is that seat taken?”
“By Allison,” Diego quickly responded before his brother had any chance to and then the skinny man sat back on his chair, nodding with an awkward smile on his face.
“Yes, exactly. Sorry y/n,” he sighed and shrugged, clearly playing along Diego’s words, but you just let it go.
Instead you sat next to Luther, whom already opened his mouth but Vanya looked at him with a forced smile, raising a brow. At that, the big guy closed his mouth again, without making a sound.
Something.. is weird here. You shifted a bit in your seat, biting your lower lip.
The kid wasn’t here at all, you just noticed.
Then finally Allison came with the food and your anxiety lessened, as everyone started cheering for wonderful pancakes that she made.
She already wanted to sit on the seat that the guys told you was reserved for her, when suddenly Klaus did the same to her as he did to you.
“Klaus,” Diego hissed in a low voice.
Allison just looked at her brother, expression just as confused as yours was.
“What?” Allison deadpanned, putting a hand to her hip.
There was a brief second of silence until Klaus just burst into an emotional speech.
“Look, I know we’re all pretending that we’re normal in front of y/n but you all know that Ben always sits next to me and he’s sitting here right now, yet you all wanna make it seem like he doesn’t exist? I’m sorry that he’s a ghost, I’m sure he didn’t want to die either!” then after a moment he added, “Right, brother dear?” looking at an empty space near him.
Your brain clearly wasn’t catching up to what was just being said.
Pretending to be normal?..
“Great. Just fucking great, Klaus. I bet Ben would move, understanding the situation!” Allison waved her hands at him and the chair next to him with an annoyed voice.
“We just blew our cover, guys,” said Diego with pursed lips, looking absentmindedly at the table filled with food.
Soon enough they all started arguing and only when there was a sudden blue light in the room, and the kid appeared literally out of the thin air in front of your eyes, everyone fell silent, looking at him.
“Guys, I just did a search around the neighbourhood and—“ his blue eyes met with yours, full of shock and denial of what you just saw, “shit.”
He clicked his tongue and frowned and that was positively the last thing you remember before losing consciousness, everything around you turning black.
Too much of supernatural for one morning, that’s for sure.
Precious taglist:  @radcloudenthusiast​,  @spacenerdpascal​
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artificialqueens · 5 years ago
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Blue Neighborhood Series: EASE (Jan-centric) - Mac
AN: Again, nothing I do would ever come to completion without Meggie being my rock and betaing this monstrosity. I love her and I hope yall like this one!
Summary: The students of Eastview Highschool are still reeling from a post by their school drama account. Jan is too busy with auditioning for the school musical to pay much mind to a bit of teenage angst. Jan is too busy in general. But she’s not overworked. She’s totally fine. She can handle it. She has everything under control.
6:00am: Wake Up
Jan’s eyes slowly adjusted themselves to the morning light just beginning to peek through her curtains. She didn’t groan, didn’t add five minutes to her alarm. She rolled up and out of bed.
She pulled the sheet taut where she had messed it up while sleeping and tucked it back under her mattress, doing the same to the blanket. She fluffed her pillows and set them upright, and finally placed her little stuffed bunny in the center of the pillows.
She knelt down to pull the drawers from under her bed. She selected a random combination of shorts and t-shirt before queuing up her morning run playlist. She noted a text from Gigi and about eleven other people.
G: no idea.
G: u sure it’s one of our girls?
J: Looks like our uniform.
7:00am: Shower
Jan didn’t fuss too much in the shower, rinsing herself down quickly, but making sure to apply her favorite body soap generously along her legs and arms. It smelled like peaches and always reminded her of summertime.
She brushed her teeth in the shower too. When she mentioned offhandedly to Jackie one day the older girl had looked grossed out. Jan didn’t mind.
It was more efficient that way.
7:20am: Breakfast
Jan kissed her mother on the cheek as thanks for another delicious meal.
She fussed after Jan, telling her to be safe on her way to school and to text her when practice was over. Jan assured her mother that she would and skipped out the door, bookbag in tow, without another word.
7:30am: Walk to School
Jackie had taken to walking in the morning with Crystal and her weird art friends recently, so it was just Gigi and Brita that met Jan at her door.
Jan greeted them with a warm smile and made it about halfway down her porch steps before Brita launched into her many theories about who on the cheer team was sleeping with a basketball player.
The picture had made the rounds last night. Jan was up doing an online lab for her college chemistry course when she got the notification.
Yes, she had her notifications on for the school drama account. Sue her, but she liked to be in the know about things.
She immediately recognized their cheer outfit and hadn’t hesitated before contacting every single girl on the team to inquire about who was making out with Eastview High’s All Star basketball player.
No one on the team fessed up.
Jan wasn’t concerned per se. It was their prerogative to make out with whoever, but if this was about to be a scandal, she’d rather be ahead of it.
“When I first saw it I thought it might be you, J,” Brita said, turning to shoot a look at Jan.
“Oh my god, Brittany!” Jan shook her head as if it were the wildest idea she’d ever heard.
“I’m just sayin’.” Brita held her hands up in surrender. “My first thought was good for her. She needs some stress relief.”
“I don’t need that kind of relief.” Jan chuckled.
Brita just hummed skeptically.
Jan turned to look at Gigi who was being awfully quiet that morning, “Who do you think it was, Gigi?”
“I have no idea.” Gigi just shrugged.
Jan wasn’t convinced. Gigi was staring at her shoes like they were the most interesting shoes on the planet. She clearly knew something she wasn’t telling them. Jan made a mental note to prod her for details later.
“Well, the tall one was definitely Hall. That’s for sure,” Brita continued rambling.
“Why do you say that?” Gigi asked innocently.
Now Jan was sure Gigi knew something. Everyone with two eyes and half a brain cell knew the person not in the cheer uniform was Hall. Jaida was the damn captain of the team. The most lauded person in their highschool. Everyone knew what she looked like.
Brita looked at Gigi confusedly. “Besides the obvious, it’s her truck in the picture.”
“It could have just been someone else on her car,” Gigi spoke quietly, clearly losing her nerve.
“I doubt it. Did you see how tall the other person was?” Brita shook her head. “No, it’s definitely Hall.”
The conversation lulled a bit as the three made their way into the school building, through the metal detectors, and headed down the hallway to their lockers. All conveniently located next to each other.
When Gigi had asked how that had happened Jan had just shrugged and said that being student body president had its advantages.
As they sifted through their lockers for their books, Jan mused. “But which one of our girls would be sleeping with Hall?”
Brita thought a moment before holding up a hand to count off her fingers. “Well, start with which ones are gay. Jackie, Gigi-”
Jan cut her off. “You don’t have to be gay to wanna sleep with Hall.”
“Okay, true.” Brita giggled.
“For straight girls, you both sure talk about how hot Jaida is a lot.” Gigi gave them both pointed looks, before continuing. “Besides, half the squad is gay that doesn’t help.”
Brita and Jan agreed and gave up theorizing for now as they waltzed into homeroom with their arms linked.
7:40am Homeroom/Announcements
Jan shot their homeroom teacher a smile before excusing herself to the front office.
While being the student body president did have its perks, it also had its responsibilities. Namely, the announcements every morning.
Jan greeted the ladies at the front desk and spent the better part of ten minutes cooing at pictures and videos of their young children that they always insisted on showing her. Jan never minded. It always made them smile and it made her smile, so it was a win-win.
Principal Visage came by a few moments later. She gave Jan a warm smile and ran her through the announcements for the day, handing over the slip of paper with the same information.
Jan took it eagerly and attempted to strike up a conversation with her principal. But Mrs. Visage wasn’t one for small talk and excused herself shortly after the homeroom bell rang. She gave Jan an encouraging smile, though, before disappearing into her office.
Jan readied herself by the microphone and smiled as a couple of students filed into the office to make announcements for their various clubs.
Bryce showed up at 8:00 on the dot and Jan chastised him for giving her a heart attack. Her VP slash boyfriend of two years just smiled. “You know I’d never leave you hangin’.”
Jan didn’t have time to retort before the bell rang. She took a deep inhale and exhale before pressing down on the intercom and putting on her cheeriest voice.
“Good Wednesday morning Eastview High! I hope you guys are ready for the football game this Friday. Get excited! Go Eagles!” Jan paused to look over at the students in line. “We’ve got quite a few student announcements this morning so I’ll let them take it away.”
Jan moved back and allowed each of the line of students access to the mic to plug their after school activity or club. It was still early in the semester so there were quite a few. Jan herself made plugs for both the cheerleading and soccer teams.
“Now to your VP for the most important announcement, lunch.”
Jan turned to Bryce who smiled goofily. “That was a Jan-mazing joke there!”
Jan could hear groans from the nearby homerooms. She just smiled. Early on in their relationship, Bryce had somehow decided that making puns out of Jan’s name was peak comedy. Although, he had a weird grasp on what counted as a pun. She had tried to explain to him that the joke wasn’t funny unless the word already had an ‘an’ in it. He still didn’t seem to get it.
He even got her a necklace for the anniversary that said Janmate. Like soulmate… but… her name.
She took it all in stride though and forced a laugh anyway.
“For lunch we’ve got chicken and pizza-”
Jan spaced out for a bit as Bryce went on about the menu for today. He cracked a few jokes and the ladies at the front desk practically swooned. Jan rolled her eyes fondly. Bryce had that effect on people.
She closed out the announcements with her encouraging quote of the day and a reminder to get tickets to Friday’s game.
8:15 - 12:20: Classes
Jan was taking all AP classes this semester which meant she had to work ten times harder to keep up with everyone else. Yes, she was still in line for salutatorian, and yes, she could probably get As in every class without lifting a finger, and yes, she was taking college courses in addition to her current course load, and no, she wasn’t overworked.
12:25: Lunch
Jan threw her pile of books in her locker with little regard to how they tumbled against each other at the bottom. She grabbed her purse and Gigi’s hand and the two made their way down to the lunchroom.
Jan waited until they were in line, trays in hand, boxed in by students on either side of them before finally asking, “So what aren’t you telling me?”
Gigi tensed immediately and tried valiantly to keep eye contact with Jan, “What are you talking about?”
Jan grabbed a yogurt from the fridge and turned back to face Gigi. “You know who’s in the picture don’t you?”
“No,” Gigi answered too quickly.
Jan wasn’t convinced. “Well, you know something.”
Gigi grabbed two slices of pizza while shaking her head, “I really don’t, J. Honest.”
They made their way up to the register and Jan smiled warmly at the lady running the machine. She gave her a glare in response. Jan paid for her lunch and waited patiently for Gigi to do the same.
Jan knew she wasn’t going to get anything more out of Gigi. They had grown up together and Jan knew better by now than to keep pushing.
But a little part of her did wonder. “Who are you covering for?”
“No one. I’m not covering for anyone!” Gigi exclaimed.
“I know, I’m teasing.” Jan gave a giggle.
Gigi huffed but allowed a small smile to grace her face.
The two sat down at their usual table. Bryce, Brita, and Brita’s boyfriend Bruno all came and joined them a bit later.
Lunch passed in a blurr. Jan half-listened to Bryce talk about the football team and their upcoming game. The rest of her time was spent worrying her bottom lip between her teeth and mentally running through her lines for her audition tomorrow.
1:25-3:30: Classes
The afternoon always seemed to pass slower to Jan. She noticed three times that her mind had drifted off and away from the work in front of her. She really needed to get a grip. And maybe some more sleep tonight.
4:00pm: Cheer Practice
Jan led the girls through another grueling practice.
Ten laps to start, stretching exercises, pyramid clean up, full routine until they got it perfect.
It was nowhere near perfect when six o’clock hit, but there wasn’t time to dwell on that. There wasn’t time for much of anything.
Roll up the floor mats, change for soccer practice, eat a granola bar on the way to the field.
6:10pm: Soccer Practice
Jan had been playing soccer since she was 5.
Her parents swore she came out of the womb juggling. Jan always laughed and told them that was anatomically impossible. Her father then would say she got her mother’s humor.
Practice was fairly uneventful. Tiring as hell, as usual, but it always left Jan feeling accomplished.
8:00pm: Dinner and Homework
Jan was thankful for the light load today. When the spring musical started up, she would really be stretched thin. Luckily for now she only had cheer every school day and soccer three days a week and soccer games on weekends and her college class every other day and being student body president every day and keeping her 4.0 GPA…
It was manageable. For now at least.
Jan scarfed down the leftovers her mother had set aside for her and started on her pile of work. She was usually good about keeping on top of homework, so it only took a few hours to get everything done. She checked in on her college chemistry course to make sure she had turned in her lab quiz. She had.
When Jan looked up it was already 11pm. She sighed and knew her parents and brother were most likely asleep by now. She would have to practice her audition song outside.
Jan hopped in the shower and rinsed herself off, hoping the steam would help her vocal chords and the grime coming off her like a sheet would help her feel better.
She tiptoed down the stairs and out her back door. She walked to the edge of her backyard and perched herself up on the fence, trying to get distance away from the houses so she didn’t bother anyone.
She shivered as the cool air bit at her exposed ankles.
She started humming softly, reaccustoming her voice to its own music. She took her time, running through warmups softly until she felt secure enough. She let herself get a bit louder and heard their neighbor Rock shut her window pointedly.
Jan sighed. She needed to practice.
She kept going, letting the notes extend past her mouth and fill the night air around her. She counted off in her head and hit each beat perfectly on cue with the music forever spinning in her mind.
A window opened from a nearby house, but it was too dark to see who it was or where it was.
Jan kept going, getting into the chorus and letting her control slip and her voice do what it wanted to. The air around her seemed to crackle with electricity and her heart rate increased as she hit the high note and this… this was what Jan lived for.
The crickets, an appreciative audience continued their chirping as Jan finished the last lyrics.
Somewhere, much closer than was comfortable came a soft clapping. It startled Jan at first.
She looked over to see none other than Jaida Essence Hall leaning over Jan’s fence to applaud her. Jan, ever the performer, gave a mock curtsey and Jaida chuckled lightly.
“Hey, Jaida,” Jan said in greeting.
“Hey, Jan.”
They didn’t do this. They didn’t talk like this. Like friends.
Not that they weren’t friends.
They had grown up together.
Although, Jan grew up with everyone in this neighborhood so that wasn’t really saying much. Although they had all grown up playing games in the middle of the street, running around in the heat slick sun and scraping their knees on solid concrete. And that meant a lot as a kid. It still sometimes meant a lot.
“How are you?” Jan asked.
Jaida’s demeanor suddenly changed and she let out a bitter laugh. “Oh you know.”
“I really don’t.”
There was a pointed pause. “No, I guess you don’t,” Jaida mused.
The silence stretched between them and the once calming air of the outdoors suddenly felt stifling.
“I’m sorry.”
Jaida looked up. “Why? You take the picture?”
“No!” Jan shook her head. “But still. I’m guessing this isn’t how you wanted things to go.”
“You’d guess correct.” Jaida sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “You gon’ ask me who it was? Has she told you yet?”
Jan bit her lip. She wasn’t going to ask, no matter how much she wanted to know. “No. And no. No one told me anything.”
“Hmm. Weird. I woulda thought you knew from the start.” Jaida seemed almost… shocked. Like she figured Jan already knew. Like she figured Jan had this dirt on her and oh, now Jan understood what this was about.
“I don’t know who it was. And even if I did, it’s none of my business.” Jan spoke firmly. “Is that why you came down here then? To make sure I wouldn’t tell?”
“No! Well yes, and no.” Jaida looked down at her feet guiltily. “I knew you weren’t the type to go spreadin gossip, but I wanted to make sure.” Jaida looked back up to meet Jan’s eyes “plus I hadn’t heard you sing since we were little.”
At Jan’s confused expression, Jaida laughed a bit, “You tellin’ me you don’t remember when we were growin’ up and you and Jackie would put on these elaborate plays and keep us all hostage til we clapped?”
“We did not keep you hostage!” Jan exclaimed.
“Roxanne nearly pissed herself one time!”
“She did not!”
A voice rang out above their heads. “Did too!”
Jaida and Jan looked up and over to see Rock leaning out her window to gaze down at them.
“Rock, what the fuck?” Jaida asked in between confused chuckles.
“Sorry, I was just listening to Jan singing and I heard my name so I thought- I just thought I’d- I’ll just go now.” Rock made a show of closing her window, but the shadow of her head was still visible through her curtains, making it clear she was still listening in.
Jan just laughed at the ludicracy of it all. She found Jaida doing the same.
It was strange. That after all this time. All the ways life had changed them, they still stood here, laughing in spite of it all.
Jan and Jaida’s eyes met and for a brief moment it felt a bit like lightning. A bit like they were supposed to be here right now. Together.
Jaida must have realized she was staring because she coughed a bit awkwardly. “Well, I should let you get back to it.”
Jan felt her stomach drop at the notion, but she nodded. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll see you around.”
“Yeah.” Jaida smiled before turning on her heel and disappearing back into her yard. Jan found herself surprised to be missing the other girl’s presence.
She shook it off and went through her song a few more times before deciding to call it a night.
She made sure to shout a goodnight to Rock, who she was sure blushed at being caught out, but returned the sentiment nonetheless.
Jan tiptoed back up the stairs to her room and set her alarm for the morning.
7:22am: Wake Up
Jan woke up like a flash. As if her body instinctively knew something was wrong. The light filtering through her curtains was way too bright for it to be 6:00am. She looked over to her phone and her heart leapt at the time.
She bolted out of bed and threw on the outfit she had laid out the night before. She didn’t have time to do her makeup, a pre-audition ritual she always partook in. She didn’t have time at all before she heard a knock at the front door.
She raced down to see Jackie, Gigi, and Brita all looking at her concerned. She looked a mess probably. Jan tried to give them a reassuring smile and said she’d be right down and she just had to grab her bag and her sheet music.
She closed the door lightly and sprinted up the stairs, grabbing the aforementioned items and giving herself one last onceover in the mirror.
Jan knew this wasn’t the end of the world. In reality, she had only missed her morning run and shower, which was fine. Everything was fine. It didn’t feel like her world was suddenly crashing down around her.
7:35am: Walk to School
The group walked in relative silence. At least for Jan’s part. She was running through her lines over and over and over in her head, while Jackie encouraged her softly and Brita and Gigi talked in hushed tones all the way to school.
Jan hardly even registered the fact that Jackie was walking with them today. When she asked about it, the older girl just shook her head and said not to worry about it. Jan agreed to drop it, if only for the fact that the nerves in her stomach were making it hard to talk.
Jan bid Brita and Gigi goodbye at the auditorium doors. Jackie hung back, clearly sensing that something was wrong.
“Are you okay?” she asked, genuine concern creeping into her voice.
Jan nodded. “Yeah, I just woke up late and it freaked me out.”
Jackie nodded but seemed unconvinced. “Well, you got this.” She gave Jan’s hands a squeeze. “Don’t worry.”
Jan gave her a small smile and nodded.
She did. She totally had this.
She walked into the auditorium, greeted the director and the stage manager and got all the way up on stage before she realized that she actually didn’t have this. That maybe for the first time in her life, Jan really wasn’t going to do well at this.
It was a stupid thought. A silly voice that she could usually shut out.
But now it was the only thing she could hear.
She couldn’t hear the lines being read out to her or the start of her music. Something inside her had snapped and she couldn’t shake the feeling of dread creeping up on her.
As if to further rub salt in the wound, right as she was about to hit the high note, her voice cracked.
Jan wasn’t delusional.
She had known this balancing act would come to an end eventually. She was doing too much. Everyone said so.
But she couldn’t seem to stop herself either. She just had a lot of love in her heart. And she needed to show it somehow.
Or maybe she just wanted to be good at something. So she had tried a bit of everything and when she found that she wasn’t truly exceptional at any one thing she just kept doing everything. Maybe she had been hoping that no one would realize how lost she truly was if she just did everything.
Because Jan felt lost.
And it hit her like a truck everytime she stopped moving. So she hadn’t stopped moving.
She had known this balancing act would come to an end eventually. She just didn’t think everything would come to an end now.
Jan ran out of the auditorium and into someone. She opened her mouth to apologize but a familiar voice cut her off before she was able.
“Hey, I was just gonna come wish you luck-” Jaida took in Jan’s frazzled appearance. “Are you okay?”
Jan looked up at her, tears blurring her vision that much more. “I-I-” Jan could hardly speak, let alone explain all that was wrong with her at that moment.
“What do you need?” Jaida said seriously.
“I don’t know.” Jan’s voice sounded strange in her own head and she couldn’t stop gasping for air. She hardly noticed the crowd that was quickly forming around them.
“Okay, come here, people are starin’.” Jaida grabbed Jan’s hand and led her out the nearest doors and out to the back parking lot.
Jan was still breathing heavily and doing her best to articulate the fact that she still had to go do the announcements.
“Nuh-uh, baby, you gonna stay right here till you can breathe again,” Jaida asserted.
Jan tried to insist that she had things to do, places to be. Jaida just sat her down against the cold brick wall of their high school and assured her that everything was going to be fine. Jan went to argue, but the sight of familiar red curls coupled with unfamiliar dark ones caught her eye.
Bryce, Jan’s boyfriend of two years, came stumbling out from under the bleachers with a petite brunette following close behind him.
Jan recognized her immediately. Dahlia.
Bryce had this giddy smile on his face and looked to all the world like he had just had the time of his life. Dahlia was just laughing at him and clutching the strap of her book bag like it was a lifeline. The pair didn’t see Jan and Jaida at first.
If Jan had any more pride left in her; she’d feel remorseful for yelling at him.
But she didn’t.
She stood up and started screaming at the top of her lungs about how much of a scumbag he was. About how he never really cared about her and was only ever in their relationship for the VP position. It made perfect sense to Jan why he would cheat. And with Dahlia no less. A girl she looked nothing like.
Jaida had to steer her away from the pair of lovebirds or Jan was going to do something really stupid.
“Hey, hey, it’s not worth it.” Jaida tried to speak calmly.
Jan wasn’t having it. She pulled out her phone with every intention of recording her cheating boyfriend and his side chick when she saw a notification from the school’s drama account.
She had been tagged in a picture.
Before she could think too much about it, Jan clicked on the post. She felt dread seeping into her stomach. The picture was of her and Jaida standing awfully close outside the auditorium. Jan’s heart nearly gave out at the caption.
A player on and off the court.
Before Jan could process what the hell that meant her phone lit up with notifications.
She managed to single out Brita’s name from the bunch and opened their conversation. Jan could feel hot tears pricking the edges of her eyes, which only served to blur her phone screen more.
B: y didn’t u tell us u were the one making out with Hall?
That was the final straw.
Jan broke down.
She broke down. At 7:58am on a Thursday morning, leaning against a dirty brick wall with a girl she hadn’t spoken to in years dabbing at her eyes with the edge of her shirt.
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shreddedparchment · 5 years ago
Text
Shattered Glass Pt.01
Team Building
07/09/2019
Pairing: Tony x Reader, Steve x Reader          Word Count: 5,750
Prompt: “Agh I’ve been hit!” “Calm down Meryl Streep, it’s just a paintball.”
Masterpost          Warnings: Language, suggestive themes, angst, violent imagery, blood, graphic violence
A/N: I fail. This was SUPPOSED to be a one shot. FML. I can’t do it. It’ll be only two parts. Maybe three if there’s enough content? But probably just two. Don’t hold me to that though. This is my very first Tony-centric fic so hopefully it comes out well. Steve wasn’t supposed to have the part that he has in this one but it kinda just worked itself out this way. This is for @moonbeambucky ‘s #5KWritingChallenge ! When I saw this prompt it screamed Tony. Anyway, I hope you like it! If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work. xoxo
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You’re wounded!
It hurts!
“Ah! I’ve been hit!” You cry, an earth-shattering shout of agony.
You fall to your knees and clutch at the piercing in the center of your chest. Head thrown back in a silent shriek as you die.
“Calm down, Meryl Streep, it’s just a paintball.” Tony moves up beside you, carefully hidden behind a tall tower of tires. His snark is layered.
The topmost bit is all annoyance and exasperation with your over the top antics. Probably doesn’t like the competition.
The rest has to be amusement. Affection. Fondness. It’s there, though it’s hidden and carefully smothered.
You fall back, laying on the mulch and dirt of the paintball field, relaxed as you breathe in and out. There’s a large splatter of red paint on the front of your vest. You’re shot and the bright light of the setting sun dips between the swaying branches of the tall and aged poplar and spruce.
You give Tony a pout, eyes skillfully pooling. You can fake a good cry if it'll get you what you want.
“It hurts. I’m dead, Tony.” You inhale a deliberate shuddering breath as he moves to kneel beside you, yearning for his sympathy. “Nat killed me.”
He traces the still wet splatter, coating his index finger in the crimson paint as he essentially runs it down between your breasts. What you wouldn’t give for your vest to be gone.
With hazy eyes, the paint might really be blood.
“Maybe you should be paying attention then, instead of flirting with Rogers?” He counters and though usually his voice would be laced with sarcasm, the stern and serious note in it gives you pause.
Everything, every instance of flirtation with Tony has been one-sided. You throw out the bait but he never bites. He never gives away any interest.
Your shallow playfulness subsides as you consider his shift in voice.
You swallow your spit and taste the chemical flavor of paint and gritty earth. It’s acerbic and normally you’d be spitting and gagging but your heart is suddenly racing.
With a lick to your lips you narrow your eyes, taking in the strong set of his sharp bearded jaw, deep brown eyes, full peach lips, “Jealous?”
Your accusation draws his hand away from your chest but you catch it, tracing the length of his finger so slow there can be no question of your intent.
The flex of his arms, tight, lithe biceps straining against the black and gray thermal. The bright shine of his Nano housing keeps it from clinging to his hard chest. He’s ripped though Steve and Sam and everyone else keeps focus away from Tony’s almost obsessive fixation on fitness.
He holds his gun with the barrel pointed up into the air so that he won’t chance accidentally shooting you.
His eyes watch the clean pink painted nail of your middle finger as you continue to stroke his.
Time seems to stop. Not around you.
Around you, everyone is still very much diving and running, swerving and shooting. You hear the peppered cries of those being shot and those doing the shooting.
You can hear Sam swear and Clint laugh. Steve's playful battle cry and Nat's returning shout of surprise. But here in your little bubble with Tony’s hand in your grasp, things flow like molasses.
Fluid and thick, ripe with unsaid desires and forbidden pleasures that until this moment you’d assumed were only yours. You’re too young. You’re the troublemaker. You give him headaches not hardons.
“Why would I be jealous?” He asks, brow twitching as he queries. “You’re not my type.”
That doesn’t hurt. It’s not the first time he’s told you this. His gentle push to keep you at a distance. It hasn’t worked in a long time and it’s not working now. Not with the slip you just saw.
You smile wide, amused by his words. “Too damaged?”
His eyes darken, your past probably flaring into technicolor flashes in his brain, like the violent images of a snuff film and he forcefully takes his finger back.
He clenches his hand, trying to maybe erase the way it felt to have you touch him?
“Too needy.” He corrects then gets to his feet.
Well, damn.
Ouch. That one does hurt.
You push yourself up onto your elbows and watch him sneak away.
“Guess I’ll just have to find someone willing to fill my needs then.” You throw at him, hoping for some type of reaction, not giving two shits about who might hear you.
Your callous behavior pays off. He turns, fixes those chocolate browns on you and you see the shift. It makes your heart race again. There are flutters in your stomach as the fire blazes in his eyes.
It’s a wild chaotic flame that lasts for only a second before it’s calmed and left to smolder behind his shield.
He turns away and keeps going, gun raised.
He only gets to the next cover before he’s shot.
“Eyes up, Tony.” Steve teases and he looks at you then winks.
Tony drops his arms, staring at the splash of patriotic blue on his vest, then sighs. His suit is deemed illegal and he isn’t exactly great without some piece of his tech around, but damn if that brain of his isn’t sexy.
You smile at Steve, chuckling at his sweet flirting. It’s only playful and you know Steve doesn’t want you but it’s nice to be noticed as a woman instead of the kid.
"That’s the game.” Nat calls, and those left standing move towards the picnic tables where food has been laid out.
Wanda and Vision, first out as they really weren’t as competitive as the other idiots on the team, move about laying out plates and drinks.
Tony marches past where you’re still laying on the ground and doesn’t spare you a glance.
Steve’s boots draw your eyes up and you smile, squinting against the bright orange of the setting sun behind him. If flits through the trees again, gilding his already golden hair.
He offers you his hand and you take it.
“Guess we won.” He says, and you hop as you find your feet.
“Guess we did.” You agree and begin to lead the way back to the rest of the group.
“I was the last man standing.” He tells you, voice not proud, but rather curious.
“Yeah.” You nod, looking back at him with a small knowing smirk. “I know."
You stop a few feet from the group as you turn back towards them and spot Tony’s brightening expression.
It’s that look. The look he only give that one person. The most important person. The one person that he can’t live without. That person that you can never measure up to.
Her perfection. Her politeness. Her sweetness. A sweetness that you will never posses because like you told him, you’re too damaged. Too needy, like he said.
You follow his gaze, already knowing what you’ll find.
A happy Pepper wearing a cute set of work out sweats in teal and blue. She stops and holds out her hands, a look of amused disappointment on her pretty face as she lets them drop to slap against her thighs.
“Did I miss it?” She asks, her easy voice full of love for him. For Tony.
“You missed it. You’re late.” He tells her, adoration pouring from his chocolate browns.
All you ever get is his disenchantment. Disappointment that you aren’t better. That you aren’t more. Not her.
Always to be scolded and corrected.
With a drop of your heart, you stare as Tony marches right up to her and pulls her in for a kiss.
It hurts more than you’ll ever admit. Jealousy is not a good color on you. It makes you reckless and lash out.
“Don’t I get a reward?” Steve asks, again, curious, pulling your attention back to him.
He’s testing the boundaries between the two of you and if he’d done it any other time than right now when Tony’s moving towards you with his arm wrapped around Pepper’s waist, you might not have taken Steve’s bait.
You force your eyes away from the couple and look up into Steve’s storm blue twinkle.
“A hero deserves a prize.” You tell him, then wrap your arms up underneath his to stroke the muscular planes of his vested back.
You push yourself up, getting as close as your paintball gear will let you and kiss him.
It isn’t a chaste kiss either. You tilt your head to the right and suck on his lower lip until he opens up for you and you give his mouth a taste.
Spearmint and the slightest chocolate sugar of his mocha. It’s delicious but all wrong.
When you pull back, his lips remained puckered in shock.
“Thanks for winning the game for us, Cap.” You boop his nose then move to settle into a seat at the edge of the nearest picnic table and lean forward onto your elbows as you spare Tony a glance.
Beside him, Pepper is happily in shock at your display. As is almost everyone else on the team.
“When did that happen?” Pepper asks quietly in Tony’s ear and he gives his head a minute shake.
Your eyes meet his and for one long moment, you silently dare him to say something. As much as he may try to hide it, you can see the flame in his eyes, the jealous edge that cuts at your poor hopeful heart.
More than the snark, the cold fire in his eyes, and the forced calm of his form tells you all you need to know about how Tony really feels about you.
Steve comes to sit by you, leaning in to whisper happy praise for your chosen reward in your ear, and you tear your eyes away from Tony to give Steve your undivided attention.
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It doesn’t stop. It never stops. The wanting and the yearning. The need to fill that hole that can never really be filled.
That incessant need to be cared for. To be given affection. That desire to feel desired and wanted.
It’s always there and it’s always been easily met with an invitation to get a cup of coffee with Wanda or Nat. Thor inviting you out for a walk. Sam reaching out for a sparring partner, or Clint needing a live target for practice.
A small gesture of inclusion and your deepest of stirrings is quelled.
You don’t like to think about why you feel this way. You dream about it enough.
Sometimes it’s a small flicker of an image here or the fading memory of something there but lately, it’s coming back vivid and violent.
It always starts out the same.
You’re small. Tiny compared to the two large bodies beside you. One to your left. One to your right.
You lean towards the one on your right at first, clinging to that person’s arm, stroking the soft satin of a fancy dress. It feels nice. It reminds you of that cat from the summer house before it went missing.
You miss that cat and its smooth fluffy fur.
Vermillion. The dress is like a blood-orange, bright and eye-catching but she smells like Chanel. The musk is thick but good, it invades your senses.
You shift on your bed, tossing onto your right.
Images of a beautiful face fill your mind like sudden bursts of color. Twinkling eyes. Full curving lips. Soft skin. An elegant neck. Austere pearls.
She caresses the side of your head then you giggle and lean onto the body on your left.
This one is large. Thick. Heavy. Fat? No. Sturdy. Stocky. Tall and built like a rhino with a rounded belly but he’s not fat.
He chuckles and wraps you up in his large, black tuxedo clad arm. You fist the side of his jacket, stroking this material too but the red satin is far softer. This musky scent is better though.
He smells like wood, with the bitter tang of pepper creosote from his cigar. You don’t mind. It smells like home. He smells safe. He smells like you’re shielded, and nothing can ever harm you.
You toss onto your back, groaning as you frown. Daddy. Your mind thinks.
The ambient whoosh draws you closer and closer to sleep.
You pass out, clinging to him, a tiny smile on your lips.
Life is perfect. The soft babble of their words helps lull you. Her tinkling laugh sounds far away but it’s beautiful and you wish you could laugh like she does.
It makes him chuckle and you can feel the love between them.
They fade away and you’re in darkness. You’re standing alone with nothing and no one around you.
Only, it’s not you. The girl is older. Much older. Like Mommy. Who is she? She looks like mommy too but not exactly. She looks like a cheap imitation. Not as beautiful. Not as sweet.
“Daddy?” You open your mouth to speak and the girl in the darkness opens her mouth to speak too.
You freeze as your young mind catches up with your dream. You’re the cheap imitation.
She takes a step forward, that mock-mommy. She splits into two. The other one turns to look at you and you’re staring at yourself, confused.
“Who-?” You begin to ask but the other one opens her mouth to ask too. “Who are-?”
She cuts you off again. You sigh.
The other you smiles, too wide. It’s scary. Your little child heart thrums wildly as fear and panic bubble up in your tiny guts.
You shift uncomfortably, fighting the terror that begins to spread through you.
She presses her hand to her chest, laying it flat against her breasts before she begins to cup it until only her fingertips are touching your shirt.
You stare at her movements, unsure of what you’re looking at.
It takes every bit of courage not to run.
She pulls her hand away from her chest and then lays it flat out in front of you.
You look down and at the very center of her palm is a small silver gleam, the brightest bit of teal at the very edges. It shimmers and shakes chaotically while the silver sits still, stretching and constricting back into place.
For a moment all you can do is stare at the silver and teal. This light is scary.
You groan, kicking your legs as your hands fist your sheets.
When you look back up at her, her eyes are gone. They are black pools of threat and your little heart panics.
The silver and teal light releases a pulse and you’re blind.
You hear panicked cries. Mommy…she’s scared.
“No.” You whimper.
Daddy’s arm is gone from you and you open your eyes to see that same silver pulsing around you.
“What’s happening?” Mommy asks, “What is that? What’s she doing?”
It takes you a moment to realize she’s talking about you.
Daddy is forcing the steering wheel to the left and the right. The sounds of the tires squealing against the asphalt of the road is loud and nearly drowns out their screams. Almost.
“Hold on!” Daddy shouts, but the light flashes once more and the car is suddenly up in the air.
You can see Mommy and Daddy floating around you. They’re not moving and you’re safe beside them.
It’s all over in one violent tumble.
The car lands with a loud metallic clatter. It rolls and rolls, tossing them around with abandon. You hear their bones crack and break. Femur, humerus, ribs, neck; one sickening crunch after the other.
Crimson paints the air, it paints the car and the pavement beneath.
As the shatter of glass dies and your body falls painfully onto the street between them, you look around, searching for that safety from before. Searching for Daddy. For Mommy.
“Mom…” You cry.
Your eyes meet hers. Dead eyes. Unmoving eyes. She’s gone.
Your own small body feels twisted and battered but not broken. Not like them.
There is no crimson on you that is yours and something in you tells you that it’s you. You did this.
Even as a baby, a little one, you know that you did this. You killed your parents.
“Mom!” You gasp, sitting up with spasms of fear shaking your hands.
They tremble, clutching the thin sheet you’re covering yourself with in tight fists. It all feels so…present.
“Y/N? Your heartrate is elevated. You seem to be having an episode. Shall I alert the infirmary?” F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s accented voice fills your room with a soft worried whisper.
It always astonishes you, how concerned she seems. Like she’s really genuinely worried about you. Like she can really feel it. Like she’s not just a bunch of ones and zeroes programmed to have just the exact right responses.
“No.” You tell her, and she turns up your lights for you, dimming them up slightly as you throw your blanket off and place your feet on the soft black carpet of your bedroom.
You’re still reeling, trying to come to grips with the here and now and not the lifeless bodies of your parents floating around your head. Instead of your parents, in your room there are several small objects floating above their designated spots.
Your glass jewelry box on your nightstand. Your laptop. Several books on your desk. The picture of you and the team on your nightstand. Your shoes by the end of your bed.
“Are you sure?” F.R.I.D.A.Y. persists. “You seem to be having a fit.”
You scoff. Only one person would call what’s happening that.
“Yes. I’m sure.”
Shutting your eyes, you sigh, heartbeat finally leveling out.
“Would you like me to tell Tony-?”
“No!” You nearly scream, rising to your feet and looking for a face though you know there’s none to look at. “No. I’m fine. I just…give me a minute.”
Your stuff falls, crashing back into place. You hear the glass of your jewelry box shatter. You’ll have to buy a new one.
You stumble to the bathroom and switch the light on. Your bare feet slap gently as you cross the cold beige and gold marble tile to the sink with a quiet plap, plap, plap.
The counter becomes your center. You cling to the white concrete desperately as you stare at your reflection in the large backlit mirror.
You’re pale and sweaty. Clammy. Cold trickles of perspiration along your temples and above your lip. With trembling hands, you wipe it away.
This hasn’t happened for so long that it’s caught you off guard. Normally, there’s a build-up. The memories start slowly during waking hours. Small images of lovely people, loving and caring. Over time it all leads up to that night.
The night you killed them.
You shut your eyes tight, wishing the images away. All you can see are your mom���s eyes. Once brilliant with life not dead and staring. Daddy’s body twisted in strange and impossible angles.
You dip down into your sink and down as much water as your belly will let you drink.
It doesn’t help. Maybe a real drink? You have one so rarely. Drunk you is not good with your abilities.
Mistakes have been made. Bail has been paid. It’s how you ended up here. On the team.
Tony should have left me where I was.
The bitter thought falls away as you wander down the hallway towards the kitchen.
Thankfully, it’s empty.
You go straight for the whiskey. You pour yourself too much. You drink it. Then pour another glass before moving to sit at the island.
The brown slosh hurts your throat as it goes down. It burns, but it burns so good. Because you don’t drink very often, just one glass makes you lightheaded. The second pushes you towards unconsciousness.
Not fast enough. You start with it held between your carefully folded left arm, right hand clutching the small old-fashioned crystal glass tight as if you’re afraid it might get snatched away. As you drink, you drift forward until your heated cheek is pressed against the cool counter.
You kick your legs, swinging them casually as you stare across the kitchen at the fine, black modern cabinet. Not really seeing it but playing the moment you killed your parents over and over and over.
You see other moments too. The moment your godparents saw you use your abilities. They watched you with terror in their eyes. The next thing you knew you were in a home for girls.
You see the nice couple who took you next. Then the girl’s home again when they too became terrified of you. Then the next. A faceless couple that you were with for only two days. Then the next two were also faceless.
You lived your adolescent life out in the home.
You see yourself on your eighteenth birthday. You’re excited, dancing with the prospect of becoming a “real” woman. Or so you’d thought at the time.
You come home, smiling at the promise of the cheap birthday cake that you know you’ll get. You see your smile waver as you approach the fence of the home and two boxes full of your things are piled on the sidewalk.
Two homeless women are rifling through the clothes. Fighting over your favorite pair of jeans.
You scamper towards them, hold out your hand and you don’t mean to slip up. You don’t.
Stunning silver-teal burns them. They fly back several feet and crash against the sidewalk painfully as you hold your hand out towards them, palm open.
You shut it quickly and turn away from them as they stare at you with hate and fear. You hurry and shove your clothes back into the box they’d been looking through and shut it.
With both boxes carefully piled into your arms, you look up at the doorway to the home. Your home…Mrs. Meyerson watches you through a split in the blinds of the front window and when she sees you spot her; she shuts them and ignores you.
“Y/N?” His voice is like the hymn of angels.
It’s hot. It burns like your whiskey and tastes just as rich.
“Tony.” You whisper, a sad whimper.
You don’t lift your head because you’re crying. You don’t want him to see.
“Hey.” His voice is so soft. So gentle. F.R.I.D.A.Y. must have told him something was wrong.
He moves around you and comes into view, leaning forward a bit so that he can be more on your level as he looks at your face, still pressed against the cool counter.
“Hi.” You cry.
“Busted out the big guns, huh?” He reaches out and takes your drink from you.
You don’t fight him. The only one who you wouldn’t.
“They didn’t want me.” You sigh, sniffling as you struggle to keep from sobbing. That hole, the one that never fills right at the center of your chest aches. “None of them wanted me. They…they were afraid of me.”
Tony puts the whiskey aside and leans his elbows against the counter, getting close so that he can speak quietly. Just to you.
“Having a little pity party?” He asks, a small smile offered. “You’re drunk.”
“Yes.” You agree, reaching up to wipe at your dripping nose.
“That’s sexy.” He rattles, moving closer to stand beside you.
He’s close. You can feel the heat from his body. Dark gray t-shirt. Black sleep pants. He smells so good. Like aftershave and coconut shampoo. Despite his close proximity, he folds his arms onto the counter, shoving his hands underneath his arms as if he’s determined to keep his hands to himself.
You lean towards him but don’t touch him. He doesn’t want your touch. You know that. It makes you sob once.
“Tony?” You sigh, staring down at your hands in your lap, lower lip quivering helplessly as you’re that little girl again. Wrapped in her daddy’s safe arms. Loved by her mom. Peacefully sleeping when that nightmare awakens something within you and then the car is sent flying.
“Yeah?” He knows what he’s doing. He’s being so careful with you.
His tone is softer than it’s been in a long time. You know that it’s your fault. You’re always so forward. Throwing yourself at him. Making suggestive comments and just being a downright dumbass. You should stop it.
You look at him, blubbering still and the way that his soft brown hair sticks up at odd angles because he’s just freshly showered and was actually probably still bathing when F.R.I.D.A.Y. told him you were having a fit.
You want him. Damn it all.
With a lick to your lips, you shake your head. “I killed them, Tony.”
You sob, hating yourself. Hating your gifts. Hating your life.
“I killed them. I did. I did that. I killed them.” You repeat, as if saying it any other way will possibly make it stick any harder than it’s already sticking.
It startles you into silence when Tony pulls his left arm out and then slides his hand back behind your neck, up into your hair to hold the back of your head. He caresses you, comforting you. Loving you?
That isn’t platonic in his eyes. There’s that fire from the day on the paintball field in his eyes again. When you told him you’d go find someone else to fill your needs. When you kissed Steve.
It’s there. You can see it. Up close. He wants you. Like you want him. Why won’t he—oh, right, Pepper.
With his hand on you though, you can’t focus on her enough to care.
You lean in more towards him, burrowing into the crook of his arm. For one whole second he holds you tight. He wraps you up and pulls your head against his chest and you’re right where you want to be.
Then there’s the sound of feet from the hallway and he’s leaning against the far counter while you catch yourself on the edge of the island.
You stare up at him, still crying and now confused.
“Tony?” You ask, searching his face but he’s got his back to you now as he dumps out your whiskey.
“No more alcohol. We don’t need you lifting cars onto the roof again.” He throws at you, back tense through his t-shirt.
“Tony?” You check again, wanting to see his eyes, to have him look at you with that fire again.
Had you imagined it? Is it all in your head?
“Look, kid, just take a shower and get to bed, alright? Stop thinking about this stuff.” He orders.
Does he think you started to think about your parents on a whim? You’d dreamt about them! Bastard.
“Tony?” Another voice, deep, smooth, almost monotone in its calm nature.
You can hear the inflection of emotion because you’re so used to his voice. Steve.
“What’s going on?” He asks, looking from Tony to you.
“I…I had-” You begin but Tony cuts you off.
“A few too many. I was just sending her to bed before she puts my cars on the roof again.” He finally turns around and his face is back in its detached control.
When he looks at you, there is no fire anymore. Just stern disapproval.
Jerk.
Your shoulders slump and you make a point of sitting quiet as Steve continues to stare at you.
Clearly, you’re still upset about something. You’re still crying. Your cheeks are stained in tear tracks. You worry your lip as you wait for Tony to leave. You don’t want to be around him when he’s like this with you.
Not right now. Not when you already have all of those other people in your memory pushing you away.
“What’s the matter with Y/N? Why is she crying?” Steve wonders, genuine concern in his voice.
Tony’s had been just as worried if not more so a second ago.
“I don’t know.” Tony lies. “I’m going to bed. Pepper’s waiting.”
He says this for you, and you know that he’s drawing that line again. The line that he crossed. Continues to cross. You hate him.
You look at him.
You love him.
“Night.” Steve tells him but when Tony speaks, it’s for you.
“Go to bed. Stop drinking.” He says but you don’t respond.
He leaves and Steve settles into the seat beside you.
“You smell like the bottom of a bottle.” He observes. “How much did you have?”
You shrug.
“Not talking to me now?”
You shrug again.
“Y/N?” It’s his tone that pulls your gaze up to meet his own storm blue eyes.
His blonde hair looks soft and brushed out. His beard is full but neatly trimmed. He looks good for Steve.
Okay…he looks good for anyone. He’s a hunk. But he’s not your hunk.
“What’s going on?” He asks, reaching out to place his hand on the back of your shoulder.
“I had a nightmare.” You admit, licking your lips once more. “About my parents.”
Steve already knows what happened with your parents. He doesn’t need an explanation.
Tony had consulted him before you were allowed on the team after all.
He nods, understanding you in an instant. For a long moment he thinks.
You can see the idea forming in his head and only after you’re stuck staring at him with unbridled curiosity does he turn to sit facing you. One hand on the back of your chair, the other placed on the counter in front of you.
“I like you.” He says, just like that.
You’re drunk. Hearing him say that, throws you.
“What?” You ask, narrowing your eyes at him confused. You must be hearing things.
“You heard me.” He says, stern, hard. No games.
“Steve…” You start, blinking hard to clear the buzz from your head.
“I know…” He sighs, scooting in closer as he grabs hold of your seat and turns you to face him. “I know where your head is. And your heart.”
Your cheeks flare. They flame and burn, and your neck burns too. You haven’t exactly tried to hide how you feel about Tony but to be called out on it?
“I can’t speak as to where his head is at, but I know that he’s not going to look your way with Pepper there.”
You hate Steve too. You look down at his chest, hating the knowing glint in his eyes.
His thumb and forefinger close around the tip of your chin and tilt your head back until you can look into his eyes again.
“What I can tell you is that I’m interested. I wasn’t playing when I said and did all those things. I don’t know if maybe you thought I was just flirting, but I wasn’t. I like you.” He confesses.
You’re so startled that your heart pounds. You shake your head, but he doesn’t release you. If anything, he leans in closer.
“I can’t give you what you want.” You tell him, knowing that all deep affection is diverted to the jerk that just left the room.
“I know.” He acknowledges. “What can you give me?”
Is he seriously asking?
“I-”
“It doesn’t have to be detailed, Y/N. I just…I’m not exactly in a place to make commitments either. This job we have, it’s tough. I’ve left love behind for it before and odds are, I’ll have to do it again. I’m not going into this with any illusions. I just want to pass the time with you.
“You’re funny and you never do what I expect you to do. You’re easy to talk to and you’re sexy as hell.” He smiles and you’re suddenly very aware of your stupid blubbering face and how much of a mess it actually is.
“Yeah, right.” You gasp, yanking your chin out of his grip.
“You are.” He insists. “You’re not like other people and I like that. So, what can you give me?”
You think. You think hard and as fast as you can.
He’s right. Tony is never going to give in. He’s never going to look at you the way you see him. You’re tired of feeling alone and unwanted. Steve is offering you a little bit of companionship. It’s not love but it’s not being alone.
Maybe you should know better but it’s too tempting. And it’s been a while. Your libido is going to go dormant if you don’t get under someone soon.
That’s what you decide you can give him.
“I can’t love you.” You tell him.
“That’s…that’s okay.” He says.
“I think I can like you.” You sigh. “Kissing you wasn’t bad.”
“Oh,” He chuckles. “That’s good to know. Thanks.”
You smile, eased by his amusement. He’s right. He’s easy to talk to as well.
With trembling hands, you reach up to trace the outline of his chest through his t-shirt. He’s so hard. Super Soldier perfection. It doesn’t mean as much like Tony’s physique does because Steve gets this on default, but you’d be lying if you said it isn’t nice.
He puts his hand over yours and holds it against his chest.
“Is this a yes? You’ll be with me?” He asks, hopeful.
After a second, you nod. He leans in towards you, excitement in his eyes.
“We’re not a couple.” Your clarification stops him in his tracks. “But we’re also not, not a couple. I want you. I do. It’s been such a long time and I…are you a virgin?”
You suddenly ask him this, wondering because of his past with Peggy. You’re not sure he would have had the time to be with her back then.
Steve laughs genuinely amused by your question before he hops off of his stool. He grabs you, one arm underneath your legs, the other your back as he lifts you up into his arms and begins to walk with you towards his bedroom.
“Guess that rumor’s still floating around. Nat?” He asks.
You nod, reaching up to hold him around his neck.
“Don’t worry, doll-face. We’ll get that rumor cleared up.”
“Right now?” You ask, slightly startled at the prospect of sleeping with Steve so quickly.
“Unless you wanna wait?” He asks, stopping just outside your doorway.
You bite your lips, considering for a moment the prospect of sleeping in that bed again, your dreams fresh and vivid.
“No.” You protest. “Kiss me, Steve.”
He dips his head and continues on, kissing the whiskey away.
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oh-boleyn · 5 years ago
Text
te para tres
words: 3805, language: english. jane & kat (kind of mom/daughter relationship)
author’s note: I wanted to keep multichapters on my ao3 but I actually kind of like this fic, and so I thought to post it here too! anyway it is also in ao3
tags: jane & kat - centric, kat is homeless, jane is trying her best, canon abuse/non con, tw abuse, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Families of Choice, Light Angst, pregnant!jane, sickness
part one: las tazas sobre el mantel
un poco de miel
They get into the apartment. Katherine is a mess, but getting slowly better. Her eyes are red rimmed for all the crying, cheeks puffy and crimson. Jane takes a moment to contemplate her. If she didn’t before, she certainly looks like a child now, small, curled up on herself, and young — so young.
Her clothes are obviously too big, hanging from her body. She is more than thin, probably what is expected from someone living on the street, but definitely not healthy.
“Would you like a cup of tea?” Jane offers, fighting an urge to reach out to the girl.
“Yes.”
She puts her hands to use in making the tea, trying to calm the itch to touch the teen, while Katherine stands awkwardly calming her breath in the middle of the room. She doesn’t want to be alone, but at the same time is too afraid to ask for the older to stay with her.
Jane sets two mugs on the table, gesturing to Katherine to take a seat. She obeys, almost instantly. The long-sleeved shirt and a pair of leggings, catches Jane’s attention. If she still feels freezing with her coat on, the girl must be gelid.
“Are you cold?” She questions.
Katherine shrugs, without giving a proper answer. Jane doesn’t push for one. She extends a hand over the table, slowly, making sure to not overwhelm the other with the gesture. Surprise comes when the hand is quickly grabbed by Katherine, who starts crying again.
Jane moves forward and embraces Kat, letting her cry without trying to stop her. As expected, she is icy, and the future mother is growing afraid about her catching a cold or something worse. Searching for Kat’s bag, she realizes that the usual backpack is not with her.
“Sweetheart,” The way to call her comes almost instinctive for Jane, who hates herself for a moment thinking she might make Katherine uncomfortable. “do you have something with you?”
“I… I ran.” It enough for Jane to shush her.
“Would you like to take a shower?”
“Can I stay with you for a moment?” Katherine almost begs.
“Yes, as you wish, but you are going to get sick, so I will go for a blanket, would that be alright?”
The girl dissents.
“If we went for one, would that be better?”
She repeats the movement.
“I’m so sorry Jane.” Her voice breaks. “I’m truly sorry.”
“It’s alright Kat, it’s alright.”
They spend the night just sitting, drinking the tea that at some point lost its warmth, talking about trivialities. There is a stiffness in the air none of them can erase, and Katherine flinches from time to time, depending on a sound or a sudden movement. Jane gets Kat to smile at some point, which is more than what she was expecting.
The older woman thinks her words over time and time again, hesitant to not lose all the progress they made, but reluctant to just rely on it. She knows Kat is frightened, and she deserves to feel safe, but Jane is not sure how she can manage to do so. That doesn’t stop her from trying.
(…)
Next morning finds them in little to no sleep, with Katherine asking Jane to please go and rest. The older one does the same to her. After the initial unwillingness, the teenager agrees to sleep on the couch.
(…)
Katherine is confused when she wakes up.
She has a headache, mind foggy about last night's events. Memories don’t come instantly, and panic creeps in. The air of her lungs missing, she guides a hand to her chest. Kat is inside a house, but can’t remember how that happened.
“Kathy? Love?” Jane calls. “Breathe with me.”
She can hear someone talking, but can’t process the words. She can’t distinguish the hand touching her arm, nor the woman in front of her. Her body seems to not belong to her mind, and instead she freezes, but her breath remains hard and troubled.
When she snaps back, blue eyes stare at her.
“I’m sorry.” She mutters.
“It’s alright love.”
(…)
“I think I will be going, thank you for today.” Katherine says, but Jane stops her.
“You can stay.” She offers it before having the chance to really think about it. “You can stay here, at least until you get back your things.”
Katherine forgot it. Her bag was just left in the street, it was probably gone by now. It happened to have all her clothes and her toothbrush, and most importantly her art supplies. The money earned the previous evening was the only thing in her pockets.
The fear goes down her spine, even if Jane has just been kind to her, how long would it take for her to get tired? To stop helping? Nobody was just kind because it was the right thing to do. The world didn’t work around generosity.
“I don’t want to stay.” She snaps.
As soon as she said it, a part of her was sure it was a lie.
The apartment, even if scary, was great. It had water. Since they met, Jane gave her food regularly. Katherine was eating almost every day, as well as talking to someone. It felt like being back to being alive. Almost as if she was a person again.
“What if I offer you just a place to stay at night?” Jane questioned. “You can spend your day doing whatever you want to do, I won’t stop you, but you have to come here before dinner.”
Her voice is stern, the older knows she can’t take back the proposal once it’s done. The fear lays heavy on her, after watching the girl yesterday it only became worse. She doesn’t know Katherine, not at all. All she knows are trivialities, her liking for the colour pink and one or two stories about her past.
A part of her trust the teenager, maybe considering her too young to even be evil, or it could be just her own naiveté.
“What’s the catch? What do you want in return?”
“Nothing.” Jane is quick to say it. “But you will have to respect some rules, such as not doing drugs nor make anything that could cause us harm. I might ask for help from time to time. Outside that, nothing more.”
“I’m not a charity case for you to feel better with yourself.”
“I know.”
“Good.” Katherine toys with her fingers. “I just need time to get back on my feet, that’s all.”
“You have all the time you need.”
(…)
Jane notices Kat wakes up first, every day, without fail.
She just bolts awake, and when the older comes out of her room, she is usually resting on the couch, toying with her hands.
The first task Katherine receives relates to it.
Consisting on turning the TV on, and enjoying herself watching whatever she wants until the clock marks five minutes before Jane’s alarm. The teenager’s obligation is making the tea while Jane fixes something for both of them to eat, normally eggs, tomatoes and bread for the pregnant woman, morning sickness deciding it was the only plate she might eat without throwing up, while Katherine ate what Jane offered, one time even offering pancakes.
The second task is helping her before dinner, helping with the clothes for the next shoot. Katherine gets to keep some garments, which are gladly received after the lost bag. She never keeps anything that appears to be too expensive, nor anything that can’t fit in the new backpack she got from a charity, still Jane keeps it all, just in case Katherine might want it someday.
The third task she takes it herself. Katherine starts cleaning the dishes every night after dinner, just before moving to the couch. It makes her feel better, less guilty about living off Jane. She starts considering that maybe good things can happen to her.
(…)
Working is not exactly as great as it used to be.
Jane gets headaches at any given moment, and without having the capacity of just taking any pill to make them disappear, her work load gets heavier to do. She almost ends up mixing the light orange shirts with the sweet peach ones, what could’ve been a chaos if they did the shot that way.
Katherine’s well being still worries her, even if she spends more time in the house nowadays, she is still not living there, and she spends hours on the street. Jane is afraid that one day she might not come back, that something might happen to her, but she pushes through.
“Everything okay?” Anna questions.
“I am just worrying over Kath.”
“Whom?” Cathy interrupts.
“Katherine, she is a girl from the street who is staying with me at night.” Jane explains.
“That is kind, Seymour.” Aragon talks.
The three women stare at her for a moment, not knowing about their boss's presence.
“We will get back to work.” Anna says, turning to grab her camera.
“Girls, don’t worry.” Catherine makes a sign to Anna for her to return to the conversation. “How old is this girl?”
“Fifteen. She should be turning sixteen soon.”
“Oh, she is younger than Mary. Fifteen is a rough age.”
“She is a lovely child, still she doesn’t talk a lot.” Jane takes a deep breath. “I have been taking the extra clothes home for her, I hope that is not a problem.”
“It isn’t. God knows people in fashion think that wearing something twice is bad. As if!” Aragon offers a smile. “Gift her any extra clothes. But gift me the summer photoshoot.”
(…)
"Kat? Do you mind sharing the couch?" Jane asks, softly.
"No, why?"
"I am not tired, at all. Must be some second trimester thing. Do you want to watch a movie?" She proposes.
"Sure. Let me clean the dishes first."
Katherine moves from the table, taking the plates with her. Jane shifts to the couch, turning on the TV. She idles changing channels, settling on a movie that is just starting when the teenager comes to sit next to her. They stare at it for a while, without talking nor sitting closer, still it's comfortable.
"I think I saw this movie, but I can't remember." Katherine comments.
"Do you want to see something else?"
"No, not really. I like comedies." The teenager smiles.
Moving slowly, she rests her head on Jane's shoulder. The older one helped her settle.
Before she realizes, Katherine is peacefully asleep, snorting softly, more relaxed than what Jane ever saw her. It makes her consider that the girl practically looks happy, far from the haunted look she had the first time she got into the house.
That night, both of them sleep on the couch.
(…)
Katherine bites her tongue not to announce that it was her birthday.
Jane doesn’t understand why the teenager is acting so angry, snapping at her at any given chance. For the last week or so she acted different, strange. Almost getting in too late, and refusing to finish her food. She seemed to be anywhere else, not living in the moment but rather being in another world.
If it wasn’t because she found her crying just before going to sleep, she wouldn’t have known.
“Kath? Dearest? What’s going on?”
“It’s my birthday.” Katherine talks between sobs.
Jane gives a glance to the clock and grabs two coats.
“Wear this, we are going out.”
Katherine is afraid that it might be Jane’s way to kick her out. She changes as quickly as she can with trembling hands. She makes sure to take her bag, thinking if her new toothbrush is there.
They get to a 24 hours café, where Jane orders two pieces of cake as soon as they arrive.
“If I had known, we would have done this way sooner.” She smiles. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you we were coming here, I was afraid it might be closed and didn’t want to give you false hope. But, cake is on it’s way. Happy birthday, Katherine.”
Tears are streaming freely down her face.
“It is the first time I hear it in three years.” She confesses. “I have been living three years as if I don’t exist. People walked past me and didn’t care. I was kicked out of stores, restaurants, malls. I felt like I have forgotten kindness, I hated this day and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but it is easier this way, protect myself. I don’t want to be a nobody without a birthday.”
“Love, you are not a nobody. You are Katherine, the girl who sleeps on my couch and watches Disney before I am even awake. I am so fond of you; you don’t have an idea.” She kisses the teenager’s temple. “You are not a nobody for me, and probably for the baby in the future. I want you to stick around. Maybe next year you can have a proper birthday, what do you say?”
Katherine squeezes herself on Jane’s side, hugging her strong but carefully not to put so much pressure in the growing bump.
“Happy birthday, love.” Jane whispers, stroking the girl’s hair.
 (…)
One day, the older woman wakes up to quiet sobs coming from the bathroom. She arises from bed, careful. The couch looks like a mess, and one of the pillows is without its case.
“Katherine? Sweetheart? Are you in the bathroom?”
“Yes, I will come out in a minute, I swear.”
“Do you have clothes on? Can I come in?”
The teenager doesn’t answer, but she opens the door.
“I’m so sorry, but it’s just…” Her breath is heavy, and there are traces of tears on her cheeks. “I got my period, and I made a bit of a mess, and I don’t have pads, and- “
Jane shushes her. “Don’t worry, periods are normal.” She opens the cabinet, grabbing a pack of pads. “Here, use them, it’s not like I can find them of any use right now.”
She laughs, putting a hand slowly on her stomach. It is still not noticeable, but there is a swell that wasn’t there before.
“Clean yourself, I will bring some clothes.” Jane takes the pillowcase, and before crossing the door, questions: “Do you want a painkiller?”
“Please.” Kat begs.
When she is left alone, the teenager starts getting into the shower, feeling warm water on her skin. It’s the first time she decides to have a real shower. Most of the time she cleaned herself as best as she could, trying to not take her clothes away in case someone spied on her, but Jane proved to be trustworthy, hence why she was slowly relaxing.
The truth was that Jane could also kick her out any day, so she shouldn’t fall into fully relaxing. Turning sixteen meant more chances to find a job, trying to have money for herself. Still, no one wanted to hire a girl without studies or even a fixed address. Katherine trusted herself, she had been living and passing by for most of her –if not her whole— teenage life.
Hearing a knock on her door, she lets Jane come in. The curtain of the shower covering her.
“I left you some clothes, I think those should fit you well, Cathy gave them to you.” She makes a pause. “I also left underwear, it’s new, I have some more in my wardrobe in case wanted or needed.”
Katherine hears the door click, and slowly goes out of the shower.
There lays new underwear, including a black sports bra. Also, a pair of leggings, a shirt and a bright pink pullover. She quickly changes, making sure not to leave a wet path behind her, and cleaning any chaos she might’ve left behind.
Jane is in the kitchen, waiting for her.
“I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to be, periods are just natural.” Jane says. “How long does your period last? Do you want me to buy you more pads?”
Katherine twitches her nose. “I don’t know, it’s my first period.”
Jane frowns.
“Living on the street meant not eating every day, I once spent four days without eating. A lady told me that might be the reason I never got my period. She gifted me pads, but they stole that backpack not long after.”
“I will just say, periods are gross, and painful sometimes. I’m here if you need me, even if I am luckily not having my periods for some more months.”
The way Jane laughs helps Katherine to relax, falling into the comfortable house they have started to build. It was strange, that knowing each other for a couple of months they felt like they belonged. A familiar feeling, as something long lost.
(...)
"Katherine, do you have something to do today?"
"I was going to try and get some money, you know singing. I need to get my art stuff back, people pay more for that rather than any singing I can do." She explained.
"I will pay you if you help me grocery shopping." Jane offers.
"No, don't pay me. I'll go but don't pay me, you are doing enough already." Katherine says. "When are we going?"
"I will change clothes first, are you ready?" Jane questions.
"Yeah, sure."
They get to the store not long after, deciding on going with public transport instead of taking a taxi.
Katherine can feel her anxiety building up. Walking through the entrance is dreadful, something she clearly doesn't want to do, but Jane is talking so happily and carelessly that the idea of running away makes her feel guilty.
She pulls through it. Nobody asks her to go away, instead they are nice. When Jane asks where the sugar aisle is a man smiles and offers to take them there. People are not surprised or disgusted by her presence like they usually were, they just don’t care. Not in a bad way, but rather a normal one. Not like she is invisible, but as she is an equal.
They pass through an aisle with lots of hair products, and Katherine stares at it for a moment.
“Do you want hair dye?” Jane questions.
“No, thank you.”
“You sure? I love weird hair color.” She gives an attentive look. “Look, they have fuchsia! It would look so good on you.”
“Really?” Katherine looks unconvinced, but the idea tempts her.
“Yes! Really.” Jane picks it. “I can dye your hair today when we get home. What do you think?”
Katherine nods.
Her anxiety driven day ends up with both of them in the bathroom, reading how to apply the dye while eating the cookies they got from their trip back. For a night, she gives herself the opportunity to just be a teenager, caring about her hair and looks.
It feels good.
Being with Jane feels good.
(…)
“I don’t want to go there.” The teenager protests.
“But they can help you, they have programs to go back to school.”
“Those places are dumb, and you are dumber if you think I am going.”
Katherine was being impossible.
Sooner or later she had to start planning her future, a future that didn’t involve living on the streets, but when bringing back any organization that might help, the younger refused. Didn’t even want to check the websites, nor talk about it.
Was her baby going to be so stubborn?
“Why? Please, just give me a reason.” Jane begged.
“I don’t like those places; I went to most of them. They offer help but don’t have anything.” Katherine explained, voice growing lower. “I went there for the first few nights, and it was horrible. If you are not there really soon, they no longer have beds. And older teenagers are more used to being on the street, they take advantage and…” There were tears in her eyes. “I don’t like it. Don’t send me away.”
“I won’t.”
Katherine released a breath she didn’t know she was holding.
“I won’t send you away Kath, I just want the best for you.” Her voice is sweet, soothing. “I know you are brilliant, and would do great in school.”
They stay in silence.
Katherine’s mind is reprimanding herself for what she said. Jane always had a family, a place to live. She didn’t understand at all what she was going through. How many times her things got stolen to the point she almost didn’t care when it happened again. How many nights she stayed up, afraid of any men walking on the street.
Jane didn’t know about Thomas, how he took her to his apartment, and made her sleep on his bed. Didn’t know about Francis, about last summer at her step-grandmother’s house. Didn’t know about Manox, about his music lessons.
She knew the older woman was trying her best, which was more than what any other person tried to do.
(…)
“You haven’t told your family?” Katherine questions.
Jane shrugs, finishing eating her lunch.
Today was her fifth month checkup, and they decided to have lunch together until the older had to go. Feeling at ease with each other was slowly getting more common. Starting activities such as watching movies or cooking together helped with their relationship, to the point Katherine almost considered Jane as a mentor.
“I wanted to wait, pregnancies before three months can be considered as risky ones. I was afraid I might lose it.” She explained, guiding a hand to her stomach. “But now I just fear their reaction.”
The teenager goes slightly pale, her eyes inspecting Jane before she asks: “Would they hate you?”
“No, they won’t. But I don’t think they would be happy either.” She makes a pause. “Do you want to come with me?”
Katherine eagerly nods.
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sapphicambitions · 6 years ago
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Things I Won’t Let The Writers Take Away From Me, Damn It.
Eliot’s “Becoming Me has been my greatest life project” hit HARD. I have always felt like guilty? for the fact that I’m not the person I used to be and I’m not the person my family wants me to be. Instead, I have become the person I WANT to be, not what’s expected of me and his whole character makes me feel secure in that. Made me feel secure in me.
Eliot Waugh gave me permission to not hold back. In personality and embracing who I am but also, I’ve always been nervous about being affectionate with other people, and he showed me that (as long as I have their consent) There’s really nothing weird about casual touches or being open about my love for people. I should be more open with my love.
Margo gave me permission to put some feral in my life. For too long, I’ve been quiet and apologetic and hiding my anger under a guide of politeness and Margo Hanson gave me permission to be angry. To not hide that anger, to not hide my emotions to make someone else comfortable. She gave me permission to be strong and independent and confident in a way that I didn’t know I had in me.
Quentin gave me permission to not be ashamed about being nerdy or awkward or knowing lots of things and wanting to share my info. That’s like a small thing, but it powers me a lot. 
I don’t even know that I can fully describe everything that 3x05 gave me. 
The gay fantasia of running away with your love to live out the rest of your days in the middle of the fucking woods. There’s a whole queer history behind it, it’s my number one escapist fantasy, and seeing it played out on screen was very fucking emotional.
The idea of queer parenthood. It was something I had rejected for so long and now im weirdly open to the idea of having kids with a partner? This is a big fucking deal to me, as someone who has always rejected the idea of parenthood. Like, a big BIG deal to me. Like kind of an earth shattering type big deal to me. 
Growing old/living your life with your same sex partner. I genuinely cannot name another piece of media that portrays this seriously. I’ve never seen it in a fantasy/drama/serious show. I’ve never seen it! I’ve never seen a queer couple grow old together. Not even in real life! I’m literally tearing up just thinking about it. For a community that is so often killed while we’re young for existing as ourselves, to see two men grow old (like OLD) side by side, struck me like nothing else. THAT is my biggest take away from that episode. That I have the RIGHT to grow old with the love of my life. And it is a real option I have. That it can be done.
The key from 3x05 will always be a symbol of all of that for me and I want to get it tattooed one day. Even after that fucking finale.
Also peaches have always been gay culture but now even more
Quentin facing his Depression Monster is another thing that hit HARD. His whole little speech about how “I’ve come up against you before, asshole, and I won” or something like that was suUuper inspiring and exactly what I needed to hear in my life when I watched that episode and I think about it every time i deal with my depression.
Also honestly season three was just great storytelling and I loved all of it.
Goddess!Julia is a woman reclaiming her life 
High. King. Margo. 
Escape from the Happy Place. sigh.
An in depth analysis of a queer person’s mind, trauma, and past. That episode wasn’t just eliot centric, it felt like it was giving an acknowledgment to queer people in general. (i wish it had been)
I like can’t even formulate properly what the throne room/park scene did for me. “Proof of Concept” and “Peaches and Plums” was a life changing thing to watch, not just cause like “yay my ship!” If you’re LGBTQ, you know what I’m sayin. The validation. The hope. The promise. The narrative weight. the truth. The look in Eliot’s eyes. Sometimes i feel like my whole life was waiting for that moment, as dumb as that sounds.
I can’t fully speak about the queliot in season four and how it affected me to think I was getting queer narrative weight and to get to see one man fight like hell to get another man back to him in this context of “The writers can’t take it from me!” because they kind of did but I’m working on reclaiming that. I just need more time.
4x10. All that hard, glossy, armor, babey.
Margo’s tent speech changed my life. Full stop. I am a different person after that episode, in a good way. (not in like the finale way) I literally wrote part of that speech on my bathroom mirror so i could look at it every morning. That speech ignited something in me.
“I’m a king. Not a goddamned princess. A king.”
Women being allowed to show rage on screen affects me deeply.
“They do whatever it takes to help women.”
The entirety of “Storm Coming” affected me almost as deeply as the tent speech did. There are no words to describe what it did for me! I literally wrote “I’m the storm coming!” on a post it note and stuck it to my front door so it’s the last thing I see before I leave in the morning. It’s my hype up song and I still listen to it when I need a confidence boost or to get hyped up. 4x10 is like, in the top three of their best episodes.
Wow so weird that the season ended after 4x10
I am hurting so so so much from the finale, still, even after two weeks. But I can’t and won’t deny what the show has done for me in the past (and the ways it’s saved my life.) And I won’t let them take that away from me. So I’m reclaiming what they tried to take from me. The show and its characters don’t belong to the writers anymore, they belong to us. Damn it.
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eldritchsurveys · 5 years ago
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740.
How many walls are in your bedroom? >> Six, because the closet juts out from one of the corners. What do you think about Fall Out Boy? >> I enjoy their music quite a bit, especially Save Rock and Roll and Mania. Do you know where Guatemala is? >> Generally, yes. Specifically, nope. Do you find musicians attractive? >> I think being skilled in an art form -- but especially music -- is attractive, but not, like, “I want to sleep with you”-attractive, which is what I think people mean by this question. Just... I like art, I especially like music, by extension I’m interested by people who make art and especially music. Do you like hard boiled eggs? >> Yeah.
Do you know anyone named Hector? >> I used to, but we didn’t really call him that, we called him Luis. Would you move to another country for the one you love? >> I’ve moved across country for someone, but emigration is a lot harder than that, so I don’t know. I think what’s more important is whether I could even emigrate in the first place, seeing as the process is difficult even for people with money and marketable skills... Do you own an instrument? >> No. What do you usually have for lunch? >> I don’t usually eat a lunch, per se. I kind of graze for most of the day. The most organised thing I might make is a sandwich or some microwave thing. Ever had a pregnancy scare? >> Yes. What do you think about the Purple People Eater? >> I don’t really know what it is, if I’m honest. I’ve heard the song and I’ve heard references to it, but that’s it. Are you pale or tan? >> Dark-skinned. I’ve seen complaints about the America-centric lines of questioning in surveys, but can we talk about the whiteness lmao... What’s the weather like right now? >> Cloudy and chilly. I don’t know where Lady Spring is, but someone please tell her that I am dying. Do you like cats? >> Not especially. I can live with one if I must, obviously, since I do; but I’m not really interested in his existence or anything. I’m kind of turned off by people going apeshit about cats all the time, if I’m honest, but it’s hard to be honest about that without people taking offense. It’s not you, it’s me, etc etc. (It’s probably because I’m a spider and everyone hates spiders.) What’s the best part about Wal*Mart? >> I don’t know, I’m not terribly fond of Wal*Mart myself. Do you think Akon is amazing or annoying? >> I haven’t heard his name in years, lmao. Also, I have no opinion. Do you like the buzz cigarettes give you? >> Yeah, which is the reason I pick up a clove every now and then. Sometimes I just want to get into that headspace. Are you a practical joker? >> No. Do you like pop? >> Not the Pepsi and Coke kinds. I like “weird” sodas, I guess. And ginger beer, which is sort of like a soda. What are you looking forward to? >> Hmm. Oh, Sparrow is going back to work on Monday, apparently! Out of context it sounds like I hate her or something, probably, but it’s not that at all. She’s the only person I can bear being quarantined with. But like, I just like being in the apartment alone for a while. I feel... constricted when someone else is around all the time, and while that’s lessened with her it isn’t nonexistent lmao. I just need time where I’m left to my own devices without being observed by other people, any other people, it’s a weird need but it’s mine and I’ll be glad to have that need met again. Have you ever laughed so hard you couldn’t breathe? >> Yeah. What’s your favorite band? >> The Receiving End of Sirens is one. Do you feel stupid when you spill things on yourself? >> Yeah. Are you excited for summer? >> I would be, under normal circumstances! Now I just dread having to be stuck inside for the whole thing. I’m going to try walking trails and stuff, just to... be the fuck outside, but still. Have you ever snuck out? >> No. When’s the last time you were kissed? >> Oh, I don’t know. Would you ever eat popcorn & salsa? >> No, thanks. Do you sleep with the television on? >> Nope. I require silence. The only exception is, say, I’m in a motel room and other guests are being rowdy. Then I’ll put on something to, like, have a controlled and constant sound going as a counter to their chaos. Would you ever want to be able to be invisible? >> I mean, sure, there are situations where I could see that being advantageous. What does your favorite shirt look like? >> I don’t have one. What’s your favorite scent? >> ^ Skype, Msn, Aim, or Yahoo? >> Discord. What’s your favorite time of the day? >> I like dawn. I also like dusk, but only in the summer. Summer dusk is a beautiful thing. Do you hate the phrase “love ya” when coming from a boyfriend/girlfriend? >> No...? What do you do when someone in the room has b.o.? >> Distance myself as much as possible, as discreetly as possible. I don’t want to embarrass them, I just don’t want to deal with sensory overload. What movie would you like to see right now? >> Oh, stuff. How many times a day do you shower? >> It depends on the day. Some days, zero. Some days, once. What do you think of the name Chloe? >> It’s all right. I wouldn’t give it to a character, but it’s all right. Do you like Hollister? >> I’ve never even been inside one. (I’m pretty sure that’s one of the stores that they spray fragrance throughout, like Abercrombie, so that’s all the reason I need to never go inside.) What’s your favorite alcoholic drink? >> Absinthe. Do you like 80’s music? >> Sure, some of the music I like was made in the eighties. Do you have to wear glasses or have contacts? >> No. Do you play Halo or Gears of War? >> I played Gears with a friend years ago. I don’t play it now, though. That kind of game is pretty much only enjoyable for me with a friend, so. How do you feel about cleaning? >> I hate it, but I love the results. What do you think of emo kids? >> I appreciate them. Do you like the movie Grease? >> I haven’t seen it since I was a teenager, probably, so I don’t really remember it. I just have a vague recollection of a couple of the songs, and I remember what the main characters looked like. I’d probably like it if I watched it again; my thing for greasers is still alive and kickin, after all. Do you like singing? >> Sure do.
What’s your favorite Jim Carrey movie? >> The Number 23! I love that movie so much. Now I want to rewatch it.... I’m going to rewatch it. I’m going to spend four dollars to rent it on YouTube as soon as I’m finished with this smh, I can’t resist. It just hits me right where I live,  something about it is so intensely relatable for me, I don’t know. Probably because I’m haunted by a number, too. Runner-up for fave Carrey flick is Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. There’s a knock at your door at 4 in the morning; what do you do? >> Nothing. Whoever it is, we have no business with them. Do you like peaches? >> Sure. Ever lost a best friend? >> No.
Ever heard of a town called Wadena? >> No. Have you ever been to a funeral? >> Yes. What’s your favorite sport? >> Figure skating. What do you think about homeschooling? >> I’m interested in it, and the ways in which it can be implemented. I’m also pretty against a lot of things about public schooling in America, so, you know. What do you think about French people? >> I don’t have any opinions about French people. Do you like your parents? >> They don’t like me, which I think settles the issue right there. What do you think about Minnesota? >> I don’t have any thoughts about Minnesota. Do/did you like high school? >> I did not. Do you have any Asian friends? >> I’m acquainted with a few Asian people. Is it cold where you live? >> Yes, still. I fucking hate it. Do you find accents attractive? >> I mean, not as a rule. I find the mechanics of language interesting, so that attracts me, I guess. Do you hate it when people make spelling mistakes? >> No. Would you ever let your boyfriend/girlfriend do your makeup? >> Sure. She knows more about it than I do. Do you like to shop? >> No. How long are you on the computer during a 24 hour period? >> For just about the entire time I’m awake, nowadays. When I’m not in quarantine, then it depends on what else is happening that day. Is money really that important? >> I mean, sure it’s important. I can’t believe that would ever be in question. Wars are fought over it, people suffer and die because they don’t have enough of it, and people lose their whole sense of compassion and empathy when they have too much of it. It’s important, all right. Have you ever broken a bone? >> Nope. Who is your favorite family member? >> --- What size bed do you have? >> Twin, because it’s the only size that would fit in this room without making it utterly claustrophobic. I bark my elbow on the wall and accidentally knock shit off my nightstand all the time, but at least it’s a real bed that belongs to me, for once. What age do you want to be married? >> Well, I was 32, so.
What’s the last thing your wrote? >> Like, longhand? I have no idea. What do you think of your town? >> I don’t care for it. When’s the last time you played hide & go seek? >> Thanksgiving or some holiday like that. I played with Edward, who is a toddler. I always play with him when we see his parents on holidays, even when it makes me tired (where do kids get all that energy???), because I like him.
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solastia · 7 years ago
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Kitten Addition  | 2
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Read This Part First: My Puppy [1] [2] [3]
Kitten Addition: [1]
Pairing: Taehyung x Reader, Jimin x Reader, Taehyung x Jimin
Word Count: 3,571
Genre & Warnings: Mentions of cancer, referenced smut. 
Notes: Ok, so this chapter is mostly plot building, so there’s no dirty smut. There is a scene I was thinking about going back and adding some time, so you may have an excuse to reread eventually. I’ll let you guys know when I get around to doing that. There are bits of teasing and hints of smuttish activity, but yeah, this is Y/N going through some shit. Also, it turned out more Jungkook centric than planned, but it’s still good. I just know how much you guys have been wanting to read this so after rewriting it like five times, I’m rushing it out. Don’t worry. The next chapter is all about Jimin and his peach ;)
“Rise and shine, Y/N!”
A deep and overly excited voice rumbled in my ear before I felt him move down to bury his nose in my neck. He places sweet little kisses there, making all thoughts of beating him with a pillow flee my mind. With a groan I manage to crack my eyes open, sunlight from the opened window practically blinding me. The offensive light is thankfully blocked when Taehyung’s shaggy head moves into my view, his boxy smile wide and happy. 
“Fine, I’m rising. I refuse to shine until I’ve had my coffee though.” I manage to croak out, voice still thick from sleep. 
“I bet if I rise I can make you shine,” Taehyung smirked, leaning down to peck me on the lips. 
“Ugh, it’s too early to be a greaseball. Now I need incentive to get up because you may have just ruined my morning entirely.” I tease as I wrap my legs around his waist and suck on the already fading bruise I’d put on his jaw the night before. 
“You make me so happy,” I whisper, nosing his face playfully. 
Taehyung lets out a low growl and nips at my neck, moving down slowly. Both of us freeze in shock as we are disrupted by the doorbell. 
“Who the hell would disturb us at eight in the morning?” I whine, getting off the bed reluctantly to put on my robe. Taehyung rushes to answer the door with me behind him mumbling under my breath. 
“I didn’t think he’d be here until later since he knows our schedules, but it’s Jimin’s move-in day, remember?!” Taehyung reminds me as we travel to the front door. 
“Why is everyone always moving in here? Why don’t you guys buy me a mansion and move me in there for once? And didn’t I give Jimin a key already?” I mutter and Taehyung laughs. 
“Do you want a mansion, my grumpy Princess? We’ll set you up good.”
“No, I don’t actually want a mansion. All of our staff would quit within a week after seeing us naked 90% of the time, and then I would be the one stuck cleaning the place.” 
Taehyung waggles his eyebrows then looks at the camera. He turns to me with confusion in his eyes. 
“It’s a lady.”
“A lady? Like, someone selling something? Let me see.” I peer at the door camera.
“Are you fucking kidding me? Shit.” What the hell is she doing here?
I take a deep breath, double check that Taehyung is wearing pants, then fling the door open violently. 
“What do you want?” I ask coldly, eyeing the elegantly dressed woman before me as she scrutinizes my pajamas with her judgemental gaze. 
“Can’t a Mother visit her daughter without wanting something?” 
I hear the quiet gasp on the side of me as Taehyung learns the mystery woman’s identity. There’s a reason I don’t ever talk about her, even to Taehyung. 
I observe the painted and botoxed woman in disdain. 
“I hear that’s the done thing with normal family members, but I’m pretty sure that doesn’t describe you. I repeat, what do you want, Clara?”
“First names, darling? I didn’t realize we were so progressive. If you’ll step aside and let me in, I’m happy to discuss everything. I’d rather not wage war in the hallway, it’s rather tacky.” She pushed past me and stopped in the entryway, observing her surroundings. When her eyes found Taehyung smiling sheepishly to the side of me, her eyebrow cocked as she looked him over. 
“You have a plaything? You picked a handsome one. Hello there, Sweetheart.”  The flirty grin that she no doubt thought was irresistible filled you with disgust. 
“Fine. Mother dear, whatever are you doing here? Did you get dumped again by chance? Need money? Had some sixth sense that I was feeling Happy and decided to come fix that?” I sarcastically drawl, crossing my arms in front of my chest and stepping in front of Taehyung to block him from her view. 
My mother released a loud, exaggerated sigh, flapping her hand in the air. “Yes, Charles and I are getting a divorce. He knocked up his little mistress and decided to marry her. I’m going to stay with you until the house I made him give me is renovated. I always hated all the animal trophies everywhere.” She declares, setting her purse on the counter and setting up on a bar stool like she owned the place. 
“Mother, I really don’t think...” I began, only to be interrupted by the doorbell again. I watch in horror as Taehyung opens the door, as I already know it could just be one other person. 
“Good morning, my Goddess. Morning, Tae! I have some bags here if you wanted to help me with them. Just essential stuff, but the rest of my boxes will be delivered by the movers...oh, hello.” Jimin stops midway through his spiel when he finally set down the bags he was carrying and noticed my Mother. 
Her eagle eyes scoured him from head to toe and back before flicking my way, an almost evil grin appearing on her face. 
“My Goddess? Either you’re very close to your friends, or you have two playthings at once, my darling. I’m impressed.” 
“What I do or don’t do is none of your business. Please leave.” I manage to say as politely as possible, hoping that she would leave before she started a real fight or said something to the boys. 
“Fine, I just think it’s funny that all those years of you treating me like I was trash because I liked playing around, and now here you are with two at once. Hypocrite much, sweetheart?” 
“Get the fuck out of my house.” I grind out, retraining myself from physically throwing her out. 
“I’m going, there’s no need to be a bitch, darling. I can see you have a full house already. I’ll just put myself up in a nice hotel. Just don’t expect any money from what I get from Charles.” She spat as she grabbed her bag and made her way to the front door. 
“I never expect any money. I put myself through college. I paid for my own apartment, car, everything else in my life. I need nothing from you. Quit bothering me every time you get a divorce. Stay out of my life for the last fucking time.” I yelled as I slammed the door behind her. 
I lean my head against the door and listen to the sound of her heels stomping down the hallway and wait until I hear the elevator door open and close before I release my breath. 
A hand starts stroking my back, and I’m suddenly enveloped in Taehyung’s comforting presence as he back hugs me and props his chin on my shoulder. 
“So...that was your Mother.” He says, humor tinting his voice. 
Releasing a bitter laugh, I turn and bury my face in his chest. “Yup. That was Mother.” 
“Lovely woman.” Jimin snorts as he strolls forward and kisses the side of my neck and leans his head on mine. 
“Well, she was about two seconds away from deciding which of you she’d steal from me this time, so if you’re interested, she couldn’t have gotten far,” I mutter as I kiss Jimin and walk towards the kitchen to start my coffee. 
“Wait, this time?” Taehyung asks in disbelief as the boys set up on the counter. 
“Her last ex-husband was my boyfriend, once upon a time. She’d decided to stay with me while her divorce from the other one was getting finalized and managed to seduce him while I was working. I think she liked lording it over me a little too much since she managed to stay married to him for two whole years. A record.” 
“How many times has she been married?” Jimin asks, thanking you when you set some pastries down in front of them. 
“Oh, good question. Let's see, with this last one...six times? I think the only person she’s been with for an extended period of time was Dad. They were married for ten years before he passed away.” 
“How did that happen?” Taehyung asks softly, and I pour all of us coffee in silence for a minute as I reminisce. 
“Cancer. Cliche, right? He was a lawyer too, worked like crazy and still managed to make me feel like a princess, and treated my Mother well. Which is why I still hate her for what she did.” I clear my throat and stir my coffee, ugly memories of screaming matches and tears filling my mind. 
“She was cheating on him the whole time he was in the hospital with one of his firm’s hotshot associates. Worst still, my Father knew because someone else had told him about it. I hated seeing his sad, resigned face whenever she came in to play the loving wife role. I asked him about it once, and he said that while it made him sad, he understood since he wasn’t going to be around anymore. That she was a woman that needs a lot of love. I didn’t care. I thought, and still do, that it was disrespectful and just plain malicious to do that to someone that loved and cared for you for ten years. His last fucking memories on earth are of his wife cheating on him while he was lying there in pain and dying. Fuck her.” I choked back my angry tears, distracting myself with making myself eat. The boys each grabbed a hand and placed a kiss on the backs of them, the pity in their eyes making it hard for me to swallow as I struggled to contain myself. 
“I’m too sober for this,” I mumble, swirling my coffee before I take a sip. 
Jimin wraps himself around me, lips ghosting down my neck as he slides his hands under my shirt. His dick was hard and poking me in the back. Apparently, he thought he’d distract me or cheer me up a certain way, but I felt too guilty to let him touch me right now. 
“Anyway, I think I’m going to head into the office. I need to work on some stuff for next week, and then I’ll be worry free for the rest of the weekend.” I push myself away from the counter and hurry to get ready. I try not to notice the boys watching me flutter around the house with matching worried expressions. I just needed to get my head on straight, that’s all.
I kiss them both on the cheek on my way to the door. “Be sure to call me if you guys need anything. I’ll probably be awhile. Let me know what you guys want for dinner, and I’ll pick something up.” With a wave I shut the door behind me and head out, blocking their confused faces from my memory with the unwelcome thoughts swirling in my head. 
I throw my pen onto my desk and bury my face in my hands, groaning softly. Distracting yourself with work only works when it’s actually distracting. Writing letters and briefs, answering emails, all the dumb busy work that I usually saved until the last minute was not enough to clear my head. 
The same fucking thought kept harassing me ever since Mother left. I was just like her. I was sleeping around with two men at once. The fact that we all had genuine feelings involved felt more like an excuse than validation.
 My thumb caressed the picture the boys had sent me a couple of hours ago. The two of them had taken our dog Winston to the park and posed with him, the sun shining down and making them look like freaking angels with their happy smiles and good looks. They were all so cute and so sweet. What am I doing? She was right. I was a hypocrite. And the boys deserved so much more than the messed up person I am. They deserved the entire fucking world. It would be best for everyone if I let them go. I’m better off alone, really...
“I thought I was depressed, but you are actually in your office during the weekend, crying.” A soft voice interrupts my thoughts, and I look up in surprise to find Jungkook lounging in the chair in front of my desk. 
I reach up and wipe at my cheek, staring at the wet spot on my hand in shock as I see that I was actually crying. I hadn’t even noticed. 
“What’s the matter, Noona?” Jungkook laid his head on his arms, cocking it cutely as he leaned against my desk. The little shit pulled out the Noona card very rarely, usually saving it to get something he wants. He seemed to be using it now to get me to talk to him, which was adorable, I had to admit. 
“I just...” I clear my throat and try to summarize my fears into a tangible sentence, only to blurt out, “Jungkook, am I a whore?”
“What? What the hell would make you say that?” He sits up straight and practically glares at me, his bunny nose wrinkling in a way that usually would have made me laugh.
“What do you think? I’m literally living with two men. I can’t even remember the last time I went even a day without a single sexual act. I feel like I'm selfish and dirty.” I mumble as I push around my pen with a finger. 
“Are you saying I’m a whore then?” Jungkook asked wryly, and he cocked his eyebrow when you glanced up. 
“What? No, of course not.” I exclaimed, not sure why he would ask that. 
“Because you forget I’ve been in an open relationship with Jimin for years. I agreed to it in the first place because Jimin needs lots of love and attention, and frankly, I was exhausted on my own.” Jungkook laughs and ruffles his hair cutely.  
“Jimin, Tae, and I were together quite a lot. Jimin and I even got serious with Min Yoongi a few years back, and all three of us lived together. Yoongi had a girlfriend that would join in on occasion as well. I did the exact same thing as you, and then some. So why are you a whore and not me?” He leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms as he waited for me to collect my thoughts. I opened and closed my mouth several times, my mind coming up blank on why it was different. 
“There’s no reason to be ashamed for loving someone, Noona. Instead of focusing on what society thinks, focus on how you feel. I know that sex is only half of the equation, and that you all love each other. You’re all very easy to love.” Jungkooks says with a soft smile, a light blush tinting his cheeks. 
He walks around the desk and crouches down next to my chair, grabbing my hand and rubbing circles into the back of it with his thumb. 
“I was like this at first too, you know. I was already struggling with the taboo of just being with a guy in the first place, then one thing led to another, and Tae started getting added into the mix. I mean, you know how he is. He just kinda...makes everything perfect. Pulls everything together. I started out thinking everything was so wrong, and we were a bunch of perverts, but we all genuinely love each other, so how is that actually wrong? Love is love.” 
“If it was so perfect, why was Tae not officially your partner?” I ask, intrigued to hear things from his point of view. Taehyung talked about their past all of the time, but in his head, everything is common sense, and everyone should know, but I didn’t know specifics. 
“Ah, because there was one thing holding us all back. You. Taehyung has been so hung up on you for years, and he wanted to leave himself an open chance. We’ve suggested hinting things to you over the years since he wasn’t the only one attracted to you, but he didn’t want to scare you off. Now though...” His grip on my hand tightened, and I observed with interest as his eyes fell to my lips. 
He dropped my hand and smiled shyly as he stood back up and leaned his back against the desk. “Anyway, I’m getting ahead of myself. There’s still this arranged marriage business to take care of. Don’t mind me, I’m just...a little lonely.”
“You could always try to come by. Whoever your father has watching you couldn’t possibly know that Jimin lives with me now.” 
Jungkook shakes his head morosely, his shaggy bangs swaying cutely as he did so. “No. I don’t want to chance it. If we get caught even once, that’s Jimin’s entire future on the line. Besides, that message you sent the other day said you had a plan?” 
“Oh, yes, I do. I won’t go into it too much now but rest assured I will be your Knight in shining skirt suit.” I giggle, glad the mood in the room has lightened a bit. I feel a lot better because Jungkook is right. It’s love, and as long as we’re happy and not hurting anyone, it’s not wrong. 
“Thank you, Noona. Just do me a favor? Next time you feel this way, I want you to try something that helped me. I want you to think about all the things you’d miss if you broke up with them. Like Taehyung’s cuddles or Jimin’s singing in the shower, little things like that.” 
“Or Taehyung making me tea and serving it in a soup bowl.” 
“Yes, or Jimin’s juicy peach ass. God, I miss his ass.” Jungkook groaned dramatically, making me laugh. 
“Fuck, I would too.” I chuckle. I glance at my cell that was suddenly ringing, wiggling my eyebrows at Jungkook when I read the caller ID. Speak of the devil...
I set the phone in the middle of us and press speaker as I grin at Jungkook.
“Jimin honey, what’s up?” I ask, laughing internally as I can practically see him throwing a fit with all the frustrated sighs he’s making. 
“Y/N, when are you coming home? It’s my move-in night; I want to cuddle and watch this anime with you.” He whines, his manipulative little ass using his drunk Diminie aegyo voice. 
“I’m coming home now, baby. What do you want me to pick up for dinner?”
“Tae says junk food, so probably burgers and fries. And a milkshake.” 
“Ok, I’ll pick it up and come right home, alright?”
“Okay! Hurry! I miss you.” He was so fucking cute.
“Jungkook, say hi to Jimin,” I tell him softly, observing him as he clears his throat and nervously leans over the phone. 
“Hi, baby. Noona was sad today, so make sure you guys take good care of her.” 
“...okay, Kookie.” Came the soft reply, and I nodded at Jungkook encouragingly when he quickly looked at me in surprise, obviously not expecting Jimin to still want to use his nickname. I’ve not told Jimin the whole issue yet, but I had told him that Jungkook was trying to protect him from something and not to be sad. 
“I’m going to kiss Noona goodbye, is that alright?” Jungkook asked, smiling at my startled expression. 
“Yeah. She likes more lips than tongue.” He giggles. 
“Alright, love you, I’ll be home soon.” I rush out as I quickly end the call. I stand up and grab my bag and put on my jacket. Jungkook hasn’t moved yet, just watching me with amusement, his stupid bunny smirk wide. 
“Noooonaaa....” He quietly sing songs as he strolls towards me once I’ve reached the door. “This is just to say thank you. Thank you for taking care of Jimin, thank you for helping me. Thank you for being you.” He lays his hand on my shoulder lightly, his fingers stroking like he was trying to comfort me as he leans in. 
His lips softly press against mine, testing my reactions. When I didn’t hit him or freak out, he deepens the kiss, moaning softly into my mouth. When he pulls away, his eyes flutter open, and he smiles down at me. 
“Now go home and take care of our needy kitten.” He mutters as he ushers me out of my own office with a pat on my ass. I glare over my shoulder playfully and send him one last wave before I leave. 
603 notes · View notes
yuanfenbd-blog · 7 years ago
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YUANFEN FEST ROUND 1: REVEALS + FINAL NOTES
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The Baeksoo party has finally come to an end but don't you worry, the fun is not yet over because there are still lovely fics for you to catch up with and come back to :> That being said, we want to thank everyone from the bottom of our hearts for supporting us and participating in this fest, may you be a prompter, writer, or reader! This fest wouldn't have been possible in the first place if not for you. We would give the spotlight now to our writers as we unveil who they are but before anything else, here are some words from our mods:
MOD MOCHI
Somehow, It only feels like yesterday when two of my fellow Baeksooies came into my DMs and told me about the apparent lack of Baeksoo fics in the EXO ficdom. I vividly all the times we complained because we’re craving for more until finally, we decided to simply take a leap of faith and create our own Baeksoo-centric fic ourselves. It was the epitome of a “Fuck, I’ll do it myself” situation because we knew our complaints would reach nothing if we don’t do our part in helping resolve the situation.
A week after, we decided to meet up and discuss this concept further in person. Believe it or not, I actually made a presentation/pitch deck about the fest, featuring a complete list of our objectives, content execution, and promotional strategy. We wanted to treat it as a passion project, as our little baby we would nurture months later on because aside from bringing new Baeksoo fanworks, we wanted to help bring the ‘community’ together.
Fast-forward to six months later and here we are now. It hasn’t been an easy journey for anyone, but it’s what makes this whole thing worth it because despite the difficulties that came along the way, you guys stuck by our side ‘til the end. And for that, we couldn’t be any more thankful.
To our prompters: thank you for your creativity and enthusiasm in participating in this fest. You all gave our writers gems to work with; this fest wouldn’t have been able to move forward if not for your participation.
To our very talented writers: thank you so, so much for sharing your talents with all of us. We know writing fic isn’t that easy especially when you’re bounded by deadlines (+ real life responsibilities) but you guys pulled through and made it! I hope you are all as proud of your works as much as we are. It is very interesting to see Baeksoo and the extension of their dynamics through a different set of eyes in every fic that was submitted to this fest, but the feeling of joy that each one gives is all the same. Thank you for making us fall in love with this pairing a hundred times and more, all over again.
To our beta readers: thank you for your hard work too. I cannot stress enough how important it is to have a second set of eyes that could review your work for feedback. Thank you for working closely with our writers and holding their hand; I want you to know that you guys also play a very important role in the creative process of making a fic.
To our readers: may you spend the rest of the year getting good grades, having a fun time at work, and achieving all your personal goals because, at the end of the day, there’s more Baeksoo fics for you to enjoy and drown yourself with! Thank you for supporting us from the beginning ‘til the end, we hope you’d give our writers the love they deserve too by giving them feedback on their fics.
And lastly, to my co-mods: girlies, we did it! No tea, no shade, no pink lemonade — but you guys worked just as hard in making this fest possible! I want you both to know that I’m very proud and thankful for you two. Thank you for being so patient, friendly, and hardworking. I consider this fest as my passion project and it was a pleasure to be able to share this journey with you both.
MOD BREAD
Wow! Until now I am still amazed. We've been thirsty for almost two years for a new wave of Baeksoo-centric fics in our fandom so I am very happy that Yuanfen has been the answer to our pleas to end this drought. And now, we're almost drowning with great gems to read. Haha
To the readers,  you know we all living the good life and eating well. I hope you enjoyed all the fics you've read and gave them love. Thank you so much for  reading, giving kudos and comments to the fics and recommending them on your SNS. To the writers, the real mvps of this fest, You are fricking fantastic. This will never be a success without you guys who took their precious time making these wonderful fics to life! Istg I want to hug all of you, one by one. Thank you for sharing your talents in making the readers drown in feels. To my forever understanding co-mods (who almost did all the work), I sincerely apologize for not being that active in terms of  emailing and other stuff. I am so thankful that because of you guys, this fest has been a success and organized. Thank you so much and congratulations for a job well done! /hugs you both/ And to the banes of this fic fest's existence aka BAEKSOO (joke!), we did this all for you so we have many fics to reread again once you feel like  giving us another long term drought. But for now, we're eating good with all the interactions and feels you gave this 2017 .
MOD PEACH
Hi everyone!!! Finally we’re on the last phase of this round and I couldn’t express how grateful I am to all of you (prompters, writers, beta readers, readers) who participated in our fest *sobs*
Okay so, first off, I would like to thank the writers!! You guys are amazing. I remember the moment we received the first ever submitted fic (I’m usually in charge of email-ing you guys so haha) I teared up cos omg it’s happening and also it’s our first time mod-ing a fest so we’re really thrilled about it haha. Thank you so so so much for your dedication and effort in making this fest possible and we hope you guys will continue your passion in writing cos yall are really talented ;;
Next, the readers!! Thank you very much for hyping the fics and giving all the love it deserved and we hope you guys will read them all cos I swear they’re all so good I’ve already read most of them lol
And lastly, to my co-mods!! I’m sorry I keep on bugging you guys about everything I’m just so nervous I might have mistakes (which I already did fml) and thank you very much for all your hard works despite your crazy workloads!!! You guys are the best I hope we can still continue this in the future haha
We would also like to apologize for any confusion that we’ve made e.g., changing of deadlines without prior notice, and others. We have previously addressed this matter on our CC so we hope you guys understand it and we’ll try to meet all your expectations once we’ve decided to push our round 2 *winks*
So, anyway, that’s it!!! Thank you very much from the bottom of my heart to all of you who made this fest successful and we hope you guys will continue loving Baeksoo as much as we love them!!
♥*♡+:。.。      'ㅅ' ♡ ⊙♡⊙     。.。:+♡*♥
STATS
For this round, we garnered a total of  353 prompts (self-prompts excluded) and 44 fics written by 42 writers. Our average word count is 14, 762 words; meanwhile, our total word count is 645,556 words!
We were pleasantly surprised to find out that most of our writers wrote long fics. A special shout-out goes to UNCONQU3R3D and encoru for writing two fics each respectively; and to Bbaegi for submitting 76k worth of fic! Thank you so much!
And now, without further ado, here is our master list!
♥*♡+:。.。      'ㅅ' ♡ ⊙♡⊙     。.。:+♡*♥
♡ DAY 1 ♡
Red Sunset Glow by sehnsvcht
T | 35.7k
If someone had told Kyungsoo that all it takes to shut Baekhyun up—and, maybe, get over his fears—is one simple, one scary kiss, maybe he would have tried it sooner. Maybe.
Hop in, I can take you there (Follow the path to my heart) by kumo_is_kumo
E | 12.2k
Baekhyun, who doesn’t believe in love at the first sight, meets a cute guy called Kyungsoo while visiting his grandmother on the countryside and he thinks that Kyungsoo might be the one. The only obstacle is that Kyungsoo is a cucumber farmer.
Let Me Care, You Deserve So Much Better by Agrippa
M | 8.4k
What Kyungsoo sees in the newly acquainted Baekhyun is someone who deserves a lot more. Baekhyun doesn't see it himself, but Kyungsoo is about to change everything he's ever known.
(Oh!) I Can't Stop by X_yehet_pcy
E | 4.9k
Baekhyun and Kyungsoo are roommates, Baekhyun’s had a big secret crush on Kyungsoo since forever, Chanyeol and Jongdae are questionable friends. Well.
♡ DAY 2 ♡
I Could Be The One To Set You Free by vavole
M | 20.8k
(fake dating!au) Actor Do Kyungsoo thinks that he is too good at leaving love, but Idol Byun Baekhyun teaches him otherwise because loving someone can be simple.
a cataclysm of minor proportions by lady-serendipity (jezz)
M | 6.6k
Roommates!AU. Kyungsoo finds a kitty on the streets on his way home and brings it to their apartment to take care of it, but apparently Baekhyun is afraid of cats?
If You Like Me, Say You Like Me by fadetotomorrow
M | 3k
It shouldn't be so difficult for Baekhyun to figure out his Kyungsoo problem, not that he has one.
it don't run in our blood by marcel
M | 14k
When crown prince Kyungsoo learns he's been betrothed to someone since before he was born, he has a hard time trying to adjust to the idea before his fiancé arrives at the palace. It doesn't help that his husband-to-be defies all his expectations - but in the worst or best way?
♡ DAY 3 ♡
Revisions by Daphnean
E | 11.3k
It wasn’t as if liking Kyungsoo was a big secret; like it’d be out of character or weird for him. He was out and Professor Do was a fairly liked, and lusted after, instructor on campus. Still there was something unsettling to Baekhyun about making it concrete, even for a moment.
Limes and Coastlines by Yifanning (bambitae)
M | 28.3k
Answers submerge when you've faced the eye of the storm—thus, Kyungsoo stood on his toes, nearing the ledge, gazing into the dark, deep end. Close to pulling back, closer to falling in.
Love is Forever (Your Forever is All That I Need) by Bbaegi
T | 76.8k
"I’ve never felt forever when I kissed someone. Have you?" Baekhyun heard himself whisper, voice as gentle as the first notes of a lullaby meant to tame a child’s fear and lure them into a gentle slumber filled with nothing but sweet melodies to dance around with instead.
Winter Heat by UNCONQU3R3D
E | 23.5k
Kyungsoo and Baekhyun somehow, conveniently, get trapped together in a snowstorm and are forced to survive. Easier said than done since they can't stand each other.
♡ DAY 4 ♡
Engraved in Your Heart by UNCONQU3R3D
E | 28.2k
Highschool!AU where Baekhyun, high school bad boy and leader of a street gang, falls in love with a social outcast, the blind kid, Kyungsoo.
Be Careful What You Wish For by quebaek
M | 7.3k
Baekhyun didn't expect Yixing to suddenly go out of town and ask him to house sit. He also wasn't expecting to find and break a cool looking crystal orb in his attic. He especially wasn't expecting a man named Do Kyungsoo to appear of it and give him a hard time. That's for sure.
redamancy by anon_nim
M | 4.5k
Oddly, he feels like he’s on a ‘time out’, the kind that children get from their parents when they do something bad and have to reflect about it in the corner. Except, Baekhyun is a grown up man and Kyungsoo is supposed to be his bandmate-cum-boyfriend.
Pen Me Down by dosmilkshake
M | 7.7k
“I would rather kill a panda.” “You’re terrible. They are endangered!” “That should tell you much I hate the idea of kissing him then.”
♡ DAY 5 ♡
Penny for your Socks by crownjules
M | 5.2k
Baekhyun didn't expect his soulmate to be so unfashionable; Kyungsoo knew his was an asshole.
Another Dream Away by foxxlight
T | 15.9k
For years Baekhyun has dreamed of a dragon prince, living out his everyday life within the confines of the dragon realm. What he hadn't realized was that the dragon prince dreamed of him too.
he says hello when he leaves, goodbye when he arrives by london9calling
M | 10k
Who would have thought summoning a fifth level demon to win a singing contest could have such interesting consequences? Certainly not Byun Baekhyun.
Simmer, Sizzle, Savour by taegyungie
M | 8.7k
Kyungsoo just doesn't know what to do about his student from hell.
♡ DAY 6 ♡
Sick and Sweet by subduedblue
M | 2.3k
Kyungsoo gets sick on a Sunday and Baekhyun’s there to help him get well.
On top of the world, we are together by sunsethue
Not Rated | 5.9k
Everything is going right in Kyungsoo’s life. He never thought it can get even better, until Byun Baekhyun came along.
My One and Only by endboss
E | 19.8k
Hybrid!Baekhyun just loves his human so much, which is why he tries to be happy for Kyungsoo's relationships, even if they make his poor heart hurt so mysteriously much.
You and Me (Equals World War 3) by Junchenny
G | 14.3k
Baekhyun and Kyungsoo are rival singers, until their labels decide to debut them as a duo for a project. Cue pranks, awkward meetings and bickering galore. But in the end, could their shared passion for music and the fact that they may have more in common than they thought, be enough to overcome their rivalry?
♡ DAY 7 ♡
true blue by zannen
E | 25k
With things going sharply downhill at the newspaper, Kyungsoo has two options. One: He could lose his job and say goodbye to his journalistic career entirely. Two: He could do his best to ruin Byun Baekhyun's reputation. The choice, in his opinion, is obvious. Or he thought it was, at least.
Trouble at the Sandbox by SmilingTeresa
G | 23.7k
Kyungsoo didn't plan on going to the park. He also didn't plan on meeting Baekhyun.
The Janitor's Closet by kissmebaek
M | 3.2k
“Hey fat ass, do you really have to block the hall?”
“I’m not sure if that’s my problem when there’s enough to go around.”
“Pfft! Says the guy who can’t even hit a basic falsetto note!”
“That literally has nothing to do with this conversation and at least I can sing!”
Jongdae sighs as he closes his locker. Kyungsoo and Baekhyun throwing argument after argument at each other.
“They have to be fucking.” He says. “There’s no way two people that are always this irritated with each other but always together aren’t fucking.”
Chanyeol let’s out a laugh. “No way.” He looks down at Jongdae who looks up at seriously. His face falls. “No way!”
Soul Ink by jkl-401
M | 26.6k
Baekhyun’s favourite past time is to pretend to work whilst day dreaming about the new tattoo artist.
♡ DAY 8 ♡
The power of a crush by lispkid
M | 2k
Kyungsoo gets crushed.
Stay By My Side by heartshapedlips
Baekhyun didn't want a bodyguard but Kyungsoo showed up to work anyway. Maybe he doesn't mind it as much as he thinks.
hear my story, set me free by wisteries
M | 9.4k
Kyungsoo just wants to get the job done and go home to his dog, but Baekhyun has other plans. Alternatively, where Baekhyun and Kyungsoo pry open each others' hearts and lay their stories out for display.
Drifting Lights by baekdsooshi
M | 10.6k
Librarian Do Kyungsoo and intern Yixing have gotten quite a number of complaints of damaged books. After a bit of detective work, they found one common clue - they’re all missing page 241.
♡ DAY 9 ♡
Breath of the Forest by cabbages
G | 12.3k
Baekhyun wants to explore the forbidden forest on the edge of town. He leaves Kyungsoo and enters the woods by himself, forcing Kyungsoo to run after him before he gets hurt or in trouble. The only problem: Kyungsoo has asthma.
Tug of War by yibaek
E | 30.2k
Baekhyun feeds off of affection... literally. Without affection and love, he will wither away. Enter Kyungsoo, the last man Baekhyun should fall for, the man that drains the life from everyone he touches.
Words of Fate by babychocosoo
G | 3.5k
How is Kyungsoo supposed to find his soulmate when his only clue to lead him to them is the word written on his wrist that no one could understand?
say you won't let go by encoru
E | 3.4k
“What’s the safety word?” Kyungsoo asks. “Dracarys,” Baekhyun replies.
♡ DAY 10 ♡
As Easy as Breathing (In, Out, In, Out, In Out) by reihino
M | 39.9k
Falling in love with Baekhyun was just like breathing - easy, natural. It was everything else that was hard. (A Howl's Moving Castle AU)
Did someone say cute? by mochified
M | 2.4k
Baekhyun is crazy for cute things, and Kyungsoo is super cute. He falls head over heels, low-key obsessed and melting inside whenever Kyungsoo does something especially adorable. Kyungsoo refuses to believe he's cute though.
leave me breathless by encoru
M | 8.4k
If Baekhyun had the chance to call the police on someone so handsome he knocks the air out of his lungs, the perfect time would be now.
kissing the devil by taeyeons
M | 10.1k
A cry rings in his ears and all Baekhyun's struck by is the familiarity.
♡ DAY 11 ♡
Count On Me by ambrosiaplease
M | 8k
Kyungsoo happened to discover not the El Dorado but a key to deepen his connection with Baekhyun through the latter's secret tumblr dashboard.
under the same sky by kynqso
G | 21.9k
It's what Baekhyun liked to call their story: a love that transcended the summer. Includes but is not limited to: lunchboxes, Thursdays, a wall painting, postcards, and sunrises and sunsets.
Kiss Me, Tell Me by cheesenim
T | 9.2k
Kyungsoo never expected to have his ass dragged on a challenge. He had no idea what to do next.
good to love by kozens
E | 24.8k
Between Beijing and Tokyo, Kyungsoo finds a stranger, and perhaps so much more.
♥*♡+:。.。      'ㅅ' ♡ ⊙♡⊙     。.。:+♡*♥
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potatoegirlart · 7 years ago
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Peaches
Rating: Pg
Summary: A short story about the birth of Yukimura’s child.
A/n: Legit found this while spring cleaning my computer. Did some editing to make it a bit better, and I’m pleased with the results.On that note, it’s my first time writing something that isn’t oc centric, and I really hope I did Yukimura’ right! ^^; Please, enjoy~!
Peaches
When Yukimura found out that his wife was going to have their child, words couldn’t express the joy and happiness he felt. First, she agreed to be his, and only his, forever, and had given herself over to him in every way a woman could give herself over to a man. Then, she had carried their child.
“Pr… Pregnant?” He told her slowly when she said told him the news in private as she laid beside him.”Ho…How?” He questioned, not knowing what else to say. She laughed, shaking her head.
“I think you and I both know how and when.” She teased, making him blush, but he still stood still.
Frozen as he stared at her, unable to comprehend what she told him just yet. She began to worry when he didn’t react right away, as he would under any other circumstance.. She touched his shoulder gently. When that didn’t do anything, she teased him slightly with a little laugh.
”Yukimura? Should I call for Saizo or someone? You’re not gonna die on me are you? Yukimura?” She looked at him as he slowly looked from her stomach to her beautiful eyes.
But he could hardly hear her.
Something was created out of their love, their passion, their dedication, to one another. She would nurture it inside her body for almost a year. Go through so many changes,and then go through hours of painful, dangerous labor. She was willing to do this to bring their child to life. So many questions, doubts, happiness, and so many other things ran through him at once that it was hard to process it all in one sitting. If he didn’t love her so wholly and completely before(Which would have been impossible for him), he loved her even more.
“Yukimura?” Ah. Her voice rang in clearly once he came back in focus.
When that happened, he looked at her. Looked at her with such a serious expression, that she was taken off guard. She blushed slightly, and looked away. Yukimura couldn’t hold back as he pulled her into a gentle, to avoid harming the unborn child, but very firm embrace.
“Thank you..” He told her once he got over the initial shock, holding her ever so tighter, or so it seemed. She blushed, but returned the hug just as tightly.
“Didn’t I tell you that I was willing to become carry a child at any moment… As long as it was yours?” She whispered into his chest. His eyes widened before he settled into a small smile, hugging her softly.
“I know, but still thank you.” He whispered to her, kissing the top of her hair. She smiled into his chest.
~.~.~
Still, he wanted to feel more useful in this pregnancy. He wanted to take the stress off of her as much as he could, and make things easier for her. SO, he often worked twice as hard.
He thought that because she was going through all the changes, to bring their child to life, he thought he could ease what she had to do.
“If you feel tired. Rest. Don't push yourself too hard, alright?” He would tell her with a gentle smile, touching her cheek in reassurance. She just smiled at him in turn, touching his hand.
“Don’t worry. I’m fine.” She would often time try to reassure him.
It didn’t stop him from worrying, and would often times take her tasks on for her so she could rest. It mostly stemmed from his fear about losing her the same way he had lost his mother. She had become weak after giving birth to him, and died as a result of a sickness that she was too weak to fight off soon after Yukimura was born. He didn’t know what he would do without her in his life.
Besides, she found his fussing too adorable to possibly stop it.
“It’s kind of adorable.” She told Saizo on a day she was made to rest. She found refugee under a tree where Saizo just happened to show up.
“You’re not annoyed?” He questioned. She smiled softly, and shook her head.
“He does it with such earnestly. It’s hard to deny him.” She replied. Saizo smirked.
“It’s obvious.” He said teasingly, looking down at her still flat stomach.
She blushed heavily, looking away with a slight scowl. Saizo only laughed, ruffling her dark hair. She smiled, knowing he was only teasing.
Even if she didn’t understand the reasoning behind Yukimura being so helpful, and looking out for her comfort, she still found it stifling, but like she told Saizo, she couldn’t just deny him outright every time when it was coming from a good, and earnest place. It was touching. Besides, she knew that even she tried, he would still do it regardless. So, she took that rare time to relax.
~.~.~.~.~.~
It was when she started to show more and more that Yukimura got more protective.
“You shouldn’t carry that much weight, or pointy, in your condition. Let me help you.” She was just trying to carry a small box, not even filled with anything heavy, to the storage room.
As much as she enjoyed his pampering, her moods struck again. She was doing fine. No mood swings. Just horrible morning sickness all the time, which also worried Yukimura when he witnessed it. When that passed at the fourth month, her mood swings kicked in.
Normally, she would have enjoyed, and humored Yukimura’s pampering, but something bristled in her at that moment.
“Yukimura, I’m fine.” She tried really hard to keep her irritation out of her voice, but Yukimura still picked up on it as he paused, looking at her in worry.
“Are you sure? You don’t need help or anything?” He questioned, stopping to give her some space. He was happy to see that she stopped as well just a few feet ahead of him.
He could hear the clipped tone, and briefly worried he had done something to anger her. He didn’t know what, though. He was only trying to help, but if he had upset her he wanted to fix it.
“I’m prengate, Yukimura, not helpless.” She replied, before walking forward.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
“Ahaha! Don’t worry, Yukimura! She's just getting moody. I’m sure it’s nothing against you.”
“Though you have been hovering over her, Yukimura dear. Maybe she feels stifled.”
“Or that. Just don’t worry too much. She's very strong. Women are much stronger than we give them credit for. They go through that stuff so that there’s life. Just relax, and trust her if she says she’s fine.”
Yukimura knew that Shingen and Saizo were, in their own ways, trying to ease his worries, and it helped a little bit. Still, he wanted to make sure she was absolutely comfortable at all times. Shingen even helped where he could. Mostly by easing her duties, and then telling to just relax when the end of her pregnancy came.
“Yukimura is a worried mess. So, just relax,alright?” Shingen told her. She smiled, nodding.
“Right. I will.”
“Care for yourself first, and us second. The health of the child is what is most important to us, alright?” He told her. She just smiled, nodding as she put a hand on her bulging stomach, and walked away.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
It was a bright, sunny day. Yukimura and his wife were sitting out on the veranda overlooking the pond and garden. It was a really beautiful day, and since Shingen had stopped most of her duties so that Yukimura wouldn’t worry too much over the health of his pregnant wife, she really had time to enjoy this. Her head rested against Yukimura’s shoulders, his arms wrapped around her slim frame while she had her arms around her bulging stomach. Not much was being said, but both were enjoying the day.
“What are you hoping for?” She asked suddenly, looking up at him. Yukimura looked at her, surprised by the question. It wasn’t something he had really thought about.
“It doesn’t matter to me.” He said simply, kissing the top of her head. She smiled, looking down at her stomach.
“I feel like it’s going to be a boy.” She said simply, rubbing her stomach. Yukimura once again looked at her in surprise.
“What makes you so sure?” He questioned. She looked up at him, shrugged, and then looked back at her stomach.
“I’m not, but I sometimes dream about a little boy.” She answered. Yukimura smiled, nodding as he held her a bit tighter.
“A little boy wouldn’t be so bad.” He said simply, making her his wife giggle slightly.
“Easier for you to handle?” She questioned, making him blush, and scowl slightly as he looked off, seemingly embarrassed. She just laughed again, shaking her head. She was surprised when, seemingly out of nowhere, Yukimura had placed his hand on her stomach. She smiled, holding the hand lightly.
It was at that moment that she felt a small, but firm fluttering in her stomach, right where Yukimura’s hand was. In surprise, he looked at her, and she straightened out.
“That was the first time it moved.” She whispered, smiling widely, and feeling tears prick at the edges of her eyes.
“The… First time?” Yukimura questioned. She looked at him, smiling as she nodded.
“Yeah. Seems like it was saying hello to his father.” She joked, giggling slightly. Yukimura’s initial surprise melted away as he relaxed, smiling gently.
“Well… Hello.” He said, looking at her stomach.
For the first time, he felt like there was something, a soon to be born baby, truly growing in her belly. What’s more? It felt strong, and healthy, which relieved some stress. It would be healthy, and strong, just like he would hope. Somehow, feeling it move, made it all the more real, and he couldn’t have been more happier.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
She went through painful and long hours of birth. Yukimura paced outside the halls, looking every now and again towards the doors where his wife was going through labor. Shingen and Saizo, as well as his father and brother were there as well.
“You’re gonna wear a hole straight through the floor with all the pacing.” Shingen teased, making Yukimura pause slightly.
“Shouldn’t she be done by now? It’s been a long time.” He said simply, hearing her call out again. He wanted to burst into that room, and try his best to ease her pains, but stopped himself.
“I’m sure she feels just as strongly as you do about that, but just relax. Worrying isn’t going to help anything.” Nobuyuki chided softly, glancing at the door once more before glancing at his brother, who sighed as he sat on the floor by the wall, his eyes focused on the door.
“Women are much stronger than us men give them credit for. Just relax.” His father clasped Yukimura’s shoulder. Yukimura glanced at his father, nodding slightly before looking at the door once more.
~.~.~.~.~.~
Yukimura tried his best not to worry. He really did, but he still couldn’t stop himself from worrying as the hours went on.
When a baby was ready to be born, shouldn’t they just come out immediately?
Was something he often thought.
But, just as dusk began to fall, there was a final scream, a slightly silence for just a second, and then a sharp cry was heard coming from the room. Yukimura paused for just a moment, his senses almost sharpened immediately as he jumped to his feet. He almost strode right in, but his father had stopped him.
“Give them a moment to clean things up.” He said simply.
Yukimura nodded, but patience had never been his strongest point. It felt as though the seconds that passed felt like hours to him. He was antsy.
“You should clam down, Dear, before entering.” Saizo told him. Yukimura hardly paid attention to him, waiting for the nursemaid to finally tell him it was alright to come and see his wife and child.
“You can come in now.” The old woman told him with a slight smile.
Yukimura hardly gave it a moment’s pause, smiling broadly as he burst into the room, looking around for his wife. It only took him seconds to find her, sitting on what looked new bed linings, sweat clinging all over her body as s nursemaid helped steady herself as she sat up. Her dark eyes looked tired, but managed to have a look of utter love as she the small bundle in her hands.
“Yukimura.” His wife smiled at him, and then looked back at the bundle in her hands.
Yukimura paused, feeling suddenly tense, but then crouched down beside her, arms around her shoulders, and then looked down at the small bundle in her arms.
She was unexpectedly… Small. Yukimura wasn’t sure what exactly he expected the baby to look like, but he never would have thought that it would look this small, and fragile. He was almost afraid to touch his own child out of fear of hurting it.
“A girl?” He heard his father say, which seemed to bring Yukimura out of his own thoughts.
He blinked, looking around him. He hadn’t realized that as he got lost in his own thoughts, everyone else had already filed in.
“Hmm, she looks just like you.” Shingen said with a broad smile. Yukimura looked down at his daughter, taking her in for the first time.
Just as Shingen had said, Yukimura’s child looked exactly like him. Bright blue eyes, puffs of the same dark grey hair seemed to stick out at angels all over her head.
“Why don’t you hold her?” His wife offered, holding the child out to him slightly. He stiffened, looking down at his child who seemed to fuss slightly.”You won’t hurt her. It’ll be ok.” She said with an amused smile, trying to reassure her husband.
With some help, Yukimura quickly got the hang of properly holding the squirming child. He still didn’t relax. He was holding her stiffly. Carefully. Trying not to do anything to harm the tiny child in his arms. After all, she was so tiny and fragile looking, he didn’t want to accidentally hurt the baby.
“She’s adorable, isn’t she?” His wife said after a few moments of silence. Yukimura could only nod slightly.
Yukimura wasn’t sure what he felt, looking at his daughter. There was so many thought rolling around in his mind, it was hard to get them all in order.
His daughter’s eyes looked around her, as if trying to take everything in at once, trying to understand her new environment. She was so small, so fragile looking, Yukimura couldn’t help but to wonder how she would make it in this world. He would teach her to be strong, to handle herself, he knew that much. She squirmed so much, Yukimura had to readjust how he held out her just so that he wouldn’t drop her by accident. It was almost amusing in a way.
“She’s so small, and round, and pink…. Like a peach.” Yukimura said absentmindedly, touching his daughter’s face with a gentle finger.
“Like a peach?” His wife said in amusement. It was just like Yukimura to make a comment like that. After all, he had once compared her skin to mochi.
“So, what do we name her?”
“Momoko.” His wife answered. Yukimura looked up, and looked around. He realized, with slight embarrassment, that his wife had just given the name of their child for the record.”What do you think Yukimura?” She asked, looking at him with a smile, which he returned.
“Sounds perfect.”
“Well, now that is in order, how about you let some of us hold her, hmm?” Shingen teased. Yukimura smiled slightly nodding as he watched the others handle the child with care, making jokes or playing.
“She’s already so loved.” His wife said, smiling proudly. Yukimura looked at her, nodding as he bent down, and kissed the top of her head.
“You should rest.” He said simply. His wife nodded, already ahead of him as she closed her eyes, resting her head against his hips with a smile as she drifted off.
Yukimura smiled as his daughter was passed back to him. He held her more surely in his hands, and then looked at his wife.
Thank you for this gift.
He thought, laying his sleeping daughter next to his wife.
I will protect you both.
He swore, kissing the tops of their heads, smiling as the others filed out.
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builder051 · 7 years ago
Text
Mike & Co Introductory Story (OC sickfic)
Alright, here’s the intro story for Mike, Jason, and Colby (well, it’s a story about Mike, with cameos from Jason and Colby).  It’s the only story I have planned for them so far, so once you read this, feel free to send requests for any/all of these guys.
Trigger warnings: a little bit of eating disorder thought process, but no descriptions of ED behaviors.  Also a little disrespect for the field of ED therapy.  I don’t hate all therapy.  I’ve just had a bad experience with that kind of therapy.
Mike sits heavily down on the picnic bench and unzips her blue insulated lunchbox.  She has no idea what to expect; Colby had shuffled around the kitchen and then thrown the thing at her after she’d threatened to leave without it.  The others around the table—Mike isn’t sure how to think of them.  Clients?  Patients?  Other among the sick, weak, and damned?—sheepishly unload their packed dinners and surreptitiously glance around at what everyone else is either trying or pretending to eat tonight.
Mike joins in and dumps out a host of ominously heavy items.  There’s a Tupperware of something salad-looking, a glass bottle of kombucha, a baggie of brownish clusters resembling granola cereal, a peach, and a banana bread muffin wrapped in a paper towel.  She organizes the individual parts of her meal across her placemat and realizes with a pang of guilt that it’s probably what Colby intended to eat for tomorrow’s lunch.  Now wasted on her.  Mike’s even less inclined to tuck in.
She gets up from the table both to buy a little time and search down some flatware since Colby neglected to give her any.  The journey across the covered patio and into the home-style kitchen is quick, but conspicuous.  Mike’s barely back in her seat when one of the nutritionists, Krista, brightly asks, “What’cha got there, Michaela?  Looks different from your usual.”
Mike shrugs.  She pulls the top off the Tupperware and reveals a mess of greens topped with what looks like a whole avocado and two or three fistfuls of sunflower seeds. Although she knows the monounsaturated fats in the dish are actually quite beneficial to her overall health, the sheer number of calories within the clear plastic dish seems staggering.  But then again, it was meant for a 6’2” teenaged man.  Not for her.
Krista won’t stop looking at her, so Mike digs her plastic fork into the center of the salad and jams a wad of veg into her mouth.  She takes her time chewing, tasting the bitter greens and creamy avocado and nutty sweetness of the seeds.  She thinks for a second that she understands why Colby prefers these kinds of meals.  It tastes a hell of a lot better than the false chemical sweetness of, say, pop tarts.  But that fucking fat content…
When the allotted dinner hour is up, Mike waits in line.  The mandatory after-dinner private conference with Krista or Deb or one of the other heartless fools who run the outpatient therapy program has to be the worst part of the 4-hour-a-day, 3-day-a-week torture.  A degree in nutrition or psychology isn’t enough to give anyone the right to glance across a table and decide whether an independent, free thinking person should be forced to consume even more calories of dairy-based high-sugar “nutritional” drink.
Mike plays with the zipper on her lunchbox, hoping she won’t have to open it and talk through its remaining contents.  She’d made a decent attempt on everything, but finished nothing.  But she feels full.  She almost feels overfull.  Mike wishes she could go to the bathroom.  She’s learned by now that when the digestive system’s been underused or forced to work in reverse for an extended period of time, it goes into the mode of something like a tiny, sick kitten.  Indigestion just follows eating, and sometimes going to sit on the toilet or just stand around in the bathroom— and decidedly not purge—are necessary measures to deal with impending stomach pains.  But that’s not allowed in the fucking therapy program.  Apparently letting grown adults use the toilet on their own whims is too much of a risk.  So it leaves Mike feeling like, well, like shit.  
“Michaela, you’re up.”  Deb lets the previous girl out of her office and beckons to Mike.
Mike tries not to roll her eyes as she steps into the overly cheerful office with its yellow walls and daisy-centric décor.  Deb is decidedly Mike’s least favorite staff member, and unfortunately, she’s the highest ranking.  She’s a businesswoman, owns the therapy program, and despite not having the proper credentials, gets to tell everyone else what to do and where to go.
“Alright, what did we have tonight?”  Deb’s supremely annoying in way she addresses Mike in the plural.  Like she’s a pair of twin toddlers or something.  “I think I saw some salad across the dinner table.  You know that’s not part of your nutrition plan.”
Ah, yes, the nutrition plan, Mike thinks.  The fucking spreadsheet that seems to place human beings as creatures that consume only macronutrients.  “It wasn’t really a salad.  It was a lot of nuts and avocado,” Mike defends.
“That’s still deficient in protein and carbs,” Deb says back with an overbearing, almost sarcastic patience.
“Plus fruit.  And cereal.  And banana bread,” Mike lists monotonously.
“Nutritionally, that’s not enough.”  Deb scratches her flower-topped pen across a notepad, probably writing something scathing for Mike’s file.
“It was my brother’s boyfriend’s packed lunch,” Mike says, letting her forehead wrinkle into her expression of distaste.  “Some people have a muffin or a cup of cereal for their whole meal.”
“You need to stick to your nutrition plan to normalize your eating habits.”
“Normal people eat what I ate.”  Mike crosses her arms.  Colby probably won’t appreciate being glumped together with everyone else on the planet, but to Mike, his calmness and ability to go with the flow places him distinctly opposed to her on the scale of anxiety.  He’s as decidedly normal as Mike’s not.
“Michaela, I know you don’t like to hear this,” Deb says with a sigh.  She opens the mini fridge behind her desk and pulls out a bottle of nutrition shake.  “A muffin or a cup of cereal isn’t enough to keep a person going.  We need to focus on eating the right things in the right quantity to actually meet your needs.”
“So you’re saying everyone is nutritionally deficient?” Mike snaps.
Deb uncaps the shake and pours out 8 ounces into a marked glass.  She pushes it across the desk toward Mike.  “Here.”
“Can you answer my question?”
“Please drink it,” Deb says, false patience thick in her voice.
“Fucking answer it.”
“Michaela.”
Mike’s stomach cramps a little under her folded arms.  “No, I…it makes my stomach hurt.  My stomach already hurts.”
“Your parents enrolled you in this program because they want to help you get better,” Deb says.  “You owe it to them, and you owe it to yourself.  Let’s lose the excuses.”
Mike tentatively wraps her hand around the glass, trying to crush it with her minimal grip strength.  She almost laughs and shakes her head.  “No, my parents enrolled me because they couldn’t be bothered to drive 2 hours out of the way to come visit, and they didn’t want to impose on my hardworking brother and ask him to babysit me.”
“That’s not true.  Your parents are very caring people.”
“You’ve never met my parents.  Just talked to them on the phone,” Mike snorts.
“Do you want to drink that and get back to the group session?” Deb asks, the false cheerfulness starting to wane.
“You wanna answer my question?” Mike reminds her.
“Michaela,” Deb says firmly.  It’s that tone of voice, the kind that clearly betrays a desire for the other person to submit and obey because it’s somehow the right thing to do.  It’s the way Mike’s mother speaks to her.  The way teachers talk to students, the way people order around their dogs and horses when they’re forcing them to do something.
Mike lifts the glass.  She’s already nauseated before it’s to her lips.  She manages to chug down a sip of the blatantly artificial tasting vanilla beverage before everything comes screeching to a halt.  Mike presses her sleeve to her mouth to keep from belching the milky fluid back up.  She’s 20 years old.  She doesn’t have to be here.  Her parents will only lose money if she leaves.  “I can’t,” she chokes out.
“You need to finish that.”  Deb says it firmly, but then her saccharine smile is back.  “You don’t have to take it all at once.  I can get you some water.  We can stay in here for a while.”
“No.”  Mike gets on her feet.  “No.  I can’t do this anymore.  Any of this.”  She swallows the sour-tinged vanilla taste at the back of her throat.  Her fist closes around the strap of her lunchbox.  Mike towers over Deb, who’s still seated behind the desk.  “You’re a liar and a fraud.  You are the opposite of helpful.  Fuck you.”  She’s shaking with combined lightheadedness and anger.
“Michaela—”
Mike doesn’t hear her finish.  She’s already out of the office and down the hall.
Her car’s parked on the street half a block down from the therapy program’s house-like building.  Mike jumps in it and starts low-key speeding down the street before she realizes she’s about to fall apart.  She just had a confrontation with someone.  She cussed someone out.  She was a total dick to Deb and that feels…amazing?
Mike’s hands are shaking and sweat-slick on the steering wheel.  Her heart feels like it’s about to beat out of her chest.  There’s a throbby ache behind her forehead that’s starting to push her vision into sparkles around the sides.  She needs to calm down.  She needs to breathe.
It’s a 15-minute drive back to the apartment.  Mike’s stomach twists, sending a tendril of hot nausea up her back to erupt in prickles around her neck and jawline.  She has to make it home.
But her breath’s not coming evenly.  Each choppy inhale is shorter than the last, and after a few moments she’s almost gasping.  Mike rolls down the window to invite the fall breeze into her Rav-4.  When she looks up to the view through the windshield, her eyeballs feel foggy.  There’s a siren behind her, and it sends disorienting flashes of red and blue into the car.  Mike tries to pull over, but before she’s sure what’s happened, she’s sideswiped a half-dozen orange barrels and jammed her tire into the curb.
Mike lowers her forehead to the steering wheel, trying to comprehend what she’s gotten herself into while also swallowing the urge to be sick.
“Hello ma’am.  Have you had anything to drink this evening?”  The officer’s standing beside the already-open driver-side window.
“No, I…” Mike says.  There’s entirely too much spit in her mouth.  The still-flashing police lights are giving a strobe effect that isn’t helping with her ability to ground herself in time and space.  She swallows thickly.  “I just—”  The words are lost in a gag that Mike tries to obscure with a hand clapped over her mouth.
“Ma’am?”  The officer yanks the car door open and frees Mike from her seatbelt so she can lean out.  Mike retches, and a spray of whitish fluid hits the asphalt.
“Oh fuck,” Mike chokes.  “I’m sorry.”  She heaves again and brings up more.
“Ok, breathe.  Try to calm down,” the officer instructs.  “You ok?  Just not feeling so hot?”
Mike takes a hitchy breath.  “God.  Yeah, I—” another heave forces its way up her throat, and a weak stream of bile leaves her coughing.
“Alright,” the cop says.
“’M not drunk,” Mike mumbles when she finally has enough breath.
“Yeah, I know.  You don’t smell like alcohol.”  The officer scratches his head.  “You seem pretty sick.  Do you think you need to go to the hospital?”
“No,” Mike whispers.  “I’m ok.”
“You sure you don’t need medical attention?”
“Yeah.”  Mike coughs and wipes her mouth on her sleeve.  “I just…need to go home.”
“I don’t think you should drive right now,” the officer says.
“Huh?”
“I don’t think you hurt your car or anything, but you’re not in good shape to operate your vehicle.”
Oh.  Yeah.  The construction barrels.  It already feels like ages ago.
“Do you have someone to call?” The officer asks.  “I could give you a ride home, but we’d have to tow your car.”
“I don’t know…”  Just the thought of asking for help is turning her stomach again.
“Or I could call paramedics.”
“God, no,” Mike murmurs.    “I, uh, I can call my brother…”  It’s about the last thing Mike wants to do.  She digs her phone out of her back pocket and stares at the lock screen for a moment before clicking back into action.  She fumbles her trembling fingers and selects the contact for Jason.  She lets out an anticipatory sigh as she holds the phone to her ear and listens to it start to ring.
“Yo,” Jason’s deep voice answers.
Mike clears her throat.  “I, uh…”  How is she going to explain this?
“You’re supposed to be in your group until 8, right?” Jason asks.
“Um, I, uh, had to leave,” Mike explains.  She’ll tell him about walking out later.  Maybe.  “I started feeling really sick, and I, uh, started driving home, but…Can you come get me?”  Her heart is a stone plummeting down through her body into the car seat.
“What?”
“I got pulled over.”  The admission’s bringing back the prickly nausea.  “I got sick.”
“Why?”  Jason sounds tired.
“I don’t know.  I was swerving or something.”
“No, Mike.  Geez.  Why?”  He’s not asking why she got pulled over.  It’s another thing Mike’s learned the hard way.  Once someone learns that she has one of those eating disorders, it’s like she’s not allowed to be sick for any other reason.
“I—It wasn’t on purpose.  I’m fine.  I just got nauseous.  I’m fine.  I…” Mike’s about to gag.  “Will you and Colby come get me so the cops don’t tow my fucking car?”  She holds the speaker into her chest while she leans over to let out a wet, belchy cough that doesn’t bring up anything.  She’s almost glad her body’s deciding to rebel so she has something to focus on besides the shame of being week and needy.
Jason’s mid-sentence when she gets the phone back to her ear.  “…on our way.  Just, like, chill for a little bit.  You’re probably all wound up.”
“Thanks,” Mike mutters.  She hangs up, then leans back in the seat and closes her eyes.
“You’ve got him on the way?” the cop asks.
Mike nods.  She realizes she stupidly didn’t tell Jason where she is, but she assumes he’ll just start driving toward the therapy center and find her pretty quickly.
She sits in awkward silence with the cop leaning against the car frame for a while.  He asks once or twice if she’s ok, but stays mercifully quiet when Mike just nods and slumps sideways into the velour seat.  Eventually she recognizes Jason’s black sedan as it pulls into a parking lot across the street.  He jumps out, all pale legs in seasonally inappropriate basketball shorts, and dashes across the deserted road.  Colby’s on his heels, looking like an overgrown loyal dog.
“Hey, thanks for looking out for her,” Jason says to the officer.  He looks at Mike, and she can almost see his hardheartedness melting away.  She must have no color.
“Alright, you look like trash,” Jason says by way of greeting.  “I’ll get you home.”
The officer wishes them well and takes his leave.  Mike feels like she can finally think a little once the flashing lights are out of her visual field.
“You wanna jump in the other side?”  Jason asks, gesturing for Mike to vacate the driver’s seat.
She steps down unsteadily, avoiding the splash of vomit just outside the door.  She doesn’t look forward to being stuck in the car with her brother.  Mike can practically see Jason’s thought bubble.  He’ll ask a lot of questions.  Want to know what happened.  Mike’s having a hard enough time reconciling it for herself, and she doesn’t anticipate her brother having a great understanding of the way certain foods and emotions tend to turn her sensitive stomach.
“You know, why don’t I drive this one?” Colby offers as Jason’s about to hop into the seat Mike just left.  “You’re car’s too small for long legs.”  It’s not a great excuse since Colby only has a couple inches on Jason.  He meets eyes with Mike and raises his blonde eyebrows.
“Yeah, sure,” Jason sighs.  There’s no way he doesn’t know what’s up, but he has the grace to pretend to be oblivious.  “See you back home.”  He crosses back to his own car.
Colby deftly climbs into the Rav-4.  “You know he’s pissed cause he cares,” he says to Mike, who has her temple pressed against the passenger window.
“Yeah,” she says.  “Just…feel like I’ve been hearing that a lot lately.”
“I’ll save the lecture, huh?”
“Yeah,” Mike repeats.
Colby stays silent for a while.  Then he asks, “Was it the food I packed?  That made you not feel good?”
“I don’t think so,” Mike murmurs.  “I think it was probably…a lot of stuff.”
“Ok.”  Colby knows not to press.  He turns into the parking lot of their apartment complex.
As they’re gliding into a spot, Mike bluntly asks, “Why’d you care about me?”
“Cause you deserve to be cared about?”  It’s less a question than a statement of duh.  “I know you don’t always think so, but it’s true.”
“Huh.”
Colby puts the car in park and removes the keys from the ignition.  “So, if you’re not opposed to my cooking, you wanna maybe join us for breakfast in the morning?  I’ve convinced Jason to let me make him something other than pop tarts.”
“I’ll, uh, I’ll think about it,” Mike says.  It’s too early to tell how she’ll be feeling in the morning.  But she really does intend to think about it.
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fashiontrendin-blog · 7 years ago
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We Need To Talk About Armie Hammer's Bonkers Billy Graham Movie
https://fashion-trendin.com/we-need-to-talk-about-armie-hammers-bonkers-billy-graham-movie/
We Need To Talk About Armie Hammer's Bonkers Billy Graham Movie
Armie Hammer is enjoying a nice little career renaissance, one that has earned him a ticket to Sunday’s Oscars, where 2017’s finest movie, “Call Me by Your Name,” will compete for Best Picture. After wading through flops like “The Lone Ranger” and “The Birth of a Nation,” Hammer is once again beloved. In the coming months, he’ll appear in the jocular Sundance highlight “Sorry to Bother You” and a Ruth Bader Ginsburg biopic that’s sure to be part of next year’s awards conversation.
Countless profiles have already traced Hammer’s roots as the aristocratic great-grandson of an oil magnate, and almost all of them herald 2010’s “The Social Network,” in which he pulled double duty playing twin Olympic athletes suing Mark Zuckerberg, as the actor’s illustrious Hollywood breakthrough.
Sure. “The Social Network” was Hammer’s breakthrough, and it’s certainly the movie that made him famous. But most profiles overlook the few projects that came before it, particularly one that caught my eye the other day: “Billy: The Early Years,” a biopic in which Hammer plays the one and only Billy Graham, who died last month at the age of 99.
Yep, Sir Armie ― the charming hunk who smooched Leo DiCaprio in “J. Edgar” and took a bite out of Timothée Chalamet’s semen-stained peach in “Call Me by Your Name” ― once portrayed America’s most famous evangelist, a Southern-fried live wire who popularized tent revivals, became the youngest college president in U.S. history, counseled actual presidents in the White House, called homosexuality “a sinister form of perversion” and urged his following to vote for Donald Trump despite the crude “Access Hollywood” tape that leaked during the 2016 campaign. 
But let’s not get sidetracked by Graham’s politics when we have a movie so deliciously bonkers to dissect.
“Billy: The Early Years” is a true wonder of the world, far more vapid and unskilled than your average inspirational biopic. Distributed by Rocky Mountain Pictures, a conservative company that would later release “Atlas Shrugged: Part I” and Dinesh D’Souza’s “2016: Obama’s America,” it opened Oct. 10, 2008, on 282 screens ― a decent number for a limited release ― and collected all of $347,328 at the box office.
Further clogging this enigma, “Billy” is directed by Robby Benson, a minor ’70s heartthrob who lost out on the part of Luke Skywalker, voiced the Beast in Disney’s “Beauty and the Beast” and helmed a handful of “Friends” and “Ellen” episodes.
According to a Los Angeles Times report from 2008, “Billy” cost $3.6 million ― more than the budgets of “Saw” and “Moonlight” combined. The Billy Graham Evangelistic Association declined to endorse the film, calling it “greatly embellished,” even though it’s a saccharine portrait that paints Graham in an wholesome, exceedingly favorable light.
“They wanted to make a movie about someone whose face could be chiseled into a mountain,” Benson said, referring to the producers, who’d recruited him for the job. “I said, ‘Let’s make it fun and funny.’”
Well, it’s fun and funny, all right. It’s also a fascinating case study of an actor making an odd career choice on the pathway to fame. Let’s recap the film’s highlights.
��Billy: The Early Years’: An Incredibly Specific Plot Summary 
Following a Brooks & Dunn cover of Johnny Cash’s “Over the Next Hill (We’ll Be Home),” the movie opens with a framing device. Martin Landau ― yep, Oscar-winning Martin Landau ― plays the elderly, hospice-ridden Charles Templeton, Graham’s evangelist BFF who later denounced Christianity.
He’s giving an interview to a documentary crew, though said documentary’s only purpose in the film is to provide Templeton interludes that fade out to reveal Graham-centric flashbacks. Every shot in Landau’s hospital room is overlit like a second-rate sitcom.
The first flashback cue: “Billy’s life was like a fairy tale. […] Billy grew up in a Norman Rockwell painting.” The stage has been set. We transition to Charlotte, North Carolina.
As it turns out, all Billy Graham really wanted to do was play baseball! Armie Hammer ― or someone who looks like him; we only see his backside ― hits a ball into a starry night sky in slow motion.
Six minutes in, here comes the Armie we know and love, dressed in a trim baseball uniform and delivering flowers to his mama.
As we learn, 16-year-old Billy didn’t have much of a thing for religion, probably because of his devout, uncaring father. For example, during a prayer at the dinner table, the little rebel sneaks a bite of food. (Maybe this is a good time to note that it’s the Great Depression? Multiple characters mention it, but the movie doesn’t delve into many of the era’s social dynamics.) 
Billy swears he’ll never become a preacher (or an undertaker, which we can’t fault him for). In his eyes, evangelists are “money-grubbing” hacks, period.
Blissfully, “Billy: The Early Years” has no time to waste. Immediately after he condemns preacher-hood, a farmhand invites Billy to attend to a tent revival. For the uninitiated, that’s an outdoor worship service where a man in a boxy suit shrieks about eternal damnation. There, the reverend addresses Billy directly, leading to the quickest change of heart ever known to changes of heart. Time to go to Bible school! 
But forget all that altar-call stuff. The movie gets good ― real good ― in the next scene, when Armie dons overalls and tends to farm work like something out of a fetish fantasy. Luckily, his mama approves of Bible college! (Told you it was the quickest about-face.)
Oh, and “Billy: The Early Years” Armie is just as handsome as “Call Me by Your Name” Armie, but he’s slightly less sculpted, giving him a plantation-twink vibe. He was 22 when the movie came out, and more young boys would have come out too, had they seen it. (Little did we know the peach-related intrigue that awaited us.)
The movie returns to Landau for some fodder on Templeton’s less dogmatic religious conversion. Boring.
Meanwhile, Billy has begun selling hairbrushes door to door, bringing his chewy Southern cadence and calculated charm to one home after the next. Knock on my door, Billy!
Here he is cheesing at evangelism-school orientation. Look at those blue eyes shimmer.
When seminary begins, Billy’s roommate tells him preaching is no different than selling brushes. Voila! It all makes sense now. But phooey on that one girl in class who rejects his advances. “I just don’t think you’re going to amount to much,” she says, after showing up at a dance with another boy despite having told Billy she’d go with him. Ouch. What a fool.
As for Billy’s first sermon, well, I’m not sure what we’re meant to make of it. Amid a staggeringly earnest story, the scene jolts into a surreal whimsy that’s just plain confusing. Billy stands at the lectern nervously, fiddling with his notes and observing a clock’s defeating tick.
Then, as if a lightning bolt has struck him, he starts shouting to the room in nonsensical fragments (“And what about David and Moses?!”) as the camera zooms toward him feverishly. Zany hoedown music plays as he yaks. At first it seems like a fantasy sequence, something taking place in his head. A homily on LSD, if you will.
But it’s all too real. I think?
The congregation’s reaction shots ― also captured via quick, tilted zooms ― seal the deal. A diamond in the extreme rough, that Billy.
Now it’s back to his romantic life. He’s crushing on the girl who will become his wife, Ruth Bell (played by Stefanie Butler). After he passes her a note in the school library and ignites their courtship, Billy and Ruth start romancin’ it up. Naturally, it’s a sexless arrangement, as far as we see it, until children enter the picture. Gotta stay pure.
But remember how baseball was once the only thing Billy wanted to do? Well, apparently he’s no good at it anymore. Ruth knows how to throw a ball, but Billy does not know how to catch it without hurting his cute little hand. (Or his big hand. Armie Hammer is 6-foot-5!)
He squeals in pain every time. Does it really hurt that much to catch a baseball? (This is a real question. I wouldn’t know.)
Billy then has the dreamiest split-screen phone call with his mother to proclaim his love.
One quick serious note: Lindsay Wagner, the “Bionic Woman” and “Six Million Dollar Man” actress who portrays Billy’s mother, is actually rather lovely in this movie. She has a delicate way of making silly dialogue seem authentic. Bravo, Lindsay Wagner. Someone give her a real role.
OK, so we’re a little more than halfway through this 85-minute gem when, for some reason, Billy starts preaching to anyone who will listen. Literally. I guess that’s what evangelizing means? Sort of? Cut to him standing outside some dilapidated sheriff’s office wearing this oddly patterned suit and converting a nonbeliever in a matter of seconds. And to think how hopeless he was the last time we saw him orate.
Meanwhile, Martin Landau is still stuck in that hospice bed, recounting his own evangelism days and his friendship with Billy, who is now preaching to larger and larger crowds.
In the best moment so far (other than the overalls), we get this cool shot of Landau imagining his younger self, played by Kristoffer Polaha.
Polaha’s Templeton is suddenly everywhere in Billy’s life, including at the birth of his first daughter. But Charles’ faith is shaken by the horrors of World War II ― which, sure, fair. Makes sense. Nazis are horrific.
Things keep on zipping, and after a title card informs us that two years have passed, Billy goes from farmland sermonizing to being president of Northwestern Bible College in Minneapolis at the age of 29. He doesn’t want to be one of those money-grubbing preachers he slammed at the start of the movie, so he tells his staff to make sure he’s “accountable for every penny collected” and can avoid whatever might precipitate the “downfall of an evangelist.” 
Here’s when things get Mike Pence-ish. In order to avoid a scandal, Billy decrees that “no man is to be in a room alone with a woman other than his wife.” It’s the most sexually explicit moment yet, other than the overalls. (But just wait.)
Charles’ crisis of faith intensifies as the war rages on. He brings his dilemma to Billy. How can God leave Hitler to run amok? How can the Almighty allow such travesties to blanket the globe? 
They sit together on a couch, seemingly on the precipice of a big ol’ smooch. Little did Armie know, he was auditioning for “Call Me by Your Name” almost a decade too soon. 
Charles abandons the pulpit, but Billy keeps praying nonetheless. When he next sees his friend, it’s the summer of 1949, four years after the end of World War II. Charles has doubled down on his agnosticism, and Billy, now 31, has doubled down on his convictions.
More importantly, they’ve both doubled down on their sexual tension. This is presumably unintentional, but let’s ignore that boring detail and accept the scene at face value.
Now, with less than 12 minutes remaining, a seed of doubt has been planted in Billy.
He has a dark night of the soul ― literally. In the next scene, he teleports like a ghost, appearing in the middle of the woods somewhere. Now we know where that $3.6 million went: The CGI is lit. 
It’s his come-to-Jesus moment. He is coming to Jesus to beg for proof of the Bible’s veracity. “Where are you?” he yells, after which a montage of moments from his still-young life flash by. That’s it! Mystery solved! It only took recalling his past to move on with his future.
“I hear you, Lord,” he says, again proving that Billy Graham had the hastiest religious conversion ever known to preachers whose net worth totals $25 million.
And now, everything’s hunky-dory. Billy’s “early years” are coming to an end, and so is the movie. Suddenly, he’s preaching about his friend Charles in his own tent revivals and telling the masses that Jesus “came from that part of the world which touches Europe and Africa and Asia” ― aka the Middle East ― and “probably had brown skin.”
Considering how much some fundamentalists love White Jesus, this is maybe sort of a progressive idea to include in this otherwise ginger movie? 
Anyway, apparently this is what it looks like to stand in front of a sky. (Note: The sky is gray at the start of this concluding sermon, but grows progressively bluer as Billy continues. It’s a metaphor!)
And the crowd! What a mighty crowd! He made it though the wilderness! (Yeah right.)
That’s the final shot. The end credits roll to the sounds of Michael W. Smith’s “Amazing Love.”
Here’s what we learned about Billy Graham from “Billy: The Early Years”: He’s a walking version of the hymn “Old-Time Religion,” blessed with a pleasant working-class upbringing and a squeaky-clean respectability but cursed by a sex appeal he can’t take advantage of and what seems to be no desire to visit his old friend, who is stuck in hospice giving interviews about Billy’s life.
You should watch this movie. It’s a masterwork to behold. 
A representative for Armie Hammer did not respond to our request for comment.
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shinobikage · 7 years ago
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Saya Uchiha
Chapter One
Genre: Adventure, Action, Romance, Realistic
Rate: Teen
World: Naruto (Boruto’s Timeline)
Summary:  The war has been over, it’s been peaceful and technology has pushed progress forward creating a new era. The world of Shinobi is not as it used to be, but better. This story is centered around Saya Uchiha (OC) and her team/friends. The first chapter takes place the same day Boruto Uzumaki starts the Academy and it goes from there.
Warning: OC Centric, suicide attempt.
‘What difference does it make?’ Saya asks herself every single day, it is the first thought she has when she wakes and the last before she falls into slumber. Daily she wakes up, goes to work, and comes back home to the desolation overcrowded with screams of despair. There are so many expectations of her and all are overwhelming. She believes she is not good enough so her question once again is ‘what difference does it make?’ After taking a shower, she gets dressed and brushes her teeth. Staring into a fogged mirror as she had showered in the hottest setting she can possibly go. Her skin ached and was a little swollen with a hue of red rose color. She walks downstairs to her kitchen, being welcomed by the suns' rays. She fills the coffee maker with water turns it on. She puts some toast in a toaster after buttering each slice. She stands patiently waiting for everything to finish. A beeping sound breaks the silence, a strong rich scent of roasted beans fills the room and her mouth salivates. She walks over to the counter without any will left in her body.
“Coffee…” she whispers as she pours it into a mug, and sits down at the table with three slices of toast and two sunny side up eggs. Only the hands of the clock ‘tick tock tick’ prevents the room from being soundproof. Biting into the crunchy buttered bread, chewing slowly with no desire to continue eating because of the lack of company. She places both hands on the mug and grips it, seeking warmth from an object, seeking comfort in an object. She sighs and sips her coffee. She enjoys the warmth it brings, the scent it brings, and even the bitter taste with a hint of sweetness. It doesn’t really help her wake up, but it definitely gives her a good start, as it is one of the few things she seems to enjoy in life. After she was done eating, she puts on her boots and begins to head out. It's a sunny day, a nice breeze that caressed her skin and greeted her.
           As she walks through the village, few greet her because of her aloof presence, and those that do quickly regret it and distant themselves. ‘What’s up with that weird woman?’ ‘Shh, she will hear you! Look at her crest on the back, she is an Uchiha.’ ‘Seriously? I have had it with the Uchiha, they are all the same!’ ‘I don’t care if an Uchiha helped the Hokage save us, it was an Uchiha who caused the war in the first place!’ ‘They are all so pitiful.’ ‘Disgusting, their attitude is the worst.’ Whispers begin to drift in the atmosphere. Slowly brushing their way into her ears, thoughts that should have been kept to themselves, they travel like the wind. It’s not that she does not want to socialize, she has tried that in the past; and it’s all smiles at first, but then comes a time when betrayal and manipulation is always the outcome. People take advantage and in turn Saya remotes herself from having a social life. She prefers to avoid anything and anyone that can hurt her, especially a village that seems to hate her clan. She understands that her clan has caused a lot of pain and loss for the village, however she is not at fault. Still, she lets them be, as it is better to stay quiet than to confront people. This is her resolve. Despite this hatred towards her, the ambient is very peaceful, people are happy and rightfully so. A time of peace after the Fourth Shinobi War, nations are now getting along and working together. No longer making it their goal to destroy and overtake one other. She feels out of place, she wants to fit in but somehow, she is the piece of the puzzle that no one seems to figure out where it goes. She passes by a flower shop where a blond kid with light blue eyes rushes out and bumps into her.
“Watch where you are going lady!” he yelled as he ran towards the direction of the Academy.
“Good grief! Inojin you will hear from me when you come back! Are you okay? I apologize on behalf of my son. My name is Ino Yamanaka!” Ino comes out of the shop bowing.
“No problem, Yamanaka-san.” Saya mentions as she turns to walk away, she was used to people bumping into her as if she were a ghost that suddenly appeared out of nowhere.
“Wait! Beautiful, don’t you think we should give her flowers for that? As an apology that is.” Suddenly a pale man with dark hair wearing an apron with flower patterns steps out with four blue irises.
“You see, he is our son and we own this shop. Please forgive him and stop by whenever you’d like.” The man smiled at Saya as he placed the flowers in her hands. ‘What a kind family’ she thought as she took the flowers.
“Yes, of course! These are freshly cut, please take them as an apology!” Ino smiles at Saya.
“This isn’t necessary it wasn’t a big deal, however, thanks…” Saya turned around with the flowers in hands and resumed walking. A little bit of joy sparked in her heart, however, it was not enough. She is also headed in the direction of the Academy, she may arrive late, she could run, but ‘what difference does it make?’
“Are we seriously the last ones?!” a furious almond haired girl with beautiful brown skin and emerald green eyes paces back and forth in the classroom.
“Just sit down, no matter what someone will eventually show up.” said a boy whose hair is cerulean colored and skin is tan. His eyes match the color of the azure sea. He was lying on the bench and he was yawning constantly.
“Don’t tell me what to do! You should just stay quiet, fish bait!” she says with a smirk.
“That’s not my name!” He sits up and clenches his fists.
“I…I don’t think we should fight… we are going to be teammates so…” a quiet timid boy fidgets as he tries to break up the argument. He has peach colored skin, white pearl eyes with no pupils, and rose gold colored hair.
“Tch, well our Sensei is so lame!” the girl pipes down a little and crosses her arms.
“Bring me a bucket.” The cerulean haired boy requests, at first the girl is angry at the request, but she realizes what he is planning and snickers.
‘They all sound so annoying’ Making her way through the halls of the Academy, Saya had heard most of the conversation ever since she stepped into the Academy. ‘These kids are the supposed genin? What a joke.’ She slides the door and suddenly the room goes quiet. She noticed they had placed a bucket of water on the floor, two of them have a smug look and the other is looking at the floor embarrassed.
“Is this supposed to be a team of clowns? I didn’t realize, must be the wrong classroom.” she closes the door and waits outside for their reaction.
“WHAT DID SHE SAY?!” the boisterous girl turns all red in anger and grinds her teeth.
“What? She just left? Is she really supposed to be our Sensei?” the cerulean haired boy gets up from the bench and stands next to the girl.
“LET’S GO AFTER HER!” she slides the door open and gasps.
“Did you really think your little prank was going to work on me?” Saya looks down on them with a menacing look and blocks the entrance.
“S-Sensei we—” the timid rose gold haired boy began to speak, but she cuts him off.
“Shut it, follow me so we can get this over with.” Saya turns around and she hears their loud and obnoxious footsteps following behind. ‘They are supposed to be ninja’ she sighs and continues to lead them.
“What is up with her?” the angry almond haired girl asks.
“No idea, she seems annoying. I heard she has already failed 5 teams, now I can see why.” The blue haired boy responds.
“Seriously? She broke the Sixth’s record?” the timid boy remarks.
“She makes me feel awkward.”
“Yeah, she seems very mean and cold too.” he mentions. Suddenly Saya stops and they all bump into her.
“Uwah!” they all rub their nose and look up to her. The feel shivers down their spine as they see her gloomy eyes.
“You know I can hear you right? Stop talking and pick up the pace.” She glares at them and then turns around and continues to walk.
“…” the genin follow her silently.
“Here we are. What you need to do is get these bells from me and—” Saya gets cut off by the almond haired girl.
“Hey, we just walked all the way from the Academy to the training grounds without saying a single word. I mean, aren’t you going to introduce yourself?” the girl asked as she crossed her arms.
“What does it matter? It’s not like you guys are going to pass.” Saya’s expression are hard to read normally since she wears a mask. Their only clue of expression are her eyes and right now they look deadpan.
“What does that mean?!” the three asked at the same time.
“Fine. I am Saya Uchiha.” She says and a moment of silent drags on.
“And?”
“I don’t like you guys. Everything else is classified, clear?”
“You know, you are annoying Sensei.” The cerulean haired boy scratches the back of his head and looks away.
“Kai, b-be kind to…” the rose gold haired boy gets interrupted.
“Well my name’s Kaminari from the Arashi clan and I transferred from Kumogakure. I am here to prove the people in Konoha that Kumogakure is the strongest village. I will—“
“Become Hokage, yadda yadda I have heard this 5 times and you made it the 6th.” Saya cuts Kaminari immediately.
“WILL YOU LET ME FINISH MY SENTENCE?! I don’t want to be Hokage, I want to become the strongest ninja in the world!” Kaminari poses with her arms at her hips and looks up to Saya with gleam in her eyes.
“Pfft” Saya’s first clear reaction shocks the three wannabe genin.
“What’s so funny Sensei?” Baffled, Kaminari asks.
“You are.” Saya immediately answers angering Kaminari.
“Grr! You are the worst Sensei ever!” Kaminari stops posing and continues to bicker at Saya.
“Anyway, my name is Kai from the Ningyo clan and I transferred from Kirigakure. I don’t really have a goal or whatever, I am just doing this because my parents are forcing me.”
“You know? Your life sucks fish bait.” Kaminari had a deadpan face as she said this.
“Stop calling me that! I have a goal now, and it is to destroy your goals in life!” Kai points at her as he yells.
“WHAT?! WHY DON’T YOU TRY IT RIGHT NOW FISH BAIT!” Kaminari yells back.
“M-my name is Haruto Hyūga and my dream is to protect Himawari Uzumaki with my life.” The entire atmosphere changed after this awkward comment. Everyone was uncomfortable and it was silent for a while.
“W-what?” Haruto asked.
“So you have anger issues, you are lazier than someone I know from the Nara clan, and you are a creepy quiet boy who is obsessed with Himawari? I didn’t need the introductions, it’s pretty obvious to me. You guys are weird.” Saya responded.
“What was that?” Kai asked.
“WHAT?! SENSEI I AM GONNA—” Kaminari was cut off by Haruto.
“You are really bitter!” Haruto blurted out immediately covering his mouth regretting it.
“The task is to grab these bells from me. There are only two, so one of you will fail. Start!” Saya had a plan, what she wanted to see was not just teamwork, but she also wanted them to notice her suffering. She wanted to call out ‘If they can save me…’ she thought, and immediately dismissed the thought away.
“All of you failed. Go home.” She said sighing, disappointed. ‘What was I thinking? They are only genin, they can’t possibly see my struggles. Even if I kept dropping hints, it was no use.’
“You are so messed up, you know that right?” said Kai as he tried to get up from the ground but was exhausted. He reached his left side of his leg for his water bottle, but did not find it. ‘Where did it go?’ he thought as he panted.
“N-no… I can’t believe this.” Haruto mentioned as he teared up and clenched his fists. ‘I am not worthy to protect her…’
“Are you happy now Saya? Do you like doing this? You are not worthy to be called Sensei.” Kaminari was angry and she gave Saya a hateful look. ‘What the hell is all this about?’
“If you have complaints, go to the Hokage. It will all be over soon.” Saya disappeared right after that last attempt of cry for help. ‘Every single time, these kids think they know everything and can do anything but at the end of the day… what does it matter?’ Saya thought, she was disappointed and hurt because she believed in this team. For the first time, she believed that maybe they were able to see her hurt. ‘This was the last time anyway.’ She thought as she leaped from tree to tree.
“What does that mean?! What a jerk!” Kaminari looked at her team, they were exhausted and beat. She eased up and saw that Kai was having issues breathing. She scanned the area for his water bottle and found it.
“Geez, you really are like a fish outta the sea aren’t ya?” she mocked as she grabbed the water bottle and tossed it at him.
“It’s not something I can control yet, I have been separated from the ocean for a while. Plus I used most of my chakra.” Kai began to gulp down the water.
“It’d be funny if you start flopping around like a fish.” She laughed, Kai threw his now empty water bottle at Kaminari.
“Still… don’t you think the whole thing was weird? I mean, we worked together, that’s what I thought the bell challenge was about. But her comments, her ways of moving… it was strange. It wasn’t normal.” Haruto spoke surprising Kai and Kaminari.
“…So you noticed something was off too didn’t you?” Kai said as he scratched his head.
“And that genjutsu she placed us in was really weird too…” Kaminari mentioned as Kai and Haruto nodded. They stay silent for a while, thinking of what to do next.
“Well whatever it is, we should reach to the Hokage’s office before she does.” Kaminari said as she helped Haruto get up.
“Excuse me!” someone unknown calls out to the three students.
“W-who is—” Kai sat up straight after regaining some strength back.
“Kiseki nii-san?” Haruto says confused.
“You know this dude Haruto?” Kaminari asks as she points at him with her thumb.
“Yes, he is my cousin.” Haruto mentions as his right eyebrow perks slightly wondering why he was there.
“So he too is from the Hyūga clan?” Kaminari asks.
“Duh, look at his eyes.” Kai remarks after he yawns.
“Shut up fish bait!”
“Don’t call me—” Kai gets cut off by Kiseki.
“I could not help but overhear your conversation.” Kiseki immediately prostrates himself to the ground.
“Please forgive my friend! She has gone through a lot and she may seem very cold, but she is very caring! She feels all alone in the world and shoulders a lot of weight and responsibility! She doesn’t know how to ask for help, rather she feels like she is a bother! She resorts to being rude because she knows it makes people distance themselves from her! I know it’s a lot to ask but please! Forgive her!” Kiseki still stays in a prostrated position, not lifting his head to look at them.
“W-what is going on with her?” Kai and Kaminari asked.
“Well that was very blunt and personal, I am sure she would have liked to have kept that in priv—” Haruto was scolding Kiseki, but he gets interrupted.
“She has been struggling for a while and she distances herself from people on purpose. It does not mean she doesn’t like you, she just doesn’t want to get hurt. I have been away in a mission, it is the first time I am back in the village in 4 months. I haven’t been able to speak to her, I just got here. She is my rival, therefore I vouch for her!” Kiseki looks at them with determination in his eyes, ‘her chakra feels different.’
‘She seems annoying. I heard she has already failed 5 teams, now I can see why’ thought Kai.
‘You are really bitter!’ Haruto thought and guilt began to make him uneasy.
‘You are the worst Sensei ever!’ a flashback crossed her mind and she clenched her fists.
“Sensei, can you take us to her? I have to apologize otherwise I won’t be honoring Kumogakure.” Kaminari said determined, whether Kiseki helped her or not she would find a way.
“Yes nii-san, I owe her an apology as well.” Haruto felt uneasy, ‘something is not right’
“Whatever happened, we had no right to disrespect her.” Kai said as he thought ‘what was I thinking?’
“We want to be there for her.” They all said determined.
“Thank you! Yes! Follow me!” Kiseki got up from the ground ‘this is the will of fire burning inside of them! Surely these have to be the ones that can give Saya hope!’
‘It’s not just that, last thing she said was ‘it will all be over soon’ Kaminari thought as she followed Kiseki.
‘She kept quiet a lot, she spoke very little words’ Haruto thought to himself, his heart raced.
‘She seemed tired, she was distant and her expressions where robot-like. As if she trained herself not to let others know how she is truly feeling.’ Kai thought as he leaped through the trees.
           The shouts were overwhelming her ‘I can’t take this anymore’ she thought. ‘It all needs to stop, what does it matter? Every single day is the same, this loneliness and this constant voice. It makes me weak.’ Once she ignored the voices in her head, she discarded them as soon as she thought them. However, lately they have been increasing. Not just in quantity, but in volume, every single day they got louder and louder. They don’t let her sleep, they don’t let her think, they don’t allow her any time for bettering herself. They are there, constantly knocking at her door. The knocks started with fists, but now they have escalated to beating the door with bats and other heavy equipment. It breaks down her walls, it takes her and beats her up constantly. At the end of the day she is bloodied on the ground by her constant beating. Her vocals are damaged from screaming, dry lips from thirst, she was thirsty for help. Eyes blurry from blood covering her entire body and oozing. Inflicting pain onto herself to stop the voices, she was desperate to silence them, so desperate she had cuts and bruises all over her body. Numbness because all the nerve endings are damaged from this mental abuse. Her breathing was labored and her chest was rising paradoxically, her broken ribs from crashing against the walls. It hurt to even sigh.
‘Do it, no one will care’ says the voice.
‘Does it even matter?’
‘Not like anyone will miss you’
‘Who do you think you are?’
‘Stupid Uchiha’
‘Disgrace’
‘You are weird’
‘Pathetic’
‘Dishonor’
‘Failure’
‘Stupid’
‘Disgusting’
‘Pitiful’
‘I heard she has already failed 5 teams, now I can see why.’
‘You are the worst Sensei ever!’
‘You are really bitter!’
‘Worst Sensei’
‘Are you happy now?’
‘Annoying’
‘Messed up’
“SHUT UP!! I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE!! SHUT UP!” she yells and cries, certain that no one will hear her agony.
‘You don’t even matter.’
‘Do it’
“GET OUT OF MY HEAD!!!” She falls on her knees, drowning in these thoughts. So deep that she doesn’t have the will to swim anymore, so dark that she can’t see the light above her. She feels helpless, worthless, she feels alone.
“AHHHHHH!!!” She punches the floor in frustration and hears something clank onto the ground. She looks to her side and sees a kunai peeking out from her pouch. Calling out to her, begging to be taken.
‘Grab it’ the voice says but she hesitates, however she somehow finds comfort in that kunai. The one thing that she believes can save her, is the thing that will kill her. She grabs the kunai desperately and she grips it with both hands. Trembling, she holds it up to her neck. Suddenly, a loud tumbling startles her and she activates her Sharingan by instinct. She looks up to see her door knocked down and four figures standing there.
“SAYA!” Kiseki yells and puts a hand out to stop the genin.
“S-Sensei!” the genin step forward, but feel helpless. The only thing standing between them and Sensei is Kiseki’s hand. They all stare in horror, never had they ever encountered something like this.
“It’s all over now, you don’t have to worry about me anymore.” She says as she closes her eyes and begins to drive the kunai towards her neck. Suddenly she feels a gust of wind, she hears a movement so fast it almost didn’t register.
“Ngh!” A gushing sound makes her open her eyes. She doesn’t feel pain, she only feels guilt and remorse. Her eyes widen.
“W-what?! Kiseki you—” Kiseki’s arm is in front of her with the kunai embed into his arm. She turns her head and sees Kiseki smiling, he embraces her as if securing her from any other harm.
“You can’t, you can’t die on me.” He whispers and immediately she hears footsteps rushing towards her. Young children’s cries fill the once empty lonely silent room. Cries of people she just met today. Cries of children that didn’t like her, the ones she made angry on purpose so that they hate her.
“Sensei! I am sorry! You are not the worst!” Kaminari yells as she grips Saya, hugging her from the front.
“And you aren’t annoying!” Kai blurts out, he is trying to control his tears but they slip down the cheeks uncontrollably. He hugs her from the left side, burying his head on her shoulder.
“I wasn’t right on calling you bitter! I am sorry!” Haruto repeats over and over as he tightens his hold on her right side.
“Please Sensei! Don’t do this!” They all say at the same time.
“You guys…” Saya is speechless. For the first time, she is speechless and not on purpose. She begins to cry, not just tears, but her whole soul is crying. Her voice comes out as broken, but in reality she is saved.
“See? we want you to live.” Kiseki says as he places his forehead on the back of her neck as tears slip from his eyes, caressing his cheeks.
“…passed…” Saya mumbles and the genin suddenly stop crying in order to hear her, they look up at her with trails of tears on their cheeks.
“Huh?” the genin say in unison.
“You all… passed… you are now genin.” Saya smiles while her tears cascade from her eyes onto her now damp mask. The genin smile and hug her tight as if to never let go of such a wonderful person. A misunderstood person who just needed warmth, real comfort and not from a hot cup of coffee. ‘Maybe there is hope in life’ Saya thought to herself as she smiled, a genuine smile that she had lost long ago.
To be continued.
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