#thirteen year old me would have imploded | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

captain-josslett · 4 years ago

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Broken Melody - Part Twenty

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen, Part Fifteen, Part Sixteen, Part Seventeen, Part Eighteen, Part Nineteen...

Summary: Grammy Award winning Emma Danvers is the first to say she has a pretty good life. But what happens when it implodes around her and it looks like things will never be the same again?

Words: 5.8k+

Warnings: Angst, Fluff.

Pairings: Emma Danvers x Lena Luthor

This Part: Emma tries to work through everything and continues to struggle with not seeing her sisters.

So, so, sorry it’s been a while since updating. I’ve started a full time job and my mind just hasn’t been able to write 😅 But I do get to daydream when I work so I have loads of ideas stored away and hopefully will be able to update quicker.

Thank you for reading and let me know if you wanna be tagged or any general feedback will be greatly appreciated. Please! I like knowing your thoughts.

Taglist: @finleyfray, @life-is-hella-unfair, @natasha-danvers, @supergirl-writingz, @camslightstories, @thinking1bee, @aznblossom,

Ten year old Emma Danvers jumps awake when she hears a blood curdling scream. For a few moments she blinks into her dark room, confused at the noise that woke her. But when a softer wail fills the silence Emma quickly rolls out of bed. Recognising the cries coming from her recently adopted kryptonian sister, Kara.

Emma pads out of her small room and into the hallway, yawning and tiredly rubbing her eyes as she gently pushes Alex and Kara’s bedroom door open. Kara’s whimpering increases in volume as Emma enters the room. She softly closes the door behind her and quietly tiptoes over to Kara’s bed.

Emma sadly looks over at her oldest sister, Alex, who is turned away from the crying alien. Seemingly ignoring Kara’s pain. This annoys Emma greatly and the sisters have already argued over it. The blonde had even offered to swap rooms with Alex but the redhead stubbornly refused saying it was her room.

“Kara?” Emma whispers softly and waits for the crying figure to respond. Tearful blue eyes peer over the shaking duvet before quickly disappearing again.

Emma looks mournfully down at the other blonde as she thinks of ways to help her. After a few moments Emma lifts the corner of the covers and climbs into Kara’s bed. She gently reaches out and hugs Kara close, remembering how her Mom would comfort her after she’d have a bad dream.

Her new sister flinches slightly at the touch but soon Emma feels Kara settle and maneuver around to hug her back. The alien starts to shake as she tries to stifle her sobs into Emma’s shoulder.

Emma’s heart aches at the sound. She pulls her head back so she can see Kara’s face. The night light illuminates Kara’s flushed cheeks and bloodshot eyes. “No, it’s okay to cry. Mom said you get sick if you try to keep your tears in.” Emma tries to encourage the alien. Though she doesn’t know if Kara can fully understand her yet. However, Kara’s face scrunches up and fresh tears fall.

“It’s okay.” Emma says soothingly while stroking her hair.

“S-s-sing?” Kara gulps out and buries her head back into Emma’s little shoulder.

“Which one?” Emma asks softly and Kara thinks for a moment but shakes her head as she sniffs heavily. “Okay.” Emma purses her lips forward as she thinks about the other songs she has sung to Kara. “I got it.”

Somewhere over the rainbow, Way up high, There’s a land that I’ve heard of, Once in a lullaby.

Emma immediately feels Kara relaxing as she continues to quietly sing. The sisters had recently watched ‘The Wizard of Oz’ with Kara because Emma wanted to show her new sister one of her favourite films. The alien had truly been fascinated with the movie and Emma couldn’t help but watch Kara’s reactions to certain parts. How Kara’s face lit up when Dorthy opened the door to a world of colour or how freaked out Kara got when the Wicked Witch appeared in a plume of red smoke and disappearing in a blaze of fire.

Somewhere over the rainbow, Bluebirds fly, Birds fly over the rainbow, Why then oh why can’t I?

As Emma nears the end of the song Kara’s sobs start to die down, being replaced with shuddering breaths. The twelve year old alien clings tightly to the little human, the pressure hurts Emma slightly but she knows Kara doesn’t mean to hurt her and she is not use to her super strength yet.

Emma stares over at Alex’s back. Not knowing if the redhead was awake or asleep. But Emma guesses she is awake by how she is breathing. Silently Emma hopes her oldest sister will come around to Kara.

Yes it had been a shock when Superman brought his older, but now younger, alien cousin to them but Emma was overcome with curiosity and intrigue over the other blonde. She tried to communicate with the alien and found a way through hand gestures and persistence. Repeating words for Kara and pointing items out. Mainly important things like water, food, Star Wars and everything a ten year old finds important. Once Eliza found Emma talking to the Kryptonian about the different plants and vegetables in the garden and Kara patiently listened. Fascinated by the texture of the leaves and the words Emma was saying. Both missing the scowling glare Alex was giving them from her bedroom window.

Emma then presented the wooden swords her dad had made. Giving Kara Alex’s and demonstrating how to sword fight. Soon the two blonde’s were giggling while twirling around and bashing each other’s swords. Until Alex furiously stormed over to them and took her sword away from Kara. Grumbling it was hers and she was going to break it. Jeremiah immediately set to work making Kara one of her own. Which the two blonde’s watched with tilted heads.

But when Jeremiah told them to go play and leave him to concentrate Emma took Kara back into the house, trying to figure out more things to show her new sister. She had already displayed her seashell collection, which Kara analysed deeply and Emma noticed a crinkle appearing between the other blonde’s eyebrows.

Emma looks around the house and her eyes fall on her art supplies. Making Kara jump when she claps her hands together in excitement.

“I hope you like art! Alex doesn’t really, which is sad but she likes her own things. Like reading. Reading is okay but I much prefer doing something.” Emma smiles at Kara who smiles politely. “Have a seat.” Emma points at the dining room table and Kara complies. The ten year old then pulls out all of her art supply to show Kara. She watched as the alien’s blue eyes lit up behind her glasses.

“Did you do art on Krypton?” Emma asks, happy that she may have found something Kara enjoys.

Kara nods and the pair quietly sit for hours as they draw and paint. Emma didn’t mind Kara using most of the red paint and was pleased she thought of a good idea.

She hardly sees Alex, seemingly too moody that she wasn’t the centre of attention in the Danvers household anymore. Keeping to herself and barely talking to her baby sister.

Weeks turned into months and slowly Alex seemed to warm up to the new addition to the family. Especially when Kara defended Emma against a group of bullies. Standing with her little sister and ready to defend her. Alex marched over and stood next to her side, ready to punch any bully in the face that hurts either of her sisters. This was the moment Kara uttered her family motto, explaining they were stronger together.

The three started to become closer over time and would regularly be found in the forest by their home playing and having adventures.

On one such occasion a fifteen year old Alex and twelve year old Emma teamed up together as heroes to try and take down the evil villain that was destroying their town of Midvale.

“Psfft I don’t see the target. Over.” Emma quietly talks into the walkie talkie and holds her wooden sword tightly in her other hand.

“Please tell me you did not just make the static noise?” Alex laughs while rolling her eyes.

“Ah come on Al! Plus you need to say over. Over.”

“Fine.” Alex sasses back. “Over.” The redhead continues to look around, listening intently for the fourteen year old Kara. Having a sneaky suspicion that her alien sister was using her powers. Which was against the rules.

“Psttf I have an idea. Over” Emma’s voice whispers out from the walkie talkie.

“And what is that?” Alex responds quickly. “Over.”

“What if we do what that guy did in that movie. Over.”

“Vague… We watch loads of movies dork.” Alex rolls her eyes again at her little sister’s comment. She twirls her bow in her hand as she waits for Emma’s response.

“You know he sacrifices himself. Draws the evil guy out and gives the hero a chance to defeat them. Over.”

“Not a bad idea. Especially if you are the bait.” Alex chuckles and shakes her head. “Over.”

“Let’s do it by the fallen tree in the clearing? You can hide and I’ll call for her. Over.” Alex smirks at the excitement within Emma’s voice.

“Sure Peanut. Over.”

Alex quietly jogs to the huge fallen tree. Constantly on the lookout for Kara. But her adopted alien sister is nowhere to be seen. As Alex approaches the clearing she sees Emma step out of the other end and start to look around. Their eyes immediately connect, as if Emma could sense where she was and Alex quickly hides within some bushes and waits. Readying her bow and arrow. Making sure the arrow was a dummy that would only sting Emma slightly if she got in the way.

Emma waits for Alex to get into position and cups her hands over her mouth, yelling loudly. “Kara?! Hey Kara!” She waits and soon enough a blur appears before her. “Hey! You used your powers!”

“Well as a villain of course I would!” Kara bites back slyly with a grin.

“You really are evil!” Emma gasps dramatically, raising a hand to her chest.

“And when I am finished with you I will hunt your sister down and hurt her! And your little dog too!” Kara slowly takes a few menacing steps towards Emma who stands her ground.

“No! Not Alex and Toto!” Emma’s eyes fill with tears. Alex is always blown away that her baby sister can cry on demand and would often use her sister’s talent to get extra treats from their Mom or sitter.

“Little one?” Kara asks, concerned enough to break character.

“They are fake, keep going! You’re doing really well!” Emma gives Kara a smile before filling her eyes with tears again. “You will never get away with this!” Emma yells dramatically, pointing at Kara.

‘Give her the damn Oscar!’ Alex thinks with a smile as she watches the blonde’s.

Kara nods and puts a sly smirk back on her face. “But I already have!”

“No! You will never win! Good always defeats evil, you piece of bantha fodder!”

Alex snorts at Emma’s Star Wars reference and readies herself, knowing she’ll need to spring out at any moment.

“How dare you insult me! Me the mistress of all evil! You are nothing but the dirt on the bottom of my shoe!” Kara yells as she reaches for her wooden sword. Emma circles around so Kara’s back is to their eldest sister. “Now prepare to meet your doom!”

“Not if I can help it!” Alex suddenly appears behind them and fires her bow and arrow at the blonde. Hitting Kara’s right shoulder where it harmlessly falls to the ground.

“No! Ow!” Kara screams and collapses to her knees. “Damn you!” She coughs comically and falls to the floor.

Emma snorts and places a hand over her mouth.

“Emma! It’s rude to mock the dead.” Alex scolds her little sister.

“Sorry.” The blonde tries to wipe the smile off her face and make her expression natural.

“Who says I’m dead?” Kara’s muffled voice pipes up from the ground.

“Well the arrow would have been made out of a substance that could kill you and due to my excellent marksmanship it went through your heart. Killing you instantly.” Alex explains as she twirls the bow around.

Kara lifts her head up and smirks at the redhead. “You hit me in the right shoulder. My heart is on the left dummy.”

Emma snorts again which erupts into loud laughter when Alex glares at her. “Great shooting Alex!”

“Which means… Sneak attack!” Kara yells while pulling Emma onto the floor and starts tickling her.

“Nooo!!” Emma screams with laughter and tries to get out of her sister’s grip. “Please! Stop! Argh! Alex! Help!”

The redhead watches the pair with amusement before stepping in. “I’ll help you!” Alex yells theatrically. But instead of aiding Emma she joins in with Kara.

“Traitor!” Emma gasps out. “You’re… My sister!”

“And? Maybe I purposefully aimed for Kara’s right shoulder to take down the real villain!”

“Dun dun dunnnnn!” Kara laughs out as she continues ticking the thrashing blonde.

“Please stop! I’m gonna pee!” Tears of laughter stream down Emma’s face and the sisters finally stop their attack.

Alex smirks at her baby sister as Emma wipes the tears from her face, the redhead then looks up at the sky. “It’s getting late, we better head back.” She stands to her feet and holds out her hands for her sisters to take, helping Kara and Emma stand. The sister’s turn towards home and walk together in unison, laughing and joking together. Ready to take on the world.

-- -- --

Present day Emma stares out of the DEO window while plucking at her guitar while her mind wanders through her memories with her sisters. Though she can’t really remember the time before Kara came. To her Kara has always been there.

Slowly her mind starts to filter through the session she had with Alistair. They had worked on her fuzzy memories of the attack. How they are slowly coming back into focus but seemingly her brain was protecting her by blocking most of it out. Emma had projected the hurtful words spoken by her sisters that Emma does remember. That a part of her believes making her insecurities bubble up to the surface.

Lily, Alistair’s white german shepherd, had almost instantly jumped up on Emma’s bed and placed her head in Emma’s lap. Staying there throughout the session. Helping to ground Emma and when she got emotional or experienced a flashback, Lily had been a comforting presence.

A noise by Emma’s open door draws her attention away from the window. Standing in the hall was a transfixed Winn with Brainy and Nia behind him.

Emma smirks and waves at the trio. Stopping the music seemingly snaps them out of their trance.

“Hi Em.” Winn smiles brightly as he approaches one of the chairs around Emma’s bed. Emma returns his smile but it is more subdued. “You okay?” He frowns at the blonde, noticing her lack of a smile. He places the food container on the tray table by Emma and she nods while pulling the table closer to her. Her smile brightens slightly when she sees the sausages, vegetables and mash potato.

“Doctor Hamilton said you can start trying some form of solid foods and as I know you like that British restaurant down the road we thought lunch could be a bit more international.”

‘So the Tai food the other day wasn’t international enough for you?’ Emma wants to say but doesn’t write it down. Instead letting out a breathy snort as she starts cutting into the food.

“Oh yea Doc also said to cut it up real small. Chew lots before swallowing” Winn lists off the instructions Doctor Hamilton had told him while opening his container. Watching as Emma nods in response. “Enjoy your bangers and mash!”

Emma lets out a breathy laugh, remembering the weird names the Brits call their food. ‘Spotted Dick’ being her favourite by far. Not believing they would call a fruit, sponge dessert by that name, but had been proved wrong when the amused waiter brought the pudding out for Emma to try. Despite the very off putting name, Emma thoroughly enjoyed it. Almost having to fight off her bandmates to eat all of it in peace.

“Have you been to the UK Winn?” Nia asks, filling the silence.

“Yea I have. Both future and present.”

Emma lifts an eyebrow in response. Wondering what life is like in the future and being frustrated that Winn was keeping so tight lipped about it all.

“Awesome! I haven’t yet but it’s on my bucket list.” Nia replies enthusiastically, a longing look fills her eyes.

“Did you know the British public consume over sixty billion cups of tea a year. Around 100 million each day.” Brainy chimes into the conversation, causing Nia and Winn to gape at him about the statistic.

Emma continues to listen to her friends talking. Wishing she could join in and tell them about her time in the UK. But also being aware of how painfully slow conversation flows when she has to write everything down.

Sighing deeply Emma shoves more food in her mouth. Thankful that Winn chose something she enjoys. To be fair Emma likes anything. Other than Marmite… A disgusting yeast spread that half of Brits like. One of her stage managers in the UK dared Emma to try it. Making the blonde gag and causing her to drink loads of water to get rid of the horrible taste in her mouth.

“Emma?” Nia calls out, breaking Emma’s train of thought. “You’ve been to the UK many times right?” Emma nods. “Have you seen the Queen?” Emma nods again.

“What when?” Winn asks with a mouthful of food and his eyebrows almost up to his hairline.

Emma quietly sighs and grabs her notebook, keenly aware of the silence in the room as she writes.

‘The Royal Variety Performance.’

“Ah yea!” Nia smiles remembering the video she found on youtube after Kara first told her about Emma. She had been transfixed by Axis’ music and Emma’s performance. Singing a powerful ballad that moved the brunette to tears. Nia had spent hours upon hours going through Axis’ social media and debated about whether to send Emma a friend request. The brunette had squealed loudly when Emma had accepted and immediately messaged her,

A knock stops Nia from asking more questions as Emma looks over to see Lucy standing awkwardly by the door. Emma can’t help but shift uncomfortably in the bed, hoping Lucy has calmed down from earlier this morning.

“Don’t worry, I’m not here to yell at you.” Lucy says as if she has read Emma’s mind. “May I come in?”

Emma nods before turning back to her meal. Though she feels like she has lost her appetite.

Lucy glances at the three friends who give her looks of encouragement as she cautiously approaches Emma’s bed, watching the blonde push her food around.

“Can I sit here?” Lucy points to the end of the bed and Emma nods without looking up at her. Lucy lowers onto the bed and takes a deep breath. “So, I’m sorry about earlier. I overreacted when I found out you were missing and you are like a sister to me and I got so scared-” Lucy lifts a hand to her head trying to find the words to how terrified she had felt when Emma wasn’t in her room or in the building. She immediately rushed down to the cells but when there was no sign of Emma anywhere the brunette really panicked.

A hand grasps her knee and Lucy’s green eyes snap up to Emma’s. “Sorry.” Lucy breathes out and Emma gives her a timid smile. “So, we also need to discuss the next steps. Mainly the timeline of your recovery because we cannot disclose the Phoenix serum.”

Emma nods and leans back against the bed.

“How long would this timeline be?” Winn asks with a frown.

“We are trying to not make it overly long. Doctor Hamilton did say wounds like Emma’s would have taken at least 3 months to heal fully and she’d be bed bound for a while.”

“But Emma isn’t bed bound.” Nia blinks in confusion. “Would Emma need to stay here?”

“Or in her apartment.” Lucy looks at the blonde mournfully, who deeply swallows in response. Not liking the sound of that at all. Not feeling at all ready to go back to the apartment. Even after J’onn had told her a crew had made it good as new, with no evidence of the incident.

“There would be a huge media frenzy if any photos come out of you like this. The world thinks you can barely open your eyes and hardly move due to the amount of broken bones you have.”

Alarm fills Emma and she quickly grabs her notebook to write.

‘Robyn?!’

“Ah yea. I had her sign a NDA.” Lucy rolls her eyes. “She was annoyingly persistent. I thought you hated each other?” Emma shakes her head and lets out a breathy chuckle. “Jack isn’t far behind, though I’m trying to hold him off for as long as possible.”

Relief starts to filter in and Emma nods before starting to write again. She bites the inside of her lip at the thought of returning back to her apartment. Not sure she’s ready or even wants to go back there.

‘How do you propose we move forward?’ She holds the pad up and watches her friend’s face as she reads.

Lucy hesitates slightly before unlocking her tablet to bring up the timeline. “We will need to stage photos and videos showing your recovery and release them at the right time.” Lucy looks down at her notes. “We do have some already but I’d be happier if we do more.”

Emma glumly sighs causing Lucy to glance back up at her.

“I’m sorry Em but we need to do this to keep the media off our backs. J’onn and I had hoped it would have died down but everyone is still up in arms about what happened.”

Emma’s expression morphs into one of shock and disbelief. She quickly writes one word before showing the lawyer.

‘Why?’

“Because those that listen to your music feel a powerful connection towards you. Even though they have not met you or know you personally.” Brainy explains simply.

“And the attack has brought your music to the attention of more people.” Winn points out.

“Tell me about it.” Lucy says exasperatedly and runs a hand through her hair. “I had a three hour debate with your record label as they want to release the work you’ve done on your new album. Even the covers you’ve been sending Lena.”

Emma immediately shakes her head quickly at the idea. Causing a ringing in her ears.

“Yea I told them they can shove it.” Lucy agrees and quickly takes a piece of sausage from Emma’s container. Almost getting her hand stabbed from Emma’s fork.

Emma playfully glares at the brunette and Lucy sticks her tongue out before popping the meat into her mouth. Emma shakes her head and starts writing.

‘So I will be under house arrest?’

“I’m afraid so.” Lucy says softly, causing Emma’s shoulders to slump and her expression becomes sullen.

“I may be able to help with that.” Winn pipes up, causing Emma and Lucy to stare at him. “I, with Brainy and Lena’s help, could develop a face modifier. That way Emma can move around freely and not disrupt the timeline.”

“That could work.” Lucy squints her eyes as she considers the idea.

“May help Alex and Kara to know Emma is moving around too. I’ve never seen them so broken, I mean poor Alex, you would have thought Kelly would have stood by her and not run away-” Nia comments passionately and Emma freezes.

Horror fills Emma's whole body. She remembers Alex telling her the morning before the attack that she and Kelly were having problems but Emma never imagined Kelly would leave Alex like this. Especially with what her sister is going through.

Immediately Emma leaps out of bed and sprints to the door. She needs to see her sisters. Her heart aches knowing they are both in pain. That they are broken.

“Emma?!” Her friends yells fill the hallway as they chase after her. Agents seemingly appear ahead of her but the blonde easily sidesteps them. Using the training Alex had taught her in self defence.

As soon as she reaches the end of the corridor the blonde slides into the wall and repeatedly slams her hand on the elevator button. When it becomes obvious the doors won’t open quick enough she dashes towards the door to the stairs. Her determination gives her tunnel vision and she ignores those around her.

Until someone leaps on her back.

“Emma stop!” Lucy yells as she clings to Emma, wrapping her arms and legs around the blonde. Halting Emma from leaving the floor. “I’m sorry but they aren’t ready to see you. I’m so sorry.”

Emma tries to get Lucy off her back but the brunette has too good a grip. The blonde heaves in heavy breaths and her face scrunches up as she starts to silently cry. She longs to hold her sisters. To reassure them they are okay.

A ping announces an elevator has arrived. Emma turns her head to gaze longingly at it but feels Lucy’s grip tighten around her chest.

“Emma please.”

The blonde watches mournfully as the doors close.

When it becomes apparent that Emma won’t be running down to the cells Lucy slides off her back.

The brunette sadly looks at the tears streaming down her friend’s face. Placing a gentle hand on Emma’s shoulder Lucy guides her back to the room.

“Emma.” Nia squeaks out with wide eyes as she walks with the pair. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t think-”

The blonde reaches out and squeezes Nia’s hand. Giving her a barely there smile which Nia returns with an encouraging one of her own.

Emma re-enters the room and sits heavily on her bed. Staring out of the window.

“Em?” Winn asks softly, causing Emma to slightly move her head and focus on him. “Are you gonna finish that?” Winn points at the half eaten food.

Emma shakes her head before turning back to the window. She ignores the yelp of pain from Winn when Lucy slaps his arm as he reaches out for the discarded food. Purposefully tuning out the conversation in the room.

Instead, focusing on the world outside of the DEO. The airplanes that zoom across the sky, the birds that flutter past the window and settle on the sill. The traffic down an avenue she can see. Anything to try and keep her mind from acknowledging the pain she’s feeling. The thoughts that are screaming in her mind about her sisters.

“-ma?” Winn’s voice breaks through as she recognises he’s calling out to her. Slowly she turns to look at him. “We’re going back to work. I- er- left your food.”

Emma looks down at the tray and sees that Winn hasn’t touched it. She nods and lifts the right corner of her mouth slightly to show her appreciation.

Emma eyes flick to Nia as she cautiously approaches her. “Can I give you a hug?” Emma nods and opens her arms. Nia immediately dives into them. “Message me if you need me.” Emma nods again and squeezes the superhero. When Nia steps back Winn is already there with his arms open, waiting for a hug. Making Emma voicelessly snort.

“Ah come on!” Winn whines and Emma motions for him to hug her. He does immediately and Emma can’t help but feel more of her anxiety melt away. “If you need anything just give a shout.” Winn says as he pulls away. Emma raises an eyebrow at him and can’t help but smile at the look of horror that comes across his face. Especially when Brainy, Nia and Lucy lower their heads into their hands. “Em. I’m so sorry I-”

Emma immediately lifts a hand to his lips, silencing him. Thankfully he complies, instead gaping at her like a goldfish.

“See you later Emma.” Brainy nods at her before quickly leaving the room, already analysing his tablet at ideas for a face modifier. Nia forcefully grabs Winn’s hand and pulls him out with her.

“I can stay if you want me to?” Lucy asks as she hovers by the bed and massages her shoulder.

Emma is tempted to shake her head but instead she nods. Not wanting to be alone right now.

“Okay great!” Lucy beams at her. “Do you want to do anything? I mean I have work I can be doing but I can watch a film with you or we could play a card game? Chess?”

Emma looks over at the chessboard on the coffee table by the sofa. Lena had brought it in to give Emma something else to do. But the board is currently being taken up by an intense game the girlfriends were playing. Emma reaches for her notebook and writes a response.

‘Lena will immediately say she’s won if we mess the board up.’

“Ah! We can’t have that!” Lucy jokes and sits on the end of Emma’s bed. Her expression becomes sombre as she studies the blonde closely and Emma stares right back. “Are you okay?”

Emma looks between Lucy’s questioning green eyes and slowly shakes her head.

Lucy reaches out and gently holds Emma’s hand. “I’m here if you want to discuss it.”

Emma’s eyes start to glisten with tears and she wipes at them in exasperation.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Lucy grabs Emma’s hand to halt her rubbing. “It’s okay to cry. God knows I’m done my fair share recently.”

Emma tilts her head and frowns slightly.

“What?” Lucy mirrors Emma’s expression. The blonde lets go of Lucy’s hand and starts writing.

‘What do you mean?’

“About what?” Lucy asks, confusion written across her face.

‘What have you been crying about?’

“About you! And Alex and Kara! This whole shit show!” Lucy says bitterly and watches Emma move her pen to paper. “And don’t even think about writing that you are not worth my tears cause you fucking are!”

Emma eyes’s snap up to Lucy’s and her mouth drops open. She was going to write exactly that.

“I’m right aren’t I?”

Emma shuts her mouth and shakes her head.

“Bull.” Lucy narrows her eyes. “Have you forgotten I am a lawyer? And a damn good one at that?”

Emma smiles sadly and looks down to write. ‘Yea you are. Frustratingly so.’

“Unless I’m the one defending you right?” Lucy raises an eyebrow and Emma nods, her smile turning more genuine. “So, do you wanna write about it? You don’t have to, I just-” Lucy hesitates, sighing deeply as she chooses her words. “I worry about you and I wish I could make everything better.”

‘I know.’

“You totally wrote that with Han Solo in mind didn’t you?”

Emma lets out a breathy snort and Lucy laughs loudly.

“You're such a nerd.” Lucy teases and Emma just shrugs. But her smile fades and the blonde gazes down at the paper as she thinks about her sisters. “Em?”

Emma takes a breath and starts writing. Lucy watches her and the expressions Emma makes as she scribbles her thoughts down. In these moments Lucy really misses Emma’s voice and her anger bubbles up at whoever did this to her friend. But before Lucy’s anger simmers up anymore Emma turns the notepad around.

‘I just feel so helpless. We’ve always done everything together and I’m happy they have each other but I want to be there with them. Dad always joked we were like a three legged stool. When one of us wasn’t at home we almost couldn’t function. I get what you are saying that they aren’t ready to see me... But I just miss them so much.’

“Aw Em.” Lucy says sympathetically after she reads. Her eyes flick back up to Emma’s. “It will get better. I know that doesn’t help right now. But, it will.”

Emma nods and leans back against the bed.

“So, what do you want to do?”

‘Okay if I paint?’

“Of course it is! I’ll just work here on my tablet.” Lucy smiles reassuringly at Emma and hops off the bed. She pauses and turns back around to Emma. “Hug?”

Emma smiles and opens her arms. Lucy wraps her arms around the blonde and tries to convey how much she cares for her in it.

After Lucy sits in a chair to work she can’t help but watch how Emma morphs into her creative mode. How the blonde focuses solely on what she’s doing with her paint brush. The way Emma’s eyes squint and her tongue slightly pokes out to the side.

Lucy smiles and tries to concentrate on her own work. Leaving the pair in peaceful silence.

-- -- --

Many hours later there is a knock on the door. Lucy glances up as Lena and Sam enter the room.

“Hi!” Lucy greets the friends happily and turns to look at Emma. The blonde is still so busy with what she’s doing she hasn’t noticed the new arrivals.

It’s only when Emma cleans her brushes, happy with what she’s done, does she sense Lena’s presence in the room. She quickly looks up towards the sofa where Lena, Sam and Lucy are sitting. Seemingly halting their conversation as the trio notice Emma’s focus on them. Lena can’t help but greet her girlfriend with a beaming smile.

“Hi love.” Lena says while standing and approaches the blonde. Emma waves at her but gives her a questioning look. “I didn’t want to disturb you.” Lena gracefully sits on the bed next to Emma and softly kisses the blonde’s lips. “You were so engrossed in what you were doing.”

“Sorry.”

“No don’t be! I’m glad you are painting.” Lena smiles reassuringly at her girlfriend. Her smiles then morphs into a shy one. “I- er- got you something.”

Emma tilts her head and her eyes bulge when Lena lifts a huge bouquet of flowers up. Having not noticed them when the raven haired beauty walked in or when she came over to the bed.

“Wow!” Emma signs and she reaches out to touch a red rose. Feeling the softness of the petal and admiring the colour.

“The florist told me the roses mean love, obviously. The baby breath is everlasting love. The-” Lena pauses as she tries to remember the meaning of the other flowers. Emma starts kissing her cheek making Lena beam and lean into them. “Em! I’m trying to think!” Emma pulls away and rests her chin on Lena’s shoulder. “So, the daisies are my love is pure and the tulips all have different meanings, the red being eternal love, the orange desire and passion, yellow happiness and sunshine and the cream tulips-” Lena gently moves her girlfriend’s head so she can gaze deeply into Emma’s slightly bloodshot eyes. “I will love you forever.”

She watches as Emma melts and her eyes glisten with tears. The blonde tilts her head and slowly leans towards her girlfriend. Lena copies her and they gently kiss but before they can deepen it further and noise fills the room.

“Blurgh!” Lucy yells out, pretending to heave. Emma furiously pulls away and flips her off. Glaring at the brunette before turning back to her girlfriend.

“Thank you. I love them.”

“I’m glad.” Lena smirks at the blonde and Emma carefully places the bouquet on the tray table. Making sure not to knock any of the other stuff on there. “So, how's your head?”

“Haven’t had any complaints yet.” Emma signs cheekily and Lena roars with laughter.

“What did she say?” Sam looks between the two girlfriends, wanting to know why Lena reacted the way she did.

“Haven’t had any complaints yet.” Lena responds while continuing to laugh, causing the two brunettes to join in with her and Emma just smiles happily at them as she snuggles into her girlfriend.

(Part Twenty One)

#supergirl #supergirl tv #supergirl imagine #supergirl fanfic #supergirl baby danvers #lena luthor x baby danvers #lena luthor imagine #alex danvers x baby danvers #alex danvers imagine #kara danvers x baby danvers #kara danvers imagine #baby danvers #b!d

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sunsoothed · 4 years ago

Text

lightness

jang hanseo character study kinda fic i promised. i'm not sure if this is a character study anymore. i have no idea what this became. anyway! i wanted to explore hanseo and give him a bit of a backstory, so here it is!

*deep breath* content warnings: graphic descriptions of violence, physical abuse, blood, injury, canonical character death (not hanseo), recreational drug use, underage drug use, implied drug abuse

word count: 1866

read on ao3

hope you like it!

When Jang Hanseo is seven, he is acquainted with elder brother. Regal; nine-years-old and already hunting.

He still hides behind their father with him when he pretends to be terrified of the sound of gunfire.

Hanseo says nothing. He never brings up how his brother had thrown the bloodied rabbit and his rifle to the servant attending him, never brings up how thoroughly he washed his hands to hide the evidence of his independence from his father.

Never brings up how his brother assessed him with just a look and nothing more.

The first words Jang Hanseo’s brother says to him are as follows:

“Don’t call me hyung.”

Jang Hanseo blinks, traces his eyes over the leather of his brother’s jacket, over the blood that drips from his gloves, over the rifle he holds in his hands. He smiles.

“Okay, hyung-nim!”

A scoff, but some appraisal. Jang Hanseo doesn’t understand the half-smile he receives that autumn afternoon, but he remembers it until he beats his brother with a hockey stick, striking his head trice ‘til he’s out and his back once just for good measure, just to see the blood coming up to his mouth for him to choke on.

The first time his brother hits him, Jang Hanseo is eight. The ice rink is dark, and his brother is more geared up than he is.

Jang Hanseo misses thrice, scores once. He is rewarded with a swipe of the hockey stick on the back of his calf, and he thinks it is a game.

For that, he is rewarded with his first broken bone and a seared memory of a hand heavy on his throat. A laugh without mercy.

When Jang Hanseo is thirteen, he is offered alcohol at a party his father is hosting.

He declined, having seen first-hand what alcohol does to you, what a rage it puts his father in as he breaks porcelain, the scar he left on his mother’s cheek that lasted till the day she died.

When Jang Hanseo is fourteen, his brother kills four people. Classmates, he tells him, when he comes home with red speckled on his face. They weren’t worthy of being my classmates.

Jang Hanseo celebrates his fifteenth birthday with the diagnosis of his brother being a psychopath and accidentally tearing open the letter of a one-way ticket to the United States.

Instead of cake, he consumes his own blood, and instead of a pat on the back, he has a dislocated shoulder.

When he wakes a day later hooked to an IV, his brother is gone. The phantom of his laugh lives on, searing long into Hanseo’s conscience.

At fifteen-and-a-half, his father sends Hanseo to his grandmother’s for the summer. His father is undergoing a trial, on the charges of bribery, abetting murder, and perjury. With one son shipped off to the States and another to Jeju Island, he has no pawns he will feel ill about sacrificing. It’s not that he loves them. It’s that letting your son die because the ransom money you can very well afford would require you to take some shares out, and that’s too tedious of a process to go through.

So Jang Hanseo boards the short flight, stares out of the window for the longest one hour and fifteen minutes of his life so far. He’s never met his grandmother.

He wonders if she’s like his father, knowing she’s raised him, or if she’s worse.

She’s leagues different from anyone in his family.

Halmeoni scans him up and down when the driver drops him off at her estate. At the front door itself, she says, “We have a lot of fixing-up to do.”

It leaves an impression, that’s for sure.

The best summer of his life, Hanseo learns how to uproot weeds and catch a chicken without screaming like his life was being threatened. His halmeoni owns a farm, some 150 acres of greenery and animal and mansion.

Halmeoni teaches him first how to eat well, how to fill his plate and not feel bad about it, how to overeat and regret it. Halmeoni teaches him second that he is the most important person to himself; never his father, and not his hyung-nim.

Halmeoni teaches him third that he has no one else in the world but himself.

This, Jang Hanseo remembers the most.

(But his brother’s —)

With his brother’s absence, an anxiety sets into Hanseo’s veins so intensely that upon looking up his symptoms, he sees words like psychosis and personality disorder and promptly closes his laptop shut.

Unbidden, but not unwelcome, he remembers the rages his father fell into. He remembers the embers of gold in those small wide glasses that abeoji owned, remembers the crates of bottles that they used to have moved into the house. He also recalls the putrid smoke that used to emerge from the study. The smell of something burnt and something that made him cough so hard it alerted his father of his presence.

It’s in the boys washroom that he smells the scent again. By the open window, out curls smoke.

Jang Hanseo catches the eye of the assailant. Oh Yeonwoo will get him into this mess and then out. He will be Hanseo’s first true friend.

Jang Hanseo tries it for the first time on the terrace of the school. One joint between the two of them and nothing but heaving coughs from him until he learns how to take air after smoke and allow its natural passage back up. The joint is over by then, and Hanseo feels nothing.

Yeonwoo bumps their shoulders together, carelessly tossing the filter over the railing of the terrace. “You’ll get the hang of it,” He assures. “I didn’t even make it after a couple of joints, so you’re doing better than me already.”

Hanseo lends him a half-smile. Better than him, he thinks. When have I ever been better than anyone?

“Hanseo-yah, what’re you thinking with that scowl, hm?” Yeonwoo bumps their shoulders together again. “You’re so scary when you space out.”

“I am?”

Yeonwoo nods again. Hanseo notes something hazy in his eyes, something completely unguarded in his demeanour. He blinks cautiously.

“Hanseo-yah,” Yeonwoo whines, “Stop staring at me.”

“I’m not,” He replies. “Are —” Are you okay? Hanseo was going to ask. Stupid. Yeonwoo has settled against his shoulder now, humming some tune. He stretches his legs out in front of him and sways his feet to the rhythm. He seems better than okay.

So this is what it does, Hanseo thinks. Lightness. He wants to be light.

And so, Jang Hanseo, age sixteen, falls into something whose magnitude he cannot guess. Addiction is only the half of it. The other half had started the day Yeonwoo showed him something called shotgunning, which had taken his first kiss and his first experience with intoxication whose harm had lasted longer than its euphoria.

When he lies beside Yeonwoo, all too hot and all too cold, unable to distinguish which fingers are his when they hold hands, he finds it. The lightness. When Yeonwoo turns and exhales into his neck, prickling sweat and prickling hair to stand on edge, Hanseo smiles.

And when Hanseo wakes up, the dread in his gut is deeper than it’s ever been.

(— his brother’s —)

So it seems that boys with no family and boys with brothers who know nothing but violence and boys with a terrible, terrible blankness to them can also, by some grace of humanity, fall in love. And so it seems, as Hanseo feels the telltale thumping of his heart and lightness in his abdomen, that Yeonwoo will keep having this effect on him.

Subtlety, Yeonwoo tells him, the afternoon they sit on the roof and stare at the sky and at the smoke. Subtlety will let you get away with everything.

Subtle touches, then. Hanseo’s fingers lingering a moment too long on Yeonwoo’s arm, Hanseo’s hand firm between his shoulder blades. Subtle words, and subtle smiles, and subtle smoke between their mouths as they chase lightness.

Subtle kisses, too, when Hanseo feels he can see his own eyes in Yeonwoo’s, when Hanseo still finds the thrill of sealing his lips with Yeonwoo’s to be a minefield of his own feelings. Subtle kisses that Yeonwoo always blackens — drags them down into teeth and tongue and desire. Hanseo doesn’t know, then, that this is what differentiates them. What puts him on a curved, unshapely parabola and Yeonwoo on a straight line.

Feral, Hanseo once thinks, his gaze only slightly unclouded, as Yeonwoo bites at his lips, his neck. Feral, in the way he never kisses to coax Hanseo’s mouth open; never to cherish feeling. Only to chase after something so much deeper.

At seventeen, Jang Hanseo implodes from heartbreak.

Transfer student. Short, ebony hair, in that oh-so-timeless straight bob. He has a nice smile, even Hanseo can tell, and he has a charming walk. He’s also assigned a seat beside him. This, of all things, was the catalyst.

Yeonwoo didn’t want to kiss him anymore. Yeonwoo wanted to smoke with him, but Yeonwoo also bought a new companion along with him. Yeonwoo, it seemed, never wanted what Hanseo did. Yeonwoo, it seemed, never felt the way Hanseo did.

Hanseo knows that he knew, somewhere, beneath what his world had become, that this would not stand for long. Its foundations were, in the end, smoke.

But it does not surprise him, Hanseo thinks, seventeen and a quarter, something vile in his veins. It does not surprise him that he’s here.

His head hits, dully, the floor under him. He laughs. And he laughs some more, as the world turns from dust to sky to ocean. And he waits for the servants to find him in his father’s study.

They tell him that he’s lucky, later, in the hospital. Jang Hanseo thinks this is what death feels like, on the verge of eighteen. He states blinking at the ceiling. Hospital rooms are white on all six sides, and heaven is supposed to be white on all six sides as well. He wants to laugh, so he does.

And it hurts.

Hanseo stops laughing.

(— his brother’s laugh —)

Hanseo laughs. Ten years past, ten years perished, Hanseo laughs until his heart hurts. His brother’s heart is still beating. His blood is still warm, the three hits to his head and one to his back hadn’t kept him down. Hanseo laughs as the blood splatters on his face, sprinkled red on his chin and lips, a sprinkled red dancing in his eyes as he brings the hockey stick down, down, down.

For everything Hanseok has made him — less, more, just enough. For all these little things that had changed Hanseo more than broken bones could. For lost love. For things that weren’t, in the end, Hanseok’s fault.

Hanseo beats him till his heart stops fighting back and the blood pooled in his mouth flows quietly. Till Hanseo feels no fight left in him, and then some, till the exhaustion in him takes over.

Hanseo slumps over his brother’s dead body, and Hanseo laughs.

(But his brother’s laugh will always be louder.)

#tvn vincenzo #jang hanseo #jang hanseok #vincenzo fic #tw violence #tw abuse #tw drugs #whovie writes

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ashistrashhh · 4 years ago

Text

here are some fic recs!! including sakuatsu, bokuaka, kuroken and matsuhana bc i couldnt help myself

if you want, ask me about a certain ship and ill give you some recs!

-sakuatsu-

Marble and Sandstone by red_camellia

rating: G words: 12,937 chapters: 2/2

author summary: Miya Atsumu only cares about volleyball and nothing else. That is, until he develops a strange obsession with the marble statue of a young man that seems vaguely familiar in his university's arts department. One day that statue comes alive as the very real Sakusa Kiyoomi, and they are left with the mystery of why Sakusa Kiyoomi was turned into a statue and only came back to life when Atsumu touched him. Their new-found connection and the strange mystery turns Atsumu's life upside down, not least because of his growing feelings for Sakusa.

my notes: this was a rlly cute fic!!! 11/10 would read again!!

let it go (paint my body gold) by lunarism

rating: T words: 3,272 chapters: 1/1

author summary: It becomes a routine for them. Sometimes they go grocery shopping and make dinner together, other times they end up talking until Sakusa feels like his own shower and bed is calling him. Every single time Sakusa gets home, shrugs his coat off, balls it up, and proceeds to scream profusely into the fabric for a few minutes.

my notes: pining!!! sakusa!!! also casual painter!atsumu!!! and they paint together!!!

craft a miracle with these hands, lips, (silence) by chrysanthe (sonderesque)

rating: T words: 4,252 chapters: 1/1

author summary: ‘Someone is here to ruin your night,’ his door tells him. ‘You should let them in.’ “I’M HOMELESS OMI-OMI. HOMELESS,” yells the one here to ruin his night. “LET ME IN.”

(What does Kiyoomi sell his sanctuary for?)

my notes: hnnn rlly fuckin cute,, and domestic,,,,

Clipped To You by littleboat

rating: T words: 8,174 chapters: 1/1

author summary: It starts with Hinata Natsu, of all people.

Well, if Atsumu’s being honest with himself, it started way before that, but he’s not, so that’s besides the point. And thankfully, he’s just petty enough to blame all of his problems on a thirteen year old girl.

or Sakusa starts wearing hair clips and Atsumu is more than a little obsessed

my notes: minor kagehina, bokuaka // god these fics rlly make me simp for fictional characters even more than i should. but!! sakusa!!! in hairclips!!! and a pining atsumu!!!

learn how to lay me down in something other than danger, other than fury by rosevtea

words: 34,211 chapters: 1/1

author summary: All of the ways fellow college TA Miya Atsumu reinvents Kiyoomi's definition of normal.

my notes: god i loved this. it’s a fake dating au and like,, even though they’re “dating” sakusa keeps letting his guard down little by little around atsumu and it surprises everyone. komori and akaashi just know that they’re were genuinely pining for eachother

among probabilities and a thousand fates by aalphard

rating: T words: 15,675 chapters: 1/1

author summary: prompt fill for “in a world where the red string of fate exists, person a’s finger always twitches when person b, who can see the string, tugs on their string” | or sakusa thought he had a tic and atsumu liked to see his confused expression when it started to happen exclusively when he was around.

my notes: i! loved! it!! so basically atsumu and osamu have the rare gift of seeing the red string of fate, so they know its real but sakusa, like most other people dont believe it exists. so atsumu gives sakusa a (kinda) hard time. rlly cute!! i love soulmate aus!

-bokuaka-

love in the time of wifi by dalyeau

rating: G words: 4,177 chapters: 1/1

author summary: Akaashi is coming to terms with the fact that he might be romantically interested in his volleyball captain. Hence, doing what any sixteen year old with a problem should do. He asks about it online.

my notes: really cute fic about akaashi asking what he should do about his crush on a site similar to reddit. its kinda a “i didnt know it was you” kind of fic and it made me happy

steam by orphan_account

rating: E words: 8,474 chapters: 1/1

author summary:

bokuto: why is he so hot bokuto: why am i so gay kuroo: LMAO you mean your vice captain right bokuto: yeah

The coach blew the whistle for practice to begin, and Bokuto drummed his fingers against the bleachers, awaiting Kuroo’s reply. He was about to walk away, when his phone buzzed in his hand.kuroo: i got this bro bokuto: what bokuto: wtf does that mean

Bokuto started to panic.

my notes: explicit!!! but really wholesome. kuroo is honestly the best wingman. i also think this is my favourite bokuaka smutfic??

just to miss the sun by rosevtea

rating: T words: 15,126 chapters:1/1

author summary: Everything begins to implode when MSBY Jackals outside hitter Bokuto Koutarou crashes Akaashi's livestream.

my notes: akaashi is a booktuber and bokuto crashes one of his streams. fans begin to speculate. rlly fluffy and can u tell i like bokuaka

brain fish by iceblinks

rating: T words: 12,026 chapters: 6/6

author summary: Akaashi wakes up to a string of texts from an unknown number.

my notes: i love text fics and i love wrong number aus so u can tell how much i loved this. really fluffy and i come back to it time to time

-kuroken-

us three by honey_s

rating: T words: 5,137 chapters: 1/1

author summary: Kuroo’s gaze flits over to the utensil. His eyes bulge out of his skull. “Wh—is that a meat hammer? Put it back!” Akaashi’s head recoils back in confusion. “I don’t understand the problem here.” “Why on Earth have you got a fucking meat hammer? We aren’t going to kill somebody!” “Well,” Akaashi begins, clearly taken aback, “I apologise for assuming. I had heard Kenma-san had been hurt in school and after getting a message from both of you to meet late at night, I merely filled in the blanks and assumed we were going to beat someone up, for lack of a better term.” “Not literally! I meant metaphorically, or figuratively, or something!” “Idiomically?” “That isn’t a word, Bokuto-san.” “Jesus Christ,” Kuroo groans, dropping his head into his hands. “We're going to jail."

my notes: bokuaka and kuroo are ready to beat someone up for kenma!! and we stan!!

Cherry Pits and Cat Tattoos by strawberryriver

rating: G words: 6,141 chapters: 1/1

author summary:

Kuroo has been in communication with his soulmate ever since they were kids. They've known each other for so long that he never really worried about when or how he would meet them. At least, not until he meets the roommate of Bokuto's soulmate.Soulmate AU in which things written on your skin show up on your soulmate. Companion piece/same AU as Serendipty

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

Kuroo Tetsurou liked to write on his arms. Despite his mother's half-serious warnings about “ink poisoning” or staining his skin, he insisted on marking his arms and legs wherever he could. Not like his best-friend-since-always Bokuto Koutaro, who had to write on his arms or he’d forget to breathe, but artfully. He’d draw designs, animals, the occasional chemical compound. The whole idea behind soulmates fascinated him: how one person could mark their arm and someone potentially thousands of miles away, would have that same mark appear. The amount of articles, studies, and books he’d read about the topic, even at a young age, could put an undergrad researcher to shame.

my notes: again with the soulmate au bc i cannot help myself. but really cute!!! probably gonna read this again later!

Boom, Toasted by protostar (hearthope)

rated: T words: 6,782 chapters: 1/1

author summary:

FROM: yuuji any bets on who hes texting??

FROM: eita He's smiling at his phone. Kuroo, probably

FROM: kentarou Kuroo

TO: fake family Have any of you ever once considered not prying

FROM: eita You deserve it

FROM: yuuji how can we not when ur in love!!

Kenma gets a text from an unknown number. He'd be lying if he said the guy behind it wasn't kind of endearing.

my notes: again, i love wrong number texts. it focuses more on kenma’s friendship, but kenma’s pov with texting kuroo is more than him realizing feelings and stuff. really cute, ive read it multiple times.

Japan's most subscribed by NeverNothing

rating: T words: 3,631 chapters: 1/1

author summary: Kuroo Tetsurou @blacktetsurou changed his bio : volleyball player, co-owner of Bouncing Ball Corp. and so much more ;)

my notes: i! love! social media! fics!!! really cute and basically people wondering who the mysterious kuroo is to applepi.

MATSUHANA!!! the underrated gem

texting (with a capital S) by parenthetic

rating: M words: 2,119 chapters: 1/1

author summary: Hanamaki breaks his No Texting In Class rule, and it's all downhill from there.

my notes: honestly more funny than it suggests, but its matsuhana, they’re meme lords.

rated m for by orphan_account

rated: T words: 10,692 chapters: 1/1

author summary: He should have known that there was a Specific Reason™ why it was so absolutely vital that he and Matsukawa specifically meet for a reading of the script. He should have known that there had to be some evil catch beyond sitting in a tiny, cramped studio with his newly sworn enemy.

Hanamaki stares at the title of the script he’d so gracefully neglected the night before.

FORBIDDEN PARADISE

“Excuse me,” Hanamaki starts, raising a pen in the air while staring blankly at the packet in his free hand. “Just to clarify, you want me to record a boy's love CD with Matsukawa?”

my notes: a very good voice actor au. there is some misunderstanding on hanamaki’s part bc he didnt finish listening to matsukawa, and this is really cute and i love matsuhana.

In A Quiet Night, All Sounds Carry by levyovochka

rating: E words: 4,794 chapters: 1/1

authors summary: “Ah, ah, Too—!”

Hanamaki hates his university dorm.

“—ru, let me cum, please!”

Hold up. That’s a fucking understatement. Let him rephrase it: Hanamaki loathes his university dorm with passion. Detest the damned abomination, abhors it—

“—ru! Coming, coming—”

It has only been a month and Hanamaki already wants to die.

my notes: as u can guess minor iwaoi // rlly well written and bottom hanamaki rights and maybe my favourite matsuhana smutfic??? and hooh boy i simp for matsukawa

call me maybe by totooru

rating: T words: 33,689 chapters: 14/14

author summary: Hanamaki texts the wrong number when trying to extort tips out of Oikawa in order to defeat Iwaizumi in arm wrestling, and then continues to text the witty stranger who had answered.

my notes: minor iwaoi, daisuga, bokuaka // god i think this is my favourite matsuhana fic overall, maybe in general, but my god is it great. this is probably a common rec, but its understandable as to why it is. basically au where makki texts matsun (who goes to karasuno) instead of oikawa for tips to beat iwaizumi at an arm wrestling match. but they keep messaging. and holy shit i love their conversations. please read this, it is 256/10

there we go!! i might go a part two with more ships (kagehina, tsukkiyama and iwaoi) but this took up way to much time lol. i have an essay due in a couple hours. but hope u like these fics as much as i do!!

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luisjuanmilton · 4 years ago

Note

ohhh, can you write number 4 with sewis? :))))

I love writing Sewis so much thank you for this (I also got really carried away sorry about that 🌚)

Sewis + “a hug after not seeing someone for a long time”

Send me a pairing and a prompt if you want :)

Sebastian was bouncing his knee up and down in a rapid motion, knowing that he was coming increasingly closer to have Britta snap at him but finding himself unable to stop.

The start of the bloody pandemic coincided with one of his visits to Maranello, and no matter how hard he tried to find a way out of Italy there was nothing he could do about it. He did have a house there so that part wasn’t the problem.

No, the problem was that he had left his husband back at their Switzerland home, and it had been almost four months since he had last seen him.

Obviously, they had been Face Timing literally everyday (even if it had taken a while for Sebastian to get the hang of it, since he was famously opposed to technology), but it wasn’t nearly the same as actually being in the same room as him.

Today was the first time they’d be seeing each other after spending so much time apart, and Seb literally felt like he would die if he had to spend even another hour away from him.

“Sebastian, I know you miss Lewis very much and I know how excited you are to see him, but please remember what we talked about”

He scowled at Britta’s words, not keen at all to follow the protocol she had told him about. Sebastian adored Britta, he really did, but right now he really didn’t want to do as she said.

“Sebastian”

“Yes, yes I remember. I’m not allowed to even shake my husband’s hand”

Britta rolled her eyes “It’s not like that and you know it. Most people don’t know about your relationship, so you have to keep socially distanced from him in front of the cameras”

Sebastian only scowled harder, and Britta let out a long-suffering sigh. Sometimes, she thought, he still acted like the twenty-year-old gremlin she’d started working with years ago.

Their car pulled up at the Red Bull Ring after what must have been 20 minutes at most but still felt like hours to Sebastian, and he was the first to get out of it as soon as they parked.

He ignored Britta’s voice as he quickly made his way further into the paddock, pursing his lips under his mask as he had to stop and get his temperature checked and slather antibacterial gel on his hands.

The rational part of him knew that all those safety measures were very necessary, but he was past being rational.

As soon as he was given the go-ahead, he continued to jog towards where he knew the Mercedes garage was, and he couldn’t even bring himself to feel bad about how he was literally ignoring everyone who tried to stop him and say hi.

When he finally reached the silver and blue garage he started to madly look around for his husband, and just as he was about to break about thirteen FIA rules and make a mad dash into another team’s facilities, he heard a very familiar voice calling his name.

“Sebastian!”

Seb turned around so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash, and as he caught sight of Lewis standing just a few feet away from him, looking as beautiful as he ever did even while a mask covered half his face, he felt tears brimming in his eyes.

“Lewis!” he called back, wasting no more time before running towards his husband and all but launching himself into his arms.

Lewis caught him with the ease of someone who’d being doing that very same thing for more than five years, burying his hands in Sebastian’s blonde hair, and letting out a shaky breath.

The German truly felt like his heart was going to implode by how fast it was beating, and he couldn’t help himself from running his hands all over Lewis’s back before moving to his shoulders, his neck and finally his hair, almost as if he wanted to make sure that he was actually there.

“God, I missed you so much” Lewis breathed out, the pained tone of his voice making Sebastian’s heart clench as he tightened his arms around him even harder.

“I missed you more my love”

After that Sebastian leaned backwards slightly, just enough so that he could see right into those brown eyes he loved so dearly.

Lewis brought a hand up to cradle Sebastian’s face, and the German sighed contently as he felt the coldness of his golden wedding ring even through the mask.

“I want to kiss you so badly, you have no idea”

And well, Sebastian had to use every ounce of self-control he had not to rip off both their masks and kiss him right then and there.

“Don’t worry darling, as soon as we’re alone I’ll make up for all the time we spent apart”

Before Lewis could answer a loud clearing of throat snapped them out of their little bubble, and when Sebastian turned his head to the right he gulped as he came face to face with a very angry looking Britta.

The couple smiled innocently out of force of habit, even if the woman wasn’t able to see it.

“Hey Britta” Lewis greeted sheepishly, dropping his hand from Sebastian’s face as he looked around them and noticed how every single camera was pointed towards them and how even many drivers had stopped on their tracks at their very dramatic reunion (he could make out Daniel exaggeratedly waggling his eyebrows all the way over at the Renault garage).

“Hey Lewis” Britta said after letting out a long-suffering sigh, and only then did Seb notice that Angela was standing a few feet behind her with her face resting on her palm.

“Just how much trouble are we in?” Sebastian asked, thinking it was better to rip it off like a band aid.

“I’ll have you two signing merch until your fingers cramp”

The two winced, knowing that she really wasn’t kidding.

But another look at Lewis’s face was enough for him to forget all about their imminent punishment, and he shamelessly linked their hands together, his stomach flipping around happily because of how right it felt to be able to do that again.

“Worth it” he declared cheekily, yelping as Britta slapped him across the head with the stack of papers she was carrying.

Even then, the sound of Lewis’s laughter made any pain he could have felt go away entirely.

#sewis #writing prompt #disclaimer: please follow health protocols lmao #sebastian vettel #lewis hamilton

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et-lesailes · 5 years ago

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missing linc // chapter eight

series masterlist

pairing: ceo!dad!steve x reader

word count: 2620

chapter summary: a little backstory on tiana’s relationship with steve, and stella’s.

WARNINGS: implications of rape and violence, please do not read if this makes you uncomfortable.

taglist: @viarogers , @evanstush , @chibi-crazy , @cevanswh0re , @songforhema, @sebabestianstan101 , @bval-1, @wonderwinchester, @poerebel , @gogomez-509 , @patzammit, @a-distantdreamer, @jbug491writinghelp, @broklynbby, @lille-kattunge, @rohaintahquil, @deidrashouseofpain, @firstangeldragonranch, @peach-acid, @allsortsofinterests, @xoxabs88xox, @honeyloverogers, @capsiclesdoll, @mcueveryday, @bangtan-serendipity, @heyyouwiththeassbutt, @cptn-sgrogers, @heyiamthatbitch, @captainscanadian, @kaithezaftig, @morganhoran1671, @booktease21, @hista-girl, @steeeeverogers, @okilover02, @sadella-adams, @rumoured-whispers, @aletteredaffair, @shannon124, @isawritesstories, @knuffeltuff, @wxntersoldiers, @kelbabyblue, @macgruberrr, @troublermalik, @societalfailure, @brastrangled, @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall, @anxiousstark, @captainsbxbygirl, @barbar126, @cevanswhores, @whimsicalatbest, @amazonian-strap-queen, @bookish-shristi, @hannie-stark, @beardburnsupersoldiers, @babyhua, @kind-sober-fullydressed, @whores4thor, @gingerninjaprincess16, @straightforwardly, @danathewitchywoman, @rosee-sensuelle, @angelicdisgrace, @thoughtfulcollectormaker, @sammyslonglostshoe, @mizariomi, @jadedhillon, @bohemian-barbie, @marvelouspottering, @denisemarieangelina, @mango--mango, @frencchfries, @xlanawriter, @littlemoistcarrot, @pottxrwolff, @arianatheangelworld, @ifuseekamyevans, @lovehatekickscream, @southerngracela, @nsfwsebbie

notes: okay FINALLY back home from traveling and FINALLY updating. i know you guys miss steve/reader interactions, but seeing this is more of an actual story with several relations involved, there’s a lot to unpack here so i apologize. maybe i’ll make it up to ya in the next chapter ;) as usual please give me feedback, i’m interested to see how you feel about all the characters after this! this is also a taglist check-- if you are on this taglist and do not at LEAST give this post a like within the week, i will be removing you!

TIANA

They met in graduate school. Both in their early twenties, figuring out life, trying to balance the demanding expectations of their classes and the fun times with their friends.

They had been in the “honeymoon phase” since before they even started dating. Tiana remembered every single detail about the night they first met. A mutual friend’s party, she was wearing a brand new top she had just bought that day itself on a spontaneous shopping trip with her best friends paired with jeans that made her legs look amazing, as Steve would tell her later that night. It was practically a cliche movie moment; they locked eyes across the room and couldn’t stop staring. Steve approached her, his blue eyes bright, blond hair neatly trimmed, jawline chiseled, the sleeves of his nice shirt hugging his built biceps. If she wasn’t in love already, their conversation was even more appealing. They found a corner to themselves and talked about everything under the sun. The little things, such as the weird insect Steve found under a rock while he was camping when he was six and the best piece of pizza Tiana had ever eaten in her life in New York City just last week. The big things, too. Steve reflecting on his mother’s death when he was young, and Tiana discussing her experiences with bulimia when she was a mere middle schooler.

She had never felt so comfortable with someone in her life. It didn’t take long for them to start dating. They had received plenty of criticism from all their friend groups. “You’re jumping into this too fast.” “It won’t last if you rush things.” “Don’t you want to get to know each other better first before putting a label on this?”

She knew every part of him. And he, her. He was truly her other half. And she, his.

He was a big romantic. On her twenty-fifth birthday, he surprised her by using money he had saved up to rent out the small diner her parents would take her and her sister out to dinner every Sunday night-- for a small and intimate party for her and their friends. One particular Christmas when she expressed being a little sad they did not yet have a proper home to decorate in pretty lights, he strung up lights around the inside of the entire apartment while she was at work, even putting up an inflatable snowman in their bedroom. She could still remember coming home that day, tired and weary, only to be met with absolute joy and brightness. The snowman looked so adorably ridiculous inside their tiny bedroom, she had burst out laughing and couldn’t stop for the next five minutes.

She could remember all of this vividly. It was when things all went wrong that it was a bit of a blur.

Steve studied hard. He worked hard. He found the time for her, it was never time management that had been a problem. He worked his way up in his company until he decided he wanted to start his own. It was a huge investment, but he had been saving. He refused to accept financial help from her-- not that she was in any better position. She had a great job as a data security analyst, but she was nowhere near as senior as Steve already was. She was getting there, but he was older, and he had put in more time to his business degree and certifications. This was something he had wanted since he was young.

And so he followed his dreams. He started a company, and it was incredibly small at first. Still, she was proud of him. More proud than she had ever been of anyone in her life. Watching him have so much ambition and drive only motivated her to do better. And so she did; she worked hard, making her way up her own company, doing whatever she could to be a girlfriend Steve could continue being proud of.

Perhaps it was this pressure that made their relationship implode.

He had never given this pressure to her. She could acknowledge this. He never acted in a way that made her feel inferior, in a way where he thought he was better for being a big CEO. She supposed she was the one who put the pressure on herself, who continued to feel more and more insecure as she watched her boyfriend, eventually fiance, eventually husband’s company grow and grow, his responsibilities becoming bigger and bigger. They had less time together, but when they did have time, he made up for it. He was always good about that. He always made it a point to communicate with her, to tell her in advance when he was busy, and to always ask and be genuinely curious about her day and how she was doing.

He was the perfect partner. And she felt like she was not.

She started to lash out more. Perhaps subconsciously pushing him away so that she did not have to face her insecurities so directly while standing next to him. She became more irritable, she spent more time with her own friends and prioritized them over him. He was confused, sad, upset-- it was all an ugly, convoluted mess. She hated herself more and more each time she broke his heart, but she continued to do it. His sadness began to turn into anger. “What did I do to you, Tiana? What did I do that was so wrong?” he would yell, his eyes even wet with tears from his frustration. “Why are you acting like this?” She didn’t know why she couldn’t tell him. She used to be able to tell him anything, and now she felt so small and insignificant next to him. She felt like she wasn’t doing enough. The more oblivious he was to this matter, the less he could help her or reassure her that this was not the case. It was not his fault. It was hers.

She knew that.

They decided to spend some time apart. Not an official break up, but a break, as much as she hated that term. They needed it. She needed to be alone, to work through her insecurities and crippling low self-esteem. He simply needed to be away from the confusing trainwreck that she was. They did not completely cut off communication; they checked in with each other at least once or twice a week, and that eventually turned into occasionally grabbing coffee or lunch together. It was like the process of dating all over again, and it was actually refreshing. She did not feel the pressure that came with living in the same home with him, watching all of his work endeavors and feeling shitty with her own. They could take it nice and slow, and she was enjoying it.

She thought he was, too.

Four months into their odd, friendship-slash-dating relationship, Steve called her one night, close to midnight. He sounded somber. Tired. Guilty. Ashamed. Scared, even. “We need to talk. In person. Can I come over?” She remembered her heart racing fast. The worst scenarios popped into her mind, one-by-one. Had he decided he no longer wanted anything to do with her? Had she messed up somehow, and didn’t even know it? Was he okay-- had he been diagnosed with some type of life-threatening disease, had he been in an accident? Was his family okay-- was there a death, did he need to travel home? Every single possible situation played out in her mind, anxiety racking her brain.

Never had she imagined that Steve would come to her home to tell her that he had gotten another woman pregnant.

Never had she imagined that this woman was her own, twenty-two-year-old sister.

STELLA

Stella had always felt like the black sheep of the family.

She was the late addition suffering from the terrible cliche of having a perfect, older sister while she herself was the mischievous troublemaker, always up to no good. There was a thirteen year age difference between herself and Tiana, and because of this, it was difficult for the two to ever get close. The more she watched Tiana excel in academics, extracurriculars, and relationships, the less motivated she became. She figured being the less successful sibling without actually trying to do better was easier-- if she did actually try and fail, how would she ever feel any better about herself?

She barely managed to make it through high school, and the only reason she did was because her parents forced her to. She certainly was not going to college. She picked up different jobs and eventually moved out of her family’s house, tired of her parents’ lectures and nagging. The shitty little apartment she resided in with two random roommates in the most dangerous part of the city felt far more like home than her birth home ever did.

She had her looks going for her. She was the complete opposite of her sister, who while also pretty, took more after their father. Stella was her mother’s daughter; the classic supermodel body, blonde locks with natural waves, amber eyes, heart shaped face. She used this to her advantage. Her income consisted not only of her job as a bartender, but of being a sugar baby to random older men in the city. She refused to have sex with them. They were alright with this. They just wanted her company.

People could get desperate when they were lonely enough. Her string of one-night-stands proved she knew this.

She began modeling for an amateur photographer. Shoots in cute sweaters, leggings, and boots in the New York autumns turned into risque poses in strappy bikinis and high heels in the summer. It wasn’t long before the top came off, soft hands and long fingers shielding her breasts as she looked blankly into the camera.

The photographer wanted her to reveal even more. She declined.

He did not take that so well, despite being her own boyfriend.

She was twenty-two, bruised and black eyed as she stumbled out of his ratty apartment, legs sore and aching with tears running down her cheeks-- only to make her sob even more from the pain that came with the mere action of crying. She had gotten herself into a lot of sticky situations in the concrete jungle, but she was finally starting to feel fear.

She wasn’t sure why Steve Rogers was the first person who came to mind. Steve, her older sister’s golden boy, whom she had only met a few times at family dinners she actually bothered to show up to only when she needed free food. Perhaps because he was actually nice to her. Sure, maybe he was only being polite because he needed to impress his girlfriend’s parents. But sometimes, it seemed like he actually cared when he asked her how bartending was going and if she was safe and secure staying in the city. He did not seem judgmental in the slightest that she had passed on attending college, despite being a total scholar and businessman himself. He had even told her she was welcome to his and Tiana’s apartment any time, if she ever needed a place to crash; she remembered the dirty look Tiana had given him the second he had made this offer.

When was the last time she had even seen him? It had been a while.

She slowly took out her phone and pulled up his number. She only had it because Tiana had texted her from it one time when her phone was dead, telling her she better be at Thanksgiving dinner in order to not disappoint their grandparents who knew absolutely nothing about her mess of a situation.

When he told her that he and Tiana were separated, she was shocked. She would have never seen it coming. She remembered the way they’d look at each other, how they’d laugh over the dumbest things, how she had never seen her sister look so happy in the entire time she knew her.

He still wanted to help her, though. How could he not? She had been a sobbing mess on the phone as she recounted everything she had just gone through, all while wondering why she was suddenly being so trusting with a man she hardly knew. Perhaps because he was the only man in her life that actually seemed dependable.

She arrived to his apartment and he was shocked upon seeing her face. He wanted to call her parents, but she practically screamed at him not to. Begged. She couldn’t handle that, she could barely even handle being so vulnerable with him. He was reluctant but obliged, though insisted she stay with him in case her now ex-boyfriend tried to hunt her down and hurt her even more. She agreed, but was instantly on edge again once he told her he wanted to tell Tiana. “No. No, Steve, please, you can’t. She’ll drag me to my parents’ house, she’ll lecture me, she’s just-- she’s going to be a total bitch. I’ll stay here only for a few days tops then figure something out on my own. Please.”

Again, he reluctantly obliged.

She did not only stay for a few days. She found herself opening up to him more and more, she actually enjoyed spending time with him.

Strangely enough, she never developed feelings for him, nor he for her. It was a strong friendship, a strong bond, a good connection-- but all purely platonic. Perhaps it was her subconscious, reminding her that this man was involved with her sister. She knew they were still seeing each other from time to time, though it was nothing committal or exclusive. He had explained to her what had gone wrong between them, and she listened. Even offered him advice, based on the limited knowledge she had about her own sister’s personality and interests.

He kept pleading for her to let him tell Tiana that she was staying there, and she kept begging him not to. He was beginning to feel more guilty. Stella might as well have been living with him at that point.

“I’ll move back to my parents’.” She finally said one day, and he looked at her in surprise. “What? You hated living there. Besides, once you move back they’d never let you leave that place again. Especially if they find out everything that’s happened to you.”

“I’ll figure it out. You shouldn’t have to keep lying to my sister.”

And so it was decided. She would return home the next day, and Steve could live with at least a little less of a guilty conscience.

Or so they had thought. Their last night together turned from a simple pizza and movie night with beer to going out and hitting the bars, celebrating her last night in the heart of the city before she would have to return to her parents’ home outside of it. After several drinks and a fun night of dancing, the two came back to Steve’s apartment.

The rest was history.

They did not speak to each other even once after that night-- at least, not until the day she found out she was pregnant with Steve Rogers’ child. From there, she, Steve, and Tiana would be tangled up in one messy situation for the next nine months, until she could finally have the little blond, blue-eyed child and be free from her family thanks to Steve’s money supporting her in the city while he and Tiana moved and took the baby with them.

She had never wanted it, anyways. There was no way someone like her could be a mother.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #steve rogers au #steve rogers x you

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hostclubtotallysaidthis · 5 years ago

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🌃🕯🥀 with Kyoya please I love your blog btw ❤️❤️

Memory Prompts | Heavy TW for suicide and suicidal thoughts!!

🕯- A sad memory they would rather forget

Kyoya stood, staring at the wooden door with wide eyes. He didn't know if he should go in, even though he wanted to. His mother was sick and needed rest, she'd lost a lot of blood and stopped breathing. Her brunette hair was messy and greasy, and dark bags lay beneath the eyes that were so much like his.

They were always compared, looks-wise. He was a tiny version of his mother, one of the reasons why she let him keep his hair at shoulder length. He was as pretty as a little girl, as pretty as her, and it made the two of them feel... closer. Even if he went weeks without seeing her, he could just look in the mirror and see the parts of her he was given.

She always seemed to need her rest, but he had to see her now. He came so close to... She almost died, and he wouldn't have said goodbye. He wouldn't be able to hug her, kiss her cheek, and listen to her sing. It felt almost selfish to think of it in those terms, but he loved her so much and he couldn't bear to think of the hole she'd leave in his heart.

Taking hold of his resolve, he pulled open the door and stepped inside the clinical, sterile room. He knew hospital rooms had to be clean, but the smell of antiseptic and iodine was pungent, and paired with something disgustingly stale. It didn't suit her. She loved flowers, and the best perfumes, and silk sheets and... and...

"Baby boy."

Her face and voice were both warm and cotton soft when he finally let his gaze lay on her, sitting up in that awfully uncomfortable bed, but he wasn't fooled into thinking she was alright. Bandages lay thickly around her forearms, and she definitely had stitches. Her eyes were puffy, raw and red, bloodshot from the tears she must have cried when she awoke. His father had explained to him, after all, in more detail than an eight-year-old should know.

She wanted to die and was disappointed she was saved. It hurt. A searing pain wrapped around his heart when he thought about it, that none of them could convince her to stay.

Fighting his own tears, he rushed forward and climbed onto the bed, trying to be careful of the various IVs and wires attached to her slim frame. She didn’t push him away, didn’t tell him that he shouldn’t, simply cradled the back of his head and wove her fingers between the soft, black strands, kisses carefully pressed into his hair.

“It’s okay, baby boy,” She cooed, so sure that she could convince him of that. But she couldn’t, because he knew. He knew since he first saw her bleeding out on the bathroom floor.

She wasn’t okay.

🌃- A time they got to admire the beauty of a city

The suite was painfully impressive, even to a sheltered young boy raised in a mansion his whole life. Several rooms decorated in such a lush and overtly gaudy fashion which honestly disgusted his own sensibilities; a room doesn't need to be gold-gilded to show it was luxurious. He was a much bigger fan of the usual minimalism - monochromatic and glass surfaces gleaming in warm lamplight.

Still, he supposed he'd keep his mouth shut, considering the most likely outrageous cost and the fact that his father was nice enough to bring his youngest with him, opposed to his older brothers. It should be treated as an honour, even if it was simply because the other three children were too busy with their studies.

"Not that he asked me," Fuyumi had grumbled, but didn't elaborate further. She just stuck her nose back in her biology textbook, as if she hadn't uttered a single syllable.

Despite his dislike of the décor, what drew his eye was the view.

Panoramic windows lined the room, the night scenery laying beyond, and Kyoya had never seen Tokyo that beautiful. There were no stars, thanks to the light pollution, but thousands of lights were dotted around the city. Even if loud, bright, obnoxious advertisements made themselves known without a hint of apology, it was somehow captivating. Perhaps it was his lack of familiarity with cityscapes - let alone one like this - due to the Ootori estate having acres of land, but it was so absolutely breath-taking.

All he seemed to be able to do was walk over to the window in a daze, taking in every detail that became clearer the closer he came. His fingertips brushed the cool glass, his breath fogging an almost perfect, white-hued circle; it made the city beyond look even more dreamlike.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" His father finally chimed in, depositing their suitcases by the sofa for the moment, "I hate the room, but this makes it all worth the tackiness of it all. Don't you agree?"

He nodded, not knowing quite what to say, and reached for the window latch, feeling the need for a little fresh air. However, it opened maybe an inch, and was stuck. He tried to force it, but his father merely took a breath.

"There's no point in trying, Kyoya," He stated, "They don't open any further. With wealth like this comes much stress and pressure, and there have been... incidents."

"Like with mum?" He replied without thinking, almost instant, and regretted it as soon as those poorly chosen words left his tongue. His father took a deep breath, and he could see his reflection in the glass, racking a hand through his hair.

“Kyoya, do you know why I took you out here?” He inquired, “I wanted you to… Get away from that for a little while. It’s not good for you.”

He didn’t argue with that. In fact, after their “conversation”, Kyoya didn’t say another word all evening, bombarded by thoughts one certainly shouldn’t utter aloud.

It’s certainly high enough. If I jumped from here, I doubt I’d ever get up again…

🥀- A memory about death and grief

Here he was, soon to disappear and leave behind... What?

Kyoya groaned, all but slamming the bottle of pills on the bathroom counter for what had to be the fifth time that hour, at least. His head couldn't shut up about killing himself, but of course he couldn't do it peacefully and with dignity. That'd be far too much to ask for Kyoya Ootori!

It certainly wasn't the first time his consideration to end it all took him to the bathroom, but it was the first time he held the sedatives in his hand, summoning the will to swallow them all. They weren't a painless death - far from - but it was convenient. Slitting wrists and throats had to have a certain precision his shaking hands wouldn't be able to muster, drowning tended to have a low success rate, as self-preservation kicks in. With pills, he could swallow them down, and then go take a nap.

While unpleasant to think about, if he aspirated his own vomit, it would at least be quick, as long as he wasn't found.

But no, all of those perfectly reasonable things weren't what were making him hesitant. He'd like to act like the weeping martyr, say how he didn't want to hurt his family, and turn away. Not to get help, of course, because if you truly were the golden-hearted sob story, then your issues would dissolve into thin air and you'd just be happy again.

No, he's hesitant for fully selfish reasons.

Legacy is such an important thing, and what has he accomplished in his thirteen years of yearning? Nothing of note. He doesn't have friends, he's a good student but thoroughly average for an Ootori, no extra curriculars or talents that would make others think "Oh, he's that kid!"

Will the servants set a place for him at the table, before removing the cutlery and continuing their day a little more melancholic? Will his brothers miss him? Will Fuyumi cry over him? Will his father soldier through with his usual stoicism, before finally breaking down in the privacy of his office?

He can't imagine that. He can't imagine any thoughts of him after he walks out of his life. Because why would they? He can't imagine anyone truly caring anymore. He was too sad, too lethargic, too cold. His pretty looks also seemed to slip through his fingers like the dry, brittle strands of hair that fell from his hair. Even the vainest, shallowest of reasons to notice someone had abandoned him. He wouldn't even mind it if he was purely ornamental to someone, not anymore.

He growled deep in his throat, bile creeping up, and his chest was far too tight. He didn't know what he wanted - leave and be unremarkable, or struggle on and suffer. He wanted to rest, to stop fighting for once. Leave the battlefield for new planes.

But no. He couldn't. Not until he could say that people would at least call his death a shame - and mean it. A star turning supernova before imploding.

Yeah, right; like that could ever happen.

#ouran high school host club #OHSHC #Kyoya Ootori #Yoshio Ootori #Kyoka Ootori #suicide tw

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missanthropicprinciple · 4 years ago

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*sigh*

tonight has not been fun

actually, the whole day has been constant low-level stress

and yes, I know all this shit is trivial so feel free to not even read this I just have to vent before I implode

got up “early” after going to sleep at 4am cause I was wired AF and decided that’s when I needed to look at old movie books to calm the hell down which didn’t totally work

my therapist called about five minutes early this morning (WHICH LITERALLY NEVER HAPPENS) so I had to go downstairs for my coffee which was still brewing at the time

good session but he has a lot of faith in my mom’s “progress” which I keep telling him is transitory because the progress I make with her is completely demolished and I have to re-build my boundaries on an almost daily basis (but other than that it was good)

she was ticked at me for taking long to get ready to go out but I had so much to do and spent time on makeup and even though I rushed a bit she was still ticked at me

wasted an hour trying to find out how to download last night’s presentation and now I have to do a screen recording but I’m out of internet and the connection at mom’s is slow (0.81Mbps download and .45Mbps upload - not joking) - more on this later

shopping was ok-ish and I did get a nice Steve Madden bag so I can stop using my 15-year-old Jansport on my weekly trips back to mom’s

before we left today we mixed the dough for the butter cookies (Russian tea cakes even though we’re German and not Russian but grandma must have found the recipe in Better Living in the mid-sixties)

I rushed my dinner so I could talk to a dear friend who wants me tutor her niece in grammar. All my mother could find to say about that is “how would you report that” and like, $15 a week is not real income sooo???

Also, now I’m concerned because how am I going to teach? I feel like a failure and I haven’t even done anything yet

we baked aforementioned cookies

Xfinity WiFi on-demand passes are no longer available for purchase. This is a huge pain in the ass because now I have to either 1) do without internet at my apartment and rely totally on hotspot data which runs out real quick, or 2) set up pre-paid Xfinity which will cost me $80 and then I can top that up when I need it (I will have to use the latter but not before Christmas)

this is a dilemma of sorts because I’m watching Netflix with a friend on Sunday when I will be at my apartment because I can’t go my usual Monday through Friday as Thursday is Christmas Eve and it’s set to snow on Wednesday so I’ll only have Sunday night and Monday night at my place so I can get a minute’s peace before the holiday

I need time to myself for shadow work and to restore a sense of calm but my every move is a negotiation or I have to contend with a pay wall

my tiny little chest stabbing is back (Precordial catch syndrome?? It seems like it anyway)

also I can’t find this little silk scrunchie I’ve had since I was like thirteen and I think it’s probably still at my apartment but I remember that a pocket of my bag was partially unzipped and so now I’m worried that it fell out when I was rushing to mom’s suv last week

not had a moment to check on my place as I wanted to and so now I fear that one or more of my plants are suffering

and then the finale of The Mandalorian is on in a half hour and I am not looking forward to getting my soul crushed whatever happens

#personal #had to vent sorry #tl dr

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eabhaalynn · 5 years ago

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Why You Should Support Your Local Coffee Shop - Five Years of Follow Coffee Co

Ballymena is a fairly unremarkable Co. Antrim Town, better known for its dedication to the DUP than for its coffee establishments. You may know it as the town of Ian Paisley Jr. famous for his father and being the first ever MP subject to a recall petition. You may even know it as the “Drugs Capital of the North.”

Follow Coffee Co. is an independently owned café that, as far as I know, popped up on a pedestrianised shopping street in the shadow of the Tower Centre in Ballymena’s town centre at some stage in 2014. The glass shop front is framed with bright yellow paint and criss-crossed with metal panes, splitting both the sunlight in summer months and streetlights in the dark days of Christmas. To the left side of the building’s centre lies a heavy glass door, the geometric logo of the shop sitting front and centre above it, and illustrated in frosted glass to it’s side.

(Image Credit: Debbie Murray (insta @/followcoffee)

Inside, the design is fresh and modern, a stark and yet refreshing contrast to the traditional appearance of the town outside that has remained largely unchanged in my lifetime. Further contrast is shown on the very ground itself; wooden floors on one side, industrial concrete on the other. The stairs and two sides of the shop are bridged with diamond plate, further consolidating the image; and acknowledging the towns manufacturing history. The balcony of the top floor overlooks the entry way and provides the perfect spot for peoplewatching. At the far side of the café lies the counter, with pastries, buns, a giant blackboard, decorated with the ever-evolving lunch menu off to one side and a big, beautiful coffee machine there to greet you.

At some stage between Follow Coffee’s opening and today, my name has become synonymous with coffee drinking. Trust me, the word ‘coffee’ features in no less than five different people’s yearbook comments about me. It’s not that I’m blaming the place or anything, but when it opened, I didn’t even drink coffee.

SIX RECOMMENDATIONS FROM FOLLOW(one for each year hehe)

- Raspberry Hot Chocolate

- Hot Chocolate

- Mocha

- Iced Hazelnut Latte

- Hazelnut Latte

- The smoothie that has mango in it

My friends and I stumbled upon follow accidentally once when out of data and waiting for the 5.45pm 150 bus home. This was the epitome of life as a thirteen-year old in rural Ireland. The place had good, affordable hot chocolate and free wi-fi, and the girlsTM were bored. It was perfect. What more could we ever have asked for?

Before too long, I had convinced my dad and sister to ditch the usual chain coffee places and come to Follow with me. Luckily enough, the apple didn’t fall far from the tree and so they had the same love for the place that I do, the same love for independent coffee shops in general. Somewhat unsurprisingly, they fell in love. My GCSE years were upon me and I was spending more and more time in town. Honestly, I was spending more time awake and thus, the thriving caffeine dependency today was born. My Saturdays would usually involve a trip to Follow, I would bring schoolwork and stay for hours at a time, hiding myself in one of the upstairs booths and work away. The pressure of a public environment somehow always made me work harder and better.

The group of friends that I had found the place with soon imploded, as groups of young teenage girls so often do. But I didn’t mind, my newfound love for the place transcended those people, and after everything I still had so much respect for those girls. By that stage, I had befriended the Barista’s. After all, I had spent enough time bothering them at work with the intricate details of my life problems, and they were so kind and so like me that I just naturally made friends with them. Some of those friendships have even lasted to this day (more on that later).

When fifth year rolled around, I had become so disenfranchised with school, I started looking into sixth form options in town. When it became apparent that staying at my old school was no longer an option, I decided on St Louis Grammar. A brilliant school which offered me an escape from the people giving me grief, the opportunity to study the subjects I wanted and a town centre school environment, all just a twelve-minute walk away from Follow.

The winter of fifth year also was when I met my first ever boyfriend; and went on my first ever date. No prizes for guessing where that date was. Much alike the girlsTMmentioned earlier, that relationship crashed and burned. But Follow was always my place, is always going to be my place. Surely those experiences only helped to solidify it.

Sixth Form at St Louis was the best two years of my life. I have no hesitations in saying that. It was wonderful, beautiful, incredible, and yet stressful beyond belief. Because I have no common-sense AT ALL, I decided to start lower sixth off with four new a-levels, a new relationship, all these new friends … and … yet again, no surprises… a new job.

Being a Barista was always a bit of a dream of mine. I already had such a strong rapport with so many of Follow’s staff and regular customers (being one myself), from the outside, it seemed like the perfect contrast to the high stress lifestyle of sixth form at ‘’Northern Ireland’s top grammar.’’

Are you seeing a trend developing here? That plan went horribly wrong. I loved working at follow, but I was 16, a little baby. I was so stressed and had so much going on and so I only lasted a matter of months. But still; Follow had housed my first ever date and now my first ever job - Two of the most defining experiences of my teenage years. The place was becoming a second home to me. This was only further solidified by my new school, just twelve minutes away.

After quitting my job at follow, I started to study there from 3.30 to 5.30 a couple of times a week. It was a little treat, a friendly set of faces. The same people I’d been complaining to for years, but with even more substance this time. They knew all about my studies, after all, they were the reason I had left. My former colleagues had experienced the start of sixth form by my side. I studied there waiting on the same 150 bus I had been waiting on when I first found the place, all those years previously.

In lower sixth, I unsuccessfully ran for the UK Youth Parliament. The results for this came through when I was having my usual iced hazelnut latte and cry over a-levels in follow. The following summer, I sat the UKCAT, achieving a * slightly * better than average score, at the time I sat this, I didn’t know it would be better than average at all, the first people to hear all about it, and most other aspects of my University application were the staff of Follow. After passing my driving test in the winter of my Upper Sixth year, my first ever successful parallel park was on a street perpendicular to Follow, on a frosty February evening. Throughout that school year, I would consistently have to attend various mandatory revision classes for my three-surviving a-level subjects and the many resits I had reluctantly gotten myself into. Follow became a solace. The calm in the midst of the seemingly constant storm of a-levels. My former best work friend, simply became a best friend of mine. She got herself a house, became a real adult right in front of me. She was pursuing her passion for photography, doing incredibly well for herself. Then I got into medical school. Eventually.

In September 2019, I moved away. All I had ever wanted was right in front of me, a one-way plane ticket out of Northern Ireland and a place to study medicine.

For three months, I’ve been carving out a little life for myself in Lancaster. I have my own place, I am, slowly but surely, becoming a real adult. I am a far cry from the scared thirteen-year old that landed in that coffee shop desperately seeking wi-fi. Though somehow, almost a year after passing my driving test, I’m right back waiting for somewhat questionable bus services again. The 150 has turned into the dreaded 100. St Louis’ is but a happy-rose tinted memory. Lancaster Medical School has replaced the dreaded long days and mandatory revision classes with -perhaps- even more dreaded 6.30pm lectures and mandatory Problem Based Learning presentations.

Oddly enough, I am very single, and very unemployed, and truly very happy about it. This time in my life is as formative as those times I’ve been reflecting on. Even more so maybe.

But I’d be lying if I said everything in my new life in England is perfect. They say distance makes the heart grow fonder, and the latest development in me and Follow Coffee Co’s story is our long-distance phase. I miss it dearly, the familiarity it gave me throughout sixth form, the distinctive abrupt yet friendly nature of its Ballymena clientele. But it will always be there to welcome me home. It better be.

It took leaving for me to realise that you rarely find a place that means as much to you as Follow means to me, and that Starbucks and Costa rarely can give you the wealth of life experience of your favourite independent coffee shop. I have sat at every table in the place. Cried at most of them, over anything and everything from University rejections, to tiny irrelevant fights with strangers on the internet. I know every crevice of the tables, floors and skirting boards. I’ve even accidentally mopped the concrete floor and faceplanted it in my time.

Ballymena has many flaws, but it’s character and community is unmatched. No place illustrates that better to me than this. Go, visit your local independent coffee establishment. Maybe even get a job. You never know who you’ll meet, or what you’ll learn. This world is a beautiful place. Hell - Even Ballymena is.

#coffee #follow #northernireland #ballymena #modern #independent #independent coffee #jobs for teens #barista

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c-j-writes · 5 years ago

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Fictober 2019

Prompt #13 “I never knew it could be this way.”

[Untitled Gay Mess]

Rating: T

Warnings/Tags: Will involve drug abuse in some chapters

Chapter Thirteen

School was a whirlwind. The weeks seemed to be going by in a matter of days and hours. Which was surprising, given the amount of time I spent sitting around my house. The team was still avoiding me, but in the polite ‘we’ve got plans’ way. Darian still drove me to school, acting like everything was normal and the social status I’d had for the past three years wasn’t currently imploding. Kloe hadn’t given up on me yet and she even seemed to think I was improving, but I think she was full of shit on that point.

It didn’t matter though. As long as I stayed focused on the work, she wouldn’t start questioning me on anything else. She wouldn’t ask me about Mack anymore. Because I know I wouldn’t be able to handle that. As it was, sitting next to her at lunch was becoming a challenge. She’d meant it when she said she wouldn’t force me out, but she wasn’t making it easy. Leaning into me when she laughed and gazing at me longer than was necessary when I spoke. Every lunch period, I’d leave choking on the butterflies that had swarmed in my stomach.

It was like a twisted game she was playing, see how long it took for me to break and just out myself. But now there was more at stake. Not just my reputation or my scholarships or my spot on the team. Now Kloe was actually warming up to me and what kind of friend would I be if I stole the girl she was pining over? I mean, sure, technically I had her first, but still, that has to break some kind of bro code, right? So, I did my best to keep our sessions completely focused. No side conversations, no distractions. I’d never paid such close attention to math before, but you have to do what you have to do and avoidance was one of my best skills.

Mack, for her part, didn’t pressure me too much to talk to her in school. Nothing past casual lunchroom conversation. But she made a deal with me. She’d keep quiet, keep giving me time, as long as I was actively working towards coming out. Lucky for me, that’s not exactly something you can measure. I wasn’t proud of it, but if she didn’t realize now, she was never going to accept that coming out simply wasn’t an option for me. So, I’d let her sit there and believe I was going to someday and she’d smile and drive us to the beach after school. It was a win-win situation.

I was even trying to participate in the conversation at lunch more. Sure, I still felt like I was a temporary part of their crowd. Just there as a placeholder until my friends came to their senses. That’s why I still needed to limp off to the bathroom to take a break every day. Their energy was still too high for me. But it gets easier after every day that Mack meets me and wraps her arms around me or smiles through the mirror if we’re not alone.

Maybe this whole sneaking around thing wasn’t as bad an idea as I thought. The warm feeling in my chest every time I saw her almost outweighed the anxiety that followed. Maybe we could just keep this up until graduation.

That’s what was on my mind one day while I stood at the sinks in the bathroom, waiting for her to follow me. The door opened and I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face as I looked into the mirror and waited for her eyes to meet mine. But instead of green eyes and cedarwood and pine needles, my gaze met with Sophie. She raised an eyebrow and flipped her hair behind her back.

“Waiting for your girlfriend, Ands?” I looked down at the faucet, trying to keep the emotions from showing on my face like a neon sign.

“What are you talking about?” I wanted to be angry, but hearing her voice just made me think about how long it’s been since we’d even talked. She stepped forward and leaned against the sink next to me.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you sneaking off with your new best friend.” The bite to her words was noticeable and I didn’t want to think about what was spinning around her head.

“Someone sounds jealous.” I tried to give her a look, but I could tell the color was draining from my face.

“You wish.” She rolled her eyes. “Is that why you’ve been hanging out with the gay crowd all of a sudden?” I knew I should have defended them at that moment. That would have been the right thing to do. But every rational part of me just wanted this conversation to be over. I just wanted Sophie and I’s whole argument to be over.

I closed my eyes and took a breath before I spoke, summoning my inner peacemaker. “Soph, I don’t want to fight with you.” By the look on her face, she was shocked. I kind of was too, usually, I was the last person to back down from a fight. But I’d been noticing the absence in my life more and more. “I miss you. I miss having someone to talk to and hang out with and complain about my dad to. I miss having a best friend.” It wasn’t often I let myself be this vulnerable. Especially in front of Sophie because she tended to be a shark that attacked when she smelled blood. But lately, my heart and my brain have both been pretty adamant about honesty, so here we are.

Sophie’s face was stoic, not letting any hint of what she was feeling get through. We stood there, facing off in silence for a few seconds. Her calm and collected, me probably looking like someone had just punched me in the face. Then, she cracked a bit.

“I miss you too, Ands.” She sighed and looked at her own reflection.

“Why are we doing this?”

“Because you’re a stubborn asshole sometimes.” I fake glared at her, feeling some of the tension that’s been surrounding us for weeks ebb away.

“So are you.” I nudged her with one of my crutches.

“Listen, Ands, you know I’m not an idiot. I’m being safe, I wouldn’t get myself addicted and fuck up my life, I can handle it.” I didn’t believe her, but the part of me that wanted my old life back was outweighing the part of me that cared.

“I know…” I muttered it, not wanting to give in but knowing I had to. Sophie glanced over at me.

“But something was up before this. There’s been something going on with you for a while, I feel like you’ve been keeping things from me.” Her eyes were soft like we were back in her room and we were thirteen and she’d just told me about her parents getting a divorce. We didn’t have these moments of honesty that often, but they were always big. If this was going to work, I had to be honest. It was now or never.

Besides, she seemed okay with Mack when they were hanging out at that first party. Maybe she’d be okay with her. With us. Maybe it wasn’t such a longshot. It would be so nice to introduce her to my friends. The best of both worlds.

“What’s going on with you?” She prompted. I had to look away from her because I knew I couldn’t look her in the eye if I said this.

“I have to tell you something,” I started. My lungs filled with a deep breath to keep myself calm. I had yet to admit this without it triggering a panic attack. “I’m gay.” The hint of a smile stretched on my face. It was only the second time I’d said those words out loud, but it felt so much different. It was like a weight off my shoulders. Like I’d been holding myself underwater for years and finally came up for air.

After a few seconds, I let myself look up at Sophie. Her eyes were frozen on me, the soft look in them offering me a few more moments of hope.

“I never knew it could be this way,” she whispered. Then she slowly spun around and paced across the bathroom. “I mean, we always joked about it, but I never thought it was actually… that you were actually… I never imagined you were actually a dyke.” On her last word, she stared directly at me. Her eyes were getting darker, the softness dissipating as fast as it came. My entire body went cold.

“Sophie, I-”

“No, I don’t want to hear anything from you. I can’t believe you wouldn’t tell me this. How many times have we had sleepovers together, how many times have you watched me get dressed? What the hell, are you some kind of pervert?” My neck was heating up rapidly, I could practically see the blush spreading across my face.

“It was never like that!” I tried to keep up a brave face, but my eyes were stinging with tears before I could finish my statement.

“Sure it wasn’t,” she spat. My gaze fell to the ground because I couldn’t keep looking at her as her face grew more and more upset. I was trying to focus on my breathing because it was getting too fast, but her words were making my head spin. “God, I can’t imagine what your team would feel like. Do they even know? Are you even going to tell them?”

“Sophie, please, don’t tell anyone.” My voice was weak, my throat thick with unshed tears.

She looked at me and it was the first time I’d been on the other end of her cutthroat gaze like this. With a scoff, she started walking to the door. “I don’t owe you anything.” Just before she pulled open the door, she said, “What would your mother think?”

The door closed with a sharp bang and I flinched. My legs felt wobbly and my head was trying to keep up with what had actually just happened. Her words were still cutting through me as if she was still standing there throwing them at me.

I never looked at my team like that. I wouldn’t. But they wouldn’t think that. They wouldn’t see me anymore, they’d see the lesbian who’d shared a locker room with them for three years. Who’d seen things that boys were barred from for one specific reason. They’d never trust me again. If I weren’t off the team for existing as gay, they’d definitely get me kicked off for that.

My breathing was getting harsh, each scattered breath felt harder to get in. The tears in my eyes were nearly blinding me, but I wouldn’t let them fall. I couldn’t. Not here. Not now. I had to go somewhere. Do something. But my legs weren’t moving and I couldn’t do anything but stand there paralyzed.

Then my head wrapped around her last words and I felt like I might collapse. I didn’t even notice the door had opened again until Mack had grabbed either side of my face and made me look at her. My eyes weren’t focusing right and I knew she was talking to me, but I couldn’t pay attention to what she was saying. All I could think about were those words.

What would my mom think? She’d never know this about me. Never curl in disgust or smile in acceptance. Maybe she’d think I was disrespecting the sport by not being honest about it. By hiding that part of me. Maybe she’d hate me. But I’d never know either way.

Mack pulled me into her chest and wrapped her arms around me. The second my face hit her collarbone, I fell apart. I didn’t care who walked in and caught us. It didn’t matter. If Sophie knew something, the whole school might as well. The minute I walked out of this bathroom, I’d be a different person in everyone’s eyes. And there was nothing I could do about that anymore.

#untitled gay mess #fictober19 #my ocs #original story #she a bit short but she got the spirit #she a little late but she got the spirit #prompt 13

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books-and-cookies · 6 years ago

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THINGS I HAVE LEARNED FROM HARRY POTTER AND THE PRISONER OF AZKABAN (PART 2/?)

Part 1

Sorcerer’s Stone Chamber of Secrets

1. Listen, I know it’s been a hot minute since I last made one of these posts (okay, fine, it’s been like 4 months, stop judGING ME KAREN), but in my defense… uh…. I’m a lazy fuck?

2. But fear not, I am BACK (like the Backstreet Boys *cries in ‘00s pop*) and determined to keep going, until the sun implodes and we all die 3. So cheerful I am

4. I’m running on 4 hours of sleep and a coffee IV, don’t judge me 5. OKAY BACK TO BUSINESS, we last left Harry narrowly avoiding life in prison, because the Ministry of Magic is incapable of catching 1 (one) dangerous convict 6. Like, that is some tier 1 incompetence, my dudes 7. “It took Harry several days to get used to his strange new freedom” – me, every time I get more than a couple of days off work 8. You mean I don’t have to sit for 8+ hours in an office, pretending I don’t hate it with every fibre of my being and the demon’s that is possessing me? REALLY? What a Concept™ 9. “Never before had he been able to get up whenever he wanted or eat whatever he fancied” – friendly reminder that Harry’s life outside school is depressing as fuck, holy baby jesus, poor kid 10. “Once Harry had refilled his money bag with gold Galleons, silver Sickles, and bronze Knuts from his vault at Gringotts, he had to exercise a lot of self-control not to spend the whole lot at once. He had to keep reminding himself that he had five years to go at Hogwarts, and how it would feel to ask the Dursleys for money for spellbooks” – this tiny child is 13, I can’t exercise this much self control at 30 years old lol. Like, just mention the words “book sale” and my money flies from me faster than the cars in need for speed

11. “Each individually selected birch twig in the broomtail has been honed to aerodynamic perfection” – who even has the time for that, there are shows to be watched, food to be eaten, time to be wasted 12. Literally no one is surprised I am not a functional, well adjusted adult. Me in a nutshell, about my entire life:

13. “he had never lost a Quidditch match on his Nimbus Two Thousand, and what was the point in emptying his Gringotts vault for the Firebolt, when he had a very good broom already?” – Harry, my boy, where is this self control coming from?? Meanwhile, I know several people with 10 separate HP collected editions and plans to buy more because why have only one set, when you can have them ALL. 14. “we bought two hundred copies of the Invisible Book of Invisibility — cost a fortune, and we never found them” – whenever you want to prove that wizards are fucking useless, show people this sentence 15. “What are you doing Muggle Studies for?” said Ron, rolling his eyes at Harry. “You’re Muggle-born! Your mum and dad are Muggles! You already know all about Muggles!” – Ron legitimately has a point, pls don’t fight me on this 16. “Scabbers was looking thinner than usual, and there was a definite droop to his whiskers.” – Peter Scabbers knows doOM IS COMING 17. “You bought that monster?” said Ron, his mouth hanging open. “He’s gorgeous, isn’t he?” said Hermione, glowing” – dog people vs cat people 18. “Poor Crookshanks, that witch said he’d been in there for ages; no one wanted him” – honestly, props to Hermione for picking Crookshanks, all animals DESERVE LOVE 19. “They still haven’t caught him, then?” he asked. “No,” said Mr. Weasley, looking extremely grave. “They’ve pulled us all off our regular jobs at the Ministry to try and find him, but no luck so far.” – no but seriously, how difficult it is to catch a human person. You have MAGIC FFS. USE IT. CHRIST.

20. “Black’s not going to be caught by a thirteen-year-old wizard.” – Mr. Weasley has obviously never met one Harry James Potter, one Hermione Jean Granger and one Ronald Billius Weasley 21. “Harry’s got a right to know. I’ve tried to tell Fudge, but he insists on treating Harry like a child. He’s thirteen years old and —” – no offence to Mr. Weasley, but holy gods, 13 years old is a literal baby. This is like any typical YA girl (like, the old days of YA), who is like “I’M 16 I’M AN ADULT I GET TO DO WHAT I WANT” and I’m like “sit yo ass down and listen to your parents, you insolent CHILD” 22. So chance-y that Harry just HAPPENED to hear all that information on Sirius and his “intentions” and given us so much exposition lolololol 23. I love Rowling’s story-telling, but sometimes she relies a lot (and by a lot I mean too much) on deus-ex-machina (idk if this is the correct term for this writing device; if it’s not i’m human and I make mistakes feel free to correct me) 24. “No, all in all, the thing that bothered Harry most was the fact that his chances of visiting Hogsmeade now looked like zero” – so, there’s a supposedly mass murderer after you, but your only worry is that you can’t go on field trip with your friends. YOLOOOOOOO 25. I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again: the world doesn’t fucking deserve Harry Potter BLESS HIS SOUL 26. “I’m not trying to be a hero, but seriously, Sirius Black can’t be worse than Voldemort, right?” – I mean, the boy has a POINT

27. “Why would I go looking for someone I know wants to kill me?” said Harry blankly – Harry, love, we all know you go looking for dangerous and illegal shit to do, you can stop pretending 28. “This had only one occupant, a man sitting fast asleep next to the window.” – squealy as fuck voice HIIIIIII REMUS HIIIIIIIIIIII HIIIIIIIIII 29. “I don’t go looking for trouble,” said Harry, nettled. “Trouble usually finds me.”

30. “I’m not going to take any crap from Malfoy this year,” he said angrily. “I mean it. If he makes one more crack about my family, I’m going to get hold of his head and —” – like, I’m front and center for that GO OFF RONALD 31. “The train rattled, the rain hammered, the wind roared, but still, Professor Lupin slept – okay but think about this” – no but really, when was the last time Lupin actually slept soundly and safe? I know Voldemort is technically still dead, but werevolves still face prejudice in the wizard community, so this legit just occurred to me, that this nap on the train is maybe the first time in a long time when he’s able to just rest

32. “We can’t be there yet,” said Hermione, checking her watch. “So why’re we stopping?” – little ol’ me – WTF WHAT IS GOING ON 33. “There was a hand protruding from the cloak and it was glistening, grayish, slimy-looking, and scabbed, like something dead that had decayed in water. . .” – NICE, something new to haunt my nightmares thaNKS JK 34. “And then, from far away, he heard screaming, terrible, terrified, pleading screams.” – I remembered that there was a theory that this was actually Voldemort’s worst memory and because Harry was a Horcrux, he experienced it and I have to just give a shout out to this fandom, because jesus christ guys, you fucking DELIVER 35. “What happened? Where’s that — that thing? Who screamed?” “No one screamed,” said Ron, more nervously still – when you’re the only one in your group to hear that one tiny detail for your assignment in school and no one believes you 36. “I haven’t poisoned that chocolate, you know. . . .” Harry took a bite and to his great surprise felt warmth spread suddenly to the tips of his fingers and toes.” – this is actual proof that chocolate is the best food in this entire world thank you good bye

37. “There’s no need to look so worried — I just want a word in my office”- when you’ve fucked up so many times, you automatically assume you did something in your sleep and will quite possibly be expelled/murdered 38. “Oh,” said Hermione softly, “we’ve missed the Sorting!” – I’m a firm believer that Rowling didn’t want to write a new Sorting Song every book, so they keep conveniently missing the Sorting Ceremony 39. “You couldn’t help trusting Albus Dumbledore” – yes well, we all mistakes in life 40. “It is not in the nature of a dementor to understand pleading or excuses” – like, why not plainly tell them “my dudes don’t fuck with these creatures they will LITERALLY SUCK OUT YOUR SOUL” 41. “It was beyond anger: It was loathing. Harry knew that expression only too well; it was the look Snape wore every time he set eyes on Harry.” – yes yes, but “always” and all that shit. Y’all fuck off with that crap. 42. Again, friendly reminder that Snape would 100% have looked differently at Harry if he were a girl kthxbyeeeeeee

43. “Hagrid, who was ruby-red in the face and staring down at his enormous hands, his wide grin hidden in the tangle of his black beard”; “Hagrid was wiping his eyes on the tablecloth” – BLESS HIS HEART I CRY. Like, you have this gentle giant, who has been disregarded his whole life and who finally gets a chance to prove himself, thanks to a threesome of stubborn, capable kids. Also, honestly, if Dumbledore did one thing right, it was being kind to Hagrid. Sure, it still plays into him collecting people (because let’s face it, he did just that), but whatever HAGRID IS HAPPY NOTHING ELSE MATTERS, NOT EVEN DUMBLEWHORE 44. “They reached their familiar, circular dormitory with its five four-poster beds, and Harry, looking around, felt he was home at last” – I know Rowling did some shady shit lately and personally, I’m not considering anything after the books canon (not even Pottermore, ngl), but these books will always mean something to me and to a whole generation. And if you ask me, this should be the true meaning of “always”. Hogwarts is home. ALWAYS. 45. Thank you for attending my TED talk.

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#harry potter #hp #potterworld #booklr #J.K. Rowling #things i have learned #mine

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cynicalcreationist-blog · 6 years ago

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Vanishing Grace

PossessedbyLucifer - AO3

Chapter 2: Being Human

Summary:

Lucifer is having trouble adjusting to his humanity; Dean still hesitates to trust Lucifer; Lucifer reveals something that is rather unsettling about the situation.

“Good to see you too, Sammy. Anyways, it’s not important. Right now, it’s important that we get my grace back, yeah?”

“What do you mean by ‘endless’? I thought an angel’s grace was limited once it was extracted…”

“Ding, ding, ding! That’s exactly right. But… I’m not, exactly, an ordinary angel, am I?”

®®®

“Sam, he’s human. It’s painfully obvious,” Dean had, to his own distaste, decided to believe the Devil, for now.

“Well, that will keep him from being much of a threat, right? I don’t see how that’s bad,” Sam pondered the idea of Lucifer being human. It was actually tragically ironic in the most hilarious way.

“It’s bad, because someone… something is out there with an endless energy source!” Lucifer had crawled out of the dungeon (not literally) and found himself following Dean to find Sam. Even without his grace, he seemed to be good at just appearing out of nowhere, because the brothers jumped just slightly at his voice and turned to look at him.

“You let him out?” Sam asked, confused. That didn’t seem like Dean at all.

“No, I didn’t- how-“ Dean was at a loss for words, rather unable to figure out how Lucifer got himself out.

Lucifer just shrugged, leaning on the doorway for support, seeing as he still needed it. “Good to see you too, Sammy. Anyways, it’s not important. Right now, it’s important that we get my grace back, yeah?”

The brothers were quiet until Sam spoke up. “What do you mean by ‘endless’? I thought an angel’s grace was limited once it was extracted…”

Lucifer chuckled slightly, making a ringing noise as if Sam had answered correctly on a game show. “Ding, ding, ding! That’s exactly right. But… I’m not, exactly, an ordinary angel, am I?”

Sam raised an eyebrow, deciding to push onwards with his curiosity. “Archangel grace holds different properties?”

“Correct again, Sammy!” Lucifer glanced over at Dean with a certain hatred, but it came out as more of a distaste. “You’re behind two points, pretty boy.”

That earned a roll of Dean’s eyes, to which Lucifer responded with, “yeah, roll your eyes at me. You might find something back there besides your over-inflated ego.”

Sam stifled a laugh, which Dean glared at him. Sam tried to justify himself; “what? Devil or not, that’s hilarious.”

Dean sighed in exasperation then tried to change the subject. “So, why is an archangel’s grace endless?”

Lucifer didn’t answer Dean. Probably out of spite. He looked expectantly towards Sam.

But Sam was only confused, and he looked at Dean for an answer.

Dean only grumbled, thoroughly annoyed. “I swear, you’re like a thirteen-billion-year-old child!” He spoke up after quietly voicing his thoughts, looking at Sam. “He wants to talk to you, not me.”

It was Sam’s turn to roll his eyes. He shouldn’t have expected any less from Lucifer. His brother and the archangel never got along.

Well, Dean did shoot him with the Colt. And throw his Apocalypse off track. And throw his ass in the cage. His hatred was justified.

Then again, it worked the other way around, too. The Winchesters’ lives had been complete hell from the beginning all thanks to little Luce.

Sam opened his mouth to speak, but Lucifer spoke first, seeming concerned with himself. “Sam, you’re human. Why does my stomach hurt so badly?”

It hit the Winchesters like a train: the fact that Lucifer was human. And he now had to deal with everything that came with being human. Oh, this was going to be a long week…

“That’s hunger, Lucifer. It means you need to eat,” Sam explained, gesturing to the kitchen. “There’s food in the fridge if you want to figure out what you want.”

For a moment, Lucifer didn’t really move, since the reality of the situation was hitting him hard. Wow, he already hated being human. It sucked. And he was a bit afraid to eat. He never had, before. What did food taste like, anyway? Was it good? And the process of digestion; was it painful? These thoughts made the former archangel far too uneasy to actually do anything about his body’s starving needs. “I think I’ll pass…”

Dean didn’t really care whether or not Lucifer took care of himself, but Sam seemed to. He walked over to Lucifer, and, for once, Lucifer actually felt a little intimidated by Sam’s height. It was probably natural human instinct. But he pushed that down, considering he believed Sam was his only ‘friend’ here.

“Come on, I’ll help you, okay? I guess it could be kind of weird trying to do something you’ve never done before without a little bit of help…” Sam was sympathetic, especially compared to Dean, who only glared onwards at the Devil’s form retreating into the kitchen, followed by his younger brother. Stupid Satan.

An hour later, Lucifer discovered that he would refuse to live on Sam’s diet, which he so artfully named the “tasteless, eat-less diet”, or he occasionally switched it up with “the unbe-leaf-able diet”, which got a facepalm from Sam and made Lucifer happy. Instead, he stole Dean’s leftovers from the last burger stop, finding it to be the only edible thing that didn’t take long to prepare (Dean did not know his hamburger was stolen, and there would surely be consequences).

Lucifer seemed to be content, no longer complaining of the pain called hunger. It annoyed him more than anything, only further reminding him of his newfound mortality.

And, seeing the Devil was satisfied, Sam decided to push onwards on the whole ‘endless grace’ thing. It kind of seemed important.

But Sam didn’t get to ask. Even without his grace, Lucifer could tell what was on Sam’s mind. “Dad made us so that we would get stronger with time. He wanted us to have… something of a childhood… and then, when we matured, we would be strong enough to fight Amara. So, our grace was something he tampered with before our creation. For every bit of power we use, we only get stronger, whereas normal angels have a constant, non-depleting supply of power, as long as their grace remains intact. The more us archangels fight and heal and use our wings, the stronger those components become. There really is no way to measure the amount of grace one has, but, let’s say, for explanation’s sake, for every unit of power we use, we regain a unit, plus part of another one. And for every century our grace exists, it gains five units of power. Does that make sense? It could probably be represented with some complicated Calculus…” Lucifer really was trying to explain it in a way that Sam could understand, but it was hard to explain something so abstract. It didn’t stop him from trying, though.

Sam seemed to understand, though, nodding slightly as he thought about it. “And, let me guess, the grace doesn’t need a host to continue multiplying?”

“Exactly. Anyone could create an infinite power source with it that is just going to get more and more dangerous.”

Finally, it seemed, Sam realized why Lucifer was so insistent on coming to them, despite the obvious danger. They actually had a common enemy, now. One that could wipe out the human race and more.

But a question arose in Sam’s mind, which he voiced, “but what would happen if a normal angel took the grace? Or even a human?”

Lucifer shook his head just slightly, easily able to answer such a question, as if he’d thought of the very same thing beforehand. “A human wouldn’t be able to take any of that grace without imploding. It’s too great a power for anything that… fragile.” He cast Sam an almost longing look at that. Perhaps he still somewhat longed to be in Sam’s body. After all, it was his true vessel. His most comfortable home. Even if Nick sufficed, surely he still longed for Sam…

But he pushed those thoughts aside, continuing with his answer. “And an angel could only take small quantities of it at a time without suffering the same fate. I wouldn’t know of anything else that could handle that much power without collapsing in on itself.”

“What about a demon? One like Abaddon or Crow-“

“No way in hell could scum like that handle any of my power.” Lucifer didn’t even let Sam say his name. It seemed he was still a bit touchy on that whole subject. It wasn’t all that surprising, though. His opinion on demons hadn’t changed in the slightest. Again, not surprising.

While Sam was thinking about who could possibly be able to contain that kind of power, Lucifer seemed to go rather quiet. That caught Sam’s attention. “What is it, Lucifer?”

“Nothing, Sam. I’m just unsure of what this feeling is.” That was a half-truth, but Sam didn’t push, for now.

“What kind of feeling is it?”

“It’s in my throat… I don’t know…”

“That might be thirst. Here, let’s get you some water…”

®®®

“Dean, something’s out there with a lot of power. We can’t just back down from this one!” Sam and Dean were arguing in the next room over while Lucifer seemed to be exploring different tastes in liquid. Water, beer, vitamin water…

“Sam, I’ve had enough of this! I’ve saved the world enough times in the past several years. Maybe someone else can take a hit for us this time, yeah? Besides, who’s saying he’s even telling the truth?! Maybe he’s just trying to use us to get his misplaced grace back!”

“He’s not lying,” Sam said, rather sure of himself. Why? Because he trusted Lucifer. He trusted him far more than Dean ever would. It was something he couldn’t really explain, but he felt as if Lucifer couldn’t lie to him. And he wasn’t too far off.

Sam was the only person that Lucifer would feel guilty lying to. And Lucifer couldn’t feel guilty. It would mean he was wrong. It would mean he was the bad guy. And he told himself over and over again that he wasn’t. He couldn’t contradict that. Not after everything.

“So you trust the Devil?” Dean scoffed. Obviously, he was skeptical. There was really no reason Dean found he could fully believe Lucifer’s story. After all, it’s not like people were dying on a mass scale. In fact, the world seemed relatively peaceful. They hadn’t had a case in over a week.

Actually, that was concerning. They never didn’t have work. That was kind of odd…

“Yes, Dean, as a matter of fact, I do. And you should, too.” Sam was irritated that Dean couldn’t see past his own hatred for the archangel. It was to be expected, but it was still infuriating.

“Why?”

“Because… because I just do, okay?!” Sam snapped at Dean, which only ticked Dean off.

“Whatever. You take care of him, then.” Dean huffed as he grabbed his jacket, heading up the stairs to the door.

“Hey, where are you going?!” Sam didn’t really want to be left alone with Lucifer, even if he was only human.

“I’m goin’ for a drive. I’ll be back in an hour.”

®®®

“I don’t understand. If she hates this ‘Stacy’ girl so much, why doesn’t she just kill her? It would surely get rid of her problems.”

“Because killing is illegal, Lucifer.”

“You two do it all of the time, Sam. Are you simply exempt from the law?”

Sam sighed, shaking his head, deciding to leave the room, going out to the kitchen to get a beer.

He heard the bunker door close, and he assumed Dean was home. It had been way more than an hour, and Sam had been tense from the moment he left.

Dean came into the kitchen with a few groceries and the day’s paper, setting everything down on the counter, then glancing around. “Where’s Lucifer?”

Sam only sighed, walking over to the bedrooms wordlessly.

Dean followed cautiously, unsure of what Sam was doing.

Sam opened the door to his bedroom, and Lucifer was sitting on his bed, enveloped in a TV show.

“What the hell? What is he even watching?”

“I don’t know. He just came in here and made himself comfortable. He started yelling at the TV at some point, and I found him just like this.”

“Is this a high school drama?”

Sam shrugged.

“Because nothing is more fascinating than watching the real-life, human drama unfold in front of me because you two just don’t cut it.” Lucifer’s tone was pure sarcasm. “You guys realize I can hear you, right?”

Dean cleared his throat awkwardly. He still felt uncomfortable with Lucifer so close to Sam. Close to him, even. Sure, Lucifer was powerless, but he was still the same Devil.

Sam sighed, going into the room and picking up the TV remote, turning it off, which brought a negative response from Lucifer.

“Hey, I was watching that-“

“Do you want your wings back or not?”

Lucifer went silent at the mention of his wings. He obviously wanted his wings back. More than anything.

Sam had a feeling Lucifer wasn’t going to answer him, so he assumed his silence was a ‘yes’. “Then we need to know everything you can remember from… whatever happened.”

Lucifer nodded slowly, sighing. But he remained silent.

“Lucifer?” Sam was confused. Maybe Lucifer had gotten lost in thought? Or maybe he was too shy to answer. After all, he’d been beaten pretty badly. But whatever it was left him alive… that was something.

“Sam, I’m sorry, I’m trying, but…. Well, there’s nothing there… I remember… I was in… in, uh… Idaho, I think, and then it just goes black… and then I’m practically crawling through your front door… Wait, no, I remember I was in a lot of pain… and chains…” Lucifer genuinely looked upset and panicked. Lucifer was so used to remembering everything. Every little detail from the past fourteen billion years of his life. Drawing blank like this? He didn’t know how to react.

Sam sighed and shook his head, looking at Dean. “Now what? Go to Idaho?”

Dean thought for a moment, then said, “No, I think we should try to figure something else out. That could have been weeks ago. And it would take a lot of time that we don’t have to get to Idaho.”

Lucifer got up from the bed, which instinctively made Dean reach for his gun, and, Lucifer, being smart and cautious with his newfound mortality, stopped moving. “Woah, hold it there, cowboy. I’m not going to snap anyone’s neck.”

Lucifer looked mildly annoyed – not really scared or anything – while Dean took his hand off the gun, letting Lucifer pass by him.

The former archangel ended up in the kitchen, going for a snack of some kind, but his eyes caught the paper, instead. Interested, he unrolled it, picking it up and reading it, flipping through the pages. Something caught his eyes. “Sam!”

It was amazing how fast Sam appeared in the kitchen. It was almost like he ran. Maybe he thought Lucifer had hurt himself, but he was a little confused when he saw Lucifer perfectly fine, just standing there, holding the paper.

“Yes, Lucifer?” He sighed out the question. Oh, maybe he was disappointed Lucifer hadn’t been hurt.

Lucifer turned the paper towards him, pointing at a headline. “This sounds like your guys’ kind of thing, yeah? A vampire, maybe?”

Sam quickly read over the headline. It didn’t give a lot of information, but yeah… it looked like a vampire. He nodded.

“Perfect. A vampire can’t be too difficult, right? Take it easy for my first case.”

“Your what?” Dean had arrived only just after Sam, and he just now decided to speak up.

“My first case. The more I work, the closer I’ll get to finding my wings, yeah? Sitting around won’t find them.

"Lucifer, you can't come with. It's going to be dangerous, and I can’t rely on you to watch my back," Dean declared, watching the former archangel cross his arms over his chest in irritation.

"And why not?"

Dean rolled his eyes, giving him an answer: "because you're not up to par right now. You can't even hold your own! And you’re… you!"

Lucifer scoffed, looking mildly offended. "Yes, I can! And that’s discrimination!" And, with that, Dean quickly tripped him, and Lucifer hit the floor with an ungraceful thud, followed by a grunt.

"You can't even fight me," Dean observed, feeling mildly proud that he knocked the Devil on his ass.

Lucifer brushed himself off as he rose to his feet, a light pink dusting his cheeks from embarrassment. "W-well, I'm not used to these... These humanly slow reflexes! It's not my fault! I'll figure it out," he huffed, before pointing his thumb towards his back, continuing; " besides, these are my wings. One step closer. Like Hell I'm gonna let you go find them without me. I'd rather die."

Dean shot Sam a glance, who had been quiet up until this point, as he grumbled, “Yeah, well that can be arranged...”

"No, Dean, we can't kill him."

Dean looked annoyed with that, but he decided not to push on.

It was silent for a few moments, and Sam decided he needed to fill Dean in on everything Lucifer had told him in the kitchen, earlier. “Dean, I need to talk to you.”

“Yeah, Sam, convince him I can come with-“

“Not… not about that.” Sam sighed, pulling Dean away from Lucifer, into the main area of the bunker. “So, get this…”

To be continued.

#spn #supernatural #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #my writing #vanishing #grace #lucifer #is #a #cuck

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iloveyoupittsburghpirates-blog · 7 years ago

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You Finally Didn’t Have A Losing Week, Pittsburgh Pirates

My Dearest Pittsburgh Pirates,

It wasn’t a winning week, though, going 3-3. You bottomed out in the first two games of the week against the Diamondbacks. In one game, you blew a five-run lead thanks to a pathetic bullpen and one of baseball’s unwritten and stupid rules. The next game you scored eight runs but still lost mostly due to a six run first inning thanks to three errors. It was about as ugly as two baseball games get. After that disgusting display, you managed to turn things around and win the next three games. It was your first back to back wins and your first series win in a month. A month!! You dropped the final game of the Reds’ series, but you at least look slightly more formidable than you did a week ago. Your outlook still isn’t the brightest until all phases of the team start playing together. The offense, defense, starting pitching, and the bullpen have not been on the same page since your fast start. If you score eight runs, then you give up thirteen. If you only give up three runs, then you score one. Your bullpen remains terrible and your defense is shaky at best. Not exactly the formula for success. This week poses another difficult test and mediocrity could spell disaster. Here’s hoping this week is beginning of something better because more of the same could sink you permanently.

Monday was the toughest loss of the season. You were up 5-0 in the 7th inning on the road in Arizona and Joe Musgrove was cruising along. JHay had got hit in the back with a pitch the inning before and the next batter, Austin Meadows, got a pitch up and in. Musgrove and maybe the coaches decided that retaliation was necessary. Musgrove hit Chris Owings and then a wild pitch moved him to second. A single made it 5-1 and then an error put runners on first and second. Edgar Santana, part of the worst bullpen I can remember, came in for Musgrove. He proceeded to give up an RBI single to make it 5-2 and now the tying run was coming to plate in the person of perennial MVP candidate, Paul Goldschmidt. I assumed he would hit a homer to tie the game, but Santana actually struck him out. Instead the next batter, Jake Lamb, homered to tie it. From there another full bullpen implosion was on with Kyle Crick allowing four of the ugliest runs imaginable in the 9th. People will praise Musgrove for paying them back and focus on the Freese error and the bullpen being beyond dreadful and they wouldn’t be wrong. But I can’t stand this retaliation element in baseball especially when the D-Backs’ pitcher obviously wasn’t throwing at them on purpose. The game completely changed after Musgrove hit Owings. If he doesn’t do that, maybe Musgrove stays in the game longer and you don’t have to rely on your awful bullpen. You’re focused more on dignity then winning and in the process it cost you a game. I hope everyone in the clubhouse is really happy right now with that decision because at least their pride isn’t hurt. I grew up playing baseball and I have never understood for one second throwing at hitters as payback. You want to get revenge? Beat the damn team! Nothing hurts more than that. I have zero tolerance for this nonsense and I just hope it was worth it for everyone involved. Thanks for total garbage.

A report leaked this week that your players who are free agents after this year or next year could be available for trades at the deadline. Francisco Cervelli, Ivan Nova, Corey Dickerson, JHay, David Freese, and Jordy Mercer were the main names mentioned. The situation isn’t too dire yet because you are still only 3 ½ games out of a Wildcard spot, but it’s certainly worth listening to offers. As much as I love him, Cervelli is a reasonable candidate. He’s a free agent after next season and is currently having one of his best seasons (.880 OPS) though he’s been slumping over the last month only batting .185. For a 32 year old catcher who has a propensity for getting injured, you could potentially get good value for him now. It also helps that Elias Diaz has hit the ball very well in limited at bats. In 92 at bats, he’s batting .304, with a .850 OPS, and five homers. He’s got a canon for an arm which he needs to get under better control, but he seems like a solid everyday option. Nova had been pitching horrible before heading to the DL and his last two starts (1.54 ERA, 1.20 WHIP) since returning have been terrific. Nick Kingham is still in Triple-A coming off an absolutely dominant performance the other night (8 IP 2 H 0 R 0 BB 6 K), so you could promote him if Nova was traded. My confidence in Trevor Williams has certainly gone downhill, but pitching is such a premium that if Nova keeps pitching well you could get good value for him. I don’t think the return for Mercer or Freese will be worth much, but if you fall off I’m fine getting whatever you can for them. I’m less inclined to trade JHay or Dickerson. Polanco had a big day today but it’s hard to trust him to perform or stay healthy. Health is also a major concern with Austin Meadows and your depth in the minors doesn’t exist. As of now, you have no quality replacement for JHay. Kevin Kramer has hit well this year in Triple-A (.850 OPS, 10 HR’s), but I’m not sure he’s truly ready yet. JHay also provides intangible factors that don’t show up on the stat sheet. If you don’t get blown away by an offer, keep him. None of this is to say I’m giving up on the season, but you don’t look like a World Series contender right now. If that doesn’t change, you would be smart to get value back for these players.

I know everyone has been infatuated with Austin Meadows since his promotion. He started out hot as a firecracker and had continued at a solid pace. The fact that Gregory Polanco has been horrible this season only added to the admiration for Meadows, but I think some fans need to keep things in perspective. Every time Meadows isn’t in the starting lineup, it sets off fury of tweets with people almost insinuating you’re trying to lose. I like Meadows a lot. It’s important to ease him in due to his proclivity for injuries and that he’s a young player. The reality is he’s finally cooled off with only six hits in his last twenty-eight at bats (.214) with seven strikeouts, no homers, and three RBI’s. He also never walks with only four base on balls in 91 at bats this season. Polanco had a much better performance today going 3 for 3 with a walk, a homer, and 2 RBI’s. Polanco needs to show me a lot more before I think he should be playing more often than two to three times a week. I’m higher on Meadows than I’ve been since you drafted him. I just think everyone shouldn’t act like it’s the end of the world every time he gets a day off. You don’t want to burn him out and he’s obviously already started coming back to Earth. I still want to see him in the lineup four to five times per week and that’s enough.

This upcoming week is going to be another difficult one. You are at home this week but you play all seven days against two, first place teams. Monday through Wednesday, the Milwaukee Brewers come to town. They currently have the best record in the NL. They lead you by seven games in the division and are the perfectly exemplify my disappointment with you. The Brewers aren’t a big market team but they went out and acquired Christian Yelich through a trade and signed Lorenzo Cain. Both of them have OPS’ over .800 (Yelich .848, Cain .837). Add that to their excellent bullpen and a quality rotation (that might be playing a little over their heads right now) and you have a contender. They pushed their chips in when they saw their potential. You can’t say you did the same in 2013 through 2015. Starting Thursday, the Arizona Diamondbacks, leaders of the NL West by 1 ½ games, come to town for a four-game series. You lost two out of three to them in Arizona earlier this week but they didn’t appear to be leaps and bounds better than you. If your bullpen doesn’t implode and your defense wasn’t atrocious, you had a chance to win those two games. You finally won a series against a bad team, which is good, but it’s obvious that your problems have not been fixed. The way you succeed is to beat up on bad teams and split with good teams. Unfortunately, you got your butt kicked by good teams the past few weeks. Now would be a good time to change that. More poor performances against good teams this week could be the final nail in the coffin. Please prove me wrong! Please find some way to miraculously improve all of your flaws and beat up on some good teams! Please!! I’m begging you!

On The Brink,

Brad

P.S. stands for Please Stop and that’s in reference to your bullpen. They are a train-wreck right now. Even today, you trailed 6-1 and fought back to make it 6-5 in the 8th. Edgar Santana came on to pitch the top of the 9th , after blowing the game Monday, and gave up a two-run homer to make it 8-5. It hurt even more when you scored a run in the bottom of the 9th that would have tied the game. Michael Feliz pitched one inning yesterday and gave up a homer. He looked better today but is far from reliable. Tyler Glasnow pitched the 7th inning the other night with a lead and looked good doing it. He should be one of your late inning options along with Kyle Crick and obviously Vasquez. Steven Brault should be used in late innings too if you are facing a good lefty. I hope you are looking outside options. If you hope to be successful, you can’t keep going to these same guys and expecting different results. There’s no real options in the minors so, unless these guys improve dramatically overnight, a trade might be your only hope of improvement.

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hoyoungy · 7 years ago

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Elixir - Mingyu (I)

genre: fluff, comedy, college au, modern witch au, friends-to-lovers summary: you’re a student by day and a witch by night who fulfills potion orders for the rich and wealthy in order to pay your rent. mingyu is your most loyal, free-loading customer, your delivery boy, and your closest friend. the golden rule in witchcraft is to never mix love into your magic, but you broke that rule a long time ago word count: 1196 a/n: i was inspired by a cafe today and i really want to get into different aus, so i thought a modern witch one was a good start! i hope you enjoy this new miniseries! disclaimer, i know nothing about witchcraft, i had to do some research, sorry if it’s inaccurate!

POTION 017

↳ this potion allows the consumer to absorb, retain, and recite any information they read. lasts for twenty-four hours. hints of mint with clove essence. filed under “potions most likely consumed by mingyu”

The boiling vials and beakers in front of you on your floor emitted enough heat to circulate and warm your entire apartment complex. With all of the potions cooking at once, your unit smelled like a craft store on Christmas. You had at least twelve vials boiling at once, all different shapes with different colored liquids so you wouldn’t lose track your potions.

You were so backed up with potion orders that you had to time everything correctly. It was always during midterms season when the parents of some stuck up frat boys reached out to you for potions that would help their precious boy pass the class. You were ready to just make a huge batch for all of them, but no, they all had to be so specific with their orders to cater to each child.

From the rotation of the stirring to the temperature of the heat, you kept a close eye on all twelve of them. It was times like these where you wished your cat was a familiar, but you refused to succumb to that stereotype and make your precious baby a slave to you. But as of late, it was beginning to sound like the good idea.

A poof of black, foul-smelling smoke emitted from the smallest vial.

“Shit!” you cursed, quickly tossing the liquid into one of your many plant pots. Your poor ivy shrivled instantly, wilting and drained of all its color. Luckily, the recipe was easy enough to restart.

“Where’s the damn witch hazel,” you muttered to yourself. This potion in particular was ordered this morning for a very demanding, but very rich client that had requested an instant-blemish zapper for her spoiled, currently-going-through-puberty thirteen year-old before the sun set. If it was any other potion, you’d normally say no, but since it was quite simple, you told her that she’d be the exception. Besides, you up-charged her for same-day service.

That money was going to buy your groceries for two months.

You casually flicked your finger to flip through the poor excuse you called the potions book to find the blemish-zapping recipe. Your potions book wasn’t even a book! It was a one of those five subject spiral books where you jotted down all of the recipes you took from your grandma’s library, who refused to lend you the actual books you needed, that selfish witch. You sighed, concentrating on carefully sprinkling the crushed witch hazel and rose petals into the vial of clear alcohol with the perfect 1:8 proportion. If you were even one tenth of a gram off, your potion would be completely ruined. Just a few more dashes of petals, and -

“_____! Quick, it’s an emergency!” The scream from your most loyal customer breaking into your home caused you to drop the vial on the floor and shatter, enveloping you and your cat in a cloud of black, shit-smelling soot. “Oops…”

“Mingyu, what the fuck,” you sighed. You were too tired to be mad.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were working!”

“Ok, well, can you help and talk at the same time? These orders are due in like, forty minutes. Hand me the bundle of flowers on the counter.”

“Can’t you, like, levitate it to you?”

“It’s not as fun as making you do it.”

Without arguing, Mingyu grabbed the new bundle of flowers and joined you on the floor, looking at the set up in front of him.

“Is this some fancy séance, or something?”

You scoffed at his ignorance. “That’s sorcer-ist. And no, I just have a lot of orders to fulfill tonight.”

“Tsk tsk, always taking on too many orders.”

“And I bet you’re about to add on to it.”

“Absolutely, but only because I know you can handle it ~”

“So, what is it?” you asked, not taking your eyes off of your notebook.

“So I have an exam tomorrow, and…” he trailed off. You turned to look at him with a raised brow, wondering why he didn’t finish his sentence, and you were met face to face with Mingyu’s signature pout and puppy eyes.

“No.”

“What!? Why!?”

“I’m not helping you cheat.”

“Come on, you do it all the time!”

“Yeah, but my future doesn’t depend on a chemistry degree. I’m just trying to graduate, not become a pharmacist,” you noted. In your field, most chemistry majors move on to higher education to pursue pharmacology or of the like. Your future was with witchcraft, and luckily, you could do so much with it, business-wise. You could open up a plant shop, coffee shop, gem shop, or all three to create the ultimate aesthetic, all the while still catering to your snobby, rich consumers. College just helped you with getting ingredients and materials - all of your beakers and alcohol solutions were from the chemistry department.

“But if I fail, I have to retake the class all over again next semester!”

“Then why don’t you pay attention in class!?”

“You know the cute girl in my class I always talk about?”

“Which girl and which class?” you snickered, unable to keep track of his records.

“The one with short hair in Philosophy.”

“Oh, her,” you frowned. He always gushed about how her eyes smiled with her pink lips and how it never failed to leave him speechless. Out of all the girls Mingyu has ‘fallen’ for, she was one of the more serious ones. “She’s the reason you don’t pay attention in class?”

“Yeah, she’s just so distracting! I can’t pay attention when she’s sitting right next to me, you know? And then I leave the lecture without any study materials, so I have nothing to study with. So please, _____,” Mingyu started. He took your free hand in his two larger ones and held on to them tightly. “Please help this poor, dumb, incredibly handsome boy pass Philosophy so he can impress the cute girl in his class?”

You wanted to say no - you really wanted to say no, but how could you refuse such a cute face like his? “Ugh, fine. But you need to deliver all of these orders when they’re done,” you caved in. You yanked your hand away to cover the growing blush on your cheeks.

“Yes! Thank you! Anything for my _____ ~”

“Yeah, yeah. Hand me the mortar and pestle, some peppermint, clove oil, and the brown jar over there.”

“What’s in this?” he asks, taking a whiff of the liquid.

“What did I say about smelling random things around the house!?” you scolded.

“That if my head implodes, it’s my fault.”

“Exactly. Jesus, didn’t they teach you not that in General Chemistry?”

“I failed Gen Chem, remember?”

“Of course you did…”

“This isn’t like, dragon piss, is it…?”

“It’s whiskey that’s been aged for three centuries. The finest whiskey to ever exist.”

“Whiskey for the potion?”

“No, for me,” you stated, taking a long swig of the gold liquid.

“You’re such a Slytherin…” he said, scrunching his nose as he smelled the alcohol.

“Again, sorcer-ist. Not all witches like Harry Potter,” you said, shoving the bottle to his chest. “And I’m obviously a Ravenclaw.”

#svtwriters #mingyu #kim mingyu #seventeen #svt #seventeen mingyu #svt mingyu #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #svt scenarios #kpop #k-pop #college au #modern witch au

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god-wishes-he-was-me · 4 years ago

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The Humble Adventure of Bitch & Boomer

{hi so during quarantine I had to write weekly journals for English class, and my relationship with my best friend started changing, causing me enough stress to ACTUALLY HAND THIS IN. So enjoy, I feel weird having three chapters typed up doing nothing so...have mercy I word vomited:/

Ps. All our cuss words are bleeped coz it was for school

Chapter One

On April 29th, 2020, Thalia's best friend of eleven years casually mentioned that he wanted to marry her.

Zach and Thalia had been buds since kindergarten. They'd never made any romantic confessions, except for the time Thalia wrote Zach a love note and gave it to him behind a dumpster in fourth grade. She's never been able to live that one down. They've both had feelings for eachother, but never at the same time, leaving them stuck in a vicious cycle of unrequited feelings.

The pair did have two lost years where Thalia couldn't talk to Zach without getting upset. She had left all of her toxic friends behind her and started all over in an effort to salvage her mental health. Zach was not a toxic friend however, he was just friends with the people that were unknowingly being damaging. Thalia had managed to have a pretty okay time with her new friends that were kinder, but after two years of not speaking Thalia didn't really have a say in whether or not they were friends. The two live really close to each other, and on Thalia's walk to school everyday she passed his house. Thirteen year old Zach waited outside every morning just to walk one block with her. That turned into walking home, hanging out during school and eventually helping each other through some pretty tough stuff.

Early in they're first year of highschool, Thalia's dad moved down the street from Zach's house. She went from staying every other weekend at her dad's to every other week, seeing Zach by chance and by choice.

Who would've thought they would have a Boy Next Door™ story?

Highschool brings the two closer than ever, walking to and from school with a longer commute, both almost failing math (well, he failed, Thalia barely made 60%) and became a dynamic duo in their school's cafeteria. Don't get me started on cafeteria, they go to school an hour early to cook and sell baked goods every morning, talking about anything and everything. Not to mention serving lunch twice a week.

Everything was right as rain for a while, keeping up the off and on pining and beating eachother up in the halls. Continuously rolling their eyes at their parents swearing they'll end up together while suppressing their real emotions. Then this little thing called Covid-19 came into the world.

Nothing like a global pandemic to force you into facing your feelings am I right?

One day, Thalia got a call from Zach, not out of the ordinary for them seeing as they do nothing but banter. In this call Zach complains about his mom (also not out of the ordinary) and segways into the dream he had the night before(Thalia regularly dreams about Zach. Romantic or not, he'd been a pretty common occurrence in her subconscious). Zach recounts his dream, that just happened to be about their wedding. This led to them planning their wedding. They talk about the music, and rings (tattoos instead, so they wouldn't wreck rings. Thalia gets a small band to ward off the creeps.), and even plan some food. The back of Thalia's mind consisted of what could only be described as "!!!!!!!!!!". Normally the phrase used was: "If we get married" (in a joking way) but as of recently it had changed to "when we get married". As if the two had accepted the eventuality of being together.

This understandably sent Thalia into a crisis. Never before had she said the words " I'm fine, everything is fine" more in her life.

During quarantine, Zach was the only person Thalia was allowed to see other than her immediate family. To clarify, she wasn't working, he wasn't working, they still kept they're circles as small as possible. All while following social distancing with others and wearing masks. This was a necessary interaction for Thalia and Zach's mental stability. One week alone in her house had Thalia going stir crazy, and had Zach getting in arguments with his parents. To sooth each other's impending breakdowns, they hung out with permission. Walking a block and a half to keep themselves sane. Thalia and Zach don't really function after being seperated for long periods of time.

Now where was I? Oh yeah, Thalia's brain was imploding.

The next day, Thalia asked Zach to go for a walk around Langford lake, figuring there, her best friend would make a move. No such thing happens.

They walk, throw rocks into the lake, and have a good bant. Thalia gives her friend many openings to make his move, but he doesn't take a single one. At one point Zach decides he's going to teach Thalia how to climb a tree (surprisingly easy for her to do, she just never got around to it). The two then spent a solid twenty minutes just looking at each other with expectant looks halfway up a tree.

On their walk home Thalia told Zach about her post secondary plans.

"I think I want to go to UBC for psychology and become a therapist."

Zach looked a bit taken aback, "how are you going to be a therapist on a farm in Ontario?"

"Since when am I going to live on a farm in Ontario?"

Zach proceeded to remind Thalia that his grandfather was leaving him a farm in Ontario, that's why Zach was getting a degree in agriculture. She knew all this of course, she just didn't realize she was coming along.

"We can get some chickens if you want", Zach offered, not acknowledging the weight of his suggestions.

"Sure! Can we work our way up to cows?" Thalia, a drama kid, is good at acting calm while panicking.

The pair planned their life together down to the type of truck and rocking chairs they'd use when making fun of teenagers in their old age.

"There ya go, life planned" Zach finished, patting Thalia on the back. Throughout this conversation Thalia couldn't help but quietly smile. She hadn't realized how much her friend had thought about their future.

Where their hangout usually would end (with Zach dropping Thalia off at her house and walking the rest of the block to his own), Zach asked Thalia to walk with him. She made zero hesitation to agree. Zach ran into his house, returning with donut money, his younger brother, and his dog Bug.

Bug barked at Thalia as usual, but the scruffy little brown and black mut barked slightly less than she had the time before. The group walked to Tim Hortons, chatting and horsing around as per usual. Zach made his way inside and returned with donuts (three for him one for Thalia). She caught him staring at her, smiling with a different light in his eyes. The energy between them was different than usual. There were unspoken things that needed to be said.

Thalia didn't finish her donut. She plopped the rest of her sour cream glaze into her friends mouth without hesitation from either party. They fed each other regularly, Zach putting a water bottle to her lips knowing she was thirsty without even looking. Thalia had a milkshake during a class they shared once, and Zach groaned.

"Ughaghherraaww",he leaned his head back, expelling the noise. Without a thought, Thalia passed her milkshake to Zach knowing that's what he wanted. It took a second for the pair to realize they had communicated abnormally. They were comfortable with one another, never running out of things to talk about.

When Thalia got home, she had a cinematic moment. Closing the door behind her, leaning against it and listening to the rattling of her heart slowly calm. Things were beginning to happen.

#my writing #i'm a simp #friends to lovers

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