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creepypocky · 3 years

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Hello dear! May I have a romantic and Nsfw creepypasta match-up please? Feel free to ignore this if they are closed but if you do choose to do this then thank you so much! I hope you have a great day/night!

Zodiac sign: Leo sun, Aries moon, Leo rising

Personality Type: ENTP

Pronouns: She/her

Sexuality: Straight (For now might be bi but i'm going with straight)

I'm 5'4 and I have a very tiny body frame so i'm extremely petite and pretty small. I'm not very curvy and I literally have the body of a cereal box...lol but its fine because I have nice hips and thighs. I have thick brown hair that goes down to my back and it gets tangled pretty easily but its kinda fluffy. I have brown eyes and tiny freckles all over my face and body. I also have a very strong grunge style, like Flannels, band t-shirts, combat boots, leather jackets etc. But i'd also always enjoy a nice oversized sweatshirt or hoodie with a pair of skinny, ripped jeans and some converses or something along those lines.

For my personality.....this is where things get interesting. At first people find me very intimidating due to my resting bitch face and cold exterior but I promise i'm not like that ALL the time. When you get to know me, i'm a big extrovert, goofy and about everything that comes out of my mouth is sarcasm or some dry humored joke. I'm also that one friend in a group where they literally will do the stupidest shit ever like for an example one time it was super dark outside and my other friend was there, while I was trying to climb a tree and I failed and fell out of the tree, and landed on my back. I got straight up after that somehow it didn't hurt.....like at all? But yeah i'm super reckless and sometimes people have to save me from myself if you get what I mean. I also have a very strong "I don't give a fuck" attitude and I will not hesitate to stick up for myself or my friends....like i'm the type of person where if someone glares at me, i'll glare right back. I can have bad anxiety and I can be very self destructive. This is where my feisty, stubborn, hardheaded side comes in. If I want something then i'll fight for it even if it hurts me and i'll get into a bad cycle of putting myself down and trying to do better even if I did great the first time but I always push myself too far and other people have to stop me because I usually can't see it when its happening. I also cover my emotions up and I have a lot of trouble talking about whats bothering me or what problems i'm having emotionally so I put up a wall and I act tough, or happy and sometimes i'll be the exact opposite but I try to hide it.

Weird things about me: I've grown up in the south all my life so sometimes when I talk a few words they'll come out sounding WAYYY more country and southern then I wanted, I don't have an accent but sometimes my words just come out that way. I also love the smell of cigarette smoke....let me explain. When I was a kid my parents smoked a lot and I was used to smelling it and now it reminds me of home and is sort of comforting.

Things I like: I love swimming (I was on a swim team for about 9 years), I love horror movies, I like rain and the sounds of thunderstorms because its calming to me, I also love the smell of rain, I like cloudy days, cooking, listening to 80's and 90's rock but mainly 90's because 90's is the best, My favorite bands are Bush, Audioslave, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Linkoln Park, Pearl jam but i'm pretty open to anything. Things I dislike: Spiders.......I will scream if I see a spider.

So for the nsfw part.....I'm very shy and i'd like it if someone guided me. But i'm 100% a Bottom and I love praise and maybe a tiny bit of degradation. I also have a big ownership kink like if someone tells me that i'm their's....then I might die. Also if they told me that they "Needed" me I would also die on the spot...in a good way. I'm also a sucker for marking like lovebites and hickies? Yes please. But please tease me and edge me because I prefer not having control so someone else being in control is just...lovely. Also pet names! Like Sunshine, Babygirl, Doll....AHHhh I might melt. Things I don't like are impact play or the whole "Daddy kink" It kinda just makes me cringe

I also don't think I really have a type but.....I do tend to love people who are brooding, and intimidating on the outside but a big teddy bear on the inside because that's how I am sometimes. I hate people who are fake or just passive aggressive because they are super annoying to deal with and honestly if you have something to say then just say it to my face rather than behind my back.

Hello :)

|| I enjoyed reading through this. I'll definitely work on it now. ||

I match you with ~ Jeff The Killer!

First off, he really likes your size and style, he has a think for small girls that can still be tough and that’s something he loves showing off when you get together lmfao, he’s like, “Yeah, my girls strong. Fuck you gonna do about it?”

Now, Jeff is a really unstable, violent guy. A lot of people (even me) don’t even see him ever being interested in being in a relationship, so when the creeps saw Jeff with his arm around you, they were immediately baffled by it.

The truth is, though, this man totally wants to have someone by his side, someone that accepts him even though he’s a killer. Someone that’s open to his feelings and is willing to look past all of the horrible shit he’s done.

You’re like that to him, it took him a very long time to get used to how he felt for you at first. At first he thought his brain was just being stupid, but Jeff isn’t dumb. He knows what these feelings feel like, and he recognized them almost immediately after that.

Jeff is really insane, and he constantly leans on you for support and depends on you to keep him leveled at times. It can get pressuring, but despite it all he always makes sure to not blame you if he ends up doing something dumb because he knows it’s not your fault.

He finds your clothing style pretty hot, he really loves badass kind of outfits with leather and band names, because as I said, he loves to show off that his girl is “cool” or something.

He thinks your resting bitch-face and cold exterior is really badass too, being around you always gives him so much confidence and its a great change from the usual fake confidence he has around everyone that he keeps up as a defense mechanism when in reality he was always pretty insecure.

I honestly think Jeff is an extrovert too, like he loves being around people and interacting with them (When they’re not normal people and don’t think he’s hideous, that is). I canon this mostly because when hes alone, then he’s also alone with his thoughts and his thoughts always end up wandering to his insecurities and what he hates about himself, but you often catch him during these times and you reassure him that everything will be okay and that you still love him.

He totally relates to being the friend that says stupidest shit, you two will often just go up to one of the creeps and just start spouting random shit. He honestly fucking loves being goofy with you, and you two are always creating awesome memories together when you prank the other creeps and sometimes each other and he honestly wouldn’t have it any other way.

When you do stupid shit that gets you in trouble or puts you in danger, he’s always quick to get to you and make sure you’re okay, he would probably panic a lot though. Like, “What the fuck, dumbass?” “How the HELL did you do that???“ as he’s frantically trying to solve the situation. Will most definitely sit there and laugh at you for a good 5-10 minutes once the whole thing is dealt with though.

You being able to stick up for your friends is one of the great qualities about you that he absolutely adores, especially since before he became a killer he would always get bullied and nobody would ever stick up for him, so one day when you defend him against a bunch of assholes it just warms his heart up and makes him feel so loved, but he most likely wont admit that.

He’d let it slip eventually though.

When you’re feeling self-destructive, he is 100% there for you. Although he’s not really the best at giving advice, he’ll still sit there with you and let you talk your heart out and will listen to every single word because he wants to show that same contribution towards you that you’ve shown him. He’ll constantly reassure you that not everything is your fault and that you’re strong, and he’ll make little promises to you.

If it was a person in particular making you feel that way though, he’d definitely make sure to pay a visit to the motherfucker.

He admires your determination to fight for the things you want, but to an extent. He hates it when you overwork yourself or push beyond your limits to the point where it destroys you, and he wants you to know that you’re not alone and you can ask for help, you don’t have to destroy yourself. He’s more than willing to stay right there, by your side.

He understands hiding your true emotions, because well, he’s had to do it a lot around the other creeps and around his family when they were still alive. So he won’t ever push you to talk about somehting if you don’t want to, but he doesn’t want you to pretend to be okay either. He’s more than willing to just lay with you and do whatever you want if it would make you feel better.

He honestly likes how you have a southern accent at times, when he’s feeling upset or like his sanity is draining, your accent really soothes him so sometimes he’ll ask you to lay it on thick because he could honestly listen to you talk to him and listen to your accent all day if he wanted to.

It’s good that you like cigarette smoke because I canon this man smokes very often.

When it storms at night, he’ll always hold you close to him with a blanket and just listen to the storm sounds with you because it soothes him too. This man is really pent up from feeling driven to constantly murder and just sitting with you listening to the rain and thunder is one of the main things that level him.

He’s really not the best.... at cooking.... but, this means you can cook often for him since he won’t for himself. B)

He will just put you in a car and drive for hours to no destination and blast that 80s and 90s music just to see that smile on your face.

This man will 100000000000% destroy any spider within a 10 mile radius of you.

He understands not liking people who are fake because there were a lot of people who talked shit about him when he went to school, and when he has a problem with someone he will always say it to their face and make them understand that they’re a piece of shit to him.

NSFW:

You like being dominated and guided? Good, because this man is at least 95% a top. He thinks it’s adorable that you’re shy and will most definitely be willing to guide you through the whole thing and tell you exactly what to do for him.

Jeff is really possessive tbh, so when he’s fucking you he will constantly say shit like,

“Fucking mine”

“You’re nobody elses“

“You belong to me, only”

This man will definitely bite you everywhere, he lives to just throw you down onto the bed and start biting everywhere on your body and making sure to leave marks just so you know exactly who owns you.

Don’t worry honey, he will spend hours just filling you with his cock and telling you that you cant cum unless you beg more, or he’ll just pull out right when you’re about to cum on him and just slap your folds with his fingers as a way to make fun of you.

He’ll call you things like, “baby” “dollface” “darling” when he’s feeling passionate but oh boy if he’s feeling angry or he’s punishing you? Be prepared to be degraded all night.

There we go <3

Sorry if this is too long lmfao, I just think that Jeff is a really misunderstood piece of shit. I hope you’re having a great day and taking care of yourself, and I hope you enjoyed this matchup. :)

#creepypasta smut #creepypasta #matchup #creepypasta matchups #jeff the killer #anon ask #smut

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ad1thi · 4 years

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@starklysteve rhae asked for some winteriron recs (read: i volunteered to spam rhae w buckytony fics because i adore them), so in no particular order, and based on my memory alone, here are some of my favourite buckytony fics!!

(please remember to leave kudos and comments!!)

American Memorial: @/spqr

“Pick up the shield,” Tony said. Understandably, Bucky told him to go fuck himself

Losing You (Is My Supervillain Origin Story): @amethystinawrites

There are a lot of things that Bucky regrets. The list is, quite frankly, longer than he can handle on most days and, right at the very top, is lying to Tony about who killed his parents. Bucky has known even from before they started dating, but he simply can't bring himself to say anything — to ruin one of the few good things he has in his life. It's selfish and wrong, but Bucky just doesn't know how to tell Tony that he is the one responsible for Howard and Maria Stark's deaths.

So when he starts receiving anonymous emails, threatening to expose the truth to Tony and the rest of the world, Bucky is desperate enough to agree to the blackmailer's terms, even if it means breaking up with Tony. Bucky cannot, under any circumstances, let Tony find out about his parents from anyone but Bucky himself.

Too late Bucky realizes that there is much more to the blackmailer's scheme than just having Bucky break Tony's heart. Too late Bucky realizes that despite his best intentions, he will still end up losing everything — in a much more permanent way than he could ever have imagined.

Hindsight: @amethystinawrites

Ever since he was a little boy, Bucky has dreamed of becoming an astronaut together with Steve, and he can hardly believe their luck when both of them are picked for the Ares 3 crew — the third expedition sent to explore Mars. It is, quite literally, a dream come true.

Things get complicated when Bucky finds himself inconveniently attracted to their mechanical engineer, however. Tony Stark is funny, competent, and absolutely captivating, but considering NASA's strict non-fraternization policy, Bucky knows it's better to keep his interest to himself — at least until they return to Earth. He can wait.

Not once does Bucky consider the possibility that all of them might not make it back alive, or just how much he'll come to regret not acting when he had the chance.

Arsenal: @tangodancer91 (part of a series) (also my all time favourite buckytony series ever)

Two years after the Civil War that tore apart everything she’d bled to build, Toni Stark sacrificed herself for her newly-reinstated teammates and ended up stranded in the past. Freed of her name, her fortune, and her hostile ex-teammates, she built herself a life as an agent for the OSS, the American secret service, and, having nothing to lose, accepted a mission to infiltrate the newest player in the war: an organization that call themselves HYDRA.

Then, she met a young draftee with a dreadfully familiar face, and they clicked like she had never clicked with anyone before. By the time she realized she’d fallen for the man who’d cost her everything, it was too late, but she’d always been an all or nothing type of girl, and if she was damning herself, well then…might as well go all the way.

Yield: @aurumacadicus (this is an a/b/o verse fic)

All Bucky has ever wanted was to win the contest for Tony's hand in marriage. It's a bit harder now that he's down to one arm, but luckily his friends are willing to help make up the difference.

Barnes Family Motors Inc: @phlintandsteel-ao3 (this is an a/b/o verse fic)

In a world where alphas legally own omegas, Bucky is just a small time mechanic from Brooklyn who gets lucky in a poker game. Tony is an omega whose life is fraught with abuse, until his luck suddenly takes a turn for the better.

In the grand scheme of things they may only be able to make little differences in the lives of those around them, but that doesn't mean it's not worth making them. After all, a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.

The Long Con (don’t kid yourself): @phlintandsteel-ao3

When Tony finds out that Howard is thinking about changing the terms of Tony’s trust fund, he embarks on a not-so-elaborate scheme to prove that he’s totally settling down and not in continued need of Howard’s “guidance” until 25 instead of 21. Step 1: Get a fiance Step 2: ??? Step 3: Profit (Finally be free of Howard)

Unfortunately, Tony Stark is the worst con-artist ever, and may only be kidding himself..

Hot Mess: @/niki

“Would serve him right if we had the world's most ill-advised one night stand.”

Imperceptions and Assumptions: @/NarutoRox

Afterward, Bucky would look back on their first meeting with fondness and a healthy dose of amusement. At the time, though, he’d mostly been confused - and more than a little embarrassed.

Bucky hadn’t paid much attention to the media in his early days, and hadn’t bothered really reading up on the team or anything, either, so when Steve had said ‘Tony Stark’, Bucky had just assumed.

The same way he’d looked at the three people who’d walked through the door - an imposing redhead in heels, a bored-looking brunette who dimpled when she saw him and Steve, and a sturdy-looking man wearing a slight glower - locked eyes on the man, and assumed him to be the infamous Tony Stark Steve wouldn’t shut up about.

It was Bucky’s first lesson when it came to Natasha Antonia ‘Toni’ Stark - never assume.

In which Tony Stark is actually Natasha Antonia 'Toni' Stark (which everyone knows) as well as Iron Man (which everyone does not know), assumptions are made, and there are misunderstandings.

From this prompt: How about a cross between my two favorite tropes? Nobody knows who iron man is other than Natasha/Antonia Stark's bodyguard but Bucky is in love with one or both of them

i know, you know (that i’m not telling the truth) : @imposter-human

psychic tony stark is called to work a routine case with detective bucky barnes; only, he seems to be more connected to the case than anyone thought

or, a psych au!!

the new romeo and juliet: @imposter-human

Bucky and Tony weren’t dating, because a firefighter and a detective couldn’t date (never mind that Tony hadn’t slept with anyone else since their thing had started, and he and Bucky hung out with an alarming frequency, and the whole precinct thought that they were an item). It didn't matter how many nights they spent together, how Bucky had a drawer of Tony's things and vice versa, they just couldn't.

It was a classic Romeo and Juliet situation, if Romeo and Juliet actively disliked each other on top of everything.

if found, please return to: @capnshellhead

Tony Stark shows up at Bucky's bar after a really tough break up and Bucky decides to look after him

gods of carnage: @deathsweetqueen (part of a series)

On May 29, 1970, the Winter Soldier feels a burning sensation and looks down at his wrist to find a single name written in enduring ink: Antonia Margaret Stark.

HYDRA, fearing the defiance of their greatest asset due to a bond that cannot and will not be denied its due, immediately dispatches the Soldier, to locate, collect and deliver this newborn girl to HYDRA, which will become her new home, her new family and her entire world - to be raised as another one of HYDRA’s great warriors: their Engineer.

But the Engineer is a faulty asset. She thinks things that may get her killed one day. She wants things that she shouldn’t, that are not hers to want. She has a mind and body that belong more to herself than any handler, than any commander she may have.

And if she cuts her strings, when she cuts her strings, well, when you put sheep next to wolves, you ask for a bloodbath.

where i walk, you follow (where i burn, you burn): @deathsweetqueen

At his father's command, Anthony Stark trades in his northern keep for a southern crown, wedded and bedded by Alexander of House Pierce, First of His Name.

Tony does his duty, becomes a wolf in name only, toothless and clawless, and a dark, gleaming ornament for the King, even if he would make himself a widower a hundred times over.

Honour demanded it of him, and so he did.

But it is Ser James Barnes, named the Kingslayer for his sins during the Rebellion, that draws his eye, gives him comfort in this pit of liars and monsters

So, what is honour compared to a good man's love? They are only human, and the gods have fashioned us for love.

[Fic by deathsweetqueen, Art by MassiveSpaceWren]

Cat Parenting (And Other Meet Cutes): @singingwithoutwords (this is an a/b/o verse fic)

Of all the ways Bucky could have finally gotten a chance to speak to his crush, why did it have to be his cat getting Tony's cat pregnant?

Codename Heartbreaker: @rinnwrites (part of a series)

Today was a day that, contrary to popular belief, Tony Stark had most certainly not been looking forward to. It was election day, or election night, rather, and the polls were closed, the results were in; Howard Stark was the next President of the United States of America.

Tony Stark Bingo - R3: Election Day

Fate Strings Not Required: @akira-of-the-twilight

“Hey doll,” a new voice said from Tony’s side.

Tony glanced at the person approaching.

Someone was working the rugged, bad boy look. The new guy rocked a leather jacket and blue jeans.

His blue eyes lit up with joy as he approached Tony. “Something wrong here?” The new guy gave the first guy--the one insisting he was Tony's soul mate--a once over then turned his full attention on Tony. “You’re looking a little stressed, anything I can do?”

Tony took the hint.

Tony wrapped his hand around the new guy’s elbow. He kept his touch light and breakable in case he’d misread the cue.

“Just some guy claiming to be my soul mate, babe.”

The new guy’s eyebrows rose to his hairline in surprise. He chuckled and gave the first guy a smirk. “Strange. Last time I checked we were soul mates.”

Siren’s Treasure: @akira-of-the-twilight

Prompt: I really love the idea of playboy!Bucky flirt of the seven seas first-mate to Captain Rogers, falling completely overboard in love with our Blacksmith-Inventor Inexperienced!Tony who goes from confident captive to shy woe-begone man in the presence of Bucky's fierce affections. Virgin!Tony wonders what a siren like Bucky could possibly want with him. Bucky wants to know what the fuck Logan thinks he's doing flirting with the man who stole his heart like sunken treasures. Happy ending please?

“Sirens killed your crew?” Steve repeated.

The dark haired man nodded. Just an hour ago the Avenger crew had found the man clinging to driftwood in the middle of the ocean. Now he clutched the flask of rum Bucky had given him like it was all that kept him buoyant during these tumultuous times.

The man—Tony—had already downed more than half the flask and was still sober. “Not exactly my crew, but close enough. Yeah.” Tony uncapped the flask and threw back a mouthful.

Steve frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

Tony shrugged. “I wasn’t captain of the ship.”

“So what were you?” Steve pressed.

Road hazards: @riotwritesthings

Steve and Bucky's BFF road trip is not going well. For starters, Steve couldn't even make it, and for some bizarre reason asked Tony to take his place. The fact that it’s only a couple days before someone is trying to kill them isn’t nearly as stressful as the fact that Bucky and Tony have never really had an actual conversation.

It’s hard to avoid someone when stuck in a car with them though, and if they manage to stay alive they just might learn a thing or two.

Once Upon a Wintertime: @iam93percentstardust (this is an a/b/o verse fic)

Look, Bucky knows that he’s fulfilling every cliché in the book right now. He knows that, as a bodyguard, he’s not supposed to fall in love with his client. But Tony’s good and sweet and so, so lonely and how could Bucky not? He thinks he’s got a shot after Tony breaks up with his boyfriend but on a trip across the country, he finds out that Tony needs a bondmate or the board will steal SI—and Ty’s already said yes.

little bird: @thxngam

Bucky laughs, and it’s loud and unbidden, a way he hadn’t laughed for years before, tugging his giggling omega into his lap. Tony quiets and nestles into Bucky’s chest like he was made to belong there, and Bucky has noticed several times that Tony is much smaller than he is, but he never quite noticed how Tony always seemed to curl into him as a reason for his size.

Tony nestles like a little bird.

Teenage Dream: @anthonyed

Tony Stark develops a crush on the school's bad boy who is too cool to hang out with anyone. At least, it's what Tony thinks. He never considered that James Barnes is probably as lonely as he is.

(in the process of editing)

The Best Laid Plans (of Mice and Men): @arboreal-elm-ash-oak

His Dark Materials AU

It was Annalise who noticed their small visitor first.

“Tony,” the spider daemon said softly, skittering up the collar of his dress shirt, two of her eight legs resting delicately against his cheek, “Don’t startle them, but I believe we have a guest. Look, by the coffee table.”

A Kitten and a Soldier: @/ThatDamnKennedyKid

Bucky hadn't heard from Rumlow in years - since the whole Winter Soldier fiasco in Siberia. They've been discharged for nearly six years, but when he gets a message that only says "I need your help" , he grabs his jacket and keys.

The Prince’s Bride: @hddnone

After Tony loses the love of his life to pirates on the high sea, not much matters to him. He agrees to wed Prince Justin Hammer to gain access to vibranium and shut himself away in his workshop until the end of time, but a group of ruffians kidnap Tony to take him to Hydra.

Tony's rescue takes on an unlikely form - the Dread Pirate Rogers, who killed the love of his life five years ago.

A Princess Bride AU

A Kind of Destiny: @weethreequarter

A chance meeting at a wedding brings together an American war veteran and the Prince of Wales. Little do they know, the wheels have been set in motion for a relationship which will change not only their lives, but the monarchy itself. Bucky and Tony strike up a friendship at Steve and Peggy’s wedding, a friendship that soon develops into more. But it’s not so simple: Tony is the Prince of Wales, and heir to the throne of Great Britain and the United Kingdom. Any relationship is played out in the press and public eye, and then there's that pesky issue of succession to consider too. But Bucky is no coward, and when he finds something he wants, he’s prepared to fight for it. And fight he will, at Tony's side, for their very own fairy tale ending.

#adi's rec list #buckytony #winteriron #bucky barnes/tony stark #bucky barnes x tony stark #bucky/tony #bucky x tony #i should create a tag for fic rec lists #this got sort of long so ive hidden some of them under a read more #that doesn't mean they're any less good though!!

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muertawrites · 4 years

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Two Halves - Chapter Five (Zuko x Reader)

Part Four

Word Count: 3,300

Author’s Note: I was up until 4am finishing this on Thursday night, and honestly, the way my single brain cell was barely functioning at that point, I’m surprised this even got done, let alone that it got done relatively well. We’re also getting super close to 1,000 followers, so if you like this series or any of my other works, PLEASE subscribe! I’ve got some fun stuff planned once we get there that I’m really excited to start planning!

~ Muerta

Despite their rocky beginning, your first few weeks as Lady of the Fire Nation go surprisingly well. After your conflict with Advisor Lin, everyone begins to treat you with newfound respect - even Zuko. Your first breakfast together was the last time he advised any of your aids to be moderate or keep their distance from you, instead encouraging them to speak to you as directly as they would him, openly reproving them when they treat you as if you aren't capable of grasping everything they face you with; of course, you very much feel like you aren't, remaining stoic during morning briefings in the dining room while inwardly panicking, hearing everything but only able to decipher about half of it. You’re lucky you’re still shadowing the Firelord, learning your place and duties; once you’re sent out on your own, you have a feeling you’ll drown before you even get the chance to tread water.

Protective as he is, Sokka arranges to stay in the palace until you’re completely settled, stating that it’s his duty as the chief ambassador for the Southern Water Tribe; you know that the real reason is because he’s worried to death about you, trying his hardest to keep up the tough, unflappable big brother act for nobody's sake but his own. Toph also decides to extend her trip, quite concerned herself but mostly using the political tension as an excuse to catch up with you, Zuko, and Iroh - you don't mind, since having her around is an endless comfort to you, and you often invite her to sleep in your room so you can pretend that you’re just two friends enjoying normal young adult lives.

Each day spent in Firelady prep school is a new lesson in what exactly the role means, and you’re quickly finding that it’s much more than observing any of the first ladies of the Water Tribe could have ever prepared you for. They were considered accessories to their chiefs, appearing beside their husbands mostly for aesthetics and only truly serving the purpose of giving birth to sons to take his place; as the Firelord’s wife, you’re seen as an extension of him, and he an extension of you. Your people view you as the monarch and matriarch of a massive, powerful clan, and expect you to live and act in sync with one another for the betterment of your children, both literal and metaphorical. Nation comes before everything, any action that could suggest intentions otherwise criticized with the utmost scrutiny; disgrace is all too easy, while honor seems near impossible.

You have tea with Zuko every night before bed; the more you learn about the culture of his upbringing, the more you empathize with his younger self.

“I understand now why you were so angry,” you admit to him one night. “They make you feel as if just being human were a mistake. I'm already frustrated - I can't imagine what seventeen years of it was like.”

Zuko hums, his face taking on a wistful, somber expression.

“That's what my father did to me,” he explains. “Everything was wrong, even if it was what felt natural.”

He takes your hand in his, his thumb grazing over your knuckles as he gazes off in thought.

“We can change that, though,” he tells you. “Things already feel better with you here.”

For a country that just ended a century long war in which they were the main aggressor, you would think that your advisors would put more energy into matters of diplomatic affairs than your image.

“I'm just uncertain what a choice like this could make the nation feel,” Advisor Yong says. “We’re already walking a very delicate line.”

You stand in one of the palace’s many meeting parlors with Zuko, Advisors Yong and Sung, Sokka, Iroh, and the royal seamstress, pouring over multiple yards of fabric she's brought for the robes that will immortalize you in your wedding portrait. For the past forty-five minutes, you've been debating whether you should be pictured wearing Fire Nation or Water Tribe clothes - the proceedings have been dismal at best.

“The representation of our tribe is important to our people,” Sokka replies to Advisor Yong. “We’ve been small for decades, and mostly because of the Fire Nation - she should wear a traditional dress.”

“But certain people in our nation are still very put off by the idea of a foreign queen,” Advisor Yong argues. “A man was already killed over the matter; embracing it so fully could spark anger and endanger her and the Firelord even more.”

In the time you've spent with Advisor Yong, she's grown to be your favorite of anyone within the royal council. Her small stature and plump, motherly features make her seem gentle and subdued, but her kindness only runs so deep; when faced with confrontation, she's like an angry bull - fierce, but in a way that's so swift and graceful, you barely notice her goring into you until she's shredded you to pieces. She's been one of your most supportive council members as well, guiding you in matters of proper Fire Nation etiquette and culture and sticking her neck out farther than could possibly be expected to keep you safe. You can see Sokka getting irritable, but you know she speaks with a voice that only has your best interests in mind.

“Perhaps we should consider the external perception,” Advisor Sung suggests. His soft spoken manner is a welcome reprieve from the increasing bitterness in Yong and Sokka’s tones. “Yes, it's quite important that the Southern Tribe is recognized, and doing so will present a compassionate image of our nation. On the other hand, however, having our lord and lady in different traditional dress could suggest division; picturing them as the same would imply a more unified pair.”

“Maybe we should put Zuko in a Water Tribe outfit,” you suggest flatly. “Make it look like we’re pushing you guys around for a change.”

Zuko snickers beside you, raising a hand to his mouth to (ineffectively) stifle the sound under the guise of a cough. The rest of the room is deathly silent, its occupants either oblivious to your sarcasm or deeply unamused by it.

“I believe what our lady is trying to convey,” Iroh chimes in, “is that we have hardly taken her own thoughts into consideration. After all, it is her marriage and her people she must represent.”

“Okay, so what do you think?” Sokka prods, turning to you. “Do you want to wear Fire Nation clothes or Water Tribe ones?”

You sigh, dropping your eyes to the mixture of red and blue fabric sprawled out before you.

“Honestly? I don't know,” you confess. “There are too many issues with either choice. I think we need more time to gauge how people react to me just being here before we decide.”

“My lady, I understand,” Advisor Yong says, “but as cautious as we have to be, we can't be too hesitant; you can’t possibly hope to bear children in a few months’ time if we can't come to a decision on something like this in a timely manner.”

You and Zuko both jolt, instinctively backing away from one another.

“Children will come much later,” Zuko sputters, his cheeks turning the same shade as his robes. “Right now we have to focus on getting the people of our nations to agree with each other.”

“And children are an important part of doing so,” Advisor Yong explains. “They’ll serve to physically embody the union of the two nations; the sooner you become pregnant, my lady, the quicker we may resolve the issue.”

“I’m not going to bring a baby into this world just to be a political pawn,” you snap, a bit more harshly than you intend to. “That wouldn’t be fair and I couldn’t do that to my kid.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Zuko glance at you with an expression you can’t quite place. You want to reach for him but restrain yourself, feeling strange about showing him any sort of intimacy with an audience.

“We need to decide what will be done about this portrait before we decide what will be done about heirs,” Iroh agrees. “We should give our lady more time to think on the matter. Could we spare another day?”

Advisors Yong and Sung look to one another, Advisor Sung nodding his compliance. Advisor Yong also concedes, her tone almost apologetic when she speaks.

“Another day will be just fine,” she says. “We’ll leave the final decision to you and your husband, my lady. Have Rina bring your instructions to the seamstress when you’re ready.”

Your stomach flutters manically when you hear the words “your husband”. Advisor Yong has never referred to him as such, only ever calling him “the Firelord”; somehow, coming from her, the title feels much more significant than just the result of an arranged marriage.

You flop down in the grass beside Zuko, burying your face in the sleeves of your robe. He chuckles, tossing another apple peel to the turtle ducks in the courtyard pond.

“At least they’re being nice,” he consoles you. “Advisor Yong called me a coward in front of the whole council when I told her I wasn’t sure about getting married. She was right, but it’s hard getting your ass handed to you by someone who looks like a sweet little grandmother.”

You sigh, rolling over onto your back and tilting your head to look up at him. He gives you a faint, assuring smile, which you can’t help but return.

“I totally understand why you snapped when we were kids,” you tell him. “I’ve been here less than a month and I already want to go apeshit. Did you know that one of our advisors told me to take my betrothal necklace off the other day? The slimy little bastard waited until you left the room to do it, too! He told me it made me look less like a ‘naturalized Fire Nation woman’, and I told him that anyone who expected me to look like one was either stupid or delusional. And what, we need to have kids right way for the sake of political leverage? That’s horrible! What kind of monster brings a child into the world just to use them their whole life??”

You draw back when you notice Zuko’s fallen expression. You’ve sat up by this point, and your near-screaming has scared the turtle ducks to the other side of the pond. You feel your heart drop into your gut, wishing you could take the words back.

“Oh, Zuko,” you breathe. “I’m sorry. I didn’t…”

Zuko shakes his head, closing his eyes and taking a deep, measured breath. You watch his chest rise and fall, his shoulders loosening as he exhales. When he opens his eyes again, he meets yours, the knot between his brows unraveling.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “I know. My father was a monster. And my mother… she just did what she was told. I never realized how much she sacrificed for me until she was gone.”

You inch closer to him, warily reaching for his hand. He takes it, lacing his fingers with yours and gently tugging you to sit beside him, reclining against the trunk of an ancient maple tree. He leans into you, clutching your hand tightly.

“Sometimes I wish the worst thing he did to me was use me,” he laments. “Then maybe I wouldn’t have done such awful things to the people who loved me.”

“Zuko,” you whisper, tightly squeezing his hand, “you’re not your father. Just the fact that you asked me to marry you proves that. You didn’t choose your family based on who would make you powerful. You chose me because you love my siblings, and they love you, and that’s exactly why I agreed to be with you. I never met your father, but I know for a fact that he never knew love like you do; he wouldn’t allow himself to because he thought it was weakness. But you’re so much stronger than he is, and could ever be, because Katara and Sokka, Aang and Toph, and Iroh - all of us are here with you. You allow yourself to show weakness in loving us, which is the bravest thing you could ever do. You are nothing like Ozai.”

To your surprise, Zuko smirks at you; the corners of his eyes glimmer with the buds of tears, however, and the rest of his features don’t rise to match the expression on his lips.

“No wonder Uncle likes you so much,” he says. “You sound just like him.”

You scoff, punching him in the shoulder. He laughs, playfully tossing you over his lap and pinching the soft sides of your stomach, an area he discovered was sensitive by accident one day whilst he was walking you through the palace; you giggle hysterically, trying in vain to fend off the attack. He retreats after a little while, sighing as he cradles you in his arms - your head presses to his chest while his chin rests atop your head, hugging you tightly in a way he hasn’t done before. You wrap yourself around him, arms latching about his waist to hold him just as closely.

“I won’t let them pressure us,” he assures you. “We’re family, and we have to take care of each other. That’s all I ever want to do for you.”

You nestle into him, curling your body closer to his while your arms squeeze at his sides. He kisses the crest of your head, a rare display of affection he’s only done a handful of times - it makes you realize that even when you were teenagers, and Sokka started to make serious suggestions about keeping his promise of marrying you after Hakoda left you in his care, he never once made you feel as safe as Zuko does.

“I hope I wasn't interrupting anything with my invitation,” Iroh greets you when you arrive at his chambers.

Before your nightly pot of tea with Zuko, a messenger came to your quarters telling you that Iroh wished to see you; when you asked why, the messenger told you that the general wanted to teach you to play Pai Sho. You looked to Zuko quizzically, wondering what was so important about knowing how to play a board game that you needed to be summoned so late in the evening, and he sent you off, assuring you that, knowing Iroh, it was worth taking up the offer.

“Just Zuko’s tea,” you tell him, “which, if it weren't for his company, I think I'd bail on every night.”

Iroh chuckles, leading you inside and lowering you onto a cushion on one end of a large Pai Sho table; he takes the other seat, smiling good-naturedly at you.

“Unfortunately, my nephew has never quite taken to the art of tea brewing,” he says, “no matter how many times I've tried to teach him; I take comfort in the fact that he's much better with a sword than I am, instead.”

You grin, watching as the old man spreads a set of tiles across the game board.

“Do you know of the significance of Pai Sho within the royal families of the Fire Nation?” he asks; you shake your head in response.

“It is traditionally learned as a way of teaching our young leaders to rule with strategy,” he explains. “It is meant to teach a balance between inner passions and outward logic, as well as how to observe one’s peers; those who practice Pai Sho diligently know how to pinpoint an opponent’s weaknesses while understanding and controlling their own, keeping others from using their shortcomings against them.

“Each tile has a meaning,” he continues, “and represents a different positive or negative attribute. They may only move in certain ways, but can change their effect on the game based on how the player chooses to use them within each environment. For example…”

Iroh goes on to explain each tile and its movements to you, walking you through each element of the game and practicing different tiles with you until you can actually place them in a somewhat skilled way. When you're comfortable, he plays a simple game with you, aiding you in which possibilities cause which consequences and pointing out ways you can better defend your side of the board. You play five games with him in total, never winning but trying as if you stood a chance against such a skilled player as him.

When you lose the last game, Iroh removes the last tile you played and replaces it with the white lotus - you quirk your brow, wondering why that would be the better move.

“I thought the white lotus was a weak tile,” you question him. “Why put it up against something as strong as the flame tile?”

“There are no weak tiles in Pai Sho,” Iroh instructs you, “only ones that are often overlooked. Sometimes we must look at things from a different perspective, you see; manipulate the odds by doing something unorthodox and unexpected. If your opponent cannot anticipate your actions, they cannot overcome you.”

Iroh removes the white lotus from the board, taking your hand within his and placing it in your open palm. He folds your fingers over it, closing your hand between both of his.

“Keep this with you,” he says. “It may help you someday.”

“But won't your board be incomplete?” you ask.

Iroh chuckles, giving you a mischievous wink that makes you feel almost as if the man is in some way omniscient.

“I have plenty of others,” he assures you. “It will do much more good in your hands.”

The next day, you accompany Rina to the seamstress’s workshop, wanting to give her the instructions for your portrait dress yourself. When you tell her this, Rina is clearly confused - she gently attempts to explain to you that it isn’t necessary, that she’s supposed to handle these sorts of things for you, but once you reveal what you have in mind, she shifts completely.

“The council is going to hate that,” she says. “I think it’s a great idea. I can take you to the seamstress, come with me.”

When you relay your plans to the seamstress, she’s also shocked - her eyes widen, and she physically backs away from you as if even considering following your orders will get her executed for treason.

“Are you sure?” she asks. “It isn’t what the Firelady would typically do…”

“And I’m not a typical Firelady,” you reply, your tone bright and straightforward. “I’ve been asked to do what will create compromise, and this is the best compromise I can think of; I’m simply doing what I’m meant to.”

The seamstress agrees, but only after you give her your vow that she won’t take any of the blame should the idea backfire (you're in charge, after all, so what can anyone do? She’s just following orders.)

In white fabric, she makes a set of robes for Zuko and a dress for you, each including elements crafted in Fire Nation and Water Tribe tradition. She then takes each set to its own vat of hot water, adding blue dye to one and red dye to the other - she places the pieces in, looking nervously up at you as you approach the twin cauldrons.

“I just want to make one last adjustment,” you tell her.

Before she can respond, you take a bucket of blue dye and a bucket of red and tip each one into the opposite vat. The garments swirl as if caught in the midst of a tempestuous storm, the dye bleeding into the pristine fabric until it stains a shade of vivid, furious purple.

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heavencollins · 3 years

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Top 10 Films of 2020: Part One

2020 was a rough year for a lot of reasons, but even more rough due to the lack of an existent film industry for over half of the year. Sure, there are small productions happening and movies being released on VOD, as well as some in theatres, but so many great films were pushed back this year—movies I was excited to possibly have on my top ten. Minari, Promising Young Woman, Zola, The Green Knight, Saint Maud. Okay most of those are A24 releases but A24 literally released next to none of their slate for this year and it’s one of the most disappointing things to happen in the entertainment industry in my opinion.

Alas, I still found cinema through streaming, paying $20 for a VOD rental, and those amazing $1.80 rentals from Redbox (remember when they were only a dollar? because I do). And honestly? It was probably the hardest time curating a top ten that I’ve had in a long time; with so much just available through the internet and owning every single popular streaming service, it was both impossible to watch everything I wanted but also since I watched a lot of what i wanted, I ended up loving most of it. For a year that was so dismal in every other way possible, the films that were released ended up being a shining light more often than not. Of course, like every other year, a lot of hot garbage came out too, but that isn’t the focus of this—the great, amazing, can’t believe these are real films.

So let’s start from number ten. This was my first and only $20 rental this year, starring a man who I personally admire: Pete Davidson.

10. The King Of Staten Island, directed by Judd Apatow and written by Judd Apatow, Pete Davidson, and Dave Sirus.

Judd Apatow is one of the first directors who I watched religiously, and hearing that he was doing a film with Pete Davidson that was essentially based on Davidson’s life meant that I knew I’d have to watch it. Scott, played by Davidson, is a twenty-something with no direct path in life; he lives with his mother, his sister is going off to college—something he never attempted—and he has no real career. His father died in a large building structure fire, much like Davidson’s actual father, a firefighter who passed away while responding to the twin towers during 9/11. Scott is emotionally a wreck, plagued with depression and anxiety, a chronic weed smoker, and dreams of being a tattoo artist that he practices by tattooing his group of rag-tag friends, but none of the tattoos are very great.

The thing about an Apatow film is they border the line between comedy and drama very well, kind of a complicated little dance. But, King of Staten Island is very much a drama more than a comedy. Bill Burr plays Ray, the father of a kid that Scott tattoos earlier on in the film. Ray comes stomping up to Scott’s mother’s house, and Margie, played by Marissa Tomei, opens the door. It’s essentially love at first sight. She hasn’t dated since Scott’s father passed, and to make matters worse, Ray is also a firefighter. This complicates emotions for Scott, as he loves his mother but also doesn’t know how to deal with the feeling that his mother is finally moving on and may face heartbreak again.

Davidson puts it all on the table in this film. It’s poignant and realistic; at the start, Scott is driving down the highway and closes his eyes, way longer than you should. It sets the tone from the start that this man isn’t okay, but also he’s scared of dying because as soon as he opens his eyes again and sees he may be about to crash, he quickly panics and readjusts his wheel. This struck a chord with me as most people know that Davidson has struggled with suicidal thoughts in the past. It’s a beautiful film that memorializes both how much Davidson’s father meant to him, but also the cycles of grief and trauma that last throughout your life.

9: Birds of Prey (and the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn), directed by Cathy Yan and written by Christina Hodson.

Suicide Squad is one of the worst movies I’ve ever seen period, fact. Birds of Prey is one of the best movies I’ve ever seen period, fact. I never, ever, ever thought I’d see a day where a DC movie was in my top ten, but this year anything is possible. Birds of Prey is a display of feminism, badassery, and all around perfection. You jump right into the story, hearing Margot Robbie’s classic Harley Quinn voice laid over an animation showing what we missed in her life so far, which means you don’t have to have any previous knowledge of the other films. Birds of Prey is meant to stand alone from any other movie preceding this one, and that’s just part of why it’s so great.

This film knows not to take itself too seriously. Margot Robbie is a dream as Harley Quinn, using just the right amount of playfulness to put a little edge on her, while also maintaining the manic-panic-pixie-dream-girl effect. Perhaps the best scene is when Harley goes and purchases the perfect egg breakfast sandwich, and then she drops it, causing a dramatic slow motion effect that proves she really does love that sandwich more than anything in the world. Or her realistic apartment, nothing truly fancy, just a little hole in the wall above a rundown Chinese restaurant. But then she has an amazing ensemble of other women actors around her, which are what really uplift her performance.

The funhouse fight scene at the end may be the best in superhero movie history. I mean, I guess, is Harley Quinn really a superhero? She’s kind of the anti-hero, which is what makes her so great. She’s somebody who isn’t even close to perfect but she still succeeds and tries to help and uplift the other women on her team. There’s just something special about this movie that made me smile and laugh the entire time. It’s a reminder that it’s okay to have fun every once in a while.

8: The Assistant, directed and written by Kitty Green.

For those who don’t know, I work as an assistant during the day for a small business here in Vermont. The work is mundane but it’s a job that’s giving me experience for the future. In The Assistant, Jane, played by Julia Garner, is an assistant to a “powerful entertainment mogul.” She gets lunch, answers phones, is the first one into the office, the last one out of the office, finds herself overshadowed by her male counterparts and getting the majority of the “grunt” work, and becomes more and more aware of what’s really going on at this office throughout a day in her life.

What’s interesting about this film is nothing is ever seen; everything Jane starts to feel is just based on intuition. Her boss is tricky, finding ways to keep his abuse of women out of the public eye, out of the eye of any female employees. This is obviously in response to #MeToo, Times Up, and the Harvey Weinstein news from the last few years, and it works surprisingly well as a film that just unnerves you and gets under your skin.

The reality of assault in the film industry is that until it’s widely public and known, nobody is going to know about it. You can report it to your company, to other women, to other men, to anybody, and nobody will take you seriously until they either experience it themselves or know somebody else who has. The Assistant hits the ball out of the park with the ending, even if it doesn’t give a vindictive satisfaction to viewers, because it’s simply the truth of the matter.

7: Tenet, directed and written by Christopher Nolan.

I really don’t know what to say about this one. It’s really controversial to like it but I absolutely LOVED this movie, it’s pure fucking vibes. A lot of people are cinema purists, which I am not, and will never claim to be, which was a huge deal with this film. Personally, this works way better at home than it ever would in a theater. It’s slightly long, the sound mixing makes it so it can be hard to hear dialogue over loud noises and the score, and it’s the type of movie you may have to rewind a few times.

My partner and I watched this in 4K Ultra HD with subtitles on, and let me tell you, it was amazing. Everything about the acting, the diversity in the film, the fact that Nolan literally has a character say “Don’t try to understand it, just experience it”???? VIBES. That’s all I can say about it. Plus, Elizabeth Debicki plays an actual badass who stands against her abuser and that enough is five stars. A tall queen standing up against her short joker—absolute feminism.

Sure, no character gets any development, but is that seriously necessary for every film? It’s an action flick about time and space and none of it makes sense and you can’t force it to. Why does everything need to make sense in a time where we are literally living through a pandemic? Just sit back, relax, and enjoy the experience of Tenet. It’s more fun when you don’t take it seriously.

6: The Devil All The Time, directed by Antonio Campos and written by Antonio Campos, Donald Ray Pollock, and Paulo Campos.

I never read the book this was based on, but this film made me want to. I love a film where multiple plot lines converge into one central story and this one did it so well, all with the same theme surrounding every single character: the guilt of sin and how no matter how much you think you can save yourself, you can’t truly save yourself. I’m not a huge fan of Tom Holland, but he shines as Arvin from beginning to end. Pattinson brings a creepy southern preacher to life with an accent that he will never be able to match again. Keough gives a performance you can only sympathize with as you know she’s being manipulated the entire time. Every character in this is corrupt in their own way but some in worse ways than others.

I don’t know how much to say about this one without spoiling it, either, because the core of this film is on the characters and what leads to their untimely ends, because pretty much everybody ends up dead. It’s grim and dark but it’s so beautiful and tells the story in a way that keeps you interested throughout the entire run time. It surprised me but there’s never truly been a Robert Pattinson starring movie that I’ve hated, so am I really surprised? I’m a TwiHard at heart even at age 22.

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tardis-stowaway · 5 years

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Ten years after the Not-pocalypse, Adam Young, age 21 and recently graduated from university:

-Works in a crappy retail job and lives in a tiny, crappy flat in London

-The crappy flat has no sound insulation, so he’s always hearing the absurd amount of movement from the people in the flat above and the really loud but not quite intelligible conversations from the people in the flat next door. It’s a long way to the nearest public park, and he misses the green of home.

-Is not all that good at his customer service job, with the exception that if a customer is irrationally angry about something, he says he wants to make sure he understands the problem and repeats their complaint back to them with this look in his eyes, and they universally back down and often apologize. His coworkers love him for it. Everything else is just drudgery.

-Single, despite his best efforts. Okay, maybe not his best efforts, but some efforts.

-Knows that his childhood was uncommonly idyllic at least partly due to his powers. He’s not entirely sure how his life went quite so off the rails lately.

-Maybe his powers have faded gradually since he rejected his destiny, or maybe it’s just that on some level he absorbed the expectation that being in one’s early 20’s means being broke and a little lost, and the expectation made it happen whether he wanted it or not.

-Or maybe he just should’ve chosen a more employable course of study at uni instead of comparative religion. In his defense, it seemed relevant to his life.

-Spends much of his free time on climate crisis activism. He’ll be damned (ha) if he stood against the forces of Heaven and Hell, the Four Horsepeople of the Apocalypse, and his own birthright to preserve the continuing existence of humanity on the Earth only for humans to blunder into destroying themselves unintentionally through greed and shortsighted decisions.

-He’s been doing this since he was twelve, when Brian sent the Them’s group text an article about the group Extinction Rebellion with the caption “named for us?? :)” Adam had laughed, then actually read the article. Within a week he’d convinced the Them and a dozen of their classmates to show up at the next town council meeting with a list of sustainability demands.

-No matter how many civil disobedience events he takes part in, he never seems to get arrested. Adam suspects it’s his supernatural entity privilege. Pepper says it’s probably mostly that he’s white and great at charming his way out of trouble.

-He’s still friends with all of the Them, but they don’t live especially close together. He does have a flatmate, an American who Adam met at uni.

-At this point you, a genre-savvy reader of much Good Omens fic and meta, are probably seeing the word “American” and thinking that Adam is flatmates with Warlock Dowling. For once, you are wrong.

-Adam’s flatmate is Jesus.

-Not Jesus Christ, but a young man named Jesus Dominguez, pronounced the Spanish way (like hay-soos).

-Jesus is from Southern California, and he talks more than a little bit like a surfer stereotype. He’s got warm brown skin, shoulder-length dark hair in perpetually-mussed waves, and a little beard. He’s kinda leaning into the look to mess with people, but it’s also the same style found on at least a third of the other male-presenting hipsters in London.

-When he learned that he was going to share a flat with someone named Jesus, Adam called Crowley and Aziraphale. He’s never been gladder that he stayed in touch with them, because he NEEDED someone who understood how the Antichrist and Jesus sharing a flat sounded like the setup for a joke or a sitcom. Crowley did indeed laugh out loud, then told Adam that as a fellow lapsed member of the forces of Hell, he could personally recommend sharing quarters with a heavenly adversary. Aziraphale just muttered “oh, stop” at Crowley.

-Adam moved to London because it was easier to get to the important protests there, and because he was curious. He spent the first six months desperately homesick for Tadfield. The city was so crowded but somehow he still felt so alone, other than Jesus.

-Then a midnight fire-alarm in their building sent him and Jesus into the streets along with dozens of their neighbors. Adam finally met the people in the flat above theirs who made all that moving around noise. They were an older couple who took ballroom dancing lessons at the senior center and liked to practice at home. Mrs. Kapoor tried to teach Adam how to foxtrot right there on the pavement in the middle of the night. He stepped on her feet, but since he was in bare feet and she’d actually taken the time to find shoes it wasn’t a big deal.

-Meanwhile Jesus was finally talking to the loud young men from next door. By the time Adam wandered over, Jesus had learned their names (Leon, Seamus, and Nazim) and secured an invitation for the two of them to come over to watch Saturday’s football match, and to join their next D&D campaign (“just no more paladins,” said Nazim). Adam looked forward to finding out whether it was the D&D or the football that was the cause of more yelling.

-As the evacuation stretched on with no hint of either actual fire or clearance to go back inside, the building’s children began to get fussy. Adam found a coin on the ground (successfully picking it up, because Crowley didn’t make it to this neighborhood very often) and proceeded to distract them with stage magic.

-He initially learned stage magic from Aziraphale, but he’s better at it than the angel ever was. He hardly cheats physical reality at all. The kids love it.

-When the fire department finally gives them the clearance to go back inside, Adam’s stomach rumbles. “Is anyone else hungry?,” he asks, to a chorus of agreement. It’s too late for any nearby takeout, but Jesus chats with their neighbors about options.

-Jesus enlists Adam’s help in going from flat to flat gathering ingredients from everyone, and before long they’re serving fish tacos and grilled cheese sandwiches to a small crowd of pajama-clad people. It’s 2 am, but everyone is smiling, or at least has contentment at the edge of their yawns.

-The next day, Mrs. Kapoor brings Adam and Jesus a spider plant cutting, because she thought their flat looked too bare. Adam texts a picture of it to Crowley and receives back lengthy instructions on watering, pot size, soil, and the most effective threats for the species.

-Five months later, the local planning council has an intense debate about why crime rates in one neighborhood have dropped by 75% since their last meeting. They each try to claim credit for their pet civic projects. Actually, it’s because Adam Young has started to love London, or at least his nook of it.

-Buskers soon realize that certain tube stops are generating far more tips than they ever have before, with no obvious demographic shift accounting for the change. The common ground is that these are the stops on Adam’s commutes to work and his activist meetings. He can only occasionally spare a tip himself, but his enjoyment of the music is contagious.

-Even after the breakthrough, not every day is good. On a late summer day that just happens to be the anniversary of the day the world didn’t end, Adam comes home from a protest fuming.

-“Dude, you okay?” asks Jesus, looking up from his guitar. (Jesus sometimes goes to protests with Adam, but not usually the ones where they’re planning on breaking laws. “I’m a brown-skinned foreigner, man. Do you think I’ll get away with what you get away with? I’m not ready for that yet,” he says, and Adam can’t argue.)

-“The media barely showed up at our event, probably because it was about a million degrees and even though that’s exactly what we’re protesting, nobody wants to be out in it. Six of our people passed out from the heat and three got arrested. They still didn’t arrest me, but I got pushed over and cracked my phone screen. On my way home, some drunk on the tube vomited on my shoes. Our green jobs bill still doesn’t have the votes in Parliament, and have you seen the latest news on the Antarctic ice sheets?” Adam kicks off his shoes, then collapses dramatically onto the futon and groans.

-“Sounds rough,” says Jesus.

-“I should’ve just ended the damn world when I was eleven and I had the chance. Would’ve been quicker,” Adam mutters.

-Jesus gets up and goes to the kitchen. He brings Adam a beer. “You don’t mean that, bro,” he says.

-Adam sighs, accepting the beer. “I suppose not.”

-He drinks his beer. Dog, now grey-muzzled and slow, shuffles over to curl up at his feet. Adam pulls out his phone, which is cracked but still seems functional. He’s got a text from Aziraphale.

-“Dear Adam,” the text begins, because Aziraphale might have finally deigned to learn to text but he steadfastly refused to adopt its stylistic conventions, “I hope that you have returned safely from today’s protest. I’m very proud of your continuing efforts, and though he won’t admit it I know that Crowley feels the same. Please write back at your earliest convenience. Fondly, Aziraphale”

-Adam texts back to reassure the angel, who will doubtless pass it on to Crowley, then he texts similar reassurances to his parents and to Mrs. Kapoor upstairs. He’s still figuring out this adulthood thing, but he’s got a lot of parental figures looking out for him. His Infernal Bio-Dad isn’t one of them, and that’s the way Adam likes it.

-Through the open window comes the sound of music blasting from a car stuck in traffic below. Freddie Mercury and David Bowie are singing:

And love dares you to care for the people on the edge of the night, And love dares you to change our way of caring about ourselves.

-He turned down the chance to rule the world, and he’d make the same choice again, but he still feels a certain proprietary responsibility towards the planet and its inhabitants. His father—his real, earthly father—didn’t raise him to shirk responsibility, and he’s not one to cave under pressure.

-Life is hard, people are mostly idiots, and the world is coming apart at the seams, but it’s his messed up life and his idiotic people and his beautiful, half-broken world.

#good omens #adam young #good omens headcanons #fanfic #post-canon #please excuse any errors and americanisms #long post #tardis-stowaway's writing & stuff

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heyyylittlemo · 4 years

Text

Ask game

1. Where did you hide the body??

Me: *pause* No, where did you hide the body—

*police stare at me with disbelief*

Me: there’s no—there’s not a single body here—well stop looking at me like that, you’re the cop! You should know! Why are you asking me for! Body? Whaaaaaat. Ahaha.

*cops shake head*

*whispers to my friend* Guys I think I pulled that one off

Police: you know we can hear everything you’re saying

me: 👁👄👁

2. Favorite rock? The 1975. Dominic Fike. Arctic Monkeys. Bad Suns. The killers. Pale Waves. Etc. That good good shit 👌

3. Most aesthetic season? Fall. Love them orange colors. The leaves falling. Though spring is also neat if you have a bunch of flowers bloomin in shit and winter is only aesthetic when it’s snowing. Boring ass summer tho just be heating me up.

4. When texting do u shorten words or spell out? I used to write stuff out all the time mostly but now it’s like half and half bcuz its just faster and nobody got time for it 🤣🤣

5. Vintage stuff? Hell yeah, but maybe not anything too expensive since some old stuff IS hyper expensive.

6. Colors that pop or blend? Not sure I understand what u mean abt them blending ahaha u mean like when they’re so similar to another?? Well I think it’s nice but honestly I prefer a pop and a bang, y’Know?

- At this moment I realized I was answering the last few questions from a completely different ask and felt like a dumbass 😂 anyways the actual number we’re on is three so imma just kickback

3. Worst dream u have ever had? I had sleep paralysis but was imbetween that and a lucid dream. At first I was paralyzed and could see my bed but my eyes felt closed and open at the same time?? A giant dark demon looking dog had towered over me and began to tear at my neck. It looked and felt very real I started to try to scream and it felt like a scream was coming out but no sound exited. Then I went into a lucid dream where I was being chased by this dog and running for my life I was running by and nobody could save me nobody in the dream when it caught up to me I was back in my bed and it was trying to eat me again. I was so terrified I couldn’t sleep for a whole week.

4. Lyric that comes to your mind? “And I don’t think I can be there. I’m paralyzed,I’m terrified of being alone. When you said I deserved what had happened.”

5. Blood make u uncomfortable? Yes, I passed out once when getting my finger pricked and a VERY small blood sample and another when dissecting a fish.

6. Even or odd numbers? Well I like the number 5,7,9, 3 so odd. (Like me 🤣🤣)

7. Something I hate that I love? Anything I’ve ever loved becuz love can be frustrating. Bruh.

8. 1st initial of someone I hate? Hmm...do I hate someone tho? Not that I can think of...

9. *Skipping down the lane* NOPE

10. Corn dogs? It’s funny cuz when I think of corn dogs my mind will always go to when we first moved to our current house because at our initial town we never had Sonic and while we were getting the house fixed up and moving stuff we use to always get Sonic since it was the closest to us most times to eat and that was a bunch of corn dogs and hotdog days 🤣 so thnk u corn dogs for ur service

11. I’m not a huge movie person so...I looked up movies from 2005 and movies Inlike from this time are Brokeback mountain bcuz it’s gay af, Shark Boy and Lava Girl damn I rewatched the shot out of it when I was younger, Narnia and the Chocolate Factory(although it low key creeped me out as a kid, and idk why).

12. Least fav music genre? Most country, most EDM, dubstep, screaming/really hard rock, some pop music, mumble raping.

13. As someone who waits on tables, my job is my least favorite restaurant experience 🤣🤣 just dealing with ppl...like ok, I’m half Hispanic right?? But I look white. Well, I work at a Mexican restaurant and so sometimes racist costumers will say shady shit just bcuz I guess they think it’s appropriate to say it to me just bcuz I’m not Hispanic in their eyes?? But it pisses me off and I feel like I can’t say anything without causing a drama which I hate and when the “costumers always right” it can be hard to budge and stand up and say “bitch wtf did u just say??” And there’s just folks who take things the wrong ways or ask too much at once or give u a hard time or just say something that sticks onto you for the whole day. One bad move can turn my whole day upside down.

14. 3 things never come near me? Cockroaches, Needles, and close mind ppl

15. Worst way to die? With regrets. Something really brutual, random, or where something just happened to go wrong (accident). Being killed by someone u love.

16. Unusual habits? Doing a Michael Jackson esque “hee-hee” after every sneeze I make, being extremely clumsy and making every task 100% more difficult, having the ability to talk as if I have an accent that comes from nowhere in particular just stupidity also I can’t speak my own language half the time 🙃getting words confused or misusing them in a sentence so I sound dumb having a very weird imagination and thoughts, I swear it like I never went to school and don’t know how the world works, plus many many more

17. Clothing style u want? I want to dress in a way that screams who I am and is a blend of both femininity and masculinity. A little vintage. Grunge. Urban maybe?? What do I know abt fashion 🤣🤣

18. Song or artist that deserves more? Dijon, hands down. I love his stuff. He’s like Frank Ocean meets light-singing beautiful lyricist with a more rock vibe?? Hidden gem. I also think Durand Jones & the Indications needs more love along with BadBadNotGood they sound like old-times but are new!! Oh, and Pale Waves is like a female The 1975 and kicks it. Bad Suns is a good alt rock band that no one seems to recognize :,D Toro y Moi too! His song with Flume “The difference “ is a banger!! Kid Cudi is my man when I want a blend of rock and rap. Also Dominic Fike,King Krule, and Roy Blair, who are all amazing!! Ok I need to stop 🛑

Duck I answered the past questions from a different post I’m sorry 😐

17. Emoji never used? There’s a bunch since I reuse the same over and over again. Lmao

18. 3 sentence Gatorade horror story? A faint quiver overtook the small freezer the Gatorade lay in; no one had come by in days, hours, weeks; when was the last time he met the lips of a thirsty body? They’d forgotten about him, as his last sips remained glued to his hollowing entrance. ‘Help, ‘it wanted to say, but it’s frozen lips could not be moved; It’d stay here, die here...just like the rest.” What am I doing with my life 🤣🙏

19. Do u know what an old bay is? A bay that is old? And old ocean? Idk!!!

20. Can u dance? Sometimes I dance when I’m alone but nothing spectral lol

21. What first comes to ur mind when u see ropes? 2 extremes. Sex and death. Hm. Ok. Moving on.

22. Make an obscure reference. “Even a bra couldn’t hold these nipples” *Holds a water gun to chest*

23. Fav balloon color? Pink or yellow.

24. If u were in court would u be innocent or guilty? Depends, what am I in court for 🤣 lmao jk honestly idk bcuz I don’t think I’d wind up in there

25. Are u hungry ? Nope

26. Unlucky number? Hm I don’t think so but I have a lucky number “123”

27. What’s “JMD”stand for? I’m guessing...Jamming my d—- 💀lol jk ahaha why am so dirt

28. Random inside joke? *chirpy squeak* I’m making a double batch of cookies

29. What sends chills up ur spine? Seeing disgust food or smell disgust or talking abt disgust things like gore

30. How many questions are in ur inbox? A pathetic zero ahaha no one want to ask me anything 😂

31. Someone real who scares u. 2 of my ex friends. One when I was 10 said disturbing things and I was kinda forced onto the friendship and everything they said make me fear for others lives...and then a different ex friend who seemed normal at 1st but became both low key psychopath cult leader type stuff and I booed out of there—-.

32. Run or hide? Uhh probably hide because I’d say even if ppl say “u can run but u can’t hide” u CAN just hide! that’s the point of hiding they not find u xD also why not combine them? Hide then run somewhere far away once I got them off the trial.

33. Last person who made u angry? A frickin beetle that flew at me and pinched me in the middle of singing in the shed xD also my autocorrect

34. What’s going on in ur head? I should probably pee soon—

35. Little thing that makes u Smile? A lot of little things bruh.

36. Are u a descisive person?

Not sure.

*pAuse *

Ok, I guess I’m not then 🤣

37. Would ppl say I’m paranoid? Hm maybe about certain things social situations, singing in front of others what ppl think abt me etc etc

38. Store least likely in? Any southern clothes shop, Abercrombie & Finch types shit, lol

39. Do I like hats fave type? Hm not wear many hats but I think they’re cool any type is cool for different ppl and their aesthetici just can’t rock a hat.

40. Bow ties or ties? Don’t really care but now want to see more bow ties

41. Who? You.

42. What? Reading this shit

43. Where? In ur ass

44. When? Now.

45. Why? Not even u know why.

46. How? We all want to know

47. Do u collect anything? Vinyl records.

48. What tome is it? Time to get a watch

49. Fav transportation? My car or walk is possible

50. Would u ever kill someone to save someone? Don’t want to think about that

51. Make a joke. Yo, it’s time to make a joke—so the other day I was working. And I was practicing my Spanish, yes? Anyone whose trying to learn anew language k n o w s that sometimes words can be so close to another u just confuse then! So apparently churros in Spanish is a desert but if u say it more harshly (it literally sounds almost the same) it makes a whole different meaning—diharrea, but like I didn’t know that so I legit just walked up to this person and asked if they would like some shit to eat. So yeah, that was great. Let’s not forget that I mixed up blood, watermelon, and sangria which is a wine. I legit once said I had mixed wine in my vines and another time watermelon 🤣

52. I’m really confused so I skip

53. Would ur dash be confiscated SFW? By dash do u mean this account? Um not 😬

54. Do I like to cuddle? Hell yeah and manhandle ppl all the time it’s my affection

55. What makes u angry? Close minded ppl or ppl who jump too fast to conclusions, strict schedules just dumb stuff that people try to force when I just want to be carefree 😭✌️

56. How many voices are in ur head? 😐

57. Do U consider urself mentally stable? 😐

58. Are u easily offended? Well U just called me mentally unstable and asked it there was voices in my head!!

59. What’s wrong with taking the backstreets? Uhm...

60. Any questions u want ppl to ask u? Nothing in particular but it’s be nice if someone care to ask me something abt me from personal question to my opinions on shit to 19 days fandom related junk 😌

Woooo I’ve finished this game! Thanks to @seiji-amasawa for introducing me to this ^^

#tag game #game #ask #19 days #19days

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twins-parted · 4 years

Text

Just going to talk about reflecting through the last month about pride & who I am at this point in the game, vs. who I thought I was ... because honestly, idk who the fuck am I anymore ???

Tw: OOC Alcohol Use Mention, CSA Mention, Mental Illness Mentions.

I have never explained this story in full to anyone outside of my cousin, a therapist & my husband, but I’ve made very good friends here that I feel comfortable sharing this information with & So I’m just gonna try to have an open discussion here too:

I am honestly, so confused about myself & as someone with severe OCD, ( stemming from PTSD ), ... who needs labels to feel like I am still in control of myself, I’m not sure what to think anymore & It’s messing with me pretty hard at this moment.

So, I knew I wasn’t completely straight at the age of seven or eight - and it didn’t help that I was being ‘ abused ‘ by a male within my family. I just didn’t like men at all, even before the shit that went down ... but, especially not after. I constantly felt - and occasionally still feel - scared & unclean if I have to be alone with dudes 1 on 1, that I don’t know for extended periods of time. That’s where the PTSD comes in.

( It’s important to note: I have always primarily felt attraction to other women aesthetically, romantically & sexually. As long as I can remember, even before I could put it into words. This is the part that gets sorta confusing later. )

In middle school I had come to terms with the idea I just didn’t have an interest in guys, and while my family had sorta gathered that much, I didn’t project that at school because I was afraid of being singled out for being different. ( Not that I had an interest in any of the people around me, but I also didn’t want any of my peers to feel uncomfortable around me either. )

By high school, I recognized that while aesthetically I liked the idea of certain boys in my classes - I wasn’t interested in them in romantic or, um - - - horndoggy ways. They were merely a pawn to get me to the top of the high school popularity chain. ( Was it a shitty mindset to hold ? Hell yes ! I understand that was a terrible reason to like them ... was I a stupid kid ?! ALSO YES. Please cut me some slack, I would never condone that shit past the age of 16. Rest assured, I’m not this person anymore. ) I mean, I just hated being a nobody.

I was also more open about who I was as a person, to my best friends (2). So, you can all imagine the surprise I felt when me and Harley clicked. I had never in a million years envisioned myself feeling genuine romantic feelings toward a guy. I just ... it wasn’t supposed to be in the cards. I hadn’t ever held romantic or sexual interest in them, not seriously anyway. Yet, here he was ... kind & soft & caring & open-minded, but opinionated. He was not the epitome of the classic southern redneck as the other guys in my classes were raised to be. I hadn’t met a guy like him before.

That was refreshing, but scary to me.

( I’m going to be very honest here: outside of fictional men or celebrities I’d never stand a chance with ... I really didn’t give guys a second thought at all. Until Harley. He was everything I needed in a partner & he still is. )

Eventually, we started dating and at about three years in, at a college dorm party - I finally got super drunk & the entire weird history of my sexuality came out.

I want to be clear, I didn’t ever want him to feel like I was trying to hide it. That’s not how functional relationships were supposed to work & I didn’t want it thrown in my face later if he found out, you know, not from me. And he understood, and accepted that & admitted he also was not 100% hetero either & while that was reassuring - it has also ( to this day ) put me in the position of always worrying that he thinks I won’t be faithful or that I didn’t really love him and I need a coverup. I recognize those are all stupid fucking fears to have after being together almost 10 years now, but I have so much anxiety I can’t articulate about this that I feel sick when it is mentioned.

( Again, I voice this fear & he promises he doesn’t feel that way & I know he isn’t lying about that because he’s very open, honest & sincere. )

I just ... it’s weird knowing if anything happened to him, or if we had to go our separate ways: I would never feel honest romantic / sexual attraction to a man again.

I don’t like feeling like I don’t know what I am, or who I am, or that it’s too complicated to bother defining.

Maybe I just don’t belong in the LGBTQA+ community anymore ??

It just feels like pansexual isn’t the label for me ... but I don’t know. Maybe i’m overanalyzing things, but it felt wrong for me to participate in pride this year. Like I wasn’t allowed. I don’t know.

I dunno, I just killed a bottle of Irish whiskey because it’s been weighing heavy on me & I needed to voice it. If this doesn’t make sense, sorry. I’ll be deleting this in the morning anyway out of embarrassment probably, but I had to get it off my chest and sorta into words so it would stop fucking with me.

It just feels like a disservice to myself & you guys not to be honest about this when it has affected my mood for a month or so now & I’m pretty sure most of you could tell somethings been up.

#TBD #• Consider My Existence A Never - Ending ' BRUH ' Moment. • ( OOC. )

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howtolistentomusic · 4 years

Photo

There's a radio sitting atop a pile of boxes. I grab it and hand it over to Carlos. He sets the device on the edge of the container and pushes the power button. We're greeted with a burst of static. He fiddles with the tuner until he stumbles upon "Wicked" by Future.

"Aw yeah!" he says as he turns the volume way up. "Some real music! Anthony, take notes!"

"I'm insulted by the implication that I don't listen to hip-hop."

"You bump 2Pac between Justin Bieber songs?" David says.

"Hell yeah I do!"

"Guacha!" David says.

Pronounced as if a stressed "ah" sound is added at the end of the English word watch, guacha is a Spanish verb for "look." Informally, though, it means something more like I approve! It's typically complimentary though it often carries a connotation of surprise that can come off as condescending. Against all odds, David basically said to me, I'm impressed. Welcome to the big boys club.

"2Pac is the greatest rapper of all time," Carlos says.

"Well, I don't know about that."

Don't get me wrong. I genuinely do like 2Pac. I grew up in Southern California, after all. But the GOAT? There's no way. He's a compelling figure for many reasons but too many others can rap circles around him.

"Listen to All Eyez On Me," Carlos says.

"Illmatic is better."

"What the fuck is that?"

It's the classic and hugely influential debut album by Nas, in case you're rooming with Carlos and Patrick Star.

"Life's a bitch and then you die!" Ruben sings.

"That's why we get high! 'Cause you never know when you're gonna go!"

"Damn, Ant!" David says. "Who would have thought?"

It's unclear whether he recognizes "Life's a Bitch", Illmatic's track three stunner, or if he's simply surprised that I made a weed reference.

"What else are you bumping?" David asks.

"Wu-Tang. Souls of Mischief. Big L—"

"The Based God?" Carlos says. "He fucking sucks!"

"That's Lil B, dumbass."

Dude doesn't know Big L from Lil B and he's never heard Illmatic. And yet here he is, trying to lecture me about hip-hop. Get the fuck out of here.

"Whatever. You're fucking old," Carlos says.

Touché. But I'm trying to keep up. I'm certainly on the Playboi Carti and Lil Uzi Vert bandwagons. "wokeuplikethis*" and "XO Tour Lif3" are great. I have a hard time understanding the appeal of Migos though.

Carlos grabs some bags from the edge of the container. When he turns to dump them into the proper gaylords, I glance at the radio. It's beckoning like a glowing pickup in a video game. I can't resist. Being cool is overrated anyways.

I tune to Live 105.5. "Good For You" by Selena Gomez is playing.

"Hell yes!" I say.

My coworkers laugh.

"Of course you would listen to this bullshit!" Carlos says.

Bullshit? Ok, I get it. So it's totally cool to want to fuck Selena Gomez. It's totally cool to mime and graphically detail the sexual acts you'd perform on her if given the chance, as a few of the guys did a while back when a Spring Breakers DVD came through the warehouse. Respecting the art she creates, though? Nah. Too much.

"Wanna show you how proud I am to be yours," I sing. "Leave this dress a mess on the floor!"

Two yeas ago one of my favorite music writers, Katherine St. Asaph, wrote some brilliant work inspired by "Good for You". Her Singles Jukebox blurb, in which she rates the song a 9 out of 10, is a masterpiece. And in a review of Revival for Time Magazine, she vividly wrote that the song "makes looking good for her man sound like searing a part of herself dead." Despite such a convincing case for the song's merits, however, I can't bring myself to like "Good For You" all that much. It's boring and rote and I totally prefer "Hands to Myself". In a place like this, though, I'll fucking take it. After all, remaining myself while simultaneously playing "dude" well enough to avoid ostracization by my coworkers is a balance I struggle with every time I step foot into this warehouse, so it feels really good to fill the room with a piece of my world for once while these fuckers are forced to deal with it.

"I just wanna look good for ya, good for ya," I sing. "Uh huh."

"Alright," Carlos says as the song winds down. "It's over."

He tunes the radio back to hip-hop just as Anna screams "Break!"

"Fuck," Carlos says as he turns off the device. ***

As usual, I beat the entire crew back to the dock. I hop into the container, turn on the radio and adjust the station.

"Reck a less bee hayve YA ah!" the radio pronounces.

Zayn Malick! Totally over One Direction, rhyming.

"Turn that shit up!" Donald says as the guys finally find their way back to roll-off. "This is my jam!"

"Let's start a boy band, Donald!" I say.

"I'm down!"

David laughs. Carlos shakes his head.

"I'm seeing the pain, seeing the pleasure," Donald sings. He's not kidding; he genuinely seems to like this song. "Nobody but you, 'body but me, 'body but us, bodies together!"

While I'm thrilled to have a temporary companion in poptimism, I must point out that this song sucks. I wish I could play "Little Black Dress" instead. I wonder what the guys would think of that particular track, which pits a traditional dude's reverence for classic rock against his hatred of boy bands.

"That's your last one," Carlos says as "Pillowtalk" gives way to a commercial.

He tunes back to the hip-hop station. "Hold On, We're Going Home" is playing and I have to stifle a laugh. Be careful what you wish for, I think to myself.

Carlos can't stand Drake. He's told me as much. He's a fucking pussy were his exact words. Of course, he'd be loath to admit that now, when control of the radio is at stake. I decide to stoke the fire.

"'Cause you're a good girl and you know it!'" I sing.

"Why do you like literally the worst shit?" Carlos says.

"I can change the station if you prefer," I say as I reach for the radio.

"Leave it!" he says.

"Yes, daddy!"

As soon as he turns his back, I tune back to pop. Mass groaning ensues as Shawn Mendes goes on about stitches. Carlos, however, is silent. He's standing still as a statue, staring me down.

***

If the warehouse gave out game balls at the end of each shift, Carlos would have more than the rest of roll-off combined. This is despite the fact that the dude is hardly physically intimidating. Indeed, the contrast between his tough guy persona and his tiny 5"2' frame is a gift that keeps on giving. One time, in an exercise designed to lighten the mood after a slog of a safety meeting, management made the entire staff of the warehouse line up on the floor of the line, single-file, tallest on the right and shortest on the left. There were approximately 30 people in the building and only a single woman was standing to the left of Carlos. It took the roll-off team hours to get all the laughter out of our system.

Carlos isn't particularly funny or clever either. While his insults come fast and furiously, they tend to be the predictable nonsense you would expect from someone that still considers "gay" a burn in the year of our Lord 2017. It's the same sort of mockery I've been dealing with my whole life. The words themselves don't really bother me.

But Carlos will wear you down through sheer attrition. His short fuse, gangbanger ethics and the fact that he values his pride over his job give him a willingness to escalate that's difficult to compete with. I once witnessed him empty an entire can of shaving cream onto the face of poor old man Kenneth. He also once swung a bag of hard toys, with all his might, at Donald after the two got into a heated argument. Then there was the time he was in a bad mood and discreetly coated some furniture with that aerosol "snow" stuff—the kind that people use on their windows as a Christmas decoration—in the hopes that some naive rube would ruin their clothes.

So I'm not sure what Naive Rube was thinking in perpetuating this tug-of-war over a stupid radio. Perhaps I felt like I deserved a fucking break. Roll-off already has a radio, after all. Sure, Anna controls the station. But everyone seems fine enough, usually, with the soul and R&B she prefers.

In any case, I'm not in the mood for Carlos' shit today.

***

I place a box of books at the edge of the container, right in front of Carlos.

"Are you just gong to stand there?" I ask.

"Give back the radio, you fucking pussy!" Carlos says. "Nobody wants to hear this pop shit!"

I know, dumbass. That's why this is so much fun.

"Give it back!" he repeats. He swipes for the radio but I grab it and place it out of his reach.

Carlos slices a bag of clothes with his pocketknife.

"I'm going to fuck you up!" he says. "Stupid little bitch! I'm going to fuck you up!"

"Cool story, bro."

"Are you really not gong to give it back?"

I laugh. Look, this entire thing is petty as fuck but the dude's entitlement really is something else.

"Give it back simply because you told me to? I'll pass but thanks."

"I'm going to give you one last chance," he says.

"Oh noes! Make sure you play some Justin Bieber at my funeral."

Carlos is fucking seething. He pulls the still-as-a-statue move again in an attempt to intimidate but roll-off simply functions around him. Nobody else seems to care much about the radio war and that's fine by me. When Carlos finally realizes that his protest isn't going to work, he grabs the box of books and gets back to business. Apollo for the win!

As an alternative kid with a preference for dark clothing and bulky accessories, the sun has long been the bane of my existence. This is especially true as I age, as one of the ways I temper insecurities about my ever-expanding waistline is by burying myself in layers. Today, however, the sun is an unlikely ally in my ongoing struggle against Carlos. It's 100 degrees out, see, and when it's this hot outside the container becomes almost unbearable, the metal walls stubbornly retaining the heat in a way that feels like you're working in a giant oven.

Pushing donations from inside the container is typically a two-person task but nobody else is up for it today. And the emptier it becomes, the safer I seem to be getting from Carlos' antagonism as I place the radio further and further from his reach. For a glorious hour I have the device all to myself. Ariana Grande! Lady Gaga! Hailee Steinfeld! Rihanna! I'm singing along, dancing like a maniac, and feeling pretty damn good. Then I hear a loud crash.

I turn around. Carlos is standing at the foot of the container, a crate of dishes in front of him.

I've seen this before. God forbid there's glass around when Carlos is angry because he'll start chucking it, his aim loose enough for probable deniability but accurate enough to make life hell.

He grabs a plate and throws it my way. It shatters near my feet.

"Calm the fuck down!" I say.

"Give me the radio."

"Come and get it.

Carlos hops into the container. Fuck. Here we go.

Of course, he's not grabbing anything without going through me first. It's too damn empty in here. I step towards him to obstruct his path. We meet in the middle of the container. Our faces are inches apart.

One, Mississippi. Two, Mississippi. Three, Mississippi. Four, Mississippi. Five, Mississippi. Six—

"Fuck this gay ass music," he finally says. Then he turns and walks away. *** A short time later we finish unloading the container. Two hours remain in the workshift but supervisor Stella tells us that we won't be getting more trucks until tomorrow. She assigns the guys to other tasks in the building while I stay behind on the dock to tidy up.

For good measure, I empty the batteries from the radio and throw them in a bin designated for hazardous materials. Then I smash the radio on the floor, throw the pieces in the electronics gaylord, then pull it inside the warehouse.

Give me my damn game ball.

#minwagepop

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onbeatbot · 4 years

Text

Injury

The Palma residence is my favorite aspect of summer. In the lonely heat of southern Arizona, it is easy to lose yourself to time. This is especially true if you are a transplant, which I am, one who resides in the 14th ward of Oimech (budget housing) in a studio unit of one of about 50 closely packed tenement towers that stretch into the clouds, all identical, each just topping 2000 feet. So, you can imagine the appeal of the tiny, white, one story house, which is nestled with 20 or 30 other 30’s style cuboid residences on the western edge of Oimech’s bustling business district.

The 200 mile trip here from home means a daunting 60 minute subway commute, but babysitting is the only work I have between April and July, so I make it over by 5:45 every Tuesday when Ms. Chu leaves for her weekly yoga class. She will be back at exactly 8:10. Ms. Chu is a single mother nearing 50, and a neurotic homebody, but she has a strange, commanding poise. Her kids, Mono and Callie, are surprisingly well-adjusted, but do not meet the mirroring standards of the Arizona public school system. Both of them have rapidly filled each inch of intellectual growing room from the moment of conception, and so have surpassed or failed to reach this and that developmental benchmark that would have allowed them to join their respective age groups in Standard Learning. I love Mono and Callie, if not for their energy, for the unique characteristics that set them apart from the other children I watch as a licensed caretaker, and from the students I meet as a math tutor during the school season. And, of course, their house.

A block from their street, I press the stop button on my armrest and exit the subway car, pushing past the waiting area and up the stairs into the dry air. Rounding the corner of their grey street, I instinctively look at the right side window of the house, where I meet Callie’s eyes, causing her to jump away. She opens the front door, calling my name, “Rebecca!” I hustle to meet her with a hug.

“Where’s little Mono?”

She smiles, “Aw, he’s still sleeping.”

“At this hour?” I reply with mock surprise, but Callie is already bored of the exchange, and has run to lay on her back in front of the TV, which is playing Nat Geo on mute. Ms. Chu exits her bedroom, one of two in the 2BR/1BA, and embraces me. “I’ll be back shortly, Rebecca,” she is always visibly glad to see me, “Callie has big plans for you this evening. I know you two will have a good time.” She gets her phone from the kitchen counter and with a warm, pointed glare at Callie, then me, she nods and departs.

I sit on the white sofa and put my feet on top of Callie as if she were an ottoman. She doesn’t move, but tells the TV to turn the volume on low. On the screen divers are swimming slowly near a bleached stretch of coral reef. The narrator is explaining that a certain species of shark inhabits this area, and the divers aim to tag them because their population is greatly depleted, threatened by pollution. Callie begins to fidget, pulling and twisting her short brown hair. She is a restless 7 year old. She is afraid to go outdoors, and so is very pale. This used to worry me, but I gave up those thoughts because I am not her Mother. That took some time.

When the commercials come on, Callie silences the TV and I stand up to check on Mono. Their bedroom is at the end of a white hallway to the left of the living area. Everything in the house is white. Somehow the sparse, modern decor augments the comfort of the small home. It is hard for me to wrap my head around. I crack the door, and see that Mono is buried and unmoving on his twin sized pallet beneath a pile of comforters and throw blankets. “How long has he been out?” I ask Callie, loudly.

“Since about 9AM.”

“Goodness.”

“Yeah,” she walks up behind me, “and he finished the Cheerios.”

“I can’t say that surprises me,” he only eats Cheerios.

Callie spins me around by my waist so that I’m facing her. “Rebecca,” she says to me with a blank expression, “We have to bake a cake.”

That is just fine with me, “OK. Do you have cake mix?”

“We’re making it from scratch,” she replies, “the only thing we are missing is salted butter.”

“And Cheerios.”

She smiles, “Yes. And Cheerios.”

There is an auto supermarket right around the corner, a large, bright green box with a cashier’s window and a pickup station. You have to order everything you need before you get there, as machinery inside sorts through thousands of items, rapidly picking out items on your list, and the list after yours, and the list after that. I sometimes wonder what it looks like inside an auto supermarket. Very few people make contact with the guts of automated businesses and services, as repairs are ordered and executed by robotic equipment that’s all included on the inside. It would probably be anticlimactic to peek at the inside. It is most likely grey upon grey, like most things in the city.

I toss Callie my phone so she can place our order. “Pay cash?” she asks.

“You know it.” Very few people keep physical money around. I myself certainly do not, but I enjoy interacting with cashiers, and so keep my card handy.

I head out; it is only about a 15 minute walk round trip. The wide sidewalks and seamless streets do not present a single soul other than myself. The sun is setting, and the sky is painted with purple and peachy hues. I arrive at the green wall, and step cheerfully to the cashier’s window. She is in her early 20’s, about my age. She is an expressionless type, which is a let down, though I understand. She scans my card, “You know nobody really carries their card with them,” she says as she returns it to me. “Yes.” I don’t know what else to say. She hands me a paper bag, and I walk, less leisurely, back to the Palma’s.

Callie is not at the window when I approach the house. This is off, as I know she would be done preparing the dry ingredients by now. My heartbeat quickens and I knock on the door with five hard raps. Thirty seconds pass without a sound, and I dig my phone from my pocket to pull up my key. I step in and call Callie’s name. I walk to the kitchen in the back of the room to see the ingredients set out neatly, as I expected. “Callie?” I call again, throwing the grocery bag on the counter. The oven is preheated. Something feels very wrong.

I rush to the kid’s bedroom to find it just as it had been. I knock on the bathroom door and open it without waiting for a response. To my great relief, Callie is sitting on the floor surrounded by what looks like Band-Aid wrappers.

“What the hell, Callie.”

She looks at me, slightly wounded, “I said I’m in here,” she wrinkles her nose for a second, “Sorry.” Taking a deep breath, I survey the bathroom.

“It’s OK, you just scared me,” there isn’t a drop of blood to be seen, “What happened?”

“It was the weirdest thing!” Her tone brightens, “As I was measuring the flour, a yellow jacket flew out of the bag and stung me,” she presents me her arm, which sports an asterisk of at least 6 Band-Aids arranged over the same spot.

“Ah,” I choke back laughter, “I see.”

“How was your trip?” She asks me, picking up the trash from the floor.

“Just fine. Got everything we need.”

It is now 6:45. I help Callie to her feet and we return to the kitchen.

#story story #creative writing #future #dystopia #robots

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jarel-dot-thepoet · 5 years

Text

Excuse the typos Character Asks

Character Asks

Choose a character and a question

Characters:

Indy - sorrowful, wealthy writer

Sage - chipper, eccentric barista

Nova - mischievous, astute activist

Charleut - intelligent, sharp lawyer

Claud - sly, wise police officer

Neal - silent, spontaneous movie director

Lora - sassy, correctional actress

Gray - informational, caring talent agent

Gemini - quirky, strong pet store manager

Havin - easy going, comical interior designer

Gwen - shy, analytical banker

Patches - innocent, wild real estate agent

Doc - practical, blunt attorney

Harry - self-absorbed, glutton realtor

Loa - logical, stringent automotive engineer

Chief - philosophical, misunderstood politician

Jack - gentle, follower gardener

Deuce - mysterious, leader chemist

Roy - lying, nerdy bandmate

Olivia - serving, fiery housemaid

Consuela - altruistic firm casino co-owner

Constance - powerful, creepy casino co-owner

Joy - perky, pragmatic talent agent

Mrs. Feathersby - grandmotherly, assertive cafe owner

Dr. Whyte - optimistic, spiritual surgeon

Jensen - passive, generous nurse

Angeliica - feminist, tactical nurse

Stone - unexpected, remorseless police officer

Atticus - conversationalist, innocent bartender

Admiral - disciplined, sexually busy retired veteran

Mr. Peru - soundful, pacifist butler

Daz - impervious,

Fighting urges horned up searching for meaning feeling breathing living God please forgive these flesh feelings keep dealing me a strain in my pants my brain likes to dance I feel afraid sometimes without Lord I pray your Kingdom come evil need be delivered me from i feel bottom of ocean scum always comes with repercussions dumb didally down fiddling these emotions floating to my head crazed dazed in a hazed Hayes estate

Josiah - trustworthy, there landscaper

Doctor Profit - heartless, gassy teacher * Waiting is a new covenant, so wait patiently and you will see the return of Jesus Christ. * The killer of Casanova Hayes * the unexpected english teacher witha bold moustache piercing blue eyes takes brown skin elegant afro hair nice smile a kind voice whispering elegance peaceful harmonies bird talking chest as proud as the cockatoo merciful tattoos of kazoos and coconuts lustful legs that stood high enough to see the tempest shelf in southern creek high water soloist for sure team player and dauntful

Dawn Delaware fifth sister the child Karen Delaware was pregnant when she disappeared that hot day in Australia critic to town if Ostrasizer England smokes cigars piercing red eyes devilish tongue fierce brutality of the hands southpaws swearer of Osvits Germany ta I want to thank you for being my son my Lord my savior my grace mercy My Redeemer what treasure my everything my all amen

George Carl Bigsby - judgmental, prejudice grocery store owner

Z'riya Turner - affable, southern comfort Mexican store owner

Ashlee | Hectic - smarter than you, has to be right confidently beautiful curves radio talk show host producer

Lefwhich Greenfield - destined Turner of the turntables championship Dr. Profits twin cousin cornball hornball

Nessie - grits thrower, angsty photographer

What do you do for a living

Where's your money go most on

Least on

Where do kids come from 5 year old answer

Topic of the day

Wheres your worst kiss from

Best kiss

Who saw you running naked that one day down the street

Is the cat out if the bag secret bonus

Sandwich ir taco

Spaghetti or hamburger

Waffles or pancakes

Listen to music on low listen on high

Destined to live destined to die

Whi gets to watch what they want you or your spouse nobody who wins the argument

Do stacks stack best left to right or right to left

If I were atop a mountain and u wanted you to hold me would you cry ir ask why

If a donkey had a really bad smell but a really great smile would you hug it

Can you kiss an elephant and remember it

What causes reflections looking within or without

Do stalls needto he further apart or many more single bathrooms

West coast hemisphere easy coast hemisphere

If you could live anywhere and why

Rigamortus would you prefer the body seen or sunseen

Truth be told what's your worst secret

Truth be told who do you live the most

Marry me yes or no after three years

Do the stanky leg or the waltz

Fishing or bowling

Dog sitting or cat sitting

Miscues or misshapes

Music or reading

What do you di when you first wake up

Is there anything to wear in here jeams or slacks for gals dresses or pants

Austin texas or Atlanta georgia

Fila or fubu

Red wine or white wine

Questions or answers

Chess or checkers

Pig or cow

People watching or tv watching

Yes person or no person

Balanced or imbalanced

Perfect or flawed

Half full or half empty

Shark or lion

Chicken or egg

Basketball or football

Softball or baseball

Soccer or rugby

Do you stand tall or stand with a hunch

Breathe in breathe out ornbreathe out breathe in

Angry or happy

Sad or content

Joyful or hateful

Peace through war war through peace or peace through peace

Victory or fail

Thumbs up or thumbs down

Do you talk more or listen more

Effortless or thoughtful

Faithful or hardship

Constipation or diarrhea

Jokester or serious

Golf or nascar

Do you believe in ghosts

Do you believe in werewolves

Do you believe in God

Flying ir driving

Stay at family's house for the holidays or at a hotel

Do you walk in with confidence or doubt

Day person or night person

Early to bed early to rise ir stay up late and ahh *stretches* after 12 pm

Wake up with a hangover dude I cant believe we did that or dude I cant believe we did that!

Lefty or righty

Sauce mixed in with the meat or sauce mixed in with the noodles

Bacon cordon bleu or bacon and eggs

Fitzgerald Jones or Fitzgerald Hawkins

What day do you clean your house

Check mail now when you come from home or later

Dinosaurs did they exist

If we could meet a celebrity who would it be

Why them

Where would we go

If we could meet Jesus without dying what would you say to Him

Why

Beach or mountain

Fiasco or calm

Tupac or biggie

Elton John or Michael Bolton

Lois and Clark or lois and clark Kent

venice or Rome

How much would could a woodchuck chuck

If your brothers dad died and your brother was left alone what would you say

Earthquake or sandstorm

Hurricane or fire

Get shot or get stabbed

Art or home economics

Understanding or pigheaded

Left alone or social butterfly

Apples or bananas

#welcome to my world #oc asks #ocs #original character #original characters #character asks #character questions #main character #main characters #character devlopment #writer

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nayakwon · 5 years

Text

Chapter I

JULY 20, 2011

Orange County, Southern California, USA

“If you have gone through this already, you will most certainly recognize each following word: denial, anger, negotiation, depression, acceptance. Although death is the only certainty of all mankind, no one is ever prepared to go through emotional mourning”.

Genre - angst, darkfic, fluff, smut

Warnings - [18+ but y’all know anyone actually respects this shit anymore] none, for the moment. Oh, and english is not my first language. I’m looking for someone to help me to edit the chapters. If u r interested, plz, inbox me.

Words - 2k

She knew that from exactly sixty minutes on, a year would be complete. The girl's brown orbs were almost wide-eyed, fixed on the flashing red points that marked the hours on her digital clock by the bed. Even facing the opposite side, she could feel the look of her twin sister on her back, penetrating her ribs, giving the signal that she was also aware of the approaching date in three thousand six hundred seconds.

If you have gone through this already, you will most certainly recognize each following word: denial, anger, negotiation, depression, acceptance. Although death is the only certainty of all mankind, no one is ever prepared to go through emotional mourning. The intense pain, the feeling of revolt, the deep emptiness. The whole family was aware of all these emotions.

Just over a year ago, Naya Valentini and her family had lost two members of their family tree. Under her precise social perception, her favorite uncle and her younger sister. Matteo Valentini was that uncle that it didn’t matter the situation, he could make every single day better. He was the life of family reunions, and after getting divorced, it felt like he was doing better in life than anyone else in the world. That afternoon, in July 2010, he had taken the triplets Max, Graham and Sophie to the movies. Everyone was excited, talking about the debut of My Favorite Evil. What nobody knew was that when they returned, tragedy awaited them. The white van hit the driver's entire side, including the back.

When her parents arrived at the hospital after being notified, the news that Matteo had died instantly frightened them with the idea of the possible death of their sons hammering in the head. Fortunately, the boys would recover quickly, but Sophie had been rushed to the OR. Naya was not together during the emergency, in fact, she and her other siblings had lagged behind to take care of the new foster child of the family, a newborn.

At home, everything was in chaos, and she remembered the scene altogether, which her brain insisted on displaying in slow motion: Liam trying to make Autie stop screaming that she wanted to have gone along, Ethan almost blowing up the microwave while preparing something to eat. Naya tried to finish helping Devyn in the shower, but the baby's crying deconcentrated her.

With parents away from home and the dread of the idea of younger brothers and uncle being involved in an accident, the four elders were able - with much effort - to bring the heavy mattresses downstairs, where they had decided to spend the night together, with the strategy of getting a better look at the younger ones. It was dawn when her father arrived, finding all the children on the floor of their living room, sleeping, except for Lexi, who still was giving Joey a baby formula. Naya still remembered being awakened, and how her father had tried to be as gentle as he could be when telling that Uncle Matt and Sophie had died.

"I can’t sleep either." She heard her sister's voice over her shoulder.

And in that simple sentence, it was possible to feel the weight. They both knew how difficult it had been for the whole family, especially the matriarch, who had lost her ground altogether. The situation was ten times worse when Moon entered the fourth and more difficult stage of mourning: depression. They knew that, like everyone else, she was struggling to move on, however, every time she looked at the newborn, the image of Sophie in her arms for the first time came back in flashes. Her father had suffered two losses at one time - his daughter and his older brother. The mornings in the kitchen, once livened up by the children's conversations, suddenly became quieter. The children's mother had just recovered from the last phase, acceptance, and the one-year anniversary had already arrived.

"What do you think will happen today?" Lexi asked, but the silence was the only answer. "I just hope mom doesn’t freak out”.

Naya turned to her twin sister's side, pulling the blanket close to her face, realizing for the first time that night that they were both in the same position.

“She will not. She is a force of nature.” And there was definitely a very strong degree of precision in Naya's response. Her mother really was a very inspiring woman, beginning with her life story. Moon never had any kind of contact with her biological father, the only thing she knew was that he was part of USFK, the American Forces of Korea. After a one-night stand, her mother returned to Busan, where Moon was born and eventually, they moved to the United States only because her mother was deluded with life in a foreign country and the hope of marrying the father of her daughter. They didn’t find him and both spent some time in a homeless shelter. Moon was the one who decided to go to school and learn as much English as she could, teaching her mother on her free time after her first job. She ended up in college and became pregnant at a young age, resulting on a marriage with her boyfriend. Still studying, even if it was a distance program, as her children were born, she never for a second of her life gave up the dream of creating her own line of cosmetics. She started from the bottom, reselling some products in Beaufort, deciding to move to Los Angeles to finally open her store and put into practice what she had learned with a chemistry degree.

Nowadays, Moon had two stores in Southern California, and she did her best every day, always encouraging her kids to do the same. Today would also be a day without class. The family would visit the grave of Matteo Valentini, followed by the urn where Naya’s sister's ashes were. Moon was the one who insisted on cremation after Sophie's organ donation, because it was part of her Korean culture, and technically, the Valentini-Kwon family was 50% South Korean and 50% Italian.

"Do you think about Sophie?" This time it was Naya who broke the moment of reflection.

“Honestly?” Lexi turned up, staring at the ceiling before continuing. “Not anymore. Of course, I miss her. It must be a lot worse for the boys, I can’t even imagine what it would be like to lose you.” She referred to the fact that they shared the mother's womb. "But I believe I've been through it. I guess I’m fine now. How about you?”

"I'm thinking about her now."

"But that's because it's the death anniversary."

"Yes. But I thought the same thing when dad came home that day and told us everything. Sophie was seven. She's gone without knowing what high school is like, or what it's like to kiss someone, or drive a car. She never got a chance to live. Unlike uncle Matt.” Naya adjusted a strand of her own hair. "Thinking about that makes me depressed. She could’ve had the world”.

“I know.”

"What about us?"

“Sorry?” Without understanding the question, Lexi frowned.

"What I mean is ..." The other one sat on the bed, the blanket dropped into her lap, just as her hair fell on top of her pajamas. "We can have the world, Sophie doesn’t. The question is: what are we doing with our lives?

“Okay, Nay. Relax a little and get out of this life’s philosophy thing for a moment. You and I ... We're only sixteen. School-type things are our biggest concerns.” Lexi followed the twin, but as she got up, she went to sit on her sister’s bed.

"But that's the point, Lexi. What if we die? I still have so many things that I want to do and we just… Exist. Sophie, she was seven, there wasn’t much she could have done except .... Bring some message to our family.” To say that seemed the correct interpretation. "And it hurts, but I do not want to end up like her, Lexi. I want to live. I want to decide what I'm going to do, challenge myself more. Because I can die tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow. I want to be like uncle Matt. He did everything he wanted.”

Alexia seemed to understand the meaning of that conversation, the reason of her reflective sister.

"So, what do you want to do? Unrelated to, you know, with what we have now. Boyfriend, dance, friends, taking all of these things away?

The question took her by surprise, but perhaps her unconscious wanted that to be thrown on the table. What Naya wanted to do with her life? Once she finished her senior year of high school next year, what she would do? A small memory small came to when her interest in old movies began to emerge after a summer vacation at the grandparents' farm. After that, she remembered the godfather playing piano, and how he said she had a good voice. Her dream of being a musical actress began from there, along with an entire week only watching the famous Broadway performances. She actually achieved that.

Still with the thoughts turned to her godfather, she wondered if she should believe him. After so many refusals, she wouldn’t have the audacity of calling him and asking for advice, and not even would step on other people with incredible talent and much better than her because of their connection. The way was to try, go through all the phases of her challenge, as well as what her late sister would never have the opportunity to do.

With a smile sprouting just as a year had passed since the accident, Naya looked at her sister before she laid down again.

“What? Why are you smiling? Naya?”

"I've figured out what to do."

"And you’ll not tell me?"

“You’ll find out.”

So, the girl looked at the digital clock once again, following the moment when he had just shown 4:01, exactly one minute later after her younger sister was pronounced dead. However, the only thing she could do was smile. She had understood one of her sister’s missions in her short life, and hoped the rest of the family would understand soon enough. With a lighter heart, she whispered before falling asleep.

"Thank you, Sophie.”

#fanfiction #fanfic #jyp #jyp entertainment #jypnation #2pm #wonder girls #stray kids #itzy #somi #got7 #twice #jj project #15&#jus2 #naya #backstage

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nominalbutler · 5 years

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“What is vulnerability? What does it mean to be vulnerable?”

The instructor’s words echoed throughout the now silent room, harmonious yet cacophonous when paired with the humming of the ceiling lights. That blond kid had been right — the squeaking frequency was enough to make your teeth hurt, but no one seemed to pay it any mind. The notebook page in front of Ciel was still blank, a single black blotch where he touched his Bic to the paper when he thought he knew the answer — risk, fear, emotional exposure. That’s what Ann had said at the beginning of the workshop. Simple enough.

Ciel swallowed. They had a few minutes to write down what they thought vulnerability was. Who knew if they would have to pair up with someone with the same color of shoelaces as them or the same birth month and share once the time was up. He felt that he needed something else. His corporation had paid for him to attend this conference and Ciel was compelled to do better, dig deeper; he wanted to show the rest of his team that he wasn’t just here for the food and the beach views.

Glancing up, he saw Sebastian’s head tilted downward, writing in the cramped little notebook that everyone had been provided everyone with at the start of the weekend during check-in. Ciel couldn’t see what he was writing from across the room, only the fluid way his long fingers danced with the pencil across the page.

Had Ciel’s gaze been that heavy?

Sebastian’s head turned slightly, quizzically, and he looked up, calmly. He gave a tight-lipped half-smile as his eyes met Ciel’s. Quickly Ciel returned to his own composition notebook, scrawling frantically the first thing that came to mind. He might not know exactly what vulnerability was, but he knew what it felt like.

Vulnerability is the hot feeling in your face that even cold mountain air can’t cool. It’s the pounding of your heart, so fast, so loud you can’t understand it. Like it’s trying to tell you something in Morse code, but the only Morse code you think you know is SOS — three short, three long, three short — and it’s definitely not saying that. It’s the condensation from a glass of beer wetting your fingertips as you fidget with the Southern Sounds Brewing Company glass in a near-empty bar, flinching when a foot gently graces your shin under the table. It’s the dry feeling in your mouth when you’ve spoken too much, but haven’t said enough, because how can you honestly and completely say all that you’ve been feeling for a year in the brief span of time it takes the last few stragglers to switch songs at karaoke. It’s intoxicating relief and abject fear. The unknown, the innocence, the undeserved trust.

Ciel’s pen flew across the paper as he thought of Sebastian and their conversation from the previous night. It had been constrained, reductive. Their voices had been hushed despite the din of the bar, Ciel’s eyes fixed on the pocket of Sebastian’s flannel. They couldn’t risk being heard and yet they spoke anyway. Ciel had never been so bold, so willingly exposed. Nobody had made him feel vulnerable like that before, and it frightened him. Even if they were alone in Ciel’s hotel room, he had a hunch that he would feel all the same.

His words spilled onto the paper, pouring over the pale blue and red lines that tried to tell him how to organize his thoughts. He was still writing when he heard the woman speak, from far away, that they should wrap up their last few thoughts. There’s another prompt, another question she wants them to reflect on.

Vulnerability is admittance, was the last thing Ciel got down before he felt everyone rising to their feet beside him. There was a stinging behind his eyes and a warm tickle in his throat that he had to cough away before standing up. The room was spinning as he tried to find someone, anyone else, to share with. His hands went up in the air, palms turning back and forth in the international sign of “I need a partner.” Thankfully, he saw Sebastian settling in with some stranger, notebook closed and tucked in the front pocket of his flannel. He wondered what his coworker had written, and took a distracted second to ponder it before getting caught once again; Sebastian’s head turned ever so slightly, his eyes slid to the left to meet Ciel’s, and Ciel felt exposed all over again.

#needed to write something so i cranked this out #j writes #after what feels like a decade #cut me some slack i gotta ease back into it #also had some reflective journaling time of my own that i wanted to revisit #even though i lost that fucking notebook and im seething right now cuz of it

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weapon13whitefang · 5 years

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in the talking dead for the quiz they say that the box Michonne had, the things inside was inspired by To Kill a Mockingbird.If you've read the book the the Mockingbird represents someone innocent that has been injured or destroyed by evil(in the book Boo Radley,Tom Robinson,etc.) ( in the show I guess Rick can be a representation but mostly Beth in my eyes) considering the comparison of beth and birds lately, I would love to hear your opinion

Sorry it’s taken me awhile to answer you! I wasn’t ignoring you, I just had to find a way to really think about what you were asking and about the source material.

First off, I don’t watch Talking Dead anymore. I don’t have much like for Chris Hardwick after all the stuff I’ve learned about him and all the stuff that’s been proven… Yeah I just can not watch Talking Dead without wanting to throw something at Hardwick… You know I don’t much trust ya when I won’t even watch for my favorite actors on the show… I don’t know, maybe he really didn’t do the crap that was said but… I’m not seeing any evidence against it… So I don’t watch Talking Dead.

That said, I have gotten a break down of stuff that was talked about. And I gritted through a few scenes of it to listen to my favorite actors talk… And let me just say that, yes. I know the book To Kill A Mockingbird. I don’t know if it’s just a Midwestern school thing, but for most Missouri kids I know, To Kill A Mockingbird was one of those books you read every year until senior year. The first time I read the book was in fifth grade, over fifteen years ago… I can still recall how I felt after reading it to… It’s just one of those books that sticks with you like Lord of the Flies or Romeo and Juliet or The Great Gatsby – those books teachers shove down your throat because they have such important life topics.

You mentioned how the Mockingbird represents “someone innocent that has been injured or destroyed by evil (in the book Boo Radley, Tom Robinson, etc.)”. And you’re right in that, this is the main theme of the book that most people will point out… Interesting to note, though, that Harper Lee was never forthcoming with the symbolism and themes. But she was famous for saying that the story spells out the meaning of a code of honor and the conduct in the heritage of the Southerners. Which makes sense if you look at in a simplistic term, sure. Honor is the high respect you have for someone or something. Conduct is the manner in which a person behaves, especially on a particular occasion or in a particular context.

An example of this is basically the whole thing with Tom and Boo. Bob Ewell is the town drunk and known to be one mean and cruel man. But because Bob is white, because Mayella is white, and because poor Tom is a man of color, the view of what they know is right vs what they see as right is truly shown. It’s very very obvious in the book that Tom Robinson is innocent and that the stuff he’s being accused of, are things he couldn’t and wouldn’t do. People of the town know what kind of man Bob Ewell is… But because Bob and Mayella are white that’s enough for people to turn a blind eye to it and sentence poor Tom to be hanged. It doesn’t matter all the proof that Atticus had. It didn’t matter if Bob Ewell had been caught red handed, even. Because Tom was a black man, he was doomed. Ignorance, racism, and hatred play a big role in the undertone of the book and it is those key elements that lead to an innocent being killed. It’s what leads to people like Boo and Tom being hurt. Bob Ewell was a symbol of evil in that he was a cruel, racists,and unbearable man. But because he was white, Tom – a black man that was the symbol of innocence with Boo – was screwed.

There’s so much you can talk about when it comes to this book. There’s themes and undertones that you can pick at and everyone would have a different opinion. For me, this is a book of studying the moral nature of a person; are people good or evil? It’s highly noted that a single person can be good or evil, while people as a whole can be evil or do good. As individuals, the jury would probably have agreed with Atticus and Tom would’ve lived. But as a whole – to uphold an image of “pureness” – they made an evil choice because of an evil man… Yet it’s more than that. Scout and Jem in the beginning of the book believe that all people are good and innocent because the two have never been exposed to evil and they believe people have never been around evil so that makes them good and innocent. By the end of the book, they both have experienced what evil is and have to come to understanding with it and their view of the world. It’s through Atticus – who is an example of being able to see evil but not letting it change him to evil but instead also see the good and learn to see people as a whole in that they have good and bad in them,that nobody is truly evil to the core, but that things in life lead them down these paths that aren’t always just good and evil. That the world isn’t black and white, heroes and villains. It’s gray. That’s how I always saw the book,anyway.

So taking into account that this book has many themes, how do they apply to the show? First off, letting me know that was kind of interesting for me. Thanks for sharing that because it got me thinking a lot… In the box, Michonne specifically pulls out three things. A preserved four-leaf clover, what appears to be baseball cards, and the little sheriff figure with the gun. Lets focus on these things fora bit before I get to the mockingbird (And I will, just hold on for a second!)

Coming from an Irish and German background, I always loved trying to find four-leaf clovers at my grandma’s house. First off, the four-leaf clover is a very rare plant to find because they just generally do not grow with four leaves. They’re kind of a mutation of sort, basically…Anyway, each leaf on the four-leaf clover has a meaning according to my grandma. Faith, Hope, Love, and Luck. The regular three leaf I learned in bible school that it represents the Father, Son, and the Holy Spirit and if you found a four-leaf, the fourth leaf was God’s Grace. So, finding a four-leaf clover was basically really good fortune for you, as in the holy trinity is watching over you and giving you grace.

There’s a lot of symbolism around the four-leaf clover really. After doing some digging, I learned that apparently in some biblical background stories about the Garden of Eden, Eve took a four-leaf clover with her to remember the place she and Adam were cast from (that’s kinda depressing but I get it). I also learned that apparently Druid priest used the four-leaf clover to ward off evil spirits in worship rituals. Also, in some cases,children and adults would hang a four-leaf clover over their doors to ward off bad omens, witchcraft, and evil spirits. In the Middle ages, they believed that those that carried a four leaf clover could see the fae folk. It was also believed to help ward off and give protection from The Evil Eye – which is basically a legend about a malevolent spirit of evil casting misfortune to someone; cause them to harm themselves by casting eyes on them. So the clover was like a “shield” against this gaze.

If there’s one thing that has happened to TF, it’s the cast of the evil eye upon them. Rick is “dead” (so they think) and their world has been cast astray of what they all know – which is following Rick’s leadership. Even with Michonne taking over (she doesn’t let them call her the leader but she basically is) everything is still not together – they’re all scattered away from one another and all lost with Rick gone, even after all this time. Finding a four-leaf clover – one basically buried away in a tomb van – shows a prospering future for Michonne and TF. Something they could all use… The clover is linked to the box, which means it’s basically a box of memories for someone…Just as the clover was a memory for Eve, that clover was for someone else…

I find it fascinating the Morgan and Michonne both found“lucky” items in abandoned vehicles.

Next up is the baseball cards – or at least that’s what they look like – and I’m wondering if that’s supposed to represent Negan. Finding the clover then the baseball cards in order… I’m thinking Negan is going to have a big hand in the future. Now obviously I could be wrong and maybe they’re just school photos or something like that and maybe they have nothing to do with good for Negan. But you say baseball and I automatically think of baseball bat and then I think of Negan. Plus the cards were wrapped up – imprisonment symbolism? Michonne would be the only one who could truly let Negan free… I’m not to sure about these cards but I do feel Negan with them.

Finally the little sheriff figure. Obviously, it’s for Rick. But what does a Sheriff represent in general? Well first off the Sheriff is supposed to represent keeping the peace. A sheriff protects the peace, enforces law, provides traffic control, investigates accidents, transports prisoners,and leads a community. I work for a Sheriff department, as luck would have it(for me, anyway) and I can tell you something neat. The badge we all know – the star badge – was taken because it was cheaper and easier to make than the original badge – which was an eagle shaped/themed badge. Plus the star is a symbol of all fifty states and the Sheriff wears the star with his state and his county name printed on it. So it’s his American shield/symbol of bringing peace.

Rick being a Sheriff is really interesting for me since I started working with the Sheriff of my county. Throughout the last eight years of TWD, I have seen Rick do basically everything I just described above… But he’s also been very much the complete opposite of what a Sheriff is supposed to stand for. I mean Rick has murdered before. He stabs Shane after luring him into a false sense of peace, straight up put a machete through Thomas’s head at the prison, strangles a Claimer to death and rips the throat of another open…Like Rick has done a lot of shit a Sheriff shouldn’t do… But he is still a symbol of peace and future, which is what a Sheriff is.

So with those items aside, lets talk about a Mockingbird. In the book, there’s a quote about the Mockingbird, which is supposed to be part of the symbolism we talked about above. The line is said by Atticus and later affirmed by Miss Maudie, I believe. It goes as followed:

“Rememberit’s a sin to kill a mockingbird.” That was the only time I ever heard Atticus say it was a sin to do something, and I asked Miss Maudie about it.

“Your father’s right,” she said. “Mockingbirds don’t do one thing but make music for us to enjoy . They don’t eat up people’s gardens, don’t nest in corn cribs,they don’t do one thing but sing their hearts out for us. That’s why it’s a sin to kill a mockingbird.”

This line is the main line for the title of the book and is basically the key metaphor explored by people. It’s true that Boo and Tom are indeed part of this symbolism. The mockingbird is a symbol that good, innocent people are destroyed by evil. Tom is destroyed by evil and I believe he’s even likened to a songbird that was slaughtered by children (or something like that, I’d have to dig my copy out and really read it again… Which I just might…). For Boo, he was destroyed by the evil that is his abusive father long ago, but he was still just good and gentle and didn’t cause no harm and saved Jem and Scout. Scout even makes a wise comment that hurting poor Boo would be like shooting a Mockingbird – it would be a sin to punish something/someone who has done nothing but try to be a good soul.

I believe the reason they decided to use To Kill A Mockingbird for this episode is because of Magna, Yumiko, Connie, Kelly, and Luke… And for Michonne. Think about it. There’s a trial scene. At this point,Judith would be Scout and even a bit of Boo. Michonne is being a Bob Ewell (funny how that works) and Magna and her group are Tom Robinson.

Michonne bases Magna and the whole group on one simple thing– Magna was a convict. She basically riled up a lynch mob with everyone and made the group out as these monsters that would stab them all in their sleep…Just as Bob painted Tom as some kind of big violent rapist. Judith was basically Scout and Boo. Judith saved them and brought them in, but she also killed to protect them (sure they were just walkers but yeah). Think about the character Scout and the Character Boo and then think about Judith. Judith can basically be considered “innocent” (I use that lightly because the girl isn’t completely innocent, she knows things, but she’s not grown enough to experience what true evil is). Judith is Scout in that she sees these people and assumes “good” because it’s something she just sees. Now obviously Magna and them are good, but what if they weren’t? Judith wouldn’t be able to see it. It wouldn’t take much to pull the cloak over a child’s eye, even one as quick witted and smart as Judith.

I believe that’s part of the reason we had her speaking against Negan. What Negan says is true about people. They can look real nice and seem real nice, but they can turn on you real quick and do damage. Funny enough, Negan is basically an anti-Atticus in his own right. He knows what is real good and what is real evil, but he lets himself make his own choices and runs an evil path. Atticus knew the difference between evil and good but stayed good and kind. Which, yeah, Rick fits this mold with a little push… But it’s also Daryl who fits this role the most and that’s something as well.

Anyway, Michonne was basically going to get Mockingbirds killed. Magna and them haven’t done anything evil that we know of so they’re not far from sin, but they are people that have done no wrong to the people that have helped them and have shown to be good and even democratic (the whole voting scene) and that’s our evidence that they’re good people just trying to survive. Michonne would basically be doing what Scout told Atticus about Boo –it would be like shooting a mockingbird to send them off. And I agree that Rick would have helped them too… He would’ve been wary and he would’ve been watching the new people, but Rick would’ve given them a chance to prove themselves as good. Michonne wasn’t doing that. She was stone walling them out – being a child throwing rocks at the mockingbirds.

Now… I know you asked about Beth. The more I think about it, Beth was an Atticus. She knew the world was full of evil… But she knew there were good people and knew that you had to see people for their strengths and weaknesses to see their whole and see them for who they were as a whole. Beth was like Jem and Scout too. She hadn’t experienced real evil until watching her father be beheaded… But she wavered in her belief of good people with Dawn and that put her at how Jem was towards the end of the book. But if she were around now, Beth could’ve been an Atticus…

Which leads me back to Daryl. If there’s anyone that fits the mold of Atticus, it’s Daryl… At least he did. Right now I’d say he’s more of a Jem. Lost his faith in systems and his beliefs of there being anymore good people… By the end of the book, Jem becomes distant in his belief of good people and justice. Daryl was an Atticus but now he’s a Jem… But he can become an Atticus again, which I believe will happen as the season goes on.

To be honest with you, the only thing bird related I’ve seenwith Beth was the bird cage in her cell room back in season 4. The birdcage in media – art or otherwise – is generally a symbol of lost freedom for a bird but also a frame of appreciation for their natural wonder. The birdcage is a symbol as much as the actual bird encased. For example, when I hear someone speak of a caged bird I always think of Sweeny Todd and the song “Green Finch and LinnetBird” that Johanna sings. In the song, Johanna compares herself to the caged bird and how she is trapped in the judges house, how her dream is to be free of her imprisonment and also talks of her inability to cope with the fact she will probably never escape. It’s always that song that comes to mind when I think of a bird cage and honestly it’s probably the most symbolic image and song I can think of. A bird that sings jubilantly and carefree while trapped in a cage…Yeah. That sounds like Beth. She still sings and still shows peace and acceptance even when she is basically in a giant bird cage in season 4 – the prison.Later – in season 5 at Grady – Beth still sings and is still an imprisoned bird, but she’s not as jubilant as she was. Rather she is like Johanna – she is trapped and isn’t sure how she’s to get free. But unlike Johanna, Beth isn’t disillusioned to her captivity and knows she’ll get free.

Now what about a Mockingbird? Well let’s talk about the bird itself. I know some people like @twdmusicboxmystery believe that the bird Daryl sees in 9x06 is an Osciner bird – the Songbird. But I believe it really is supposed to be a Bluebird or a Mockingbird, which IS a type of Songbird. I’m leaning more towards it being a Mockingbird since that’s part of the story in9x06. So Mystery isn’t wrong, I just believe it’s a different type of songbird than what they think it is.

And if it is the Mockingbird – which I believe it is – then that’s also a symbol for Daryl in that he doesn’t kill the bird and he doesn’t destroy it’s food source with the walker. He doesn’t commit a sin. He lets it live. And seeing a bird feeding it’s young and letting it live is definitely Daryl as a Boo Radley. Boo Radley was horribly hurt by his own father – like Daryl– and shut himself from the world because he wanted to be away from all the pain and horribleness the outside world can offer. That is what Daryl has basically done – shut himself way from people and their societies to “protect” himself from their troubles and pain. Loosing Rick put Daryl there but since Tyreese’s death – yes even with Beth’s death – Daryl has been pulling away and it’s no surprise he reached that point with Rick’s departure.

I know I’m not giving some deep meaning into the whole “Here’s all this that shows that Beth could be alive” and for that I’m sorry. I know that’s what you wanted me to answer, was probably hoping for… But I don’t see much symbolism around this bird and Beth and Daryl. I believe the bird is representing the To Kill A Mockingbird theme and that Daryl has his place as Boo at the moment, but is also an Atticus in his own right but needs to find his balance again. Which Daryl has a balance, he’s just off kilter right now.Understandably so.

This isn’t me shitting on anyone. I believe too many people are putting TOO MUCH emphases on all these things being related to Beth. I don’t have any connection for birds and Beth except for one thing and that’s Beth back at the prison and while she was in Grady because of that birdcage. People want to point out Carl seeing a bird cage back in season 4 with a dead bird on the ground and I think that was to symbolize how Carl was feeling and what he was going through – that he was a bird that escaped a cage but he has a chance of dying like the bird, who was probably caged it’s whole life and once free it didn’t know how to care for itself. But Carl wasn’t going to be the bird. He was going to survive and carry his dad along. Which he did. Sure he dies later,but for that scene and for that moment, Carl didn’t let himself become the dead bird.

So… I guess – posting all of this – I don’t really have anything to add to Beth and Birds and symbolism besides to say that sorry I don’t have anything but maybe reading what I’ve posted will give you a thought to go with your connections for Beth?

Thanks for asking me, by the way. This was pleasantly stimulating.

#the walking dead #team delusional #team defiance #team whatever happens will happen #team i don't care I'm having fun #team acceptance

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oneweekoneband · 6 years

Video

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King’s X - Out of the Silent Planet (from Gretchen Goes to Nebraska 1989)

Take what you’ve learned, set it free

See what you’ll see

Sometimes I wonder whether I was conscious in seventh grade. I mean, I literally was -- I’m haunted by the spectre of my English teacher, a proper Southern gentleman, picking his nose and thoughtfully examining his findings. Nevertheless, life before eighth grade took place in a viscous mental state, as though my right-handed brain was trying to think left-handed while confined inside a jello mold. Sometime during eighth grade, someone -- probably my new, kleenex-using English teacher -- added metaphorical acid or whatever disintegrates jello to my metaphorical jello mold and all the mental viscosity slurped away and my mind regained use of its dominant hand, which promptly threw into the air a prehistoric bone that turned into a spaceship: DUN-DUNNNNNNH! Everything turned sharper, quicker, clearer.

That wouldn’t happen until the fall of 1990. Before that, glurb. But in the spring semester of 1990, two sparks of nascent consciousness appeared: I started listening to the Top 40 countdown every Saturday morning, and my parents got me my very own magazine subscription from Focus on the Family.

Breakaway magazine was the FOTF empire’s new method for colonizing the minds of teenage boys. (The mysterious Brio took care of the girls.) FOTF, you’ll recall, is the evangelical nonprofit founded by Dr. James Dobson, noted child psychologist, religious ponderer, unrepentant spanker, suave complementarian, and in 2008, the doomsaying author of “Letter From 2012 In Obama’s America,” which let’s just say didn’t pan out. A mixed legacy. But his impact on my developing aesthetic was profound.

I’d get really excited whenever my parents got mail from Dr. Dobson, because his newsletters opened up my small Missouri town (population 5,280) to The World. I mean, “Piss Christ”! Somewhere out there was a motherfucking photo of a CRUCIFIX submerged in Andres Serrano’s URINE. I wasn’t a complete dope -- this was clearly supposed to offend me, but it was still pretty cool. As was The Last Temptation of Christ. Dr. Dobson’s movie critics could have said, “This movie is thoughtful and anguished for three hours and you’ll probably go to sleep,” which is what happened when I watched it a few years later. But no! Sex with Mary Magdalene! The disciples spitting bloody transubstantiated flesh out of their mouths! (Sadly, that bit didn’t make the shooting script.) This fucking thing was so lurid I knew I had to see it -- you know, so I could condemn it with authority.

When Breakaway started, its music reviews were disguised as an advice column. Some kid (or FOTF plant) would write in asking what the fatherly columnist thought of, say, Paula Abdul’s “Opposites Attract.” Fatherly columnist would hold the music’s lyrics up to Scripture’s plumb line and discern whether we his readership should fill our ears with this tripe. Occasionally he’d mention the music. “Opposites Attract” didn’t pass the test. Its overall message was good, averred fatherly columnist, but that line about “She makes the bed/And he steals the covers” implied Paula and her boyfriend were sleeping together outside marriage, rendering the song off-limits for Christian teens. This was reasonable.

Even so, thoughts arrived like butterflies. What if Paula Abdul was supposed to be married to the Wild Pair? By quoting this troublesome line in Breakaway, wasn’t fatherly columnist soiling our minds as thoroughly as if we’d just listened to “Opposites Attract”? Which I continued to do, btw, even though it’s clearly the second worst single off the first two Abdul albums. (Since you asked, ��Knocked Out.”) In fact, the sexual implications of the line only occurred to me because of fatherly columnist’s advice! After which they continued to occur to me. Daily. Again and again.

Fatherly columnist was also no fan of Depeche Mode’s “Personal Jesus.” He couldn’t understand why le Mode would be so sarcastic about the Savior of the world, and he encouraged us to call radio stations that were playing the song and breathe heavily into the phone -- “hoohoohoo hahaha hoohoohoo HA!” Either that or we could just tell the DJ how offended we were. I dialed our local radio station once when they were airing that bit of blasphemy. The DJ didn’t answer, drunk as he was on the blood of nubile goats.

I swear we’ll get back to King’s X in a second, but let the record show that two years later, Breakaway gave a hearty recommendation to the first Arrested Development album, despite some “mild profanities” and “sexual images.” While fatherly columnist was fishin’ 4 sex and cusswords, he’d presumably also heard the lines, “This government needs to be overthrown/ Brothers with their AKs and their 9mms/ Need to learn how to correctly shoot them/ Save those rounds for revolution/ Poor whites and blacks bumrushing the system.” Since he didn’t mention those lines in his review, I assumed he approved. For those following along at home, here’s the Focus on the Family scorecard. Stealing the covers outside marriage: not good. Blaspheming Gnostic Jesus: worthy of protest. Armed revolution: OK!

In my first or second issue of Breakaway, “somebody” “asked” about King’s X. The reply was the most important record review I’ve ever read in my life.

“Nobody knows about King’s X, and they’re great!” raved fatherly columnist. He knew about them: a hard rock trio from Texas who harmonized like the Beatles and were inspired by C.S. Lewis’s Space Trilogy. Dad had a copy of the Space Trilogy on his shelf, and it had seemed tempting yet forbidding for years. (Like spending a night on the Fixed Land, amirite?) I had to hear this music. I would find Gretchen Goes to Nebraska at the mall.

I wish I could tell you I played the opening song, “Out of the Silent Planet,” with its ethereal 12-string bass riff and its cryptic Christianese lyrics, and felt lifted to new vistas of nirvana and/or joy. I was actually a little disappointed. It’s not like I had so much money to spend on tapes, and the mall was a half hour away! For eight bucks or whatever, I wanted seismic life disruptions. I wanted “Sweet Child O’ Mine” reshaping my fear of hard rock into bliss, or Exposé’s “Tell Me Why” making me jump around the bedroom. King’s X had their moments but they were a little weird.

I told my parents as much a few months later: “They’re kind of like a cult band.” They stared at me from the breakfast nook, bewildered, as though I’d started heavy breathing “Personal Jesus” into their faces. Not an occult band, I quickly backtracked -- “their lyrics are weird and they’re maybe Christian, maybe not.” Why on earth was I throwing around words like “cult band” and “lyrics”? Had I gotten this stuff from Breakaway or Casey Kasem? Whatever. My parents seemed satisfied with this explanation, little concerned that their son was dabbling in the dark art of rock criticism.

My friends, it got worse from there. That fall, on Saturday nights after Twin Peaks, I started falling asleep on my bedroom floor while listening to college radio. (Dad, a Lutheran pastor, would be in the next room with a highball, writing the next morning’s sermon until 1 or 2 in the morning.) Lindenwood College’s Crossroads show played mostly mainstream Christian rock -- Petra, Stryper, Holy Soldier, Idle Cure, Geoff Moore, Liaison -- but sometimes they’d throw in alt-rock bands like The Choir. King’s X’s album Faith Hope Love came out in October of 1990, and at least four of its songs swiftly entered Crossroads’ rotation. Eagerly taping them off the radio, I got the same shivery music fan feeling I’ve only had a couple times since -- that affirmation of a private pleasure being embraced by the outside world. It was thrilling. (I assume this is how hardcore Metallica fans felt about the Black Album.) I heard Gretchen with new ears and expected King’s X to conquer the music world. I had no idea what that could possibly mean.

Here, in a nutshell, we find the perpetual joy and heartache of King’s X fans.

#King's X

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buoyantsaturn · 6 years

Text

400 Lux (1/1)

summary: leo-atthedisco asked: will doesn't speak due to watching his brother die, and nico's like a 'bad boy' who tries really hard to impress will highschool!mortal!au??

it's this headcanon list but as a fic!

word count: 5286

read on ao3

Will was eight years old on the night that his brother Lee had picked him up from his piano lessons across town from where they lived. They were supposed to leave the middle school and head straight home, but Lee had decided to surprise his brother by taking the long way home and stopping for ice cream on the way.

They had to eat while they walked, because knowing their mother, Naomi was counting down the seconds until she expected her sons to be home, and if they ended up being more than five minutes late, they risked having the whole neighborhood watch searching for them.

The Dairy Queen they stopped at was running a little slow on their orders, so Lee had the two of them take a shortcut to make sure they got home on time. It was the same shortcut Lee took on his way home from school, but of course, things were different in the middle of the day than they were after dark.

Will could only remember flashes of what had happened. A man demanding their money, Will’s ice cream cone hitting the pavement alongside Lee’s, and a knife appearing from the darkness. The man vanished with Lee’s wallet and left his knife stuck under Lee’s ribs, and Will couldn’t even manage to scream for help. Lee had managed to pull his phone from his pocket and had Will dial 9-1-1 before he passed out, but Will wasn’t able to tell the operator what had happened.

By the time the police finally arrived, Lee was dead. Will hadn’t spoken a single word since.

By the first day of Will’s junior year, he’d figured out how to make the days as painless as possible. Sit in the back of the room, keep his head down, smile politely but make no other move to interact with his peers. A vague cutting motion near his throat and a shrug whenever someone asked why he wasn’t speaking.

Any teacher that had worked at his high school since he started his freshman year was aware of his disability, but he always wound up stuck in the class of someone new with no way to explain his situation.

He walked into his second period on the first day, moving straight to the back row, setting his backpack under the desk and sitting down silently - feet planted on the floor, hands folded on the desk, head angled down so as to avoid any accidental eye contact.

Someone claimed the seat beside him, drawing Will’s attention momentarily as he dropped into the seat with a huff, tossing his backpack on the floor and leaving it in the space between his desk and Will’s. Will tried to sneak a look at the other boy, afraid of being noticed as he watched the boy kick his high tops up onto the seat of the chair in front of him, lounging back in his chair as he tapped on his phone underneath the desk. Will was pretty sure he’d seen this kid around in the past couple of years, but he was certain that he’d never be able to forget such a pretty face.

Will’s attention was drawn away from the other boy when the teacher called for attention - Mrs. Dodds, someone new, who had an angry southern accent that was almost the exact opposite of Will’s mom’s sweet and soothing southern drawl. Mrs. Dodds starting reading off the attendance list, and Will felt his heartbeat pick up its pace. Would he be marked as a problem child as soon as he refused to answer, or would he just be marked absent? Even worse, what if he was sent to the principal’s office for refusing to speak? It wouldn’t be the first time.

The boy next to him said a bland, “Here,” in response to the teacher calling his name - Nico di Angelo, if Will heard right. Of angels. Yeah, he kind of looked like an angel, Will caught himself thinking.

Mrs. Dodds called his name, and Will rose a hand in acknowledgement, but the teacher didn’t look up. “William Solace,” she said again, voice harsher this time, and she glanced up, finally spotting Will’s hand. “You’ll have to speak up, William, or else you’ll have to sit in the front of the class.”

As Mrs. Dodds continued calling out names, Will slumped back in his seat dejectedly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nico lean toward him, and Will braced himself.

“Why didn’t you just say you’re here?” he asked, pouting in confusion. Cute, Will thought.

He made a cutting motion next to his neck and shrugged, hoping that Nico would understand.

“Oh, you’ve got laryngitis or something,” Nico whispered. “That sucks, sorry.”

Will shrugged again and turned back toward his desk. Or something, yeah.

Nico had learned to sit in the back of class because he could never keep his mouth shut. He’d gotten more detentions than he could count for snarky remarks and correcting his teachers - sorry, but he definitely knew more Italian than someone who’d only lived in Italy for a semester in college ten years ago, and don’t get him started on his history classes - but as long as he sat as far from the teachers as possible, they couldn’t hear his comments.

That was how Nico found himself sitting next to Will in his second period, though he figured Will had chosen a seat in the back to avoid getting called on when he couldn’t talk. He certainly didn’t look like a back-of-the-class delinquent - to be fair, Nico wasn’t either, but he certainly dressed like he was - and Nico figured that as soon as Will got his voice back he would move up to the front row and ask a question every five minutes. Nico found himself thinking about how unfortunate that would be - the back of Will’s head couldn’t be anywhere near as nice to look at as his face was.

When Mrs. What’s-Her-Face started teaching (on the first day of class, seriously?) Nico couldn’t help but groan softly, knocking his head back until it hit the wall behind him. He thought he heard a snicker and glanced over to Will who quickly looked back to the board, but didn’t hide the tiny smile on his lips.

He heard that same snicker a few times throughout the period, always following one of Nico’s dumb comments, and Nico felt a surge of pride at making this hot guy laugh. He was going to be even more upset to see Will move up to the front of the room - nobody had ever appreciated his snark as much as Will seemed to.

When the class ended, Nico packed up his stuff to and offered Will a two-fingered salute, and was just about to turn away when Will smiled and waved back. Nico hurried away and out the door into the hallway, hoping that Will didn’t see the sudden glowing pink of his cheeks.

His next three classes were just as boring as he’d expected for the first day of the year, sandwiched around his lunch period that he unfortunately did not share with any of his friends. He considered searching out Will, but thought that might be weird since they didn’t really know each other. He didn’t want to look desperate.

Nico ate his lunch quickly and all alone, arriving to his next class fifteen minutes early and leaving it the second the bell rang. He just had one last class to survive that day before he was free to go home and enjoy his solitude.

He walked into the classroom, immediately realizing that this class might not be as insufferable as he thought it was going to be when he saw Will sitting in the back row. Nico went over to him, taking a seat next to him, and he was greeted with another bright smile. Nico got a tingly feeling all over his body at the sight, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to run away to hide his blush this time.

“Hey,” Nico said. “Still no voice?”

Will’s smile disappeared, and he stared down at his desk as he shook his head.

Nico hadn’t realized that laryngitis could be such a sensitive topic. He was about to apologize when the teacher announced the start of class. Mr. Brunner started reading off the attendance list, and Nico said, “Here,” for the sixth time that day. He tuned out most of the names that Mr. Brunner called, until he heard, “William Solace,” and saw Will’s hand rise up next to him.

“Uh, he’s here,” Nico said, and Will smiled at him in thanks. Nico felt himself smiling back before he froze. Oh no, he thought, this is a crush.

He was much quieter during Mr. Brunner’s class than he was in Mrs. Dodds’s, afraid that he might blurt out something embarrassing to Will, and managed to keep his mouth shut until the final bell rang. He still waved goodbye to Will as he left, but didn’t wait to see an acknowledgement before he was rushing out of the room.

Nico found Jason at his locker. “What do you know about William Solace?”

“You mean Will?” Jason asked, closing his locker and turning to frown at Nico. “Blond. Junior. What do you want to know?”

Nico crossed his arms and looked away, hoping to prevent Jason from seeing his true intention in his eyes. “I dunno. I just met him today, he seems cool, I guess, but we didn’t talk much.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “No shit, dude doesn’t talk.”

“What do you mean?”

Jason started walking down the hall, and Nico moved with him. “I mean he doesn’t talk. Somebody told me he was in some kind of accident as a kid, I guess. He apparently hasn’t spoken since, but he insists on sticking with public school for some reason. Anyway, am I driving you home?”

Nico spent most of that night researching ASL, figuring that Will needed to communicate in some way, and sign language seemed the most realistic way that he would do so. He found a bunch of websites that talked about deaf culture, meaning that Nico found a lot more information than he’d been looking for - far more than the few basic signs for hello or goodbye or homework he’d originally been searching for.

He’d ended up staying up until nearly three in the morning after finally crawling out of a clickhole, which meant that he was this close to falling asleep in his first class the next morning. He woke right up at the end of class, however, anxious to get to Mrs. Dodds’s class so he could talk to Will.

Will beat him to class, and was already staring blankly down at his desk when Nico sat down beside him.

“Hey,” Nico said, and Will smiled at him. “Um. I’m sorry for yesterday, for bringing up that you can’t talk. I, uh, I didn’t realize it was such a sensitive subject. So. Sorry.”

Will frowned down at his desk. Without looking at Nico, he raised a flat hand up to his lips, then held that hand out towards Nico. Had he not spent the whole night researching ASL, Nico might’ve thought that Will was blowing him a kiss - a very sad, uncomfortable kiss.

“Um, that was sign language, right?” Nico asked, and Will perked up a little bit. Nico stared down at his hands, picking off his black nail polish as he continued, “‘Thank you’? I looked up a few things after school yesterday, in case you did speak ASL, but all I really looked for were school-related things. Like, uh, homework and teacher and classroom. So I don’t know much, but hopefully enough that I can help you with your homework if you need it? And then you won’t have to deal with Mrs. Dodds.”

When he finally looked up, he saw Will beaming at him.

Will was buzzing for the rest of the day. Only his mom and Mr. Brunner had ever bothered to learn ASL for his sake, but now this cute boy was learning a few signs? Just for him? A cute boy wanted to talk with him? It had never happened before, and Will wasn’t really sure how to feel - besides excited, because hell yeah, he was so excited. He wanted to run home and grab the ASL books his mom had gotten for them to share, or invite Nico over after school to teach him. That was all too forward, though, right? People didn’t normally get this attached to a single person after knowing them for a day, right? It had been so long since Will had had a friend that didn’t care if he didn’t talk, so rational thought had practically gone out the window.

Will had made sure to get to Mr. Brunner’s class as quickly as possible before his last class of the day so he could share the news with the one person he could actually talk to.

“That’s wonderful, Will,” Mr. Brunner told him. “I’m glad you’ll have someone your own age to talk to. You should let them borrow the books you used when you first learned ASL.”

‘I was going to,’ Will signed. ‘But should I offer the books first or just bring them to school tomorrow?’

“Well, does your friend understand enough to know what you’re offering?” Mr. Brunner asked, and Will shrugged. “Perhaps it should be a surprise, then. Head to your seat, Will, class will be starting soon.”

Nico was already in his seat in the back row by the time Will took his seat. “Mr. Brunner knows ASL, too?” he asked, and Will nodded. “Cool, maybe he can help me learn some more.”

I could teach you, Will thought. I’d be happy to teach you. But he didn’t respond.

Will brought the first level book the next day, but never ended up giving it to Nico. He wasn’t sure what held him back - embarrassment of some kind or the fear that Nico would think he was being too clingy and change his mind - but it was almost a week before he finally built up enough courage to hand the book over.

“An ASL book?” Nico said before Mrs. Dodds’s class started one morning. “Is this yours?”

Will nodded and signed, ‘You can borrow it if you want.’

Nico watched Will’s hands with a concentrated frown, but looked up in confusion once Will had finished. Will smiled at the adorable look on Nico’s face and held out his hand to take the book back, then flipped to the page with the word borrow.

“You’re letting me borrow this?” Nico asked. “This is so great, thanks!” Will signed you’re welcome, but Nico looked like he still had something he wanted to say, by the way he was biting his lip and jiggling his leg. “Can I, uh, have your phone number? So I can text you if I have any questions?”

Will nodded and pulled his phone out of his pocket, opening up a new contact and handing it over to Nico. He typed for a little while before giving the phone back to Will. “I sent myself a text, by the way.” Will nodded again as he looked down at the screen, smiling at what he saw. He had inputted his name simply as Nico with a ghost emoji on either side. He got a cute boy’s phone number!

Will was smiling for the rest of the day.

He’d managed to hold off on saying anything else to Nico until the end of Mr. Brunner’s class that day, finally caving just before Nico walked out the door.

‘Do you want to come over sometime so I can teach you?’ he asked, his hands shaking so badly that he didn’t really expect Nico to understand.

“Teach me?” Nico asked. “That’s all I caught.”

‘My house. I’ll teach you,’ Will tried again, then fingerspelled, A-S-L.

“Oh!” Nico said, eyes widening. “Yeah, I would love to! Um, but I can’t today. I’ll text you, though, okay?” Will nodded, and Nico smiled up at him. “Great, I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Jason was already in his car by the time Nico finally dropped into the passenger’s seat. “You’re late, now we’re gonna get caught in traffic.”

“Sorry, I was talking to Will,” Nico said, digging through his bag until he pulled out the ASL book, flipping it open to the page he’d left off on.

“What are you reading?” Jason asked, glancing over before focusing his eyes back on the road. “That’s not homework, is it? I’ve never seen you do homework before.”

“Will’s ASL book, he’s letting me borrow it,” Nico said. “He invited me over sometime. To teach me.”

Jason groaned. “Nico, please don’t confuse his kindness as him having a crush on you. I don’t think I could handle that again.”

“It was one time, and besides,” Nico started, “this is different.”

“How is this any different?” Jason asked, and out of the corner of his eye he could see Nico’s face growing red.

“I really, really like him,” Nico muttered. “That’s how.”

Nico went to Will’s house after school a few days later, and Will insisted that they finish their homework before they start practicing ASL. Nico caught him peeking over his shoulder a few times while they worked on their math assignment, and eventually Nico scooted closer to him on the couch until they could both see each other’s work clearly.

They stayed sitting closer than necessary when they finally moved on to ASL, and whenever the two of them turned to face each other, there were barely inches in between them - such a short distance that could be closed in a second, but neither of them ever made the move.

They developed a sort of schedule after that, one going over to the other’s house once or twice a week. They would do their homework and then practice ASL, sometimes watching a movie depending on how late it was, and Nico would usually stay over for dinner at Will’s house. Nico learned the concept of a name sign, and Will taught him his - a W and the sign for sunshine. Nico asked Will to come up with a name sign for him, and Will told him he would think about it. As soon as Nico left that night, though, Will started talking to his mom and made a name sign for Nico without even thinking - an N and the sign for ghost. (Naomi asked if Nico having a name sign meant that he and Nico were more than friends, but Will said he hadn’t thought about Nico like that.) (He had. All the time.)

Nico had started neglecting his other friends in favor of movie nights with Will. Piper tried inviting him to her house for a few parties, but before Nico could even turn her down, Jason had done it for him, telling her that Friday was Date Night and that Nico would probably choose Will over them. Nico had been indignant, even though Jason was mostly right, but now Nico had to convince Piper that he and Will were not in fact dating (regardless of how much he wished they were).

One particular Saturday night, the two of them planned a movie marathon at Nico’s house that would most likely last late into the night, so they’d gone ahead and planned for a sleepover. The two of them stayed up until almost two in the morning watching movie after movie, only stopping after Will had laid his head in Nico’s lap and almost fell asleep right then and there. They were due to go to bed anyway, since Nico had been having a hard time making out Will’s signs in the dark for a couple hours at that point.

Nico had blown up an air mattress right next to his bed in his room, and Will had collapsed on it and fallen asleep before Nico had even gotten into his own bed. Unlike Will, he had a terrible time trying to fall asleep - how could he, when his crush was right there? He could stretch his arm over the side of the bed and brush his fingers against Will’s arm. He rolled over to his other side, trying to push Will out of his mind so that he could sleep, but the thoughts wouldn’t go away. He remembered Will’s face close to his as he taught him signs, the gentle way he held Nico’s hands and corrected his movements. The way Will had so calmly laid down in Nico’s lap, comfortable enough to fall asleep even as Nico started to run his fingers through Will’s soft hair.

He heard shuffling, like Will was rolling over in his sleep, but the shuffling didn’t stop, and then gasping breaths joined it.

“Will?” Nico whispered, sitting up and leaning over the side of the bed.

He must’ve been having a nightmare, Nico thought, and was about to try to wake him up when Will bolted upright, sounding like he was wheezing or hissing - like he was trying to scream but the sound wouldn’t come out.

Nico launched himself out of bed, dropping into Will’s lap and framing Will’s face in his hands. “Will, shh, you’re okay,” Nico told him, resting his forehead against Will’s when he finally stopped struggling to scream. “You’re safe, you’re okay. Everything’s okay, I’m right here for you.” Will squeezed his eyes shut as tears started rolling down his cheeks.

Nico started to lift himself off Will’s lap, but Will wound his arms around his waist to keep him there. “I’m not going anywhere,” Nico promised. “Come with me, stand up.” This time when Nico tried to stand, Will let him, and followed him up onto his feet. “Lay down with me,” Nico whispered, climbing back into his bed, Will joining him without a second of hesitation.

Will wrapped his arms around Nico’s waist, hiding his face in Nico’s chest as he sobbed, and Nico pulled the blankets up around them. Nico started stroking his other hand through Will’s hair, only stopping when he heard something that sounded like whispering. “Will?” Nico asked softly. “Are you saying something?”

He strained to hear it, but it sounded as though Will was whispering, “I’m sorry,” into Nico’s t-shirt, over and over again.

“Shh,” Nico said again, returning to stroking Will’s hair. “Don’t be sorry. Go back to sleep, Sunshine, I’ve got you.” He pressed a kiss to the top of Will’s head. He would be surprised if he managed to get any sleep at all that night.

Nico waited until he felt Will relax in his arms, eventually falling asleep once again, and Nico finally allowed himself to close his eyes.

Nico woke up the next morning to the feeling of Will pulling himself out of Nico’s grasp. Nico rubbed at his eyes with one hand to wake himself up while his other hand reached out for Will, grabbing his t-shirt to keep him from getting too far away.

“Will?” Nico said softly. “Are you alright?”

Will pulled Nico’s hand off his shirt so that he could sit up, and nodded. Nico followed him up.

“Are you sure? Do you want to talk about it?” Nico offered. He saw Will’s eyes well up with tears before he shook his head no.

‘I’m sorry,’ Will signed.

“Don’t be sorry,” Nico told him. “You didn’t do anything.”

Will started signing rapidly, too quick for Nico to catch more than a word or phrase here or there - ‘You’re right,’ ‘I didn’t do anything,’ ‘I’m sorry’ at least three more times - and after a moment Nico reached out to stop his hands, holding them in his own.

“It’s okay, Will,” Nico told him, squeezing his hands. “You have nothing to be sorry for, there’s nothing to worry about. Okay?” Will hesitated before nodding, and Nico drew one of his hands up, pressing a kiss to Will’s palm. “How about we go downstairs? We can watch another movie, and I’ll make us breakfast.”

At school on Monday, Will surprised Nico by meeting him at his locker before first period. He waited for Nico to gather everything he needed for class and shut his locker before he reached down and took Nico’s hand in his, lacing their fingers as they started down the hall. Nico didn’t question it, afraid that if he did then Will would let go, and he certainly didn’t want that.

Will walked with him to his first class, squeezing his hand before letting go and waving goodbye so that he could head to his own class. Nico entered the classroom, immediately being cornered by Piper before he could sneak away to the back corner.

“What was that?” she asked, and Nico frowned.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She gestured toward the door with both hands. “You! And Will! He’s never walked you to class before! And you were holding hands, what’s going on? I thought you said you weren’t dating!”

“We’re not!” Nico insisted. At least...he was pretty sure they weren’t. They weren’t, right? He’d want to know if they were, and how long it had been going on, because while cuddling on the couch during a movie was great, Nico figured that making out and completely ignoring the movie would be even better. “He spent the night on Saturday and had a nightmare, and he’s been kinda shaken up by it since. He just wanted some comfort or something, I don’t know, but he wanted to hold my hand so I let him.” He could feel himself blushing and turned away from her, crossing his arms over his chest.

Piper narrowed her eyes at him. “Uh huh. Okay, sure.” She jerked her head toward the back of the room. “You’d better get back there before somebody steals your seat.”

Nico kept a close eye on Piper for the rest of class, though not once did her eyes stray from that day’s lesson, never once pulling out her phone to send a text announcing the latest update on Nico’s love life.

He was happy to see the end of class, because it meant that he got to see Will. They had a test in their math class, which meant that they didn’t get to talk or pass notes, but at the end of class, Will’s smile goodbye seemed a little more upbeat than it had when they’d parted ways before the start of Nico’s first class.

Will had history for his third period class, and while he was normally one of the only kids sitting in the back of the room, that day Piper had decided to join him. She slid a note onto his desk after class had started that said, Are you and Nico dating?

Will wasn’t sure how to answer. They certainly acted like they were, but neither of them had ever said anything to confirm it. He hesitated before writing his response: I think so, but I don’t know how to ask him to make sure. He folded up the note and looked toward the front of the room as he held the paper out toward Piper.

Just ask him, Piper replied. If only it were that simple, Will thought, picking up the note and crumbling it in his hand. Just ask him - it wasn’t like Will had a voice to use to ask, “Hey, Nico, are we dating?” and if he tried to sign it, his hands would probably shake so bad that Nico wouldn’t be able to tell what he was saying, anyway.

Except that...he did have a voice, didn’t he? Physically, there was nothing preventing him from speaking, just some kind of mental block. He’d never considered that he would ever speak again, always assumed that he would be forever silent, but...he didn’t need to be. He could learn to talk again, if he truly wanted to. Would his voice even work after going unused for almost ten years? He would have to wait and see.

He didn’t say anything about it to Nico or Mr. Brunner during sixth period. He didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up - especially not his own - until he knew for sure that this was something he would be able to do.

He also didn’t text his mom about it, wanting to wait until she got home from work so that he could talk to her in person. He’d made sure to sign slowly and clearly so he wouldn’t be misunderstood, and when his mom repeated back to him what he’d said, tears had spilled over her cheeks. She wrapped her arms around his son, telling him how proud of him she was. They spent the rest of the evening researching therapists in the area that spoke sign language, reading reviews and checking rates, until Will finally settled on the one he would meet with.

Once Will started seeing his therapist twice a week, he didn’t have as much time to spend with Nico, which was both good and bad. He missed seeing his best friend so often, but he didn’t want to spoil the surprise, either. (He’d told Nico that he’d started seeing a therapist, but hadn’t told him for what, and Nico never pried.) They made up for their lost time, though, by spending nearly every weekend together - cuddling on the couch during movie nights and sleeping in the same bed whenever Will spent the night (Nico had foregone the air mattress after the third weekend in a row that Will had decided to sleep in his bed with him).

It took months for Will to be able to manage to speak a single word. His therapist broke him down and helped him to build himself back up, allowing a voice to be a part of his new and improved self. His voice was shaky and lacked confidence, it cracked worse than thirteen-year-old’s, but it was his voice.

He decided to cancel a single session with his therapist, knowing that it would be the best opportunity to surprise Nico, but also made sure that his therapist would still be expecting him for his next session - he could talk, sure, and that had been the goal, but he had a lot more to work through than just that.

Will hurried home after school, collecting some snacks and a DVD that he’d been saving for that weekend, and drove himself over to Nico’s house, trying to control his excitement as he knocked on the door.

Nico opened the door with a look of confusion on his face, one that switched to happiness at seeing Will, and then going back to confusion. Before he could ask what Will was doing there, Will said, “Hi, Nico.” It was shaky and rough and cracked on the first syllable, but the look on Nico’s face was definitely worth all the work.

“Did you--” Nico started, whispering as though speaking up would startle Will’s voice away. “You just--”

“Yeah,” Will said, holding back a bubble of laughter.

“But...how--”

“I wanted to ask you out,” Will said. His voice was starting to dry out already - he probably wouldn’t be able to talk much longer, but he just had to get this out. “Ask you with my voice. So, Nico--”

Nico surged up, hands framing Will’s face as he pressed their lips together. Will dropped the bag of snacks he had in his hands in favor of wrapping his arms around Nico’s waist.

“Yeah,” Nico breathed against Will’s lips. “Yes, I wanna go out with you. I really, really do.”

#mine #my writing #solangelo #high school au

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