#seriously this constant act that he puts on all the time must be exhausting

[zluckychap]

♫ life is a neverending show, my friend. ♫

[itsnexhun]

Rush v.

taglist: @queenmimis, @strawberrymango-l3, @dreams-writings, @ally-to-fic-writers

TW: slight nudity, descriptions of anxiety and abandonment issues, veeery slight NSFW implications

“Seriously? You put up a tent?”

He looks at you as if you are kidding, as if you just told him the most ridiculous tale ever. Maybe your wishful thinking slightly overestimated your situation. You know by now, that he’s recognized your intentions, your childlike curiosity regarding him.

“Why we come here? You think I have time for camping?”

Perhaps you messed up. He doesn’t seem mad, but still visibly annoyed. Were you thinking too much into this? Was this a mistake? 

Were you just digging your own grave by doing this?

His hand went to open the door. Blood rushing to your brain. You panicked. I cannot let him leave, that was the only thought left in your mind. Your body acted on its own, fulfilling your only current wish – even if it meant killing you in process.

You grabbed his arm. He did not turn his face to face you. But you could feel his arm muscles tense up under your grip. He was on high alert. It would have taken him only a millisecond to eliminate you if he had seen you as a threat. You were walking on a thin line.

“Please. Wait! Just this night and after that I’ll drive nonstop till we get to Yorknew. I’ll get you there in time for whatever you need to do! I promise-.” 

“Why?”

His question interrupted your shameless begging. No more words were needed. Just that one word sent your brain spiraling.

Why? Why did you want this?

Was it the innocent and dumb childlike curiosity? Was it your strange attraction to him, the darkness within him? Was it the thrill, the boredom of your mundane life that led you to slowly become attached to the idea of this man?

You truly had no idea.

“Why… I- I don’t know…”

You were confused, stuck in a trance surrounded by your own thoughts. Your hand slowly slipping off his arm, you felt sudden surge of weakness. Head feeling heavy, black dots dancing in your field view. Endless thoughts ceased as the darkness enveloped you whole. Your exhausted body fell in his lap.

The sound of fire cracking fills your ears as you slowly wake up. Struggling to open eyes, you can tell you sobbed slightly, your eyelashes feel glued together. Warmth enveloped your body, you are comfortably laying in the sleeping bag inside the tent. 

It takes you a while to realize how you got here. You passed out in midst of your conversation with Feitan, if it can even be called a conversation. It’s no wonder, you’ve been driving while being under constant stress for days now. It was only a matter of time for you to collapse. 

Judging by the dark outside, you must have slept for quite a while. It takes only a second for you to start to panic. The realization hit you hard, set the blood in your veins ablaze. You felt your heartbeat echo in your ears.

Feitan�� Where is he? Did he leave you here?

You stumbled out of the sleeping bag, ran out of the tent. There was no one. Nothing but the fire quietly cracking by your feet, water running in the distance. Trees and dark as far as you could see. No sign of him other than the tent and fire being made. Taking a quick turn, you find your car to be still here. Yet that could mean nothing when it comes to his presence. He was ready to leave you on foot.

“Feitan…?”

Your voice is weak. You are scared.

“Feitan!”

This time you scream into the darkness. But the darkness holds no answer to you. It’s too quiet. It’s all too quiet. You want to cry.

Looking around frantically, you decide to run along the stream of river naively hoping to find him. Crying his name out to the forest as you rushed, looking around at all that was surrounding you. You felt like a lost child. In a sense, you were one. You already lost your way back. While in distress, you lacked any sense of direction.

Tired and out of breath, you fell to your knees. At this point you were bawling your eyes out while struggling to breathe. You were seeing black again. You wanted to scream and cry to the maximum of your lungs’ capacity.

“Boo.”

You scream and tumble forward as you feel a tap on your shoulder. Feeling your heart almost escape your chest, you fall on your back into the small stream. It’s barely to your knees’ length, but enough to submerge your whole body when laying down. The pain echoes in your lower body. You fell on some large stones. The wet clothes stick to your body and weigh you down, you shiver violently.

Looking up above you, you see Feitan snickering at your reaction. He’s missing his top. Pants rolled up to his knees, legs and hands still slightly wet. He’s holding two freshly catched fishes in one hand with his boots tucked under his arm. His other hand is extending to you to help you up.

“I thought you left me,” you say shakily while still sobbing.

“Waited for you to wake up. Sleep too long, went to catch dinner,” he says calmly motioning to show you the fish.

You are not sure if you are seeing things right, but you feel like he does feel a tiny bit bad for scaring you half to death just now.

“Let’s go. No want for you to get sick.”

While saying that last part, he looks away with a small and almost unnoticeable blush on his face. You take his hand as he drags you out of water. The cold air hits you right away, you almost hiss in response. Not getting sick in this state will be hard. His hand in contrary is warm, his body is oozing warmth. You wish you could steal some of his body heath but that would be asking for too much. Though he is the reason you ended up like this in the first place.

You can feel your teeth unwillingly clattering from cold on the way back to your camp. Tightly wrapping your arms around you, the water is still pouring down from you every time you squeeze your clothes. Just simply hearing the sound of firewood cracking lifts your spirits. You squat down to it and get yourself comfortable while still conserving your remaining body heat. 

The fire’s helping but not by a lot. It’s the end of the August, nights are beginning to feel colder and colder as the summer is ending. 

“Take of your clothes.”

His voice disturbs you from your thoughts. You immediately stop shivering from the shock.

“W-what?”

“Your clothes wet. Off.”

You are slowly beginning to understand. You open your mouth to speak but are interrupted.

“Here,” he says as he throws his cloak-like top to your side.

Even though you should remind him that you have a whole suitcase of clothes in your car, you feel like you cannot. This is a pure gesture of his kindness towards you, it was unlike anything he had done for you till now. This didn’t benefit him even a bit, this was simply something he did for only your own benefit. 

You are too cold to tell if you are blushing or not.

“Can you… Maybe turn around,” you say while he is still awkwardly staring at you when you take his clothes into your hands, “please?”

Without words he quickly turns around, goes further away making a distance between the two of you and starts preparing the fish. You feel quite uneasy stripping yourself off clothes in an open area with someone just few meters away from you. The wet clothes are hard to shed, the fabric gets stuck on your naked skin – it’s heavy and hard, burns when you try to force it off. You leave your underwear on even though it’s drenched like the rest of your clothes. After all it feels weird to be completely bare under his clothes in the middle of a forest. Such a bizarre and specific situation. You hope underwear won’t make any wet stains on his clothes – just like clothes with wet swimsuits underneath during summer. 

His clothes are a lot shorter on your body, but it at least covers everything it has to. Though it may look like a shorter dress. It makes you blush. The fabric still holds his warmth. While putting it on, you noticed the seams to be quite messy. Perhaps it was handsewn by him?

“Thank you… It’s okay to turn around now.”

He tensed up, stopped in his actions – he was gutting the fish. Steadily turning around, he tried to hide his slight blush but that small change in his cold behavior didn’t escape you. He stared at you for an awkward while, then got up and put the gutted trouts on fire. You still felt quite cold, you tried hard to hide your shivering to please him. Hugging your knees, you sat by the fire watching the fish sizzle as it burned, trying to warm yourself up. His clothes simply weren’t enough for a cold late August night.

“I’m sorry,” you said weekly, trying to stop yourself from sobbing again.

“What for?”

“I’m sorry for being such a trouble to you. I was just supposed to drive you to Yorknew and now I forced you to go camping with me,” you finished off fully sobbing.

“Ridiculous. I do what I want. If I camping, I want to go camping. Simple.”

You tried hard to hold your sobs, holding the snot in your nose. You hated being consoled like this.

“Now stop crying or I give you real reason to cry,” he said slightly having lost patience over your state. He put the trout off the fire, handing one to you.

“Remember nails? Cry more and I take your tongue,” saying so he flexed his hand, sharp nails coming out like cat claws.

You forcibly smiled and laughed it off disguising your last sobs as laughter. You thought he was joking. But was he really? Only he knew the substantiality of his threats. After all you had no idea who he truly was. 

The fish was bland and a little bit charred, it was only the pure hunger that forced it down your throat. You ate in silence, surrounded only by the sound of fire cracking, water splashing. Yet the atmosphere was light, not tense even a bit. You both felt more comfortable around each other with every second passing. You were sure that if soulmates were real, tied together with a red string, then you two were connected. Tangled in each other, being pulled closer and closer by fate. 

“Go to sleep. Tomorrow you drive, no stops,” he said strictly tossing out the fish bones to the fire. 

Tomorrow might be the last day you get to spend with him. You had a bad feeling that the clock was ticking and you two were to be swiftly separated and returned to each of your lives, different worlds, destined to never cross paths again. No matter how irrational it may have seemed to be sure of something so uncertain such as fate, deep inside you - you knew what was true. 

Without a thought you went to the tent, climbed inside your sleeping bag trying to find rest on the hard stony ground. Then it dawned on you, you still had his clothes. Even though you had a suitcase full off spare clothes you had packed, you were occupying his only bigger piece of clothing, He was still half naked, out in the night and most likely cold. He did not follow you into the tent, there was only one sleeping bag. You felt ashamed to have forgotten that. 

“Hey… Feitan?” you called out to him shyly. 

“Mhm?”

“Are you not cold?”

“A little,” he admits not thinking much of it. He knows, he’s been through worse than a little cold. 

“I can give you your clothes back-.” 

“No,” he interrupts you abruptly, “no want you to get sick.”

You couldn’t believe what you were about to say. 

“I feel a little cold too… So maybe,” you took a deep breath, “maybe you could come over here and lay with me inside the sleeping bag?” 

You practically blurted out the last bit of your sentence. Feeling incredibly embarrassed, you started biting your lower lip nervously. Were you too forward? Was this over the line?

“Seriously?”

“Yes… Please,” you said as your voice was practically trembling, “Feitan…”

His breath hitched the moment he heard you say his name like that. You were begging, you desperately wanted to feel the heat of his skin. To feel that he is real and right next to you, to feel that he isn’t going anywhere tonight. Yes, you were cold, but there was something more way beyond that.

He got up, his movement was slow and ragged like he was trying to control himself - holding back from doing something more to you. Slipping into the tent, his face was firm. Brows deeply furrowed, teeth clenched. You were inviting a beast to lay with you and god help you if he lost control. 

“You trust me? You trust I do nothing to you?” he knelt down to you as he questioned your conviction. Your eyes met, you saw that deep longing, the darkness that entwined it – as deep as a bottomless well. You were not afraid. 

You said nothing in return, you had no idea what to say. Simply moving to the side of the sleeping bag, you created a space for him to fit next to you. Feitan smiled, it was a simple smile – a smile that seemingly meant nothing but also everything at once. He slid into the sleeping bag. It was a tight fit, you were straining just to simply not breach his personal space. The heat radiating off him, the human warmth, felt incredibly alluring to you. So much so, that it pained you to keep your distance. 

Firewood cracking lulled you into sleep. As your consciousness slipped, your body gave up on resisting the magnetism that pulled you two together. You fell into his arms. Feitan did not sleep a bit that night. 

[princesskenny1998]

One Piece | Monkey D. Luffy x jealous!reader ~ Hammock

It had been a long, exhausting day. The crew had stopped at Amazon Lily for supplies, and while you were grateful for Boa Hancock's hospitality—she had, after all, helped Luffy out of some tight spots in the past—the woman’s blatant obsession with your boyfriend was starting to grate on your nerves.

You knew Luffy wasn’t one to stray; he was loyal and straightforward, almost to a fault. But watching Hancock swoon, flutter her eyelashes, and do everything short of throwing herself at him had pushed your patience to its limit. What was worse was that Luffy, in his usual carefree way, didn’t seem to take it seriously. He’d laughed off her advances, playfully but firmly told her that he wasn’t interested, and continued to act as though everything was normal.

But it wasn’t normal. At least, not for you.

The tiny spark of annoyance you felt wasn’t rational—you knew that. Luffy had chosen you. He’d made it clear time and time again that his heart was with you, but there was something about seeing another woman—especially one as powerful and beautiful as Boa Hancock—practically fawning over him that made your blood boil. And despite Luffy’s constant assurances, that irritation lingered, a knot in your chest that refused to go away.

Now, back on the Sunny, the crew was settling down for the night, and you found yourself sulking at the back of the ship, staring out over the dark ocean. You couldn’t shake the feeling, the insecurity that had been gnawing at you since the encounter with Hancock. You knew it wasn’t fair to be upset with Luffy, but part of you couldn’t help it. (uh, insecure much)

Luffy had noticed, of course. Even if he seemed carefree and oblivious most of the time, he was more perceptive than people gave him credit for—especially when it came to you. He’d seen your sour mood, caught the sharpness in your tone when you’d responded to him after Hancock had left, and now, he was determined to figure out what was wrong.

“Hey,” his voice cut through the cool night air, breaking you out of your thoughts. You didn’t turn around, crossing your arms over your chest and hunching your shoulders slightly. You heard his footsteps as he approached, light and familiar, until he stopped just behind you.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice genuinely curious, but with a hint of concern that tugged at your heart. You didn’t answer, feeling childish and stubbornly holding onto the frustration that you couldn’t quite let go of.

Luffy stepped closer, leaning forward so that his chin was almost resting on your shoulder. “You’re all grumpy,” he observed with a small smile. “Did I do something?”

You hesitated, the words sticking in your throat. It wasn’t fair to put this on him, you knew that, but the jealousy was like a bitter taste in your mouth. “No,” you said, though it was clearly a lie. “It’s not you.”

He tilted his head to the side, and you could feel the warmth of his body pressing against your back, a gentle but insistent reminder of his presence. “It sounds like it’s about me,” he said lightly, but there was an uncharacteristic seriousness in his tone. “Is it... about Hammock?”

You stiffened, and he must have seen the way your jaw tightened because he let out a low, understanding hum. “It is about her, huh?” His voice softened, losing its playful edge. “I thought you knew I wasn’t interested in her. I told her, like, a thousand times that I’m not.”

“I know that,” you said quickly, biting your lip. You turned your head slightly to look at him, catching the genuine concern in his wide eyes. “I know you’re not interested in her, but it’s just... hard to see it, you know? She’s gorgeous, and she’s so confident and—”

“She’s not you,” Luffy interrupted firmly, his eyes locking onto yours with a seriousness that made your breath hitch. “I don’t care how pretty or powerful she is. She’s not you, and I don’t want her. I only want you.”

The conviction in his voice, the unwavering honesty in his gaze, made your heart stutter. Your frustration melted a little, replaced by a pang of guilt for doubting him, even for a moment. “I know, Luffy,” you said, softer this time, “It’s just... I don’t like seeing her all over you like that. It makes me...”

“Jealous?” he asked, a hint of amusement creeping back into his tone.

You sighed, nodding reluctantly. “Yeah. It makes me jealous, okay? I know it’s stupid, but I can’t help it.”

He was quiet for a moment, his gaze softening as he studied your face. Then, without warning, he reached out and pulled you into a tight embrace, pressing you against his chest. His chin rested on top of your head, and his voice was low and serious when he spoke.

“It’s not stupid,” he said quietly, his arms tightening around you. “I don’t like seeing you upset. And if Hancock’s making you feel like that, then it’s not okay. I don’t want you to ever doubt how much you mean to me.”

You buried your face in his chest, the warmth of his body and the steadiness of his heartbeat grounding you. The knot of jealousy and insecurity that had been gnawing at you unraveled slightly, replaced by a warmth that spread through your chest at the sound of his voice.

“I don’t doubt it,” you said, your voice muffled against his shirt. “I just... needed to hear it, I guess.”

Luffy pulled back slightly, his hands cupping your face, and his expression was more serious than you’d ever seen it. “You don’t have to be jealous,” he said firmly, his voice rougher, more intense. “You’re my girl. No one else matters.”

Then, before you could respond, he kissed you—hard and possessive, his lips pressing against yours with a desperate urgency that took your breath away. You melted into the kiss, your fingers tangling in his hair as he backed you up against the railing of the ship, his body pressing firmly against yours. There was something different in the way he kissed you, something fierce and determined, as if he needed to prove something to you.

Luffy’s hands moved with purpose, one sliding down to grip your waist while the other remained at the back of your neck, holding you in place as he deepened the kiss. His teeth grazed your lower lip, making you gasp, and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, his movements bold and unrelenting.

You moaned into his mouth, your body arching against his as his hands roamed over your back, pulling you impossibly closer. He kissed you until you were dizzy, until the jealousy and doubts had vanished completely, leaving only the searing heat of his touch and the way his lips moved against yours.

When he finally pulled away, you were both breathing heavily, your cheeks flushed and your heart racing. Luffy’s eyes were dark, his expression intense and unguarded in a way that made your knees go weak.

“Do you understand now?” he asked, his voice rough and low, his forehead resting against yours. “There’s no one else I want but you. You’re everything to me.”

You nodded, too breathless to speak, your hands still clutching his shirt as if he might disappear if you let go. Luffy’s lips curved into a small, almost wicked smile, and before you could react, he bent down and lifted you off your feet, throwing you over his shoulder as if you weighed nothing.

“Luffy!” you yelped, your voice a mix of surprise and laughter, but he only chuckled, his grip on you firm and secure.

“I think I need to remind you exactly how much I love you,” he said, his voice teasing but with an undercurrent of possessiveness that sent a thrill down your spine. “Let’s go somewhere more... private.”

You felt a shiver of anticipation run through you as he carried you toward the lower deck, his steps confident and sure. It was impossible to be annoyed at him now, not when his attention was so focused on you, not when he was holding you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

Luffy was yours. Completely, undeniably yours. And by the end of the night, there would be no room left for doubt.

[enaelyork]

Love all of your headcanons and posts!

What are your headcanons for being on the ship and thrown into another galaxy with Exile Thrawn?

Hiii i'm so so so sorry for delay ! I was sick and my work takes so many time. So here we are =D So many things to say about, so i decided to limit myself to the very beginning of the exile. Hoping you like it.

There's a lot of talk about officers appreciating and admiring Thrawn for his military prowess, but you're clearly not one of them. For you, Thrawn got to his position by luck and above all - and you must recognize this - because most Imperials are idiots.

However, you were assigned to the Chimaera, which did not help your good relations with your superior. You are also very surprised to see the calm with which he handles your protests. Because you are the first to contradict him, the first to never agree with him and... Very strangely, the one who spends the most time in his office.

When the incident took place, when the shock carried you and the entire ship into the unknown, you were unable to contain your anger. You were afraid, but above all, you were mad with rage against him who predicted everything and who was not able to anticipate this catastrophe.

The idea of ​​being stuck there, somewhere, far from everything with him is literally unbearable for you. Seriously ? You would rather end up in a sandy desert and die of thirst.

You notice that despite the fiasco you are the victim of, Thrawn remains surprisingly calm when observing the damage to the ship. Yet there is something hovering above him and you are unable to define it. It drives you crazy this constant indifference to everything that seems to happen to you because of him.

In your own way, you try to act to find a solution. You note the damage suffered by the ship, count the number of deaths. Discovering that some of your friends did not survive the shock is difficult for you to take. The worst ? Report it to your superior who remains impassive in the face of your distress and the seriousness of what is affecting you.

After several days of struggle, your body becomes exhausted as much as your mental strength. Nothing seems to allow you to be located by the Imperial forces. Nothing tells you where you got lost. Distraught, on the verge of a nervous breakdown, you notice that Thrawn is watching you.

And it’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back.

You walk up to him, your eyes filled with anger and tears, and throw your badges at his feet. Deciding that being far from the empire allows you to free yourself from its authority. You scream. You fume to see him so indifferent, so impassive while there are still lives to save on this ship, that the empire needs your help.

He lets you explode, remaining impassive in the face of your anger. The truth is that the anger you direct at him is also directed at you. You are unable to admit that despite all your efforts and the accumulated fatigue you are unable to find a reasonable solution.

You thought you would make him react by putting yourself in this state, but he just asks you if you are finished and leaves without another word.

At nightfall, when you have been in exile with him for several weeks now, you are wandering aimlessly in the carcass of the Chimaera when you notice a light on the main command deck. Thrawn's shadow casts over you as you sneak in to spy on him.

He looks defeated, the light from the holoprojection further stretching his already tired features. Even though he remains in a deep state of concentration, what you see on his face that evening upsets you more than you would like to admit.

Trouble. Disappointment. Pain. Guilt. Thrawn probably realizes that he will be stuck here for a long time and that he will miss important feats of arms for the empire. That he will be cut off from the world and his loved ones for much longer than expected.

And it breaks your heart.

On the holovid, you discover that the Grand Admiral has also put his time to good use. Rather than looking for a solution inside the ship, he has undertaken excavations outside and numerous symbols are projected onto the central table. Symbols that you have already seen in books when you were a student and which are not that foreign to you.

-Dathomir. You said in a breath. The look he gives you then petrifies you in a strange way. As if your heart had just stopped beating and started beating faster than normal. Had you ever realized the intensity of his gaze before this moment? You put these strange emotions down to fatigue before he speaks.

-Perhaps we have before us the solution to all our problems, lieutenant. He whispers in a monotone voice. You are stunned by the amount of work he has accomplished in such a short time and you are angry that you were so wrong.

-Will you help me? He ends up murmuring at your silence. That’s when you realize he hasn’t taken his eyes off you for many minutes. After a brief moment of hesitation, you end up nodding your head.

-I've never been very cooperative, but I'm willing to make an effort. You admitted slowly, eyes glued to the ground.

-Stay as you are. It’s your spirit that I’m going to need to bring us back. For your mind and your intelligence.

These words hit you like a crashing space cruiser. It’s violently sweet and you’re not sure your heart will survive it. Either way, you're convinced this is the start of something different. That this exil will introduce you to Grand Admiral Thrawn like no one has ever seen him.

[hologramcowboy]

Hello how are you? I don't know if you see the picture that Jensen shared for 4th July in Instagram I wonder your opinion

I don't follow Jensen on Insta but I did see the pictures via my friends.

Jensen looks awful tired and disconnected for someone who was on vacation and Elta looks smug and she is whoring him out as her prize, as always. That woman truly is incapable of love. At least, he has children that can love him unconditionally not as a prize, tropy, sex symbol, status symbol and all that nonsense.

Professionally, I would advise against posting family pictures on an account that is meant to promote his brand and types to his buyers. The more he does that the more he is diluting his already badly branded image. He is going to end up like Elta, uncastable. If you want to be seen as the top tier actor then act like one and be professional. Buyers care about your acting skills, types, professional knowledge and you being a trusthworthy professional. Actors who make amateur like posts end up looking like the wannabes they are. Look at Danneel, her career ended the moment she fakely tried to rebrand herself from the bitch/other woman to "mom of Jensen Ackles' babies". Casting didn't buy the image at all and her roles dried up fast. Not that she ever had any actually relevant roles to begin with. She's what lead actors call and extra lol In other words, she has about as much charisma as sandpaper.

Note for Jensen: Next time you want to sell fake happiness please make an effort, as an actor, to actually look like you are happy and in love otherwise people will just see things for the attention seeking desperate actor antic they are. 🤦🏼‍♀️

The Ackles lack class, chemistry and, most importantly, credibility.

I hope Jensen gets some actual rest at some point because he looks exhausted around his own family and that's just sad on every level.

My overall impression is that Jensen needs to get a clue about his image, direction and industry or he will end up as an extremely forgettable "actor". He will end up like Elta who is now relying on the fact that she is sleeping with Jensen to further her "producer" career. 🤣🤣🤣🤦🏼‍♀️

I'm very creeped out by their dynamic, sorry, anon, that's probably not what you wanted to hear. I am unimpressed by his lack of savvy when it comes to his own industry and there is something fishy about him I can't put my finger on. He is trying waaay too hard, perhaps covering something up? One thing's for sure, casting will not be impressed. They aren't looking for regular joes with families who go fishing, they are looking for capable, trustworthy leading men who are dedicated to their craft. Jensen needs to establish himself as that and only after make a few ON BRAND family posts, if he feels he absolutely must. An actor is a product and ruling people's fantasies is important, the more he signals "daddy day care with boring wife" the less attractive he will be to his buyers and to the people who create stars.

Seriously, this goes for all of us. Define what your objectives are and make your posts relevant to you being the person that embodies those objectives. If you must have a personal account then make it super private. Even company recruiters nowadays check everything online. Be smart. Brand yourself, stay constant and professional and watch opportunities open up. The people who are looking for your talents and skills are not looking to marry your family or join your drunken escapades with friends, they are looking to learn who you are, what you are about, how good you are at what you do and how trustworthy you are so please, keep your image clean and think of yourself as a product that can bring value to people because that's true, you have a lot to offer, you just need to showcase it more. 🧡 Family pictures are lovely but there's a right way to do things and then there's the layman, amateur way that will only end up diluting an actor's brand and types. Same goes for regular accounts, you can post about your family if that's what you are all about but it needs to be on brand and authentic.

I will never state this enough but as an actor you are not a regular person so please stop acting like one on social media, you are diluting your star power and castability. I know it's a hard truth to hear but people don't tune in to television to see regular people and regular drama, they can find that at the street corner. They tune in to see expectional people overcoming exceptional odds. If you've chosen a career path that involves YOU being the core image then be faithful to that and stop diluting your brand.

[elicyypher]

Hey Elias

The anon with the awful father again

This week he was a bit chill but still annoying and acted awful. He brought his brother and colleague again for a job. Of course there was more pretending and less working from them as usual. And of course there was drinking (not much of a surprise there). He also expected mom to make something for lunch for the colleague and the brother and she did it because is she wouldn’t, the asshole would be complaining again. There was also a day where they were supposed to come again (luckily they didn’t) and mom told my father that she won’t be sitting in the kitchen and cooking for 2 more people, cause normally when she cooks she does it for 4 people that lives in the house. And of course the idiot had a problem with it and started complaining, saying"Oh, such a big deal to make a bit more food for more people. Is not that much of a deal to do it". And my uncle and my father’s colleague are also nasty cause they take advantage of the fact my father lets them drink and the fact mom makes food. Then again, my father got them used to it. For others he’s gonna be all nice and has time for them (and later talks smack behind their back cause I heard him do it while talking to someone else on the phone many times), but for his family he has no time. Then on Friday an argument happened between me and my sister and I was really angry at her (she later apologized and we made up, so we’re good now), and this idiot clearly heard I was upset. You know what he did? He came downstairs laughing and was all like:"Why are you so angry? Why are you complaining so much?" He wasn’t taking this seriously at all. Bro, and you dare to call yourself a parent? If your kids are arguing, it is your job to be a parent and stop the conflict. And you should take this seriously instead of laughing and acting like this isn’t much of a deal. Especially when you see that one of them is or both of them are clearly upset. It felt like he wasn’t taking me seriously and acknowledging that I was upset. Then on Saturday there was party that dad and mom went to. Of course when they came back, he came back drunk and was complaining about mom for a bit and then he started complaining about other people from our surroundings. I was upstairs in my room then, pretending to be asleep cause I didn’t want to see his drunk face and listen to whatever bullshit he has to say. On Sunday, he was all nice and sweet (I wonder for how long he’s gonna be calm though 🙄), taking care of his hangover with more alcohol instead of water. And on Monday he was in bed all day, cause he didn’t feel well. Well at least Monday was pretty calm. I wonder how the rest of the week is gonna be.

Have a good day/night ✨

Take care of yourself 💕

hi anon :) i'm sorry for the late response. hope you're okay?

your dad’s behavior, the constant drinking, dismissiveness, and selfishness, must be so hard to deal with. i'm really sorry you're going through that.

and then there’s the way he treated you during your argument with your sister. for him to laugh when you were upset—you're right, it’s just so dismissive and hurtful. parents are supposed to step in, support their kids, and help resolve conflicts, not make you feel worse or like your emotions don’t matter. upsetting to hear that he doesn’t take you seriously, especially when you’re clearly trying so hard to hold things together.

you deserve to feel seen and heard, love. you deserve respect and care, especially from your own father.

i’m glad you and your sister were able to make up, though. good work on that :) that shows how strong the bond is between you two, even when things get tough. and i hope you both can continue to lean on each other

as for your dad, it sounds exhausting to deal with someone who constantly shifts between being 'nice' and being difficult. that rollercoaster of emotions he puts you through—one day being calm and the next causing chaos—must feel like it’s never-ending. it’s okay to feel angry about it, anon. it’s okay to feel tired and frustrated. it's okay to feel everything that's you are

you’re not wrong for wanting stability and peace in your home.

i just want to remind you how strong and incredible you are for making it through each day, even when it’s this hard. you’re kind, you care about your mom and family, and it’s clear you just want what’s best for everyone. don’t ever feel bad for needing to vent or feel frustrated. you’re allowed to feel this way, and you’re allowed to want better for yourself and your family.

please remember to take care of yourself too, even in small ways. whether it's just finding moments to take a breather, talking to someone you trust, or just giving yourself permission to feel everything you’re feeling—it’s okay. and if you ever need someone to listen, i’m always here for you. you’re not alone in this, anon, and you deserve all the love and support

[thefanficmonster]

Just Two Sad Roommates

Corpse Husband x Reader(Female)

Warnings: Swearing (maybe)

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Summary: The power of medieval tavern music gets put to the test when Corpse’s roommate is having a rough day. SPOILER ALERT: it’s more powerful than anyone could assume.

Requested by Anon. You know who you are 😊😋 Wish I could tag you, I loved this idea so much and had such a fun time writing it. Hope you enjoy it just as much 🥰

The last twenty four hours haven’t been so great. 

Last night I had a huge fight with my boyfriend over his flirty messages with several girls. It was not just witty banter, it was way more and way more hurtful to me. He obviously denied it and defended himself, at least in the beginning of the argument. Then he took on the accusatory stance, pointing fingers at me for living with another guy. That had me absolutely fuming. Not only was his statement fabricated and literally made up on the spot, but he also used some seriously horrible insults for him. I was having non of it. Corpse is a really great roommate, sweet guy and overall amazing person. I haven’t once argued with him since we’ve started living together. We’re actually quite good friends. So hearing my asshole boyfriend call him all those names was more than enough to chase him out of the apartment. Thankfully, Corpse wasn’t home to hear all that. He rarely leaves the apartment but by some miracle this was the time he was absent.

Then this morning my mom called me to have a chat. It started off decently enough but it only remained that way for so long. It didn’t take her long to start criticizing each and every element of my existence. From my job, my boyfriend, my living arrangement, the career I’ve decided to pursue, the fact I moved to a different state, my paycheck that’s lower than her friend’s daughter’s...…..You get the point. 

Now I’m sitting here, contemplating what the two years I’ve been in a relationship with Marcus mean to me. I guess it is just like a phone call from my mother - starts off nice but slowly deteriorates. All things follow this pattern in my life, apparently. And just like the phone calls, I’ve considered ending things between me and him many times but never actually decided on it. Until now. The last part of this decision is executing it, which doesn’t look very promising. My thumbs are frozen, hovering over the keyboard.

I take a second to take a look at my life from a third person point of view, like an out of body experience. I am wrapped in a blanket, huddled on the couch like a burrito with a face. A really sad burrito with a face. I have a job where I work as much as three highly ranked workers and get paid a little over a secretary’s paycheck. I’m in a constant state of exhaustion and disinterest. I often forget I’m human and just assume I can live like a cactus - no food, no water. I have a boyfriend that’s cheating on me and most likely has been for quite some time now. And we’ve been dating for two fucking years. Man, that must be the longest cheat streak in history. Who knows with how many girls as well. And I still have trouble deciding weather to break up with him or not. Actually no, scratch that, I have already decided, but it feel so unnatural and so out of character that my body refuses to complete the task of delivering the final blow to the structure of this relationship which was already weak to begin with.

And it only got weaker when I started catching feelings for another guy. I know, I know, I’m a bad person for that, but I was never planning to act on those feelings. They have always just...lingered, loomed over me. They got stronger and stronger every time Marcus and I would fight, as though they were laughing at my mock of a relationship.

Speaking of laughter, I hear my roommate laughing in his recording room. I gave him the spare room for his recording equipment for a cheap add to his rent fee and it’s probably the second best decision I’ve ever made - first being picking him to be my roommate. He was among the first to reply to my online add and appeared the least sketchy over the phone. More hypnotizing if I’m honest. He could’ve told me he was a hitman and I wouldn’t have batted an eye, handing the keys to his room and the apartment without a second thought. All he had to do was keep talking. Again, SUE ME.

“Fuck, I’m so fucking pathetic!“ I drop my phone when all the strings inside me snap, releasing the sobs and tears I’ve been holding back for so long.

I bring my knees up to my chest, hiding my head in between them, desperately trying to shield myself from the plane crash that is my life at the moment. Crying makes me feel even sadder and more miserable but I have nothing left to do to get all the crap that’s piled up inside me out.

I’m on the verge of falling asleep, the tears have dried and the sobs have died somewhere in my chest, when I hear what sounds like music straight from Robin Hood’s time. 

Holy shit, I’ve lost it

I lift my head from in-between my knees, looking around the living room for the source of the jolly, lighthearted tune which despite all the heaviness of my self-loathing makes me feel like the main character in an medieval adventure. Wait...Holy crap, it’s that medieval adventure, Robin Hood-ass music I hear from Corpse’s room!

I whip around to face the entrance from to the hallway where I see an arm sticking out, holding a phone which is where the music is coming from. 

“Corpse?“ I call out to him in a questioning manner, shifting to a sitting position with my blanket kicked off of me and bunched up next to me.

“I can’t tell if you’re angry or sad...or both. Didn’t want to get attacked upon entering the room.“ I see the right side of his face peek out as well.

I break out into laughter, covering my mouth with one hand, “You’re such a dork.”

He takes this as a sign to come in, pausing the music as he does so. “What’s wrong?”

My laugh stops but a smile remains on my face as I look at him. He just has that effect on me. “A lot. What’s going on with you?”

He shrugs his shoulders, plopping down on the couch, “The usual, streaming Among Us. You should play with me and my friends some time.”

I scoff, “I can pull of a lie no problem. Maybe I really should.” I don’t actually consider it, it’s just funny to think about. 

I have never watched any of Corpse’s content. Not his scary story videos, not his streams, not his animated compilations. Just his songs. And let me tell you...they are hella good. One song and I was hooked.

“Hey, I have a question.“ I tilt my head to look at him, “What’s with you and your love for medieval adventure music?“

“Medieval tavern music, and it’s not really love.“ He shakes his head with this dopey grin that is just. so. adorable. “More like a coping mechanism. Tell me, did you feel less sad I played it for you?“

I stop and think for a second. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Point made.“ He declares, leaving me to nod in amusement. “Now, tell me what that ‘a lot’ is.“

So, I do. I tell him everything, from how my boyfriend is cheating on me to how my mother thinks I’m a complete failure. He listens carefully, paying close attention to everything I’m saying. I catch myself laughing a few times while I retell the recent upsetting events.

Must be that music.

“So, you broke up?“ He asks once I end my monologue with a sigh

I shake my head disappointedly, “Not yet. I still haven’t pulled the plug. I don’t know what to say.”

He holds out his hand to me, “May I be of assistance?”

I look at his hand then at him and contemplate for only a second before deciding ‘what the hell’ and handing over my phone after unlocking it. The screen displays my boyfriend’s chat so Corpse just types away what he has in mind. Before pressing ‘send’, he hands the phone back to me. “Proofread it.”

‘Dear Marcus, this is one of your girlfriends speaking. Yes, one of them. You think I’m not onto what you’re doing, you little shit? Well, to your dismay, I am. And so, I discontinue this relation between us. That word might have been too long for your IQ so let me rephrase: We are over. Finished. Hope your other girlfriends wake up too, unless they are already in the know, of course. Love, but really hate, Y/N‘

I was never aware this level of sass even existed.

I add a smiling emoji and send the message, sighing in relief. “I can check that off my to-do list now.”

We both lean back on the couch, looking up at the ceiling. A moment of comfortable silence takes over, leaving us both wandering in our own heads.

“Hey, um, I wanted to do this when I first moved in, but then I met your boyfriend and I took the hint. Now that you’re single, would you want to...“ he sounds a bit uncertain but continues regardless, “It’s ridiculous cause I don’t really like the idea of going out, but maybe we could order take-out...“

“Are you circling around asking me on an at-home date?“ I am surprised by how unbothered I manage to sound while I’m squealing on the inside. It’s fascinating how quickly a person can flip someone’s day around. Turns out it wasn’t the music at all. It was him that had the positive effect on mine.

Out of the corner of my eye I catch his face turn red and have to contain my laughter. The grin can’t be tamed though, especially not when he says, “Yes.”

Internally squealing, I launch myself from the couch, standing up straight in front of him. “Thai. My usual order is on the sticky note on the fridge. But first,” I offer him my hand, “I need to find out if a person can even dance to that ridiculous music.” At his amusement, my grin widens, “May I have this dance?”

He laughs that adorable laugh of his I’ve only heard through the layer of a wooden door. It’s even cuter when there’s nothing between me and its source. The source is cute too, not gonna lie.

With a shake of his head which is most likely disbelief, he takes the hand I’ve offered him, saying: “And you call me a dork.” 

@susceptible-but-siriusexual  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @hacker-ghost  @itsminniekat  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze

[scrawnytreedemon]

Victor Frankenstein and Frustration: a Not-Essay, because I can’t structure for shit.

Alright, I’ll try to keep it as clean and concise as I can, but at the end of the day this is a sorta-heat-in-the-moment thing I’m writing while all the ideas and motivation are in me yet. I will be jumping around alot of topics, as this covers alot of ground, but I can’t say I’ll do it with grace: for this, I apologise.

I’ve noticed a trend in online lit fandom, not just on Tumblr, to condense Victor’s character to something roughly following “arrogant, ineffectual and selfish weenie who failed horribly at parenting, who ought not to be taken seriously in any significant way, largely in-due to his constant whining“ --In other words, a right twat.

And here’s the thing: largely, I agree.

However, what I take issue with, I suppose, is largely how this is all framed.

See, fandom has a tendency to sort characters into boxes, and then pick favourites or bête noires from that selection; this is helpful for the largely memetic(as in, shareable,) nature of online spaces; but where I think this thinking falls short is that it tends to divide casts into More Good or More Evil, with little room for nuance.

I think you can see where I’m going with this.

Victor Frankenstein, by all accounts, is an incredibly frustrating character to witness; he gets way in over his head, isolates himself from his loved ones, leaving them worried, deems those ambitions failed, hides from them, then when shit starts hitting the fan, he takes initial actions to try and mitigate the consequence, hits a roadblock, either stops their or chooses an even worse option, someone else gets hurt, he whines, rinse and repeat until the final act of the book, as the stakes get higher and higher and his mental state deteriorates more, and more, and more. If you look at this entirely from an outsiders’ perspective, as you, the audience, being subjected to his moaning time and time again, it can wear on you and your sympathies-- Needless to say, I Get It™.

I think, however, it needs be remarked that Victor is also just some guy. 

What I feel is often missed, is that even before Victor goes to university, he has just suffered the loss of his mother, with little time to recover, and that all of this is being told in hindsight, on his deathbed.

When Victor took on, all by himself, at twenty-two years old, not even letting anyone else know what he was up to, the monumental task of creating life, and then finding that life horribly botched, he did not have the perspective that what he created was equivalent to a newborn child-- For all he knew, he might have animated an actual demon. It isn’t until two years later, after the death of his little brother at the hands of said demon, the he’s even remotely made aware of this.

Victor had worn himself out over the course of several months, physically and mentally, to this one task. He was not equipped to deal witht he consequences. I do not say this to downplay the weight of his actions, or the horrible mess of events that come afterwards, but to state perspective. Victor does not have the hindsight we have at the time of this act. I cannot stress this enough. As much as I enjoy Deadbeat Dad Vick jokes, I get the feeling many people actually view the story from this lens, and hold Victor up to that standard.

Then there’s the trial of Justine: a horrible, useless, unneeded and avoidable affair that ends in even more senseless death. This is where alot of people’s sympathy for Victor runs out-- For more than understandable reasons. He failed to act accordingly, to share the information he had, deeming it to be either dismissed instantly or for himself to be put under scrutiny; it’s clear he’s passionate about Justine’s innocence, but he cannot push himself past his fear and doubt, and ultimately, it ends in her death.

It is a horrible, horrible moment, and one that cements the tone of the story from there on out.

These are two key events that largely colour this image of Victor so prevelant online; and it certainly doesn’t help, what with fandom being almost aggressively left-leaning at times, that Victor comes from a place of privilege; he is almost tailor-made to push all the buttons of fandom sensitivities.

Let me elaborate.

A key feature of Victor’s character is his complete and utter inability to ask for help; no matter how dire the situation. Victor feels, that, despite and even because of his incompetence, that it is his cross and his cross alone to bear. Any inolvement from others, such as Clerval when he heads to England, is hesitant and highly discouraged, even when he wants nothing more than to partake in the company of his loved ones, after all he’s been through. While it is also heavily coloured by the anguished sentiment that borders on self-absorption so much of the time, I think it is also worthy to examine this too.

Victor’s tendency to indulge in self-pity and self-loathing is nigh, if not entirely, all-consuming; it pervades the narrative to a painful degree, particularly as it comes from his recollections; it is often exhausting to read through, and nigh unbearable if you already hold a disdane from his previous actions; but here’s the thing I think most people miss,

Victor is depressed.

I don’t mean “ooh, he’s so sad, leave him alone 🥺,“ I mean the guy is fucking depressed, stuck in a constant cycle of attempting to make do but failing, hating himself even more, letting it consume him because he at once feels like he deserves to be consumed and it’s the only thing he can do then and there to soothe to pain as shit gets worse and worse.

Victor Frankenstein’s internal monolgue is a prime example of deep-seated, far-gone depression, and I say this because I myself have experienced and do experience this. Depression is fucking soul-sucking, man; it turns you in on yourself, makes you feel entirely undeserving of love and compassion, leaves you feeling like you must, have to, deal with this entirely by yourself because it is your cross to bear.

Depression is so often self-flagellating and pointless, leaving the subject drained and often largely unable to experience the world outside their own miserable little bubble.

Victor is so wrapped up in this soul-sucking guilt, attempting to fight his own ineffectuality and in doing so only furthering his own ineffectuality, refusing to ask for help, that he ends up putting the ones he’s trying to protect in further danger as he tries to scramble a hodge-podge solution to the problem he created and couldn’t have even begun to forsee its consequences at twenty-two years old. It is a painful, painful example of how if only he reached out, if only he told someone, was honest, all of this could have been avoided, or at least mitigated.

And I think that’s the thing with Victor.

He’s a kind of banal evil-- If such continuous stumbling can even be considered so --He is an example of every day self-isolation and refusal to let anyone else in ballooning to such a degree it ends in distaster.

People are far, far more willing to forgive Adam for his transgressions-- And I say this as someone far more sympathetic to his plight, what with the absolute abandonment he faced at the hands of humanity --Despite their far more horrific consequences; in many ways, they’re attributed to Victor’s failing; which isn’t entirely untrue,

But I have to wonder, if alot of this also comes down to the fact that Victor’s wrongdoings are so human; leaving someone in your care behind; not speaking up in cases of injustice; being self-involved; again, the constant whining. In a way, it’s the sentiment that in stories a horrible person is often far more bearable than an annoying one.

That doesn’t even begin to touch on how much of the bemoaning might largely be and often is directly post-hoc regret colouring all his previous actions. This, above all else, is a cautionary tale to a fellow idealist in the hopes that Robert Walton doesn’t Fuck Up the way he did. Victor stresses his regret and his failings and his misery time and time again because he wants to protect Robert from a similar fate; a fate that ultimately ends in his death.

Victor Frankenstein is a study in frustration; in audience frustration, self-frustration, narrative frustration; it seeps into every corner of the story.

I am not trying to defend Victor Frankenstein as a person; he is flawed; and he’s meant to be flawed. Victor, at the end of the day, is a deconstruction of the Byronic hero-- Of Great and Powerful Men on the Fronteers of History™-- And most importantly, I think, a deconstruction he himself undergoes. Victor eventually alerts someone, a Genevan magistrate, is doubted just as he feared, and then runs off to take revenge into his own hands.

It takes the death of Elizabeth Lavenza to do so.

Victor is a flawed, miserable man, but not an evil one. That doesn’t mean he deserved to have his life crumble around him.

He could have done better. Should have done better.

And he knows this.

His entire arc is about how he knows this.

Victor dies knowing this.

Him being unlikable doesn’t make him a bad character. Him being unlikable is part of the character; and in a meaningful way.

God, I don’t know how to end this. I’ll probably come back and edit this many, many times.

I guess I’m just tired of people flattening characters just because they’re not particularly endearing.

[writemekpop]

Lost Connection | Nakamoto Yuta

Pairing: Nakamoto Yuta x Reader

Category: Angst

Summary: When you’re with Yuta, it’s like a dream. But now you’re oceans apart and he’s slipping away with every passing hour. The fate of your relationship hangs on one video call. Will you find a way to fix your lost connection?

Word count: 1.7k

You never quite understood why Yuta loved the rain.

Whenever it rained on your dates, Yuta would run outside and stand in the middle of the street, spreading his arms out and letting the droplets caress his smiling face. Then, he would sprint back to you with arms outstretched to engulf you in a hug, and you’d squeal and push him away, not wanting to get wet.

It was raining today - you could see the beads of water pelting onto the windows of your bedroom. Normally, you would have grumbled at the gloomy view and Yuta would have pulled you close and softly kissed your eyelids, so you didn’t have to see it.

But Yuta wasn’t here today.

It had been four months since he’d last returned to your shared apartment in Osaka. His schedule had been particularly busy this year, so he hadn’t had the chance.

Yuta’s hair was getting longer now, you’d seen it in the press pictures and the occasional selfies he’d send you. But with him being in Korea and you stuck in Japan, you hadn’t been able to run your fingers through it like you wanted.

You craved Yuta’s presence again – you missed the way he would flex his biceps under your dancing fingers and give you that knowing smirk as you rolled your eyes and giggled, tilting your head to the side and allowing him to press his lips to your neck.

But that was then.

Sometimes you loathed SM Entertainment for making you resettle in Japan. But all the hate you were getting after your relationship was exposed was getting too much for you to handle. This way, you could live a somewhat normal life whilst maintaining your relationship with Yuta. Luckily, your job allowed you to work remotely from anywhere as long as you had your laptop.

Your apartment was only ten minutes away from Yuta’s family home, and the both of you would often go there to have dinner. This set-up had worked quite well in the past, but lately Yuta’s trips home had gotten less frequent, and the once constant stream of texts and voice messages between the two of you had slowed to a trickle.

You left the bedroom you two shared, growing tired of seeing the empty place on the bed where he would normally lay sprawled. You trudged slowly through the sliding doors to the living room where your phone lay on the couch.

You and Yuta were supposed to video chat tonight, and you’d spent the first part of the evening making sure your makeup and outfit was perfect. You hadn’t straightened your hair like you normally do, because you know how much Yuta loves it natural.

At 9pm, the time you were supposed to have your “date”, you received a text from him saying: I can’t make it just yet, please wait for me. And so, you did.

That was four hours ago.

It’s now past midnight - your makeup is getting smudged and the exhaustion from the week is threatening to take over your body. You reach tentatively towards the phone to see if he has messaged, and as you do you see the familiar caller ID flash upon the screen.

You feel your pulse race as you sit down on the navy couch you picked out together last winter and accept his call. After a few seconds of static the video connects, and you finally get to see his face.

Both of you hesitate - not really knowing what to say to each other at first, and you use opportunity to take in his features. Yuta’s blonde hair is messy from all the times he must have run his fingers through it, and his face is glistening with sweat. He looks exhausted, and you swear his cheeks are getting more and more hollow each time you see him.

As you scan his appearance you feel a pang deep in your chest - you’d spent the whole evening feeling pretty sorry for yourself for having a boyfriend who was too busy to talk to you, but seeing his worn out form though the screen made you realise just how hard he’d been working lately.

“I’m sorry,” he said, after a deep sigh.

“Don’t worry about it,” you replied smiling weakly, silently praying that the tears that threatened to fall onto your cheeks stayed put.

“The company has a whole new agenda, so they’re making us stay late. I tried to get out for a few minutes, but I felt bad leaving the others. Jaehyun had to miss his dad’s birthday dinner tonight,” he said, shrugging wearily.

That was Yuta for you - always so considerate of the people around him. That was one of the reasons you fell in love with him in the first place.

Lately you’d found yourself feeling more and more alone. Sure, Yuta’s family were more than welcoming, but Japan never really felt like home to you. All your friends were either in Seoul, where you’d spent the last four years at university, or London, where you were born. Plus, your Japanese was weak at best, so you found making friends here difficult.

When Yuta was with you, however, all your worries would melt away. You could lie comfortably with your head on his chest for hours, just listening to his heartbeat whilst he absentmindedly drew patterns on your skin with his long fingers.

Yesterday you’d gotten a call from your mother saying that your niece had been born. You had felt so bad for not visiting your sister during the whole of her pregnancy, so you really wanted to go to England to be with her.

You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“When are you going to come home?” You asked hesitantly, “Koko misses you…” You looked down at Yuta’s cat who was pawing at the hem of your midnight blue slip. You cursed at yourself internally and wondered why you’d made such an effort to dress up tonight - after all, what was the point? You had picked out this delicate piece because it was a Christmas gift from Yuta and you hadn’t had a chance to wear it for him yet, but suddenly you felt silly and exposed.

“Do you think you’ll be able to visit in the next few weeks?” you asked, carefully monitoring the tone of your voice so as not to sound too hopeful - you didn’t want to cause him unnecessary pain if he couldn’t make it.

“I really wish I could, but I don’t think so,” he replied automatically, not meeting your gaze.

Unable to control your emotions any longer, you huffed in anger and whispered “Typical,” under your breath, just loud enough to be sure that he would hear. The trip back to England was looking more and more appealing now.

Yuta instantly frowned. “Look, you know I have a busy job. If you’re going to be like this again then I’m just going to hang up. I’m sick and tired of you acting like this, you’re the one who agreed to move to Japan in the first place!” he snapped, glaring at you through the phone.

You knew Yuta didn’t mean to be this harsh - you guessed he was just as fed up and lonely as you were. Lately, whenever you two talked it always ended up in a shouting match. You had promised yourself that this time would be different, but the anger had been welling for days now and you just couldn’t help it.

Tears singed your eyes. You didn’t say anything, knowing that your voice would break if you did.

Yuta calmed down within a few seconds, his look of resentment transforming into one of concern. “I’m sorry baby,” he said. “I’ve just been so stressed out lately. Please hold on a bit longer, I’m sure my schedule will calm down in a month or so”.

You didn’t know if he was lying to you or to himself. You truly wanted to believe him, but you’d heard the same line a million times before and you were seriously starting to miss your family.

“I think I’m going to go home for a while,” you mumbled under your breath. Yuta’s brow furrowed at your statement. “But you are home…” he replied cautiously.

“I mean my real home,” you retorted, your voice coming out a little sharper than you’d intended. You know that those words would hurt Yuta, but you’d already sacrificed so much to cater to his idol life that you were too tired to care.

“Ok… well, come back soon,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck and looking at the floor. You swear you could see his eyes glistening.

“Of course I will Yuta…” you murmured in response, “but will you be here when I get back?”

Yuta pursed his lips into a line and said nothing. He didn’t have to; you knew what the answer was. He pressed the red button and hung up without saying a word, leaving your now tear-stricken reflection staring back at you from the black screen of your phone.

You wasted no time in gathering your things and booking a flight. The next morning, you dropped Koko off to Yuta’s mother, who gave you a concerned smile and a long hug goodbye.

At the airport your heart twinged when you saw the flights to Seoul. You wished you could just go and be with him, but you knew you’d be harassed the moment you stepped foot in Korea. You were thankful that his fans in Japan were gracious enough to leave you alone.

You took a deep breath and followed the signs to your plane.

Finally, you thought, I’m going home.

[struwwelzeter]

Stripped Making Of (not so) Liveblog, actually more of an aimless ramble

Ah the stripped video. One of my absolute favorites.The one I could say so much about and at the same time am so exhausted by even thinking about it ...

But basically this is why I don’t trust Philipp Stölzl. Because I honestly don’t buy that he couldn’t explain to them how controversial Leni Riefenstahl Material would be. I do buy that they were fairly unfamiliar, lots of people were and still are, and especially with their background, I think they genuinely might have not understood. But him? I mean in order to even think of that material he had to have known. And like, that means he is either way too comfortable with her proximity to the NSDAP, or he genuinely kind of just assumed that they knew what they were letting themselves in for. And that’s assuming a pretty arrogant position to be honest. I know he initially wanted to refilm all that but I genuinly don’t think that if he had explained to them more in-depth what this means that they would have still used it. Not with them always being so upset at being seen as right wing. @msgwendolenfairfax recently said something like that he’s jerking off to his own intellectualism, and ever since I do believe it’s mostly that, that he just assumed this “it’s an aesthetic choice, not a political one” position which I am very much on board with in principle, but in practice was letting the band walk into open fire imo. I mean I looked, and he has a clean reputation otherwise, so I do believe it must have been that. Which - giving him the benefit of a doubt - could have just been because he comes from a very intellectual (theatrical) background, that’s what he does nowadays, so it could have been genuine mistake, —- kind of expecting more from the audience than it could deliver, but really? A mistake that big? Why, Philip? It’s entirely possible that I read wayyyyy way too much into it, but like, I have seen people fired for a lot less in this country and I am just so suspicious.

All that being said, that video IS brilliant aesthetically, and anyone who wants to dispute Riefenstahls accomplishments because of it’s evil purposes completely misses the point to be honest. Some of these shots are filmed in a way that would be rare and astonishing even today. My grandmother was only a couple of years younger than her and one of the two first female students at the Munich School for Photography, and she was accused weekly of being too stupid for a camera. That’s the time we are talking about. She might have been a dirty opportunitist, but how much can you really blame her. Can you imagine saying no to these opportunities as a woman, with a camera, during that time? Honestly? People give Albert Speer more slack than her and it’s. Suspicious, let’s leave it at that.

Back to the actual making of, I should update on how my Depeche Mode exploration is going perhaps. I love those “works for everyone” acts, I mean how many of these are there even? What is comparable from later on? Gorillaz? Wu Tang Clan? Billie Eilish?

Richard being a smiling fan boy makes me squeal internally. I am making horcruxing a verb, because him hiding liking pop music is basically me hiding my Eminem records and my classical CDs from my punk friends and I start to be convinced he just flung a bit of his soul around he accidentally splintered off during the chaos of reunification and I had to catch it like the idiot I am.

God, them trying so hard to do it justice makes my heart so full. Schneider is so genuine, and look at Richard smiling, he’s so into that challenge I ... moving on, ok.

I think the stripped ... down to the bone might have been so hard for Till because it covers quite a big range from beginning to end of the line, and he doesn’t normally do that. Like it would be a fluid change from where his voice needs to sit in the beginning to where it sits in the end of it? Because in principle he should be able to hit it I think ...

Yeah see, they didn’t think about the consequences. But they should have and I genuinly do not understand why noone stepped in and made them.

I love how unwilling to compromise Paul is here. I mean I 100% agree with him, and to be honest I don’t think they should have decided against using it, it’s just that they seemed to have been so unaware of what they are using that makes me pause.

See I actully like how Stölzl explains this here. If you take those images on their own and recontextualize it, there is nothing wrong about it whatsover. And doing just that is an art historical constant. It’s just difficult because most people aren’t art historians and can’t sort their instincts away from objectivity. It’s a weird mix of simultaneously knowing too much and too little that makes cases like this so difficult.

See that’s the thing, yes there were (and are) alot of debates about the “who are we and how are we gonna deal with this legacy” thing, but just blindly starting that experiment slightly puts the answer before the question, or? And again, if this would have been a conscious decision of everyone involved I am all for it and I agree, but it just seriously seemed like that wasn’t the case? Or alternatively if he just stumbled over rolls of film and used it, that would’ve been fine too.

The aesthetic commonalities of Nazi Germany and the Warsaw Pact countries could send me into a whole other tangent but I’m gonna shut up about it other than “YES”, because I’m not actually knowledgeable enough about it.

God, I feel so sad for them for that fallout. :(

Yeah, Richard’s right. It is a pity that knowing that fallout going in, you wouldn’t make that video. So maybe it is a good thing in a way that it happened that way, because it is an aesthetic masterpiece, that otherwise would not exist. The ideal state would be when we could make a video like that, fully knowing what it means, and still being able to do it because the majority of people would understand how semiotics work, but I mean utopia isn’t real so.

God honestly ... that conflict of aesthetics and their emotional impact vs their history can fill dissertations (and already does), and it’s truly one of those things our society needs to learn to give people the individual freedom to draw those lines in the sand for themselves. It honestly goes both ways, people say “it’s not like the nazis” because it doesn’t wear neat uniforms but dirty shirts and red caps, and they say it causes school shootings even tho school shootings are caused by bullying and the music we listen to has probably helped more bully victim survive and stay sane than anything, and it’s all part of a huge “I think I understand something based on what it looks like and use that as a quick escape from actually making the effort to understand what it is” delusion.

Yeah see, Stölzl referencing the darkness and crossing of limits - he KNEW what he was doing. He completely derails his own argument, first he says those images are only negative if you know what they came from like it’s two completely seperate things and then he goes ���yeah the darkness was needed” ... the darkness you only know if you know where it comes from ... ? What’s it gonna be Philip? I mean I can follow both arguments but like, using both simultaneously seems a bit ... hmm.

Aww Schneider and Paul being proud boys, look at them. It’s funny how Paul “I want to fling shit in everybody’s face” Landers actually gets quite flustered when people he likes love his stuff, no? He reacts the most impressed with the Lost Highway thing aswell, it’s really quite endearing.

I think I rambled on without conclusion even worse than usual but in fairness it’s a very complex issue. TL;DR: I wish they would have made that video knowing what they let themselves in for, because I do think it would have made the fallout easier to bear and I wish that hadn’t happened to them. Does that make sense? At some point very far into the future I will want to write an actual essay about this but we can jot this down as initial brainstorm before you jump on me with arguments I missed, ok! (Seriously tho, please discuss this with me I need arguments that aren’t my own to sharpen my opinion)

https://youtu.be/mImuguOghRM

[hopesilverheart]

Christmas Elves and Candy Canes

(read on ao3)

Pairing: Clary/Izzy Rated: Gen Summary: “Is it just me, or have you been eyeing the elf from the mall entrance?” Alec smirked, glancing between the girl and Isabelle a few times with raised eyebrows. “You know I’m not one to judge but… really? She’s an elf, Isabelle.”

“I highly doubt that those ears are real, Alexander,” Izzy rolled her eyes. “And I haven’t been eyeing anyone. I just find it curious that we’ve already crossed paths with her three times. We’ve only been here for a little over an hour, and this mall is very big.”

Or: Isabelle might have a thing for the Christmas elf at the mall (just maybe).

For the @malecdiscordserver Advent Calendar

The girl had been there all afternoon. 

Isabelle had first spotted her when she and Alec had walked into the mall, intent on finding gifts for their parents; she’d been standing right in front of the doors, a bright smile on her flushed face and adorable elf ears framing her face.

Alec had mentioned how grateful he was that they’d never had to take a job as Christmas workers at a shopping mall, but Isabelle had been far too distracted by how pretty the elf was. Not that she’d told her brother that. He had enough reason to tease her as it was; the last thing she wanted was for him to realise that redheads with cute eyes and freckles were exactly her type. He’d try to set her up at every occasion, and she did not need that kind of constant embarrassment. 

However, she’d found it increasingly harder not to let her gaze stray to the red-haired girl as they’d passed her once, then twice, then thrice as they shopped. Alec hadn’t commented on it yet, but Izzy knew it was only a matter of time. He’d been too focused on Magnus’ gift to pay attention to his surroundings, but now that his boyfriend’s Christmas present had been found, Izzy knew she was in trouble. 

She gave him thirty seconds to-

“Is it just me, or have you been eyeing the elf from the mall entrance?” Alec smirked, glancing between the girl and Isabelle a few times with raised eyebrows. “You know I’m not one to judge but… really? She’s an elf, Isabelle.”

“I highly doubt that those ears are real, Alexander,” Izzy rolled her eyes. “And I haven’t been eyeing anyone. I just find it curious that we’ve already crossed paths with her three times. We’ve only been here for a little over an hour, and this mall is very big.”

“Are you implying that we have a stalker?” Alec mock-whispered, chuckling when Isabelle nudged his ribs hard. “I’m kidding! But just so we’re clear, I don’t buy your excuse at all. You think she’s pretty, don’t you?”

“Only a fool would say no to that,” Izzy pointed out. “Well, fools and gay men, maybe. Although even you should be able to see how beautiful she is, elf ears and all.”

“So you do have a thing for elves,” Alec cackled, dodging Izzy’s second nudge expertly. “Seriously, if you think she’s that cute, maybe you should just go talk to her. I’m sure she’s dying for a break from whatever tedious job she has today. I know I would be if I had to deal with so many people in so little time.”

“That’s because you don’t know how to act around people,” Izzy piped up with a grin, ignoring her brother’s responding glare. “And as great as your plan sounds, I’m not sure she’d be half as happy as you seem to think she would be. The last thing I would want after trying to sell candy canes for hours is for someone to accost me and distract me from my job.”

“She’s selling candy canes?” Alec’s eyes lit up. “Izzy, you’ve got to talk to her. Maybe if you flirt enough, you can get a few free treats. I promise I’ll come save you if she looks like she’s about to kill you.”

“I don’t even like candy canes,” Izzy frowned. “They taste terrible.”

“First of all, that’s a bold statement to make around me and you know it,” Alec raised his eyebrows, looking distinctly unimpressed. Izzy had to bite back a laugh at how serious he looked, wishing she had a camera at hand to take a picture for Magnus. “Secondly, the candy canes won’t be for you. Lastly and most importantly, you don’t need to like candy canes; you already like the girl who’s selling them.”

“I don’t-” Isabelle cut herself off as Alec levelled her with the most disbelieving look she’d ever seen.

So maybe he had a point. The redhead was prettier than any woman Izzy had ever met, and she seemed too sweet and happy not to be kind, and she was just right there, looking like she was trying her best not to let the smile drop from her face. Isabelle was a strong woman most of the time, but when it came to adorable girls? Yeah, she’d been screwed from the start. 

“I’m not getting you any candy canes,” she announced loudly as she strode away from Alec and headed straight for the mall worker. 

The ginger girl had stepped away from the sea of people, propping herself against a shop wall and half heartedly twirling a candy cane between her fingers. The smile hadn’t vanished from her features, but it looked far softer and tired than it had a few moments earlier; not that Izzy could blame her, given how exhausting her job had to be. 

Steeling herself for rejection, Izzy took a deep breath and closed the last few feet that separated her from the woman. 

“Hi!” She announced as cheerfully and confidently as she could manage. The other woman startled slightly, her gaze snapping to Isabelle and her jaw dropping slightly as she finally spotted her. Izzy would be lying if she said she didn’t preen a little at the obvious awe in the redhead’s eyes. 

“Um, hi?” The girl said after a moment of silence and a slightly awkward clearing of her throat. “I’m sorry, did you want a candy cane? I’m kind of on a break, not that my manager knows that, and I hardly get any of those on busy days, and I’m not exactly in character at the moment…”

“That’s fine,” Izzy assured her quickly, sending her what she hoped was a soothing smile. “I’m not here to buy anything. I just- Well, I noticed you when my brother and I first came in, and then you kept popping up near the shops we stopped at and it felt like too much of a pattern for it to be a coincidence. Besides, you’re very pretty.”

She blurted out the last words before her brain could catch up with her mouth, and she cursed internally at the stricken look on the girl’s face. Sometimes, she wished she could be a little smoother when it mattered. Sure, she could charm the pants off her parents’ clients, but what was that worth if she couldn’t even keep it together while introducing herself to a woman? No wonder she was still single. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to- That was completely inappropriate,” she added when the other girl didn’t say anything. “You must get hit on all the time by strangers and here I am doing the exact same thing, even though you told me you hardly got any breaks. I’m sorry, I’ll just...”

“I don’t mind,” the girl blushed brightly, glancing up at Izzy through her lashes. A sheepish smile tugged at her lips, and Isabelle almost melted on the spot. “I’m mostly approached by parents and kids, so I don’t get hit on even half as much as you seem to think I do. Besides, us elves have a signal in case we’re getting harassed.”

“You do?” Isabelle asked, impressed by the thought the mall had put into the wellbeing of their workers.

“Absolutely not,” the girl burst out laughing. “But my best friend works here too and I have him on speed dial. He also checks on me once in a while to make sure I haven’t gotten kidnapped or murdered or anything of the sort. I promise you I would be more than capable of sending you packing if I minded your presence.”

“Oh,” Izzy said softly. “So you mean to say that-”

“That I don’t mind your presence, yes,” the redhead snorted. “It’s not every day I get to talk to someone as beautiful as you. Do you happen to have a name, or am I going to have to refer to you as the ‘pretty brunette shopper I met at work one time’ for the rest of my life?” 

“I don’t know, I think that title suits me quite well,” Isabelle grinned, holding her hand out for the other woman to shake. “I’m Isabelle, Izzy for short.”

“Clary,” the redhead answered, holding onto Izzy’s hand for a little longer than was probably appropriate. Not that Isabelle minded in the slightest. “Do you have anything to do with the man who’s been staring at us intensely for the last three minutes, or am I going to have to call security on a stalker?”

“Who are you- oh, yeah, that’s my brother,” Izzy rolled her eyes, waving at Alec briefly before turning back towards Clary. “I should probably get back to him actually, but is there any way I could get your number, maybe?”

Before she could even finish her question, Clary was slipping a sketchpad and pencil out of her shoulder bag, scribbling what Isabelle assumed was a number on a ripped up piece of paper before tying it to the candy cane she’d been playing with. 

“Does this work?” She asked with a shy smile as she handed the candy cane to Izzy. 

“Perfectly,” Isabelle breathed out. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Clary.”

“And you too, Izzy,” the redhead beamed. “Have a lovely afternoon!”

After such a wonderful interaction, Izzy didn’t doubt that her afternoon would be very lovely indeed. Maybe she would even force herself to enjoy the candy cane Clary had gifted her, if only out of respect. After all, she wouldn’t want to disappoint Clary by offering her present to someone else, no matter how excited Alec looked at the prospect of a candy cane.

[aventurasdeunatortuga]

Laredo Part 2

Week 1

Hey friends,

After a long travel hiatus, as some of you may already know, I am back in Laredo, Texas. I’ll be here for about 3.5 weeks working with shelters to support recently arrived asylum seekers at the US Mexico border. I was here 2 years ago doing the same thing, you can go through the laredo tag on here to get some more background about what is going on here and to read about my experiences in 2019.

I have been here already for about a week and have been so exhausted I haven’t had the energy to write anything, but here is more or less what is going on.

So since Fall of 2019, the border was closed to all asylum seekers thanks to 45’s cruel Remain In Mexico policy, which forced asylum seekers from Central America to wait along the Mexican border for an undetermined amount of time until they could get an immigration hearing. In the past asylum seekers could wait with their families in the US for their court dates (it can be a long wait). Waiting at the border in Mexico, a country they are not from, left folks vulnerable to human trafficking, kidnapping, gang violence, and extortion from the cartels operating along the border. During COVID folks were living in makeshift tents along the border with no running water and were left vulnerable to exposure, flooding, disease, dangerous wildlife, and the millions of other dangers that come from being outside in 113 degree heat with no water. There was no international aid brought in and support was limited to the few aid workers allowed to cross the border, which was very dangerous given the amount of gang violence on the Mexican side. One shelter director in Nuevo Laredo was kidnapped and murdered last year.

When Biden was elected, he reversed the Remain In Mexico policy just a few weeks into his presidency. Meaning that asylum seekers could now enter the US after surrendering at the border and being held for indeterminate amounts of time in ICE detention centers. Once they are released from there they are given a court date in wherever their final destination in the US is, but are left on the street with nothing.

Most folks are illiterate, none speak English and some only speak indigenous dialects. All of their possessions and money have been taken by either cartels or by ICE. Most havent eaten in days and many are seriously ill. None of them know where they are or how to get where they’re going. ICE will drop them off at random towns along the border after releasing them from detention, sometimes hundreds of miles from where they crossed. They just have a name and phone number memorized of a friend or family member in the US that is sponsoring them and who they are planning to stay with.

The vast majority of folks are from Central America, they are fleeing cartel violence , government persecution, extreme poverty, and natural disasters caused by climate change. The instability in these countries (Guatemala, Honduras, Nicaragua, and El Salvador) was caused directly by US intervention, but that’s a whole other topic I won’t get into now. Folks must show a credible proof of being threatened or persecuted in their home country to even be granted the status of asylum seeker and to be given a court date.

Shelters in border towns do what they can to support folks being released from detention. They help them make phone calls, provide translation, help them buy bus and plane tickets, give them food, water, medical care, showers, clean clothes, toiletries, and a safe place to sleep until they are able to make travel arrangements to their final destinations.

During the last 2 years under the Remain In Mexico policy, no one was being admitted and so shelters lost a great deal of funding, staff, and volunteers. They turned more towards community work, which was especially needed during COVID.

Shelters are in a difficult position now though, folks are allowed to enter now which is good news but shelters are having to meet even more extreme needs with far fewer resources than they had pre-COVID.

For a long time the shelter I worked with before, La Frontera, was closed due to lack of funding; but only very recently reopened again. I have been spreading my time between La Frontera (run by Catholic charities) and the other shelter in Laredo, Holding Institute Community Center, which is a community center run by the Methodist Church. Both of these shelters have 2-3 paid staff members, a revolving door of volunteers from around the country (the majority of them nuns), are entirely donation based, and receive 200-300 new people every single day.

About 20-30% of each busload of people that ICE drops off are infected with COVID. ICE refuses to test folks that they detain for COVID because if they knew they had positive cases they would have to provide healthcare and a place for them to quarantine. Instead they lump everyone together in cramped conditions and COVID is allowed to run rampant in these detention centers.

In detention folks are kept in overcrowded rooms, communicated with almost exclusively in English, are provided limited food and toiletries, and are kept in refrigerated rooms (65 degrees) with no blankets. These places are called the ‘ice boxes’. Sometimes folks are separated from their families here as well.

Lately there has also been a dysentery outbreak due to the fact that the city of Laredo does not currently have drinkable water, residents are advised to drink only bottled or boiled water, which asylum seekers do not have access to until they reach the shelters.

When folks reach the shelters, they are given on the spot covid tests by a team of nurses and public health officials. There is no room for them at the hospitals, even if there were room hospitals wouldnt accept them because they have no insurance. The city government has offered bottled water to the shelters but thats it.

After being tested for covid, the health team divides folks into 2 groups, positive and negative. Folks who test positive have to quarantine for 10 days in an empty warehouse next door to the shelter or if they’re lucky and the shelter can afford it, a motel. Yesterday the shelter bought out a motel because there were 200+ covid patients who arrived. We have two small classrooms at the shelter that have been converted into sleeping areas for about 40 covid patients. The medical team leaves boxes of food and clothing outside their door, and once a day they are taken to shower and then the entire bathroom is sanitized.

Those who test negative are immediately vaccinated on site, and then taken to get clean clothes, food, and a shower. They sleep on cots outside under the trees in the fenced courtyard of the shelter.

For the first few days I’ve been here, I’ve been working at Holding only because I didn’t know La Frontera had reopened. I was mainly working on sorting and organizing clothing and helping folks find clothes that they need. Last night though 200+ covid positive patients arrived and we had to stop allowing people in the building to pick out clothes, and today we moved to just putting together kits of different sized clothes to give directly to them.

I was feeling a bit frustrated the last few days because the staff member in charge of organizing donations was being extremely critical of me and it was very frustrating and degrading to be around. I was yelled at a number of times by her. For example, I saw a pile of 200 towels on the ground and folded them. I was told that I did it wrong, to unfold them and fold all of them a different way. Or I started organizing toiletries and was just told ‘no, you’re messing it up, don’t touch that’. I understand that I’m new but no one took the time to introduce themselves to me, orient me, or show me what to do and I was trying to be helpful. I also understand that folks are stressed and under pressure but please don’t take it out on people trying to help you. Most everyone there is extremely nice it was just one of the staff members in particular that was acting this way. I was told I wasn’t allowed to give water or shoes to people who needed them because “I didn’t know how to do it” and because “if you give water to one person, everyones going to want it, and i don’t have time for that”. I didn’t come down here to sit inside doing nothing next to a giant case of bottled water and be told I’m not allowed to give it to the thirsty person in front of me.

So I walked out and I left the shelter in the middle of the day to go drive around town and take a breather, because everything I did seemed like made someone upset. When I came back I inserted myself into the kitchen crew and ended up making 200+ sandwiches for dinner. I also had a long talk with one of the nuns who assured me that that staff member is like that with everyone and has a lot of control issues due to the amount of pressure she is under, and not to take it personally. She told me that La Frontera had reopened and so ever since then I started dividing up my days between the two shelters. This has made a big difference and I feel a lot better and more useful.

I also connected more with some of the nuns here and they invited me to dinner tonight which was nice. One of the sisters is writing a book based on narratives of folks passing through these shelters and is interviewing people she meets. It was fascinating to talk to her. She has worked with undocumented immigrants and DREAMers from around the country for 28 years, and wrote another book based on those experiences called Silent Voices In The Shadows (Paula Schwendinger), which I just finished reading and highly recommend.

Oh, also it has been raining really hard for the past day or so with 95% humidity and constant thunder and lightening, which has made things even more interesting.

I will try to keep posting semi regularly while I’m here.

[five-rivers]

Glass Beetle

Based on a prompt by 2fruity4u for the Phic Phight! Might be sort of... fragmentary, in parts.

.

Danny frowned at his hand as it flickered in the evening's fading sunlight. He'd been having trouble with his invisibility lately. Nothing so obvious, for the most part, but both Sam and Tucker had noticed him 'blurring' or 'fading' around the edges this past week. He'd been able to correct himself so far, pull himself back into focus, so to speak, but, if that flicker was any sign, this was getting worse, not better.

He wondered if a new power was coming in. Sometimes his other powers acted weird when that happened. He hadn't noticed anything like that, though.

Either way, there wasn't all that much he could do about this. It wasn't as if he could just ask anyone what was wrong with his ghost powers.

Actually, that wasn't quite true. He did have a few ghostly allies. Sadly, they all lived (resided?) in lairs that took hours and hours to get to from the Fenton Portal. Lairs that also moved. He didn't really have the time to go find them.

Honestly, with all the schoolwork that had been heaped on him and his friends, he didn't have time to go do anything that wasn't absolutely necessary. Including sleep. He would give a lot to just be able to go to bed now, rather than whenever he finished his math homework. His extra math homework, assigned in lieu of detention. But, no, Skulker had to show up again, this time with ghostly hunting dogs, and completely waste Danny's afternoon.

But maybe that was the real reason he was having trouble with his invisibility. Exhaustion. And embarrassment. The two seemed to go hand in hand.

Just that week... Ugh, he didn't want to think about it.

He perched in a tree in the park, resting, and, inevitably, thought about it.

He really hated the people at his school sometimes. Dash for dumping glitter all over him and calling him a fairy... as if that insult wasn't so old it was fossilized... all the other people in his class for staring at him... Mrs. Hall for calling him out for 'disturbing the class'... the inevitable interruption of said class by ghosts... the detention... and everyone staring at him and giggling behind their hands.

Not to mention the toilet paper and what Dash and his cronies had done to his locker. Carrying his waterlogged books around and trying to explain to the teachers had been... painful.

In other words, the A-list had been in a bullying mood this week. No wonder he wanted to be invisible.

He sighed and drifted out of the tree. He had his breath back, as much as he had it as a ghost, and it was time to go home and do math.

Of course, to put a cherry on top of this already horrible week, he was immediately shot. He tumbled head over heels, and instinct took over. He went invisible, hard, erasing his light even in the infrared and ultraviolet parts of the spectrum, the chill of the power washing over him. He didn't know what had hit him, after all. A lot of ghost hunters had special goggles for seeing ghosts only transparent in the visible spectrum. Ghosts could often see through invisibility.

He reoriented himself, scanning the area for his attacker, one hand on the thermos.

Valerie. Very confused Valerie, judging by how she was whipping her head back and forth, scanning the ground and the skies.

Danny didn't want to deal with her. He hid himself behind a tree and went human in order to confuse any ectosignature tracing equipment she might have. He never knew what she'd get from Vlad, the jerk, but he probably wouldn't have included anything capable of tracking a half-ghost in human form.

He let out a breath as Valerie flew away. Now it was really time to get home.

He let go of his invisibility.

The cool feeling on his skin didn't go away. He looked down. Still invisible.

He let go of his invisibility.

Still, he only saw a faint outline of his limbs, visible only to his eyes.

Oh, this was going to be bad.

.

Danny had snuck into his house while invisible before, but usually he had a choice about it. He couldn't just walk through the walls, because his parents had coated most of the ground floor with something that blocked phasing a couple months ago (and was also a truly hideous orange), and he couldn't climb through his bedroom window because they had rigged it with a special anti-ghost alarm after noticing an ectoplasm stain on his windowsill.

He decided to go around to the back door, so no one would notice the front door opening and closing on its own. From there, he'd go to the lab and use the portal. Hours of flying and missing his math homework were preferable to being stuck invisible indefinitely. If only his parents had invented something to counteract invisibility... But, no, they were too focused on making things that hurt.

Yeah, maybe he was a bit bitter about that.

Okay, the coast was clear. Good. He padded down the back hall, unwilling to go ghost to fly. The security system was set to ignore him in human form, but sometimes it still picked up his ghost.

He turned the corner into the kitchen and froze as he heard the hateful beep of the Fenton Finder. His father's head snapped up, away from his plate of (unsanctioned by his diet) fudge.

"There is a ghost ten feet in front of you."

Jack leaped from his seat, and slammed the button to activate the Fenton Anti-Creep System. Lights strobed, some of them green with ectoenergy. Danny yelped and dodged a laser, then a laser sword, then a metal-backed cutout of his dad's face.

He ran.

By the time he got out of Fentonworks (the deathtrap) he was out of breath, slightly singed, and definitely bruised. He also felt, weirdly, more invisible.

He frowned. Was he diving deeper into invisibility without realizing it? Why? Because he'd been startled?

He turned to Sam's house.

.

"Okay," said Jazz, over the speaker on Sam's phone, after he had explained his current predicament. "It sounds like a confidence problem. Just, tell yourself you want to be seen- No. You have to want to be seen."

"I do want to be seen," said Danny. "I've been over this with Sam and Tucker. I don't want to be invisible."

"You know that," said Jazz, "but do you feel it?"

"Trust me," said Danny. "I feel it. Can you not get them out of the house for a bit so I can sneak in?"

"Afraid not," said Jazz. "They've put us on lockdown until they find, well, you. Or tomorrow morning."

Danny groaned. He'd already called them to say he was staying over at Tucker's. He'd wondered at the time why they were so happy about that.

.

He hadn't managed even a flicker of visibility by midnight. Even his transformation rings, usually blindingly bright, went unseen. Stuff he picked up turned invisible, too. Anything he wore turned invisible.

Also, the constant invisibility was draining him. Ghost powers took energy, especially when he was in human form. He was exhausted.

Maybe he would spend all his energy and wake up visible. He could hope. In the meantime, he'd sleep in one of the Manson's guest rooms.

.

He did not wake up visible. He woke up just as exhausted and unable to so much as see his own outline anymore. That was new. Before, he'd always been able to see himself while invisible.

He had to ask Sam to call Jazz, because he couldn't hold and see the phone at the same time.

"It should be safe to come home, now," said Jazz. "I turned off the security system, and Mom and Dad are off chasing ectopuses near the mall."

"Oh, good," said Danny, sluggishly transforming. "I'll be there in a few."

He took the same route in as before, but, this time, only Jazz was waiting for him in the kitchen.

Since he was a younger brother, he snuck up on her and poked the back of her neck. She jumped about a foot, and glared at a bit of air several inches above his eyes.

"Danny," she said, "would it kill you to take things seriously for once?"

"It already did," said Danny. "And, honestly, you sort of walked into that one."

Jazz rolled her eyes, and pushed open the door to the lab. "Do you want me to come with you?" she asked. "We can take the Specter Speeder."

"Better not," said Danny. "I should be fine. None of my enemies are going to be able to see me, after all."

"Well," said Jazz, as they stopped in front of the portal. She looked over a foot to his left as she said, "Be safe, Danny."

"I will," he said, and launched himself into the Ghost Zone.

.

"Your sister thought you had a what?" asked Frostbite, amused. He, also, wasn't looking quite where Danny was. In fact, Danny kept having to dodge out of the larger ghost's way.

"A confidence problem," said Danny. His voice sounded weirdly quiet, even to himself, and he wondered if his voice would also be affect by whatever this was.

The large ghost suppressed a toothy smile. "While your current condition may respond to your emotional state, great one, and your powers are linked to your emotions, they are not the cause."

"Then what is?"

"You have a parasite," said Frostbite.

Danny didn't say anything for a moment, half-convinced Frostbite was joking.

"A what?" he squeaked.

"A parasite. Don't be concerned, it is relatively harmless." Frostbite paused. "For ghosts. I have never heard of a human or half-ghost getting one."

That was comforting. Not. "What kind of parasite?" asked Danny. "What does it do? I mean, other than force you to be invisible."

"Well," said Frostbite. He turned to face the dizzying array of screens and other technology embedded in the icy wall of the cave. He brought up a image that made Danny blanch.

"It's that big?" he asked, one hand kneading his stomach, as if he could thereby force the many-legged thing out.

"Yes. Actually, it's a rather small example of this species. This must be its first breeding cycle."

Danny's eye twitched. "Breeding cycle?" he asked, feeling even sicker.

"Yes," said Frostbite. "The malaperas eraro is very sensitive to light during its breeding cycle, but they are also very weak ghosts, unable to become invisible for long periods of time. So they find a host and use their host's abilities. Once the breeding cycle is complete, all of the parasites will leave the host, and symptoms will stop almost immediately."

"And how long does this take, exactly?" asked Danny, voice cracking.

"Ah, it varies, great one," said Frostbite. "From the point that the ghost is unable to become visible, no longer than a week, depending on the strength of the host ghost."

"I can't be invisible for a week!" said Danny, alarmed. "I have school! My parents will notice I'm gone! I'm already exhausted from being invisible for this long. I can't take a week of this!"

"Ah, yes. The fatigue," said Frostbite. His eyes flicked from side to side. "That is, actually, the reason for the variable time. The malaperas eraro cannot finish breeding while the host is awake. It waits for the forced invisibility to drain the host and drop them into a sort of hibernation. It takes longer for stronger ghosts to reach that point."

"Oh," said Danny. "Great."

"We will be more than happy to have you stay with us while you recover. We will provide everything you need, and keep close track of your condition. This is more of an inconvenience to most ghosts than anything else. Similar to, say, the common cold or chicken pox for humans. It is difficult to be reinfected."

That was something, at least. He didn't want to do this again. "You're sure it will be safe for me? I mean, I'm not normal. Maybe we should just... take it out?" He mimed pulling, even though Frostbite couldn't see him.

"That is a matter to consider," agreed Frostbite. "Due to your unique physiology there may be... unforeseen complications. That is another reason for you to stay here, where we can monitor you. If it becomes necessary, we can remove the parasite, but doing so is an invasive and rather dangerous procedure."

Danny briefly considered flying to Clockwork, who could probably do something about the time problem, but exhaustion weighed heavily on his shoulders. "Okay. Fine, I guess. Just- Could you- If it isn't too much- take a message to my sister for me?"

.

The room was cozier and warmer than the norm for the Far Frozen, in deference to Danny's smaller stature and warm-blooded human form. There were also a number of nice, safe nooks and crannies that were attractive from a ghostly perspective, and a large number of paper-wrapped items.

"What?" asked Danny, leaning back into Frosbite's fluffy fur. On the way over, they had come to a compromise regarding how not to run Danny over. It involved Danny holding onto Frostbite (teenage pride required that he refuse Frostbite's offer to carry him) and Danny had enjoyed the contact more than he wanted to admit.

"Ah, gifts from your admirers, great one. We all wish for you to recover swiftly."

"So I don't freeze everyone again and leave quickly?" joked Danny.

Frostbite chuckled. "Nothing like that. We enjoy having you here, great one. It is an honor."

Danny hummed and let Frostbite guide him to the nest-like bed.

.

Danny felt like he was sleepwalking the past couple of... whatevers. Honestly, he didn't know how long he'd been in the Far Frozen anymore. It was all sort of blurring together, and Danny found it difficult to focus on anything.

Frostbite was doing another body-scan on him today, to check where the parasite was and what it was doing. Danny wasn't enthusiastic. The table for the scanner had been built for someone much larger than him and was distinctly uncomfortable.

Right now, Danny was sitting in a chair across the room, a blanket wrapped around him, waiting for Frostbite to wave him over. It was useful, he had found, to announce where he was going to be and then stay there. People wouldn't trip over him as much, if he was where he was expected to be.

"Alright, great one," said Frostbite. "We are ready to take your scan."

"Okay," mumbled Danny. He stood up, walked halfway to the table, and then collapsed under a wave of dizziness and fatigue.

"Great one?"

Danny only managed to make a pathetic sort of mewling sound. His vision was all grey around the edges, but he could still watch Frostbite grope along the floor, searching for him, and hissed when Frostbite bumped into him a little too roughly for comfort.

After that, Frostbite picked him up, and Danny stopped forcing his eyes open.

.

He woke up cocooned in sadly invisible blankets. There were voices. Deep, rhythmic ones. He sighed and tucked his chin down against his chest. He was safe here.

.

He woke up again, hungry and grumbling. He complained until he got food and went back to sleep.

.

When was the last time he opened his eyes? It was dark.

.

"... have finished?" said the voices.

"... reconsider the surgery..."

"... preparations..."

.

Danny woke up.

He could see his nose. Huh. He'd never really noticed how visible his nose was before he'd been stuck invisible. Really. It was right there.

He went back to sleep.

[bellaireland1981]

Lights, Camera, Coffee in LA

Ok, this is my absolute first time posting a story I’ve written and I am anxious as hell about it lol. Please be kind! 

Summary: Elena “Lena” is off to LA for the summer to visit her brother. Her summer gets off to a great start when she ends up sat next to none other than Chris Evans on the plane. (I suck at summaries!) Thank you SO much to @denisemarieangelina​ for reading and providing feedback, and a WAY better title than I’d managed to think of! You’re AMAZING! 

Characters: Chris Evans x OFC Elena

Word count: 4921

Warnings: None... absolute fluff

“I’m boarding the plane now, Mikey,” I gasped, out of breath from running through the airport.

“Oversleep again, Lena?” He asked laughing on the other end.

“Actually, my Uber was late and then we hit traffic on the freeway, thank you very much!” I said, indignantly, making my way down the gangway and onto the plane.

“Ok, well safe flight, I’ll see you in a few hours.” he responded, “Love you, Sis!”

“Love you too, Mikey! Can’t wait to see you!” I was excited to see my big brother. He’d moved out to L.A. when I was 12 years old to pursue a career in acting. He’d made a name for himself on a soap opera, but had decided he preferred being behind the camera instead of in front of it.

I quickly located my seat and stowed my carry-on in the overhead compartment before dropping into the seat by the window. One perk of having Michael book my tickets was an upgrade to first class.

I had just finished another year teaching 2nd grade and was looking forward to spending time in California with my big brother. Due to budget cuts, we had ended up with overcrowded classrooms this past year (meaning I’d had a class of 30 second graders as opposed to the normal 20 I was used to!). Needless to say, I was exhausted and needed a break.

“Can I get you something to drink before we take off ma’am?” a flight attendant asked me, smiling.

“Do you have any tea?” I asked, smiling back at her, I hadn’t had time to stop for caffeine on my way to the airport and wasn’t firing on all cylinders yet. “Or at this point, I’d drink week-old coffee resembling mud.”

“We can’t have you drinking mud, I’d be happy to get you some tea” She replied laughing, “Any milk, sugar, or honey?”

“Just plain, please!” I replied, “You’re seriously a life-saver!”

“All part of my job title!” She said before collecting the pre-flight drink orders from other passengers settling into their seats.

“A fellow caffeine addict, huh?” A smooth, deep voice sounded next to me. It appeared as though my seat neighbor had arrived.

“Not even ashamed to admit to that! “In all fairness though, it is before 8 in the morning, and a Monday no less.” I smiled up at the newcomer, and almost swallowed my tongue in the process.

Chris freaking Evans was standing less than a foot away, placing his bag in the overhead compartment. He had on a gray Henley with the sleeves pushed up, jeans, and a NASA hat pulled down to help disguise his identity.  Pull it together Lena, do NOT fangirl on the poor guy!

“Both fair points!” He said taking his seat and turning slightly towards me. Even with the added room in first class, he was still insanely close to me. I could smell his cologne or aftershave, which didn’t help my already overloaded senses.  “I’m Chris, by the way.”

“Elena” I replied, smiling, “Everyone just calls me Lena though.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lena” He replied with a smile of his own. Ugh, his azure blue eyes were seriously going to be my downfall. “What has you headed to L.A?”

“My brother lives there. I’m just going to visit for the summer. “A much-needed break from reality.” I replied, impressed that my inner fangirl wasn’t showing through...at least I hoped it wasn’t noticeable to Chris.

“I can definitely understand the need for a break.” He said, “The whole summer, huh? Must be a teacher?”

“Very good deduction skills!” I said laughing

“My older sister is a teacher as well, it was an easy deduction to make” He smirked, winking at me. “What do you teach?”

“I’m a second-grade teacher, although there are days I’d say ‘kitten wrangler’ would be a better job title.” I replied honestly. “Especially this past school year.”

“An entire room full of, what… 8-year-olds?” His eyes widened, “That’d be like a room full of my nephews… yeah, you need a break!”

“Yeah, 7 and 8-year-olds… 30 of them to be exact.” I replied, “I’m a kitten-wrangling ninja, what’s your superpower?”

He threw his head back at that and laughed, his left hand coming up to grab his chest. I smiled like an idiot at the fact that I was able to make him laugh hard enough to get the left boob grab.

“Super-human strength, quick healing abilities, and I look damn good for 100!” He replied, cheekily.

“Your tea Ma’am” the flight attendant interrupted, bringing my much-needed drink.

“Thank you so much!” I replied, taking the steaming cup.

“Can I get you anything, Mr. Evans?” she asked Chris, batting her eyelashes at him. I turned my head away to quickly stifle the snicker that was bubbling up.

“I’m good for now, thanks though.” He replied, then turning back towards me.

“Get that often, Mr. Evans. Or do you prefer Captain?” I asked as the flight attendant walked away.

“So, you do know who I am. I wasn’t too sure if you did or didn’t know.” He replied, laughing nervously.

“Yeah, figured that one out as soon as I looked up.” I replied gently, “But, honestly, I get that constant public adoration can get old, so I kept the fangirling to a minimum.”

“Fangirling, huh?” He asked, his smile getting bigger. “So, you’re a fan?”

“I may or may not be team Cap” I replied, my inner nerd shining through.  “I’m also team Thor though, so…”

“I’ll take it!” He replied laughing, “You said team Cap first, so that’s all I’m hearing.”

It was my turn to throw my head back laughing at his child-like response. It was nice to see the playful side of Chris, the true person that he is not the actor everyone knows.

“Welcome aboard flight 723 with non-stop service to LAX.” One of the flight attendants announced, “We will be pushing back and getting underway here in the next few minutes. At this time, we ask that you make sure that your seatbelts are fastened and return any seats and trays to the upright position. We are right on time, and should be landing at LAX at approximately 9:55 am local time.”

“Ugh, this is my least favorite part of flying. I wish I could just click my heels and arrive wherever I want to be.” I admitted to him in a nervous manner.

“Not a fan of flying?” He asked sympathetically, looking over at me.

“In general, flying is fine” I responded, trying to keep my breathing normal, “It’s taken off and landings I’m not exactly fond of.”

“Did you have a bad experience?” He asked out of curiosity.

“Nope” I replied, “But the way I see it, if something goes wrong at either takeoff or landing, you’re close enough to the ground still where chances are it’s going to hurt. When you’re in the air, you’re high enough up where if you crash, you’re just dead and won’t know how much the pain sucks.”

Chris was momentarily speechless as he processed my theory. I’m sure the theory is flawed but hey, fears are generally irrational right?

“Wow” he said finally, “I can’t say I’ve ever thought of it that way before.”

“I’ve never actually put that into words before, and I will admit that it does sound absurd.” I replied, “It sounded much less insane in my head.”

“No, not insane.” He quickly reassured me, “Probably has some validity to it...somewhere.”

“You’re way too nice!” I replied smiling, “Let’s pretend I didn’t disclose that information, and you don’t know the level of my nerdiness.”

“We’ve all got some nerdiness in us,” he replied with a flirty smile, “But I have to admit that the nerdiness is pretty damn adorable on you.”

I could feel my face heating up at the compliment. Holy shit, Chris Evans just called me adorable. My inner fangirl was screaming.

Before I was able to form a response, the plane started moving away from the gate. I could feel anxiety starting to boil in my gut. I gripped the armrest of my seat, knuckles turning white.

“Hey” Chris said softly, pulling my attention away from the window, “Keep breathing, Lena” His

right hand reached over and gently engulfed my hand in his own. I took a deep breath and forced myself to relax.

“I promise I’m not normally such a spaz.” I said apologetically, looking at him.

“None of that,” He said smiling, “We all have things that make us anxious. No judgement here.”

“So, are you heading back to L.A. for work or is that your home base?” I asked, trying to focus on something else.

“A little of both actually.” He replied, “I’m meeting with a director about a film I’m really interested in doing, but I do have a house in L.A. that I spend a lot of time at. Home though… that’s always Boston. Where is home for you?”

“I live in Providence, but I grew up in Newport.” I replied, “With the exception of my brother, the rest of my family is all still in Rhode Island.”

“Another New Englander!” He said smiling broadly, “It’s not Boston, but… you’re in the right region!”

“The only time I’m ever in Boston is when I’m catching a flight.” I admitted, “I always tell myself I’m going to drive up and spend some time there especially Salem, but something always comes up.”

“What!?” He exclaimed, “There is so much more to Boston than the AIRPORT!”

I laughed at the shock and dismay displayed on his face and in his voice.

“I’ll make a point to get there before I go back to work this fall.” I laughed, crossing my heart like the second graders I taught often did.

“I’ll hold you to that” He said, attempting to give me a stern look...but failing, as the laughter in his eyes gave him away. “What are you planning on doing while in L.A. this summer?”

“My brother actually lives in Malibu, so I will be spending as much time at the beach as possible.” I was very excited to spend time in the Pacific Ocean, surfing and hopefully diving at some point. The Atlantic was great, but definitely much colder. “I will also be buying an annual pass to Disneyland so I can go as often as I want and get my Disney fix. Once will definitely not be enough.”

“You’re a Disney fan too?” Chris asked, eyes growing wide, “You’re perfect you know that?”

“Far from it, I assure you.” I laughed, “Just ask my brothers.”

“Are you a Patriot’s fan?” he asked, turning his whole body towards me now. “Because seriously, if you are, I’m marrying you as soon as we get off this plane.”

I laughed and tucked a stray piece of brown hair back behind my ear nervously.

“I’m not really into football…” I replied smiling, “I’m more of a soccer fan. I enjoy baseball too.”

“I can accept that” He replied smiling widely, “I don’t know much about soccer, but what’s your favorite baseball team?”

“The Red Sox.” I replied, “My dad is a huge Sox fan, as are all my brothers. Mikey tries to play like he’s a Dodger fan now that he lives in L.A, but honestly that’s just to mess with my dad.”

“I was right, Lena.” Chris said teasingly, “You're legitimately perfect.”

“Even if I’m not a football fan?” I laughed. Butterflies were swarming in my belly for a whole new reason now. My fear of taking off, long forgotten. I glanced quickly out the window to realize we were in the air. Chris had kept me occupied to ease my anxiety during takeoff.  “Well played, Evans.” I said, looking back over at him. He shrugged and gave me a boyish smile.

“Sometimes it helps to keep the mind busy when you’re anxious so that you aren’t focused on what is causing the anxiety.” He replied, seemingly from experience.

“Thank you” I replied simply. I wasn’t sure what else to say.

“So, what’s your favorite ride at Disney?” He asked, changing topics.

“Is it acceptable to say that I love them all?” I asked him hopefully. Seriously, how do you choose just one ride?

“Nope. You got to pick one,” he said, shaking his head, “No cop out answers.”

“Ok, well I adore Space Mountain, but I also love The Matterhorn. The Haunted Mansion though is also a favorite…” I replied, “Best I can do is Top 3 favorites.”

“Fair enough, I suppose,” He conceded, “Good choices too. You went with the classics.”

“What are your favorite rides?” I asked, “And no ‘cop out’ answers either.”

“Space Mountain.” He said without hesitation. “That’s the one I could ride all day.”

“Favorite Disney movie?” I asked him.

“Of all time? Dumbo” he replied, “But I honestly love all the Classic Disney movies, and the newer ones too. What’s yours?”

“All-time favorite… Pinocchio.” I replied thoughtfully. “I adore Jiminy Cricket. But I also wore out two copies of the Oliver and Company movie.”

“I love Oliver and Company!” He exclaimed, “My dog, Dodger, is named after the Dodger in that movie!”

“It’s a great movie.” I agreed, “Where’s Dodger now?”

“He’s back in Boston with my mom and sister.” he said, a sad smile on his face. It was obvious he loved his dog. I’d read and watched interviews with him, whenever asked about his dog he lit up like a kid at Christmas.

“Are you going to be in L.A for a long time?” I asked

“Depends on my meeting with the director, I guess.” He replied, “If it goes well, I’ll bring Dodge out and we’ll stay out here until filming ends. I don’t have anything else on the schedule at the moment. Just finished my contract with Marvel.”

“It’s got to be a good feeling to have the freedom to just relax and pick what you want to work on.” I said, “I won’t lie though, I’m heartbroken you won’t be Captain American anymore.”

“It was hard to walk away after the last day on set, but it was definitely time. I was burning out.” he said honestly, “I feel like I went out on the right note though.”

“I’ll admit that I literally ugly cried in the theater during Endgame.” I confided in him, “Complete with crocodile tears, blotchy eyes...the whole nine yards. You broke my heart into a million tiny pieces.”

“But it’s not like Cap died!” he reasoned, “He just finally got the chance to live out the life he wanted!”

“Although that part did make me teary, the part that broke me was watching Cap get his heart broken when Natasha and Tony died.” I explained, “The scene where you’re sitting there and the tears are falling… ugh.”

“If it helps, it was extremely difficult for us all to make it through that film.” He said, “We were all emotionally attached to the characters.”

“That does make me feel better, thanks.” I replied.

The rest of the flight was spent talking about anything and everything. I was so caught up in the

conversation that I never even heard them announce we were beginning our descent into L.A., so when the plane touched down and started to taxi up to the terminal gate, I was shocked.

“Again, well played Mr. Evans” I laughed looking back over to Chris. “Thank you”

“I really enjoyed this flight, Lena.” He said smiling, “I’m actually kind of sad we’ve landed.”

“I can honestly say, this is the best flight I’ve ever had.” I admitted, a blush spreading over my neck and face. “I wouldn’t have been sad if it had been longer.”

The plane had taxied into the designated gate and came to a stop. Around us people were rushing to gather up their belongings.

“As crazy as this sounds, I’d really like to see you again.” Chris said, looking anxious for the first time since he’d introduced himself. It was as though he doubted, you’d want to see him again, which made absolutely zero sense! 

“It doesn’t sound crazy, Chris” I reassured him softly. “I would like to see you again too.”

“Put your number in my phone and then I’ll text you so you have mine.” He said handing me his phone.

I quickly typed my number into his phone before handing it back to him. He finished saving the contact info and then sent a text to me. I heard my phone’s notification ping, alerting me to a new message. It was if the ping of my phone set off a swarm of butterflies in my belly. The anxiety from earlier in the flight was back, but for a whole new reason.

I opened up the message from Chris and quickly saved his contact info. Chris grabbed his bag down out of the overhead compartment then grabbed mine down and handed it over to me.

“I’m assuming since you’re here for a while, you’ve got more luggage checked” He laughed,

“Either that, or you travel extremely light.”

“Honestly, I probably over packed” I laughed, rolling my eyes at myself. “I never know what I’ll need or want when traveling so I just throw it all into the luggage and go with it.”

“That’s one way to do it, I suppose.” He winked at me, “If you don’t mind, I’ll walk with you that way.  I’m getting picked up at arrivals anyway.”

“I don’t mind at all.” I replied, “My brother is supposed to be picking me up. I’m guessing he’ll be at arrivals too.”

We walked towards baggage claim, making our way through the large crowds at LAX. I noticed

Chris kept hat down low over his eyes, doing his best to blend in and not be recognized. He stayed close to me, trying to avoid being separated.

We arrived at baggage claim right as the bags were starting to appear on the conveyor belt.

Luckily, my bag came around quickly. I grabbed it off the belt and turned around, almost running straight into Chris. I hadn’t realized he was so close.

“Sorry!” he said, a boyish grin on his face, as he steadied me, “I didn’t want to lose you in the crowd.”

“No worries” I said breathily, enjoying the close proximity to him. “I think this is the fastest my bag has ever gotten off the plane. Thankfully, it wasn’t lost this time!”

“That’s happened before?” His eyebrows shot up in shock, “That must have sucked!”

“It did” I agreed, “I was in Germany too, which made it even worse. I was with a student group and we weren’t staying in one spot, so it was quite the production getting my stuff to me!”

“Well at least had it happened here, you’d have been stationary” He laughed, “How long did it take to get reunited with your luggage?”

“It took 3 days for it to catch up with us.” I said, “Thankfully, I had enough in my carry on that I was able to survive the separation.”

“LENA!” I heard a familiar voice yell. I quickly looked up and around for the source of the voice to find my sister in law, holding a neon green sign with my name in pink sparkles. I laughed, shaking my head at her.

“Talia!” I giggled heading over to her and hugging her. I adored my sister in law, in fact, she was probably my favorite. “Was the sign necessary?”

“Of course, it was!” she replied laughing, “I’d hate to be accused of being basic!”

“Extra… yes” I laughed, “Never basic.”

“I see you’ve made a friend already” She said, glancing over to where Chris was standing, his eyes dancing with laughter at the exchange.

“Talia, this is Chris.” I said making the introduction. I figured she had already figured out exactly who he was. “Chris, my sister in law, Talia.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Chris” She said smiling brightly. Talia is also a huge Marvel fan, but she’s more team Iron Man/ RDJ. Being married to my brother, she was used to being around celebrities and has perfected the art of remaining cool. I had a feeling I needed to take a page from her book this summer if I was going to survive in my brother’s world.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Talia.” Chris responded warmly.

“Ok, let’s get out of here!” Talia exclaimed, “Michael gave me strict orders to bring you straight to him before going to the house. I think he missed his baby sister.”

“I’ve definitely missed him too” I said, excited to see him.  

We all headed out of the airport and into the balmy California weather. I smiled looking around at the palm trees and feeling thesunshine beat on my face. It was going to be a great summer!

Straight ahead of us was a pick up line filled with limos, black SUVs, and sedans along with their drivers holding signs with the people they were looking for.

“There’s my ride,” Chris said, seeing his name in the line. He wrapped me in a quick hug before pulling back and smiling. “I’ll text you later Lena and we can make plans to get together.”

“Sounds great!” I beamed, trying to remember how to breathe. Chris Evans just hugged me!

Talia and I quickly made our way across the pickup lanes and headed towards the parking garage attached to the airport.

“Already making friends with Hollywood Heartthrobs before even landing in L.A., huh?” Talia joked as I threw my luggage into the back of her black Land Rover.

“He’s super sweet, Lia!” I gushed, “He kept me occupied the entire flight, especially during takeoff and landing, so I wouldn’t freak out. We talked about everything, and he never made me feel like a major dork.”

“Michael has mentioned several times that he’s very down to earth and a genuinely nice person.” She revealed, “He’s actually meeting with Chris this week about a part in the film he’s directing.”

“Ohmygod!” I exclaimed, “THAT’S the movie he was talking about? He said he was in town to meet with a director but never said what the film was or which director. What is the flipping’ odds he’d be meeting with my brother?”

“Hollywood is actually not that big” Talia said laughing, “Everyone is essentially connected to someone through a mutual friend. Not that shocking he’d know Michael. I’m guessing Chris didn’t put it together?”

“My last name never came up honestly” I replied, “Well, I guess this means I’m guaranteed to see him again!”

Being that it was past rush hour, it didn’t take too long to get from the airport to the studio lot where Michael was preparing for his next film. Talia found a parking spot close to a large building that I assumed contained a sound stage.

“Alright, he’s inside meeting with a few set designers. He said to come straight in when we got

here.” Talia said getting out of the vehicle.

We walked into the building, which currently looks like a cross between an airplane hangar and a warehouse.

“There’s my Little-Bit!” Michael said jogging over towards us. He quickly scooped me up into a hug, lifting me off the ground and spinning me around. “I’ve missed your kiddo!”

“I’ve missed you too, Mikey!” I said laughing, “I hate that we live on opposite sides of the country now!”

“I know, Kiddo.” He said setting me back on my feet and taking a step back, “You know, there are plenty of schools out here you can teach at.”

“Don’t tempt me!” I joked, “We just had one of the worst winters in over a decade this year… the temptation to leave it all behind is strong.”

“I know you probably want to get settled and freshen up from your trip, but I couldn’t wait to see you” He said, “I have a few more meetings but should be out of here by early afternoon, so we can make plans to go out somewhere for dinner tonight.” 

“Perfect, I am in desperate need of shower and clean clothes.” I replied, “Other than that, my social calendar is wide open.”

“For now, at least.” Talia teased, bumping into me and smirking. “I doubt it stays that way.”

“Yeah, I’m totally on the prowl to fill my calendar” I rolled my eyes, trying to play her comment off so Michael wouldn’t ask questions.

“That’ll be hard to do if you spend all summer at Disney, Little-Bit.” Michael teased, “Although, I hear Goofy is still single.”

“Oh wow, all have jokes today.” I laughed, turning towards Talia “On that note, I’m ready to leave now.”

“OK, you’re chariot awaits milady!” She responded, “I’ll see you at home, baby.”

“Drive safe, stay out of trouble.” He said, “Love you both.”

________________________________

I woke the next morning to my cell phone alerting me to a new message. I sat up and grabbed my phone. I was shocked that I’d managed to sleep past nine. I leaned back against the queen-sized headboard and opened up my text messages.

C: 7:35AM Hey Lena, I’ve got a meeting this morning about that project I mentioned but would

really love to see get together later if you’re available. Maybe get some coffee, or another beverage?  

C: 8:00 AM Ok, that sounded really lame. Let me try again. Lena, would you like to go out for a drink later?

L: 9:04 AM Hi! Sorry, I just woke up! You didn’t sound lame at all. I’d love to get coffee...or another beverage with you later! I don’t think I have anything going on today. Let me track down my brother to make sure he didn’t plan anything.

I pushed the covers back and got out of bed, my bare feet sinking into the plush carpet in the guest bedroom I was staying in. I pulled my long brown hair up into a messy knot on top of my head, deciding to deal with it later, and headed downstairs in search of Michael or Talia to see what the plans for the day were.

Once I reached the bottom of the stairs, I could hear voices on the back patio that overlooked the beach. I detoured to the kitchen first to grab a bottle of water from the fridge before heading out to the patio.

I opened the French doors and stepped out onto the cool bricks, before stopping dead in my tracks like a deer caught in headlights.

“Morning, Little Bit!” Michael said cheerfully, oblivious to my panic. “This is Chris, I’m trying to recruit him for my current project.”

“We actually met on the plane yesterday,” Chris said, winking at me with a smirk, “Morning, Lena. Love your shirt.”

I quickly glanced down, forgetting what I was wearing, and realized I still had on my old Red Sox tank and a pair or navy-blue sleep shorts.

“Thanks” I laughed nervously, “Good Morning.”

“Grab a seat Lena and join us for breakfast” Michael offered, “Lia had to meet with a client this morning, but will be back later.”

I sat down, next to Michael, which put me directly across from where Chris was sitting. I grabbed some grapes from the fruit bowl and placed them on the plate in front of me. Michael passed a platter of bacon and toast, so I added some of that to my plate as well.

“Lia made sure to make some of the bacon extra crispy for you too” Michael said shaking his

head, “although by that point it’s like eating straight bacon bits.”

“I’ll only eat it when it’s crispy because I can’t stand the idea that I’m gnawing on pig fat.” I replied, sticking my tongue out at him. “You’re lucky I’m even eating pork again.”

“There was a time you didn’t eat pork?” Chris asked, his eyebrow cocked.

“I had to dissect a pig in my honors biology class sophomore year.” I replied, “my lab partner was a little over zealous, and after a week of picking at a pig carcass, I couldn’t bring myself to eat pork anymore.”  

“She wouldn’t eat any meat for about a month.” Michael added smiling at me.

“What made you decide to start eating meat again?” Chris asked curiously.

“I missed cheeseburgers” I shrugged, “Being a vegetarian wasn’t working for me, so I decided to be a porketarian instead.”

Chris laughed, shaking his head, “How long did you go without eating pork?”

“I just started eating it again about a year ago.” I admitted. “So, about 20 years.”

“That’s a long time.” he said looking shocked, “What made you decide to eat it again?”

“She missed bacon” Michael replied.

“Pretty much” I agreed. “I missed BLTs… and turkey bacon wasn’t the same.”

“Fair enough” Chris said.

“So, what’s on your agenda today Mickey?” I asked my brother, steering the conversation away from me.

“I have a couple of meetings at the studio but I should be wrapped up by late afternoon, I was planning on grabbing steaks on the way home so we can throw them on the grill tonight.” He replied, “What are your plans for today?”

“I was thinking of going to grab coffee, or a beverage of some kind today” I smirked at Chris.

___________________________

That’s all I’ve got! Should I make a part 2?? Thanks for reading!!

[hyukiee]

Chapter 1: Destiny

warnings: cussing, drug use, mental illness (future fluff, smut, angst, etc.)

this is my first story i’m writing on tumblr, I hope y’all like it. I’ll probably update once or twice a week. I plan on this not so lovely love story to be pretty long.. and angsty. Enjoy :)

Dreams are one of the most unknown things we experience, yet no one questions our lack of knowledge about them when we lay in bed at night. Not everybody dreams. Some people only dream when their happy... or sad... or scared... or it just happens every blue moon for no reason at all. You dream every day, to the point where you feel a little depressed if you don’t have one. They never take you to wonderland, their never right, something is always off but you liked them anyways. They gave you an escape from reality, until reality started showing up in your dreams. The reality that you’re slowly killing yourself when really this was supposed to be the peak of your existence. The reality that you literally gave the most handsome man you’ve ever seen, the ugliest look in downtown Hollywood and the reality that you know you will ruin his life or get close to it.

‘That stupid fucking asshole, I can’t believe that no good piece of shit left me to fend for myself. It’s so fucking hot. Fuck off Karen, my face is easier to look at than that awful sweater. Fuck. I need to sit down.’ You stopped walking and you look at yourself through the reflection of some enterance to a cafe, it smells like. Jesus christ, those eye bags look like black eyes. You went to your closest friends party the other night, you didn’t want to go so that explains the oversized grey hoodie and grey sweats that... have dirt on them? How the fuck- you know what, you’ve seen worse. You can’t go inside the cafe looking like this though. The shady floor will do for now. Everyone is wearing work clothes so you must of slept through all of Sunday. Alone. Because your dick head of a friend abandoned you, god knows when but for someone that slept through an entire day, you’re tired. Maybe it’s just the mental exhaustion you live with but god you could use a nap. “E-eguse me ehm here you go,” you look up and see the most perfectly built man you have ever seen, holding a.. $10 bill? You unknowingly glare at him after noticing his arm holding out the money to you. He looked nervous, and foreign as fuck what accent is that? “I’m not homeless, fuck off.” Who the fuck is he to assume your homeless? Cant someone sit in piece for a little? Prick. You stood up, hitting his shoulder as you walked away, not ever looking back at his beautiful face.

Wake up, go to the beach, take a xans, go to work, go home, sleep, wake up, eat, sleep, and wake up to repeat the process. You always hated living by a constant schedule, but at this point you do anything you can to hurt yourself. The weekends are different though, its always spontaneous. Will you snort a line with the crackheads down the street or will you go to a party because you know the college kids adore their new interest in drugs? You really don’t need drugs. You’re fine. Depression put you in this place and god you feel like a coward. People go through so much more and stay away from drugs. Coward. Your thoughts consist of things like this often, even when your supposed to be hearing your idiot friends excuse for abandoning you last week. “Y/n, seriously, I could of sworn you were dead.” “Wow, thanks Julian, i’ll make sure to leave your lifeless body instead of calling 911 like a sane person when I get the chance.” You both rolled your eyes in sync. You loved Julian, he’s such a dumbass but despite saying he’s your closest friend, your hardly friends. You met before you dropped out of college, he was your dealer, one of the nicest ones you’ve met. You ran into him often and bought from him often as well so you would talk but the reality is he only stays because you’re his best costumer and you frankly don’t care because you are too lost to even care about someone else.

“Y/n, I think you should lay back on your habits a little bit,” Julian broke the silence you both had on the pier. You both liked to meet up at the pier and smoke a little. “Oh please, don’t act like you care. Drop the act and be a fake friend to me, please,” you spoke unemotionally, making eye contact with him. “I’ve never met someone asking for a fake friend.” “Real ones require you to love and deal with them. I can’t do that for you Julian but I know that’s not what you wanted anyways. I practically pay your rent, just thank me and change the topic.” He sighed. Not a disappointed one, a relived one. Julian has been a dealer for a very long time, he stopped caring about his costumers decisions. He didn’t truly care for your health, it was the sad truth. He did get worried that night at his party but only because he isn’t heartless. You knew that though, you seemed so lifeless and incapable of feeling anything to him. He wondered about your story at times but he knew somehow he would never get it. You’re easy to talk to though, it’s nice. “Thank you.”

Ever since you were little you wanted to live in a big city like L.A. Although, you imagined you would be going to UCLA and going to study on a beach just because you could. Standing next to Julian in line at Coachella, you just now take in how completely different your life turned out but at least you did end up here. Julian gets into Coachella for free every single year so your always his +1. You love gatherings like this but this one is just a little too Pg for you. You always end up spending most of your time at the food trucks. But according to Julian, ‘so many people would kill to be around this many celebrities’ so maybe you could get a drink or two in and mingle or whatever. It won’t kill you. So here you are, waiting to get a margarita because god knows you can’t be any type of social while sober. “I guess you weren’t homeless after all, my apologies,” you turn around and see the beautifully built man leaning down towards you. You could run. You’re not to far from the exit and it would be impossible to run into this guy for a third time... right? “Are you following me?” That was supposed to stay in your thoughts.. Is he though? How the hell do you see each other in two different cities? Sure, everyone knows about Coachella but how does he recognize you, you look good today, not homeless or drugged up, whichever works. “Ah, sorry, my english bad,” He stood up straight rubbing his hand on the back of his neck nervously. Right. Foreigner with a unknown accent. “What language do you speak?” It’s not like you’re going to understand his language but your curiosity is getting the best- “Korean.” You know it really isn’t too late to run. This man could be lying, trying to kidnap you and sex traffic you. What are the chances he just happens to speak the one other language you do as well. He could be faking this for all you know. “Hello,” You haven’t spoken in Korean since high school. You dont know why you even let that out. “You speak Korean? Wow, hello!” He bowed to you slightly with a box like smile on his face. That’s cute. It’s different. “I really am sorry for mistaking you the other day, do you mind me asking what happened?” “I was on a lot of drugs at a party and my friend abandoned me because he thought I overdosed.” You learned a long time ago to leave your addiction to yourself. People look at you differently when you do drugs, even your closest friends. That’s one of the first lessons you learn as a drug addict, keep it to yourself. The only people that know you do drugs are the ones that do them too. You could of lied to him, but the self destructive part of you couldn’t help but push this stranger away. You turned around to look at him after it got awkwardly silent. “What? You surprised? Scared? No harsh feelings, I don’t even know you.” You held in a laugh from his shocked and awkward expression. “Your right, we don’t know each other, I’m Taehyung,” He held out his hand replacing his taken aback expression back to his box-y smile, pretending what you said just never happened. ”Y/n,” You sighed. He won’t give up whatever this is. Fantastic. “Well actually, i’m supposed to be talking with famous people or something like that so I should get going,” You didn’t know how to get out of this situation. You felt like you couldn’t breathe with him standing so close to you. This conversation gets more and more awkward everytime you speak. “Then why are you leaving?” You both stared at each other, surprisingly not awkwardly. It was comforting looking into his eyes. “What? “You know what, I actually should go before i’m late, i’ll see you later,” he gave you one last smile and patted your shoulder before leaving you. “But- Why? What?”

“I just had the most uncomfortable conversation of my life with this insanely perfect looking man,” you spoke almost out of breath, finally finding Julian in the crowd. “Yeah, i’m pretty sure I saw who you’re talking about when I left you,” Julian is such an old soul. He responded while looking ahead at the stage, almonds in one hand like a football dad. “Who’s performing next” “Uh, BTS.” You hardly listen to music these days. Music that doesn’t fit your ‘fuck life, love drugs’ aesthetic. BTS doesn’t ring a bell so you probably won’t like it but it’s not like you have anything else to do, you’ve had enough with weird interactions. “Remind me why we’re sober,” you sighed, starting to feel the pain from standing for so long. “I’m sober, you’re drunk.” Julian glanced at the margarita in your hand. Right, you almost forgot. “Oh, don’t judge-“ “Sh sh sh their coming.” He hit your shoulder a couple of time looking at the stage like a child. You hate when people tap on you it’s so annoying. You sighed for the one thousandth time and focused on the group of people coming to the stage. Asians, how convenient. You know if life really hated you they would be Korean just like- “Ey, isn’t that the ‘insanely perfect looking man’ you were talking about? I can’t tell.” You have got to be kidding. That’s why he asked why you were leaving. He’s fucking famous. “I need another drink,” You sighed.

[cirrius-akiyo]

UNPACK THE BAGGAGE

-Parallel to Hold On (Let's Go Home) [Buck's POV]-

Buck has been feeling a bit under the weather for quite some time now. It has started with small throbbing headaches, which he quickly dismiss as fatigue or stress. Then come the sudden spells of dizziness that had caused dark spots to dance behind his eyes. To which he blames his lack of sleep.

He has not bother to tell his husband nor to consult Chimney or Hen because of the gap between the episodes of dizziness or getting light-headed were quite big. It's not like he has a constant throbbing pain to the point he's unable to function, so he doesn't really dwell on that matter.

Then one night came the nose bleeds after he had finished putting Chris to bed. Eddie was still on a shift after switching with Gary in order for one of them to be able to attend the parents-teachers meeting and Eddie had insisted to go this time. Remembering that one time Bobby got it too after the radioactive exposure scare, Buck shoves down his panic and worries into the imaginary bin. At least this time he is sure that he was not exposed to any killer rays.

After cleaning himself, he prepares to go to bed and slipped under the cover. His hand wanders towards the cold empty space beside him. Being by himself in the silence of the night, it is easy for his mind to shift to the last scene of the previous night.

They both had gone to bed angry. In all honesty, Buck doesn't really remember why they were fighting but he knows it was about something trivial. Something mundane on house chores, but he was tired and he snapped at Eddie.

The next morning he has said his apologies and Eddie had kissed him goodbye before leaving for work.

"I'm in my bed

And you're not here

And there's no one to blame but the drink and my wandering hands

Forget what I said

It's not what I meant

And I can't take it back

I can't unpack the baggage you left"

///

It is the night of the parents-teachers meeting and Eddie has left a while ago after finishing his 12 hours shift, leaving Buck to complete the rest of his 24 hours. Chris doesn't need to attend the meeting so he's at Abuela's, most likely in food coma now.

Once in a while, the unwelcome ache come back niggling at the base of his skull but Buck doesn't let them bothers him. He has learnt to live with them for a while. He really doesn't want any unwanted attention on him and be the man that has too many baggages, the firehouse doesn't need to divert their attention to a firefighter who simply has recurring headaches.

What is he really looking forward to right now is to go back home and cuddle with his husband, preferably while hearing the praises the teachers must have showers their son with.

Thinking about his family somehow able to chase the pain away to the point it is unnoticeable.

He simply smiles to the thought of his little family and his smile just get wider when Hen throws him a knowing look.

Their relationship is not without hiccup, but they've got through it all together. They both believe in healthy communication and no-sad-no-bad-secret-rule. Little did he know his belief is about to be tested.

"What am I now?

What am I now?

What if I'm someone I don't want around?

I'm fallin' again

I'm fallin' again

I'm fallin'"

///

"I kissed Ana."

Not the three words Eddie usually says to him before bed.

At Eddie's thundering confession, Buck can feel his heart break, but he also literally can hear his mind cracked. Like his whole body is about to pop out of his skin.

Buck tries to find the logical reasoning for this confession and alcohol is usually to be blamed.

Eddie then has refuted on the possibility of getting drunk during a parent-teacher meeting and Buck doesn't know what to do about that. Did Eddie kissed Ana because Buck snapped at him the night before? Did he fucked up so bad? Did he do anything that has pushed Eddie away? His brain immediately went into overdrive and so he froze eventhough he can hear the strings of apologies that fell out if Eddie's mouth.

Then come the tears.

"What if I'm down?

What if I'm out?

What if I'm someone you won't talk about?

I'm fallin' again

I'm fallin' again

I'm fallin'"

///

That night Eddie had held him while whispering strings of apologies into his ears, swaddles him with comforting words. But despite the lightness of Eddie's words towards him, Buck feels like the weight of the world is crushing him down. He feels like the exhaustion and the fatigues of the past few weeks are squeezing him dry. He's frustrated and tired and the tears doesn't seem stop any time soon. After baring his soul out, he finally succumbs to sleep, seeking momentarily solitude from bitter reality.

His sleep was not a peaceful one. Once in a while he'll wake up to either nightmare or sudden panic washed over him. He had thought of leaving to sleep in Chris' bedroom, but Eddie has keep him tight in his embrace. Dull ache keep pulsating in his head and so he nuzzles himself deeper into Eddie's hold. His husband's smell always able to keep him grounded and for a moment he believes in his wishful thinking that everything will work out later.

"You said you cared

And you missed me, too

And I'm well aware I write too many songs about you

And the coffee's out

At the Beachwood Café

And it kills me 'cause I know we've run out of things we can say"

///

Buck woke up that morning to warm kisses peppered on his neck and jaw. He still feel sluggish and not well rested but to see Eddie's warm brown eyes full of guilt and sadness just tug his heart in the wrong way. It is easier for him to remain angry at his husband but with their history, he knows anger doesn't do any good to either of them. So he reciprocate when Eddie's lips touch his, welcoming the warm feeling while trying to shove the thought that this lips had been on another woman last night.

Initially he was hopeful for a busy day that will give enough distraction to him, but now he is thankful for the minor calls that came in as his head is literally pounding him to the ground.

They had start their morning routine as per usual but Buck had noticed how Eddie has been working hard to give him more attention and care. Not that Buck is complaining but with Eddie plastered to his side, it is getting harder to hide the needling pain of the headaches from his husband.

They were doing the inventory when a sharp pain blossom in his head that caused him to falter in his step. Worry immediately etched on Eddie's face as his husband massage the stiff muscle between his neck and shoulder.

"Are you okay, Evan?" Eddie asked.

Buck really hates to cause unnecessary worry to Eddie and so he grit his teeth trying to ignore the pain. "I will be." Buck replied with the most steady voice he could muster.

But Buck did not get better. Every passing moment is an agony but he wills himself to keep going, effectively trying to avoid to be in close vicinity with Chim or Hen.

But then he found himself halfway into the toilet bowl vomiting the little food that he just ate with Eddie a constant present on his side providing silent support.

He feels awful. The pain. The nausea. The heartbreak. The frustration. The exhaustion.

Is he being exhausting right now?

Will Eddie ran away to kiss Ana again now that his mouth full of stomach acid. He's not actually kissable right now.

Buck chases the dark thoughts away while trying to stand up with Eddie's help. Buck's mind is really jumbled up at the moment so sue him if he thinks Eddie is going to leave him alone in his misery.

"Maybe it's migraine." Buck suggested to Eddie who is still actively acting as his support pillar. With all the symptoms he's experiencing, the possibility fits, but then as fast as he heard Eddie humming in agreement, he feels like the single string holding him splintered and sudden blackness consumed him.

"What am I now?

What am I now?

What if I'm someone I don't want around?

I'm fallin' again

I'm fallin' again

I'm fallin'

What if I'm down?

What if I'm out?

What if I'm someone you won't talk about?

I'm fallin' again

I'm fallin' again

I'm fallin'"

///

All Buck is able to feel right now is fatigue. Extreme fatigue. He can hear white noises all around him but he can't really help himself to care. He feels the fog of unconsciousness slowly dragging him under but as soon as he let the darkness embraces him, stabbing pain prevented him from giving into total sleep.

He feels like he's trapped in between worlds and he hates the idea and the feeling of it. Buck wanted to stay in the world that have Eddie and Chris in it but right now he's encapsulated in a world clustered with pain and agony. Colours keep bursting behind his closed eyelids as waves of nausea hitting him.

He can't help but to let his mind runs the image of Ana substituting Buck in their house. Ana kissing Eddie goodbye. Ana making pancakes with chocolate chips for Chris. Ana on Buck's side of the bed. Ana celebrating Christmas and Halloween with the 118. Ana attending the parent-teacher meeting with Eddie. Ana putting Chris to bed. Maybe later on Ana will give Eddie another child. Maybe a girl so they'll have a pair. Buck had thought of adopting another baby with Eddie but they haven't really discuss it seriously, and now Buck is about to lose his chance.

Pictures of Eddie and Chris with Ana and their faceless child slowly taking over the house, replacing any trace of Buck in it.

Where will Buck be? Who will Buck be?

"And I get the feelin' that you'll never need me again"

///

After feeling like eternity, the line of consciousness finally tugging him awake. Buck can feel a presence beside him, but he's in so much pain that tears are slipping free from the corner of his eyes.

He can feel the warm hands holding his left but he can't make out the owner but the feeling is like coming home.

But later the pain become unbearable to the point that he regrets of being awake.

The hands that are holding him suddenly gone and so as his consciousness. Buck knows no more as he slipped back into a nightmare addled sleep.

"What am I now?

What am I now?

What if you're someone I just want around?

I'm fallin' again

I'm fallin' again

I'm fallin'"

///

Clarity comes to him in stages. At one point he can hear a voice saying his name and Buck simply hums in response. That is his name, right?

Later he can hear Eddie's voice calling him, and he smiles to the thought that his husband is still beside him. At least he's not a lost cause.

When the numbness slowly fades, he can feel familiar calloused hand stroking his jaw and he leans his face into the warm palm silently pleading: please bring him home.

"What if I'm down?

What if I'm out?

What if I'm someone you won't talk about?

I'm fallin' again

I'm fallin' again

I'm fallin'"

(Falling - Harry Styles)

Eddie’s POV is here: https://cirrius-akiyo.tumblr.com/post/621917028804165632/hold-on-lets-go-home-i-kissed-ana-eddie