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jajanvm-imbi · 4 years

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Headcanons of Krel living on earth because he’s my favorite and I love him and I haven’t seen anyone do this yet so I feel like I have to

^^^^^because of this very moment I love the idea of Mary and Darci befriending Krel.

Since Aja,Vex and Eli went back to Akaridion-5, Mother was destroyed, and Claire was busy with Trollhunting stuff, earth gets pretty lonely. So Mary and Darci adopt him into their friend group.

At first Krel was a little apprehensive to joining their friend group, but he quickly warmed up to it because, he, being Krel, loves the attention.

like I can totally see Mary and Darci taking Krel to like a mall or something and doing those like teen romcom movie shopping montages where he goes into a changing room and the girls judge the outfit until they find the perfect one.

I personally believe Krel would adopt a soft boy look, with like oversized button ups and t shirts tucked into jeans, but thats just me.

anyway, because he’s friends with Mary and Darci, Krel has a new found social popularity in Arcadia.

because of this, Krel would prolly get nominated for Spring Fling king and shit

I would say Krel wouldn’t really care about being nominated, but seeing how he cared so much about the science fair and the Battle of the Bands, he would definitely care

Steve is conflicted because he wants to be Spring Fling King, but he can’t mess with Krel like he did with Jim and Eli cause Krel is his girlfriend’s brother

Krel notices this and takes advantage of it to mess with Steve and actually tries to win.

like Krel would just dominate the contests, and his theme presentation would be the flashiest and most appealing and people would just generally like him, and that would really worry Steve

like Krel, with four arms would be really good at the Touch-a-Truck-athon or whatever its called.

Krel would prolly let Steve win anyway because watching Steve squirm and freak out over prolly losing the crown and not being able to do anything about it cause he's Aja's brother is much better than any highschool dance crown

also the school 100% asks Krel to DJ future dances and events to save money, and Krel absolutely loves it

He would also definitely do the school play. Seeing how much he enjoyed being in Toby and Eli's short film, and again, he loves the attention, he would totally be down

Also it would just be another chance to mess with Steve to be the lead.

Because of this, Ms. Janeth would do another Shakespearean play, but do one of those modern renditions. Like it's the same play just in a modern setting, to take advantage of Krel's Akaridion form like they did with Jim's armor.

If not in the play he would do stage crew/tech.

Like he would create elaborate settings for them using A5 tech and Ms. Janeth would adore it

moving on, because home life is pretty lonely with just the Lucy and Ricky for company, Krel loves to host his friends for parties and sleepovers and whatever

and since Krel lives in the coolest house on the block, they love coming over

He hosts girl’s night every other week with Mary, Darci, and Clarie (becauuse she deserves a fucking break)

since we’ve all agreed that Krel is 100% a gaylien, I love the idea that he casually comes out during a girls night

like Mary would be like “So Krel, are there any girls you like?” and Krel’s just like, “*snort* Girls? Who ever said I like girls?” and the others are like “….....?“ and Krel just rolls his eyes and says "I like boys, ladies” and they’re like “ooooohhhh, okay. Cool.”

So now they spend girls night talking about boys. Claire and Darci about their mans and Mary and Krel about cute boys.

One day the girls give Krel a little rainbow pin and Krel’s just like “what’s this?” And the girls tell him that it’s an earth symbol for the gays and he’s like “theres a symbol for that here? I didnt think it was that big of a deal. On A5 it’s pretty normal” and the girls explain why theres a symbol and he’s like “oh shoot wow, thanks" and he put it on his backpack.

He’s pretty confused the first time someone is homophobic towards him cause like that kind if behavior doesnt happen on A5 and hes just like, “why does this bother you? I hardly know you” and just brushes it off. Its doesnt really bother him, mainly cause he doesnt know the earth insults towards gay people so he doesn’t even realize, but if the girls (or Toby, or even Steve, too) catch anyone being homophobic towards their friend they will attack that asshole on sight. Especially Mary and Steve

Random person on the street: Ha, *slur*

Marry: WHAT DID YOU SAY TO HIM BITCH???

Krel: Marry its fine, it’s not that big of a dealoHSEKLOSANDGAYLENMARYGETOFFOFHIM

Marry: SAY IT AGAIN ASSHAT, I D A R E YOU

Claire and Darci: *trying to hold Mary back* maRY NO

Steve: THATS MY NINJA KICKING SPACE ANGEL GIRLFRIEND'S BROTHER BUTTSNACK I'LL END YOU

Toby: *now chasing after Steve to stop him* stEVE NO

Mary would 100% find out who the rando is and destroy their life on social media. Like she would leak their job, phone number, email, school/college (if applicable) to her thousands of followers and absolutely ruin them with no remorse. And honestly, good for her

Also whilst on the subject, Krel can not drive or cook for 2 reasons: 1. Hes gay and 2. He’s a prince so he’s never had to do either before

Like he can obviously do math but that’s it.

Proof? That one scene in Wizards when Douxie had him drive the airship. You know the one.

Coach Lawrence refuses to get in a car with him at Drivers Ed after the 3rd day Krel shows up.

Krel gets addicted to sugary coffee shop-esc drinks thanks to Darci. Not coffee cause we saw in 3Below Part 1 that he doesnt like coffee, but refreshers, coolattas, frappuccinos etc…? Definitely.

As for warm drinks, he’s more of a tea person.

Moving on

He face calls Aja everyday because he really misses her

He tells her all about school and his friends and whatever and Aja tells him about the changes she’s making to the A5 government

Thanks to the wormhole they visit each other often. Sometimes Steve tags along cause he misses his ninja kicking space queen angel girlfriend. (And Eli, but that's also for another post)

They take turns housing Luug.

Krel genuinely loves it on earth, but he hates the primitive technology so he begs Aja to send him supplies and materials for his projects.

He would 10000% apply to HexTech for an after school job. Seeing his reaction to HT in Wizards and the fact that “Akaridion tech and magic are so compatible”, he would be the perfect addition to the HT staff.

The Wizards wouldn’t be sure at first but after he shows them A5 tech and Douxie’s email of recommendation about the time loop thing they made together, the wizards are like “oh yeah we definitely keeping this kid. This is going to be so much fun.”

Their inventions become more and more extravagant because Krel can and he's just extra and the wizards love it.

He would definitely find a way to use magic using A5 tech. But he would have to study magic in order to figure out how, so the wizards help him learn all about magic. And since he's learned everything there is to learn about science and technology and whatever, he's super excited to learn about something completely different and interesting. The wizards are happy to teach him. He would be the first Akaridion to learn and use magic

Like he would make his own staff with his serrator and everything. He's like "earn a staff? Nah fuck that going to make my own"

Speaking of which he really likes human swear words. But he doesnt know when it is and isn't inappropriate to say these swear words so he's gotten in trouble a few times for swearing at the wrong time

For example:

Ms. Janeth: excuse me Mr. Tarron?

Krel: what the fuck do you want?

Everyone in the room: krEL NO

Anyway, back to Krel at HT, thanks to Toby, he would definitely have a bowl of candy in his little lab. More like multiple jars of different candy just scattered around the room. Small candy like fun sized chocolate and skittles and jelly beans and whatever

And a mini fridge, of course.

Steve, Toby and Arrrgh come over to the lab alot to mess around.

Toby has a lot of sci-fi requests for Krel to make

Toby: do you think you can make a shrink ray? Laser blasters? Invisible ray? My own hoverboard? My own serrator *gASP* WITH A WARHAMMER SETTING???? WITH SPACE ARMOR TO MATCH???!!!???!

Krel: Toby you already have a warhammer and armor why do you need more?

Toby: I dont have a space warhammer and armor Krel!!!!!!

Going back to school life, I feel like Krel would take an interest in Spanish class. I mean, his human form is latino and in Trollhunters (I'm pretty sure the lightning in a bottle episode) he said "Si" in response to a question someone asked him, so I feel like he would like to learn another human language.

I also feel like he would just like to learn about Latin American culture in general since Mother gave him that form. He'd like to get in touch with his human self.

Claire (when she isnt busy Trollhunting with Jim and the gang) is happy help him learn about Latin American culture and help him with his Spanish.

Krel, being a fast learner, becomes fluent quickly with a perfect accent.

Señor Uhl, who already liked the Tarrons to begin with, would really appreciate this.

Claire's dad would also appreciate this.

Since he has such a fascination with human music, Krel would especially love Latin American music. Specifically reggaeton, since its kind of like techno music in a way and he already likes techno music.

And naturally, he learns to dance. All the styles of latin american dances. And he becomes quite the favorite on the dance floor.

He and Claire become great dance partners cause they both have the natural Latino rhythm and because Jim respects and trusts his girlfriend he doesnt mind them dancing together at parties and stuff

Although, Jim does ask for dance help at some point cause it looks like fun and he wants to dance with his beautiful talented incredible amazing gf and Krel is happy to teach him and anyone else who wants dance help.

GUITAR LESSONS with Douxie cause in 3Below Krel said he really wanted to learn how to play guitar, steals Shannon’s guitar from the bonfire and is seen multiple times strumming it throughout the series. So of course this is included.

Toby introduces Krel to YouTube and Krel instantly makes his own channel.

of course his channel is called DJ Kleb and he posts his tracks and remixes. and maybe even some vlogs

its a little slow at first, only Arcadia Oaks students are subscribed to it but Mary blows it up by posting one of Krel’s tracks on her own social media and now he has thousands of subscribers

he also gained other forms of social media like Instagram and Tiktok, platforms to post his music

At this point every girl in school wants to be friends with Krel but not in the toxic GBF (gay best friend) way, girls just genuinely think he's 10x more interesting than every other boy in Arcadia Oaks

I think that's it for now sorry this is really long I just really love Krel and I had so many ideas. Feel free to add on!!

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achliegh · 3 years

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Positive

Hello, I asked how everyone would feel if I did a prequel to O&O. I got a lot of yes’ and screaming so I decided it was best to do it. I have been thinking about this ever since chapter 17 of Olive and Otto. So here it is! If you have any questions about characters just send me an ask and I will gladly answer! (Also I just get so happy when people want to talk to me)

Leo and his family belong to @lumosinlove <3

Thank you to: @walking-crisis, @clearsuitcasecookienerd, @blingywitch, @waltzintherain, and @moonofthenight, @onlydreamofmysoul (If I missed anyone who answered my asks please let me know! I know some haven’t answered yet but I am hoping they will)

TW/CW: High school bullies, Coming out to homophobic family, Slurs, Homophonic languages and attitudes, mentions of sex, and pregnancy, teen pregnancy, probably food and drink. Oh! And cigarettes and underage drinking.

Chapter 1

The Night Of

Halloween 2015

“We are never doing that again!” Indigo was laying in her bed next to Leo breathing hard. They just had sex… for the first time ever!. It was horrible and sticky and she never imagined doing that with Leo. They both thought it was a good idea especially because it was Halloween, they were at a house party that one of their cheer friends had put on.

“Agreed” Leo sighed next to her and put his hands on his face. Both here silent for a couple of minutes until they suddenly turned to face one another at the same time and blurted out.

“I’M GAY!” Both slapped a hand over their mouths and just stared at the other like they had a fish strapped to their head….

“What?!” they both said at the same time again. Indigo slapped his shoulder hard causing him to wince, she sat up and hugged her knees resting her forehead on them. Oh god, both of them were just playing the part of the perfect partner when neither really wanted each other like that.

Leo had gotten up to toss the condom they had used, because neither of them wanted to have kids especially that young, he slashed some water against his face and rubbed it down the back of his neck. Resting his hands on his shoulders he looked into the mirror, he saw an idiot, his shaggy blonde curls that he didn’t know how to control, the bags under his eyes from constantly being at practice. Cheer or Hockey, Gymnastic or Band it didn’t matter. With all his school work he had no idea how he hasn’t slept less than he has. Maybe he should stop taking naps during study hall.

He was lanky but trying to build up his muscles, the cigarettes weren’t helping, yeah they suppressed his appetite like his cheer coach told Indigo, but it wasn’t what he needed to be able to bulk up. He sighs and grabs his boxers from the floor and slips them on as he sits next to Indigo. Yes, he was gay, he had known he was different since he was thirteen. He dated Indigo to prove that he could love a woman and he does love her, but not in that way. He wraps an arm around her and holds her close. Rubbing her side as he hears some sniffles.

“Was that the first time you ever said it out loud?” He feels her nod and kisses the top of her head. He first said it to his mirror about a year ago, he was going to tell Indigo but never got around to it because he really thought he loved her romantically, but tonight proved it wasn’t that. “ It’s gonna be okay, I won’t let anything happen to you. I swear on my life.”

“Leo, you don’t understand! M-My parents, they will kill me! They would kill me if they found out we just had sex, and that straight! Oh god, I’m gonna get murdered or sent to conversion camp like they almost did Peri because he dyed his hair pink last week.” She cries harder when she remembers her baby brother being screamed at because his good friend dyed a pink streak in his hair. They called him a Faggot and a Tranny and just horrible horrible names that didn’t even fit him. Peri was straight and cis, so they just threw these horrible insults at him for no reason. He was the oldest out of her six brothers, a year younger than her. Being the oldest of the family and the only girl there is so much pressure to be perfect. She is trying so hard but she can’t help but find her captain good-looking and sweet and she makes her heart flutter in a way Leo never could.

The family tree of the Khalid’s is one that everyone in town shoves their noses into. Indigo’s mother, Valentina, is from Argentina and immigrated to the USA at the same time as her father, Francisco, who is from Mexico. Since they were the immigrants on the block everyone already thought low of them or so their parents thought. So, if the kids did anything not by the parents standards, they were in huge trouble. The family was also highly religious, very Catholics Christians. But they pushed it to an insane level, a debilitating level. Indigo remembers getting a ruler across her hands because she said “OMG” when she was in third grade.

Indigo has six younger brothers, everyone is named after an odd color. Her parents thought they were being creative. There is Indigo the oldest. Peri (short for Periwinkle) the second child is only a year younger than her. Viridian is the third child of the clan and the most rebellious three years younger than Indigo. Vermillion and Crimson, the twins of the family, four years younger than her and the most mischievous little shits. Aurelian is the second youngest and the sweetest little child you will ever meet, he is six years younger than Indigo and her favorite sibling. Gent (short for Magenta) is the baby of the family, 7 years younger than Indigo and the biggest little brat you will ever meet.

Leo doesn’t have siblings or crazy strict parents, he just doesn’t understand that and sometimes Indigo gets angry with him for not understanding. He is always so positive and it really gets on her nerves sometimes.

She leans into him and cries into his bare shoulder, they were both still sweaty from their earlier activities, she didn’t care though. She finally admitted out loud that she was gay, not only to herself but to her best friend.

“Are- *hiccup* Are we gonna break up?” She looks up at him and he sends her the most soft and understanding smile she has ever seen. He always knows what to say, how to hold her, how to treat her, how to calm her down. Whoever he got with would be so lucky.

“Do you want to? I mean, there is such a thing as a beard.”

“Leo, you can’t grow a beard.”

He laughs, “No!” He flicks her forehead making her laugh a little. “I mean a queer beard, its when people act like they are dating so people don’t ask questions about their sexuality. We could do that.”

“Like a double beard.” She smiles at him a little, still sniffling. Wiping her eyes, spreading her makeup all around her face she groans. “Can we take a shower?” He nods and stands up quickly making her fall off the bed. He laughs and runs to the bathroom before she can throw something at him. She hears the water running and smiles a little.

She has the best, best friend. She slowly stands, flinching a little at the slight tightness in her hips, annoyed she walks into the, now steamy, bathroom and slaps Leo’s ass really hard.

He yelps and looks back at her, glaring he rubs his butt, knowing he probably deserved it. They step under the hot stream of water together and sigh. He grabs some shampoo and washes his hair, then hers. Scratching her scalp in a way that he knows she loves.

“Do you think people will figure us out?”

“If you ever want to come out just let me know and I will be there for you 100%”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“But I know what you meant.”

They finished up the shower and were both yawning by the time they finished brushing their teeth. Leo in his boxers and Indigo in her sweatshirt and sweatpants, they curled up in bed together. Her head on his chest as they drifted off. They knew this night had an impact on them, but they never would have guessed how much of an impact.

#leo knut #sweater weather #coast to coast

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sanderssidesfanfiction · 3 years

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If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Ninety Four

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

December 12th, 2003

Emile took a deep breath as he stared at the phone. He brought it back up to his ear. “What would Grandpa possibly have to say to me after hearing about the wedding?” he asked.

“I don’t know, sweetheart. I just know he wanted to speak with you,” his mother said. “Is there a chance you can go see him?”

“Maybe over spring break?” Emile said helplessly. “Until then, I’m pretty busy, and I also...I also have to work up the courage to actually see him.”

“I understand, Emile. Would it help if it was at our house, rather than his? Even ground, so-to-speak?”

Emile sagged. “Yeah, that would help a lot,” he breathed. “Can you set it up? Sometime late March.”

“I’ll talk to him,” his mother promised. “Hang in there, Emile. I know you can do this.”

Emile smiled. “Thanks, Mom.”

December 14th, 2003

Emile was the only one home when there was an urgent knock on the door. He walked over from the kitchen, halfway to the door when the knock started up again. “All right, all right, I’m coming!” Emile shouted at the door. He opened it up, instantly regretting doing so when he saw Remy’s mother on the other side. “Oh, it’s you,” he said disdainfully. “What do you want?”

“What is the meaning of this?!” Remy’s mother demanded, shoving a wedding invitation into Emile’s chest.

Emile looked down at where Remy’s mother was still holding the invitation up against him, then up at Remy’s mother. She pulled away, and Emile let the invitation fall to the ground. “I knew we should have gotten a P.O. box instead of giving you our address,” he said drily.

Remy’s mother scoffed, crossing her arms. “Where’s Remington?” she asked.

“Currently? At work,” Emile said. “And no, I’m not giving you the address.”

“I don’t need the address. Tobias gave it to me,” Remy’s mother scoffed.

Emile rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure, that’s totally believable. What, did you snoop in his room for it? Or did you just find the newspaper clipping Remy sent his brother?”

Remy’s mother turned red. “I demand an explanation!” she said.

“You don’t get to demand anything,” Emile said. “But I would have thought the wedding invitation would have been clear.”

“My son is not gay!” she screeched.

“That’s not what he said last night,” Emile said before he could help himself.

Remy’s mother gave him a disgusted look.

“Yeah, I’m not proud of that one either,” Emile said with a shrug. “Sounded funnier in my head, to be fair.”

“You’re going to Hell!” she seethed. “And I will not have my son be dragged down there with you!”

“Your son is, one: willingly with me, and two: absolutely the most wonderful person I have ever known. I would be shocked if he ended up in Hell. Genuinely shocked. But then again, your particular flavor of Christianity doesn’t care for that, does it? No, you just care that people cough up money to your church and stay in line. Heaven forbid an individual try to be themselves, am I right?” Emile spat. “Now listen: I don’t care for you. That’s abundantly clear to both of us. But consider, for one moment, that I love Remy enough to agree with him to invite you to the wedding. Consider that he actually wants you there. Is there not enough love in your cold, dying, shrivelled up heart to allow him one day of happiness? One day where you don’t kick up a fuss over his choices? One day where you can say you’re proud of him? Is that not possible?”

Remy’s mother snarled. “How could I be proud of my son being a fag?”

Emile’s hands balled into fists, and it took all his restraint to not beat Remy’s mother to a pulp then and there. “You don’t get to use that word,” he said, voice deadly soft. “That is not yours to use, and Remy doesn’t want that label for himself. Bad enough that you use ‘gay’ like it’s a slur; don’t use actual slurs against him.”

Remy’s mother growled, and Emile crossed his arms. “You’re trespassing. I demand you leave now. Or I’ll call the cops. And I don’t know if you remember this, but last time you lied to them they gave you a hefty fine.”

“I’m not leaving until I get an explanation!” Remy’s mother exclaimed.

“Mom! What the hell?!” Remy exclaimed, stepping out of his and Emile’s car. “What, you know I won’t listen to you so you send Dad to give me the ‘we’re disappointed in you’ speech?! ‘Cause you know, I own my own shop now, I can ban both of you from entering!”

“Remy, mind your language,” a man who Emile didn’t recognize said, exiting their car.

“Dad, I love you, but now’s not the time,” Remy growled. “I brought you here so you could leave, not to receive a lecture on my behavior.”

“Remington,” Remy’s mother seethed. “Your...your friend here has been incredibly rude to me!”

“You show up to our door unannounced, demanding an explanation, probably calling me a slur or three, I’m not surprised,” Remy said. “I take it you won’t be coming to the wedding?”

“I don’t want her there after what she said about you,” Emile said, glaring at Remy’s mother.

“I don’t want your grandfather there after what he said about you, and still hasn’t apologized for,” Remy shot back. “We invited him anyway.”

“He doesn’t stalk either of us to ensure we’re on the ‘straight and narrow,’” Emile responded, looking over to Remy. “Just saying no is better than...this,” he gestured in the general direction of Remy’s mother.

“How dare you?!” Remy’s mother screeched.

“Mom, he meant your behavior, not you,” Remy sighed. “Emile, can you apologize?”

“I don’t apologize to bigots,” Emile snarled.

“Emile. Please,” Remy said.

“Rem, she’s stalking you, trespassing, and wreaking havoc on your mental health to the point where you’ve had nightmares,” Emile wisely didn’t bring up the fact that Remy was in need of therapy.

“Emile,” Remy pressed.

“Rem, I’m not backing down on this one,” Emile said. “She doesn’t deserve an apology.”

Remy sighed. “Mio amore...”

Remy’s mother turned her ire on Remy. “Don’t use that sort of language for another man, Remington, it’s unbecoming of you.”

“Mom...” Remy shook his head. “Don’t you understand? I love him. I love him enough to marry him.”

“Why couldn’t you find a nice girl to settle down with?” Remy’s mother bemoaned.

“Because I’m not bisexual,” Remy said. “I’m gay. And you need to respect that, and me.”

“Respect is earned, Remy, and you haven’t earned ours,” Remy’s father said. “Based on your decisions, do you really think we can trust your judgement?”

Emile blew out a breath. “Your dad’s almost worse than your mom.”

Remy rolled his eyes. “Tell me about it. The guilt-trips he took me on when I was little? Definitely worse than my mother guilting me into forgiving her for her behavior, any day.”

“Goddamn,” Emile uttered.

Remy’s mother shrieked. “You bite your tongue!” she declared.

Emile raised an unimpressed eyebrow at her. “You realize if you don’t accept Remy being gay, and I’m just his ‘friend,’ you don’t even have theoretical power over me, in my house? If I’m not your future son-in-law, I don’t have to follow your rules. I don’t have to, anyway, but I’m trying to follow your backwards logic for a minute. I can swear all I want.”

“Spoken like a true sinner,” Remy’s mother spat. “Next you’ll tell me that you seduce little boys.”

“Ah, the ‘all Catholics are pedophiles’ argument, how I missed you... not,” Emile rolled his eyes and continued, “I’m only a year older than Remy, and I was in his same grade, anyway. Now. Am I your future son-in-law to you or not?”

Remy’s mother’s lip curled.

“What do you think about the name ‘Mister Emile Picani,’ Rem?” Emile asked.

Remy was stifling laughter as he walked over. “You know? I think that sounds perfect,” he said, kissing Emile on the cheek.

Remy’s mother looked positively scandalized.

“You know, Mom, maybe it’s for the best that you’re not coming to the wedding. If a kiss on the cheek makes you blush, imagine what would happen when we make out at the altar?” Remy said, laughing. “Because I love my fiancé, more than words could possibly describe. And we kiss, and hug, and are happy with each other. We make love, too, just in case you thought there was any hope that you could save me from Hell; there’s not.

“We love each other, Mom. If that’s not enough for you? Well, sorry,” Remy said, shaking his head. “And I’d really appreciate you not showing up again unless you’re going to apologize for your behavior. Thanks.”

“You’re making a mistake, Remy,” Remy’s father said.

“No, Dad,” Remy said. “For once in my life, I’m making the right decision.”

Remy’s parents didn’t say anything for a beat, and Emile laughed. “You know, all the arguing about last names was solved by this, so I’d say that’s a silver lining.”

“Mm, I still think Remy Thomas would be a good name,” Remy teased. “But you’re right, it doesn’t have quite the same ring as Emile Picani.”

That seemed to snap Remy’s mother out of her reverie. “You will not be sullying our good name with this!” she snapped.

“You still have a good name?” Emile laughed. “After all you’ve done you think it’s still in good standing? No, honey...your son and I are gonna restore that name for ourselves, our way. And if you have a problem with that, then you’re not coming to the wedding. You can’t exactly protest it, unless you want to protest outside a Catholic church.”

Remy’s mother sneered at him. Remy’s father just watched the exchange with an air of disappointment and sadness around him. “Honey, we should go,” Remy’s father said. “There’s no way we can convince Remy out of his choice like this. He’s made his bed, he’ll have to lie in it.”

Remy faltered a little bit and Emile wrapped an arm around his fiancé protectively. “The only bed he’s made is with me,” Emile informed Remy’s dad. “And I don’t know if you realize this, but loving someone who uses the same pronouns as you? Isn’t actually a sin.”

“It’s not a one-way ticket to Hell, but if he doesn’t repent—”

“—Why’s it any of your business whether or not he believes what you believe or whether or not he shares your values?” Emile interrupted. “If he doesn’t share your values, why should he be judged by your standards?”

Remy’s father frowned. “Are you saying he doesn’t share our values?”

“I’m saying he’s marrying me, and that should be a rather large hint that maybe you should reevaluate your relationship to him,” Emile stated primly.

Remy’s father turned back to Remy’s mother. “Honey, we really should get going. You promised to call Vanessa by five.”

“Yes, to explain the drivel she received in the mail, and I haven’t gotten an explanation!” Remy’s mother exclaimed.

“You’ve gotten a perfectly good explanation, it’s just not the one you wanted, Mom,” Remy said with a sickly sweet smile. “You have your explanation. You can track down every last person in my family and tell them not to come to the wedding, and see who listens to you. Test their allegiance. Tear the family into who supports me and who supports you. Have fun.”

“Well, Vanessa won’t come to your wedding, and neither will Tobias!” Remy’s mother spat.

“Gee, you sure?” Remy asked. “Because I could have sworn Tobes was gonna be my best man.”

“Honey, leave them alone,” Remy’s father said. “They’ve made their choice. And it’s the wrong one, but they’ll have to deal with the consequences. You promised you would call Vanessa. We need to go if we want to make it home before she calls.”

Remy’s mother growled, but went to leave. Remy picked the wedding invitation up off the ground. “I take it you don’t want to save the date?” he called after them.

“You’re evil,” Emile said with a smirk.

“In the best of ways,” Remy said, giving him a kiss.

Emile smiled as Remy’s parents drove off, but sighed after they left. “This is going to be nightmare fuel for you, isn’t it?”

“Oh, yeah,” Remy said. “But I’d rather not think about that right now, if it’s all the same to you.”

“You know what? Fair enough,” Emile said. “We also got our wedding checklist done for the day, we decided on a last name. We’re good to go.”

“Mm, I thought we were deciding on a color scheme today,” Remy said.

“I figured one is as good as the other,” Emile said with a shrug. “Was I wrong?”

“No,” Remy said with a shrug. “I just need to call Tobes sooner rather than later about the tuxes.”

“Oh, good point,” Emile said. “So let’s figure that out, and then we can relax.”

“Sounds good,” Remy sighed.

Emile’s arm never left Remy as they walked back inside.

#if there's a place i could be #sanders sides fanfiction #remile #emile picani #ts sleep

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optimistic-dinosaur-nacho · 4 years

Text

Electric Love

(Playing It Cool) Me x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Language Summary: Your fellow writer is not telling this summary. I am. Me. The girl I love works along with my friends and I can’t get her out of my damn head. My friends told so many stories about love and I call bullshit on everything. That weird photo above is my heart. Can be a pain in the ass sometimes but I’ll get to the story of how I met Her.

This is all in his head as he tells you the story.

~~~

I’m hoping this is just my conscience. If not then...

You’re hearing one of the most embarrassing or great things I’ve done that got me to say this. I’m Me. And this is a story when I met Her. This could go back a while because she’s been in my friend group for a while. Talented script writer, she had been writing since she was a kid.

Her first book was a comic book. Never read it but she claimed it was about a soldier on steroids who saves the world from Nazis. I’m certain that’s what she said.

But this is where it takes a turn.

She’s my friend’s sister, Scott.

Hopefully you know the backstory.

Do you? If not let me rephrase it in a small dialogue. The day we met, he left a package and I chased him around. That sound good? Good. Anyway, I don’t feel love like anyone should do.

I’m not even sure I’m capable of it. Those three words, I just repeat the same thing I always say before I get a cupcake to the face.

“I just don’t see myself ever to feel the same way about you.”

Yeah. Messed up in your opinion. You see a girl, she falls in love and then it’s like a truck rams you into a pile of needles. I never get rejected. I’m the one to reject others.

But not her.

“Hey!” I flinched in my chair as she waved her hand, snapping her fingers. “You have to get this script done. You know how Bryan is,” She says. Shit. Got lost in thought about her.

Oh, crap. I forgot to mention her name.

“Hey, Y/N!”

There it is.

Scott comes over and spun the chair around to sit, “So, what’s going on?” He sighs. Y/N looks up to me like I was the one to tell. She was working with me on this like it was some essay for me. But her damn gaze just shuts me up.

“Um... So, the guy character has multiple personalities, he meets the girl character who has multiple personalities and one of his personalities falls in love with one of her personalities,” I said, Scott looks over to Y/N before chuckling softly.

“That sounds pretty good.”

Pretty good?

“It’s terrible,” I say. “It does not sound terrible,” Y/N says. I look over, “But it’s full of cliches. It had a gay best friend personality, it has a bitch girlfriend personality. It has a feisty Hispanic personality,” I rip of my glasses as the two laughed.

God, I loved how I make her smile. “She has a Black detective personality.” Y/N grins up at me, “You also have a scene where the actor runs through an airport,” She adds. I nod, “Yes, I forgot about that.”

Scott raises his brows, amazed, “I love running through the airport scenes.”

“I can’t do this. It’s not a good rom-com. I just want to write something as it is. I don’t want anything that’s comedy or romance. Just you know, play it out.” Y/N and Scott both sat there silently.

Great. I broke both of them.

Y/N looks over to her brother, “If I gave you 20 dollars, could you buy us lattes across the street?” She asked. God, she always knew how to cheer people up with a simple coffee.

Scott nods, “Yeah. Sure.” I looked over my shoulder and spotted my heart chilling in the corner. His lighter flicking in under his thumb as he watched me. I’m starting to think I’m going crazy.

“Hey,” Y/N spoke softly, I turned to look at her, “Let’s go over it. Okay? This is a rom-com correct?” I sighed softly and nodded. She reached across and grabbed my journal.

A journal filled luckily with no personal thoughts. Not a diary. Even if I did have one, it wouldn’t have anything to do with women or her. Maybe. She took a pencil from my book and held it in her hand.

“Have you heard about ‘10 things I hate about you’?” She asked. My brows furrow. Yeah, that Shakespeare movie about a boy who takes on a bet to take a girl out to prom just for someone else to take out the girl’s sister?

“Yeah?”

“Well, in my thoughts. If these characters have multiple personalities there will be some conflict between their personalities,” She spoke. The way she speaks when she tries to collaborate. It’s soothing. Tantalizing.

“It can be similar to Step Brothers-Which is not a rom-com film but it’s something to put down as a thought. Some of these personalities can fight for hours, but it some times...that one personality from each of them, they build some sense and they try to work their ways through love but they know it’s not gonna be easy.”

“So... What’s the ending?” I ask. The pencil reaches up to her lips. Right now? She had to do it now in a library? Her thinking pose has me shifting my seat. She noticed.

Crap.

“I’m sorry,” She pulled the pencil away from her lips, “I’m probably ruining your ideas, I shouldn’t have spoken about it. It’s your thing not mine-”

“No, no,” I cut her off, “It’s fine. I’ll think about it.” Y/N slips the journal back and she grins up at me. “If you need anything else, I’m open for some ideas.” I nod at her, “You might expect calls in the middle of the night, probably.”

She laughs lightly at that. A few seconds later, Scott walks with three cups of coffee. “All right. Here you go,” Scott hands us our drinks, returning him with a thanks.

Y/N reaches for her phone and she gasps slightly. “Shit, I got to go. I have a meet up with a friend, Derek. I’ll see you guys.” I watch her shoot up from her chair and grabbed her bag, rushing out of the library.

I turn to Scott, “Who’s Derek?” Great. That’s one way to sound like a jealous guy. Scott looks over and laughs, “You crushing on my sister?” I shake me head immediately, “No. No, I was just asking ‘cause...” I cut myself off. Why did I?

“Look, I don’t care that you like my sister. But if you’re boning her at this moment, you got to tell me now.” I close my eyes, “I’m not boning your sister, Scott. This is all some... stupid-”

“You’re falling in love with her? Why don’t you tell her? Do you want me to?” Scott asks. I shake my head, “No! Don’t tell her! Don’t tell her anything, I’m not capable of doing that... sort of thing...”

Scott raises a brow, “You mean not capable of accepting your feelings towards her? That’s the problem. If you keep this up, you’re gonna shut her out because of it. You set boundaries and then you start to push them.”

I close my book and slipped it in my bag. “I’m going.” Scott furrows his brows, “What? So, you’re just gonna ignore this whole thing? Not even gonna tell her?”

“I’ll see you at the bar,” Was all I said before leaving him there. Not knowing that my heart in that corner had lit the romance category sign on fire.

Fuck Romance.

“You really fallen for her?” Mallory asks, the boys around smiled. “Well, one day he’s gonna be moving into Scott’s house and he’ll have to listen to them screaming,” Samson says.

I dropped my head on the counter. Fifth drink in hand, I felt a bit tipsy. “I thought Y/N was coming, what going on?” Lyle asks. Scott sighed, “Well, I heard her and Derek were really working on a screenplay at her apartment so we’re going on without her.”

That Derek might get a punch to the face. The thought of her and him in bed. It rotted into my mind and I caved. Lifting up my head, I downed my drink. “Another, please,” I demanded.

After that, I took many more. I was on the edge of throwing up. My friends offered to take me home due to my tipsy stance and slurred words. I just walked away and I had to tell Y/N.

Stumbling up the stairs to her complex, I ended up at the gate. I’ve been to her apartment many times. Not what you think, though. Not yet. I reached for the rocks in the plant box and shouted, “Y/N!”

I then threw the rock. It missed her window but it met it with a loud bang. The lights were on and a shadow appears behind the curtains before Y/N opens her window and spotted me.

God, she was beautiful.

“What are you doing? It’s late?” She asked, I grabbed the bar and leaned in between the two bars. “Where’s that Derek douche? Huh?” Y/N furrows her brows, “What? Are you drunk?” She asked.

Leaning back, holding the bar with one hand, I pointed up at her, “I love you, Y/N.” I swung to the side and slammed into the wall. “Who is that, Y/N? Who are you talking to?” A man asks.

“A friend, he’s drunk and-” I peered up at the man I assumed was Derek and pointed at him. “You! You don’t deserve her! You don’t love her! Sex is better with me!”

“What the hell is he talking about?” Derek asks. Y/N sighs, turning back to me, “It’s not what you think, he’s just-”

“Oh, no!” I cut her off, I began to climb the fence, “I love you! You’re amazing! One of the best people I could ever have,” I belched, “Derek doesn’t deserve you. He doesn’t love you.”

My feet shake and slipped. Y/N gasps as I slam to the ground with a thud. “He’s just a friend! He’s gay, see?” She calls. I stumble onto my feet and panted, “He’s crazy? I’ll beat his ass for whatever he’s done.”

“I’m calling the cops,” Derek says, Y/N grabs his arm, “Don’t. He’s my friend,” She looks down, “I’m coming down! Wait there!” I swiped my hands down my chest as I peered up at Derek.

“Cops... fuck the cops... I...” I felt my head spin and I began to sway. Stumbling at the slightest I felt someone grab my shoulders. My hands instantly grab their forearms and I slowly opened my eyes.

There she stood.

“Hey...” I slurred, she cracks a grin, “Hey.” My hand cups her cheek in an instant, having her to look in my eyes. “I love you... too much...” I slurred. She smiles and placed her hand over mine. “You’re not in the right state,” She says.

I shook my head, “But I’m in the right place... and that’s with you...” Y/N uses her other hand and cups my cheek. This was a sign to give her a kiss. Leaning in, I was intoxicated. Though in my mind, I needed this.

The butterflies were going off in my stomach.

Wait. Shit. Not the right ones. I gagged. Y/N pulls away and takes a step back but her hand goes for my back as I leaned over to the side and got rid of those contents I took down at the bar.

Y/N cringed but she rubbed my back softly. After I finished and spat, she lifts me up gently. “Let me get you cleaned up and you can sleep in my bed.” I didn’t have the chance to say anything, I felt like I couldn’t.

I blew it once I gagged.

Derek was nicely removed from her apartment and she gave me the chance to take a shower. Use a toothbrush under the sink to get the alcohol taste in my mouth that’s been burning inside.

After that, I nodded off.

The next morning, I woke up to the light shining through the window. I noticed the familiar place and realized I was in Y/N’s apartment. I sat up from her bed and stood up.

Walking through her place, I found her in the kitchen. Her head turns to me and she grins, “Morning. I have a pill for you there. I was thinking you should lay off the coffee today so...”

I walked over and reached for the pill and water. “Thank you. And good morning to you.” She looks over and leans on the counter to face me. “You okay?” She asked. I peered up at her, furrowing my brows. For some reason, I just realized how sore my body was.

Oh, yeah. Fell down the fence. “I’m fine... just...” Shit. I zoned out again. Her grin never left her face as she gazed at me. It’s like I lost my hearing to everything around me.

Everything was gone except her. I look over her head to see my heart. Full on suit with a cigarette in his mouth. Smoke emitting from him, he nodded at me. What was he nodding at me for?

Something warm and gentle lands on my side and I look down to see Y/N. Her arm out, touching my waist as she steps closer to me. I felt frozen in time with her. This wasn’t no story or dream I was being told. This was happening.

I placed the glass down and watched her as she raised her other hand to cup my cheek. This is the opportunity. Don’t blow it up with another gag. My hands go to her waist and cheek.

Cupping them gently, her lips part to collide with mine. Fuck, it’s happening. Her lips crash onto mine and I froze. This was something different. It wasn’t wrong. It didn’t feel like the other girls I’ve called and asked for sex.

This gave me the good butterflies. As if we were perfect, our lips just seem to be a perfect fit. It felt so right. I felt love.

The loss of her lips pull away from mine so I opened my eyes. She grinned as she looks up at me. She lightly laughs, “You look sad.” I felt like I needed to hear that again because I didn’t catch it when I got lost in her eyes. But then it came back to me.

“Maybe because you pulled away,” I said.

She laughs, “Well, you almost could’ve thrown up in my face last night if I hadn’t.” I mentally felt embarrassed with that but when she smiled I guess it wasn’t bad. “I’m sorry,” I said.

Y/N shakes her head, “No. I’m glad you came up to say that. But you could’ve said it when you were sober. Would make you less of an idiot,” She says. My eyebrows perk up, “Well, either way I’d make a fool out of myself. I guess I fallen hard for you and got to upset I couldn’t tell you so I did that.”

She smiled, still chest-to-chest with her as she rubbed my side. “I’ve fallen for you, too.” I smiled at her and cupped her cheeks again, pulling her up for a kiss once again.

And that’s how I met the woman. You probably know this story already because...

You were the woman.

~~~

Woah... It’s so weird to break the fourth wall

TAGS: @jtargaryen18 @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @chrisevans-imagines @princess-evans-addict @ifuseekamyevans @bucksgoat @axen-gers @donutloverxo @rororo06 @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @elliee1497 @patzammit @stop-obsessing-over-those-actors @iguessweallcrazyithinktho

Want a tag? Just ask!

#playing it cool #me x reader #chris evans #chris evans x reader #narrator #best movie #rom-com #cevans #steve rogers #2014 #sex is better with me #steve rogers x reader #captain america #evansedit #evans

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rdmdani · 4 years

Text

Heaven Sent a.i.

word count: 2522

---

Usually Y/N would stay in her room during her older brother Luke’s band rehearsal, but today she had no other choice but to go in the garage. She was in desperate need of a hammer to finish up her room and she really didn’t want to wait two hours for his friends to leave. Luke wasn’t too fond of the idea of her meeting his friends, mainly because they’re boys and he's always been overprotective of her. So as she approached the garage, she hoped that Luke wouldn’t be mad at her for coming in.

She waited until they finished the song they were singing before tentatively opening the door, automatically catching the attention of all the boys in the room. Luke looked at her with his eyebrows raised, she could easily see that he was not happy to see her at that very moment. The rest of the boys stared at her like she had three heads, causing Luke to clear his throat and grab their attention once more, “What’s up, Y/N?” he asked it sweetly, as if he was speaking to a five or six year old girl. Her palms clammed up at the attention she was getting, making it difficult to speak.

“I-I needed the hammer,” she practically whispered, keeping her head low and eyes off of the strangers. She heard footsteps and immediately presumed they were Luke’s, but when she looked up she saw a cute boy with curly brown hair, a hammer in his outstretched arm. She kept her eyes locked on his for a few seconds before taking the hammer from him.

“What project are you working on?” he asked in a nice tone, a cheesy smile on his face. Y/N looked to Luke with a panicked look but he didn’t make a move to help her. She should’ve waited until they left and they both knew it.

“I’m hanging my paintings,” she said to the attractive stranger, “I had the nails but forgot to get the hammer before everyone got here…”

“Why didn’t you ask Ben to get it? He’s in the living room with mum,” Luke asked her, walking over to the two and giving a look to Ashton to step back a little, not enjoying the small space between them already.

“He was talking to mum, I didn’t want to bother anyone,” she told him, swinging the hammer by her side slightly, “I waited outside the door for about five minutes so I wouldn’t bother you mid-song…” Luke smiled down at her before ruffling her hair playfully.

“Well you didn’t bother anyone in here, we were just about to start working on a new song,” he told her before kissing her forehead, “Why don’t you go hang your paintings and then after rehearsal we can make popcorn and watch Harry Potter again?” Y/N gave him a giddy smile as she nodded her head.

“Can we have hot chocolate too?” she pouted her lip, knowing that Luke would always say yes to her pout. It was the power of the younger and most innocent sibling.

“Of course, now go on or it’ll take longer for us to get done,” he joked before poking her nose.

As she was leaving she heard the curly haired boys voice again, “Your sister is adorable, Luke.” This caused butterflies to erupt in her stomach and a smile to etch itself onto her lips. She liked him. He was nice.

Y/N started showing up at their rehearsals quite often after that, which Luke slowly got used to. Calum and Michael took to her kind of like a little sister, but even Luke could tell that his little sister had a crush on Ashton. Ashton never really confirmed or rejected the idea that he might like her back, but he definitely acted like it. Luke hated it at first, naturally, but then he saw how much she laughed when Ashton was attempting to teach her how to play the drums. He had never seen his little sister look so happy and comfortable with anyone aside from him, not even Ben and Jack could get her to laugh so much. So little by little, Luke got used to the idea of his sister maybe getting into a relationship one day.

“How old is Y/N?” Calum randomly asked one day while Y/N and Ashton were in the corner talking about her paintings. She was talented, there was no doubt about it, but she was never one to show her art off to anyone. Ever.

“Same as me,” Luke said nonchalantly, causing Michael and Calum to look at him weirdly, “What? She’s about… ten minutes younger than me?” He dismissed it but smiled to himself. He had never told his friends that Y/N was his twin. It never really came up because she was rarely brought up into any conversation until recently.

“Y/N!” Calum called out, causing her to jump, “Is Luke fucking with me or are you two actually twins?”

“Fraternal twins,” she shrugged, “But yes, we are twins.”

“I guess Y/N got the attractive gene,” Michael joked, bringing bright red blush to the girl’s face. Ashton watched her with a content smile on his face, completely taken by her. He wasn’t too fond of Michael making flirtatious jokes about her, but he loved the outcome.

“Shut up, asshole,” Luke scoffed, shoving his friend.

“Luke,” Y/N chastised with a displeased frown, “Language mister!”

“Sorry!”

“It is just a party, Luke,” Y/N whined as she walked to her car, her brother following close behind her, “Mum said it was fine, why can’t you just back off a bit?”

Luke looked at her with widened eyes, she never acted like this towards him. They were always really close and usually she wouldn’t go anywhere without him. But here she is in a short dress and heels, getting into her car and going to some party a guy invited her to.

“Because unlike mum, I am a dude and know what dudes think. Can’t you at least change or something? Or let me come with you?” he plead as she threw her purse into the passenger side window.

“No because when you go away on tour and leave me behind, I’ll have to do stuff alone anyways,” she said stubbornly, getting into her car without another look at him.

“Y/N get out of the car or I swear to God I will lose my mind,” he said sternly, standing in the yard with his arms crossed, staring down at her. She paused for a second, not liking the fact that their fighting for the first time in their life. But she had to do this for herself. She had to try to get out there and make friends that won’t be getting famous and leaving her behind for months on end while she sat at home all by herself.

So instead she looked him dead in the eyes and said, “Then lose it,” before driving off.

Yeah she regretted her decision. She was never a party person and she knew it. Y/N realized the second that she walked into the house that this entire thing was just some cry for help about Luke getting more and more famous. She thought that they were going to be around each other forever but with each passing day she realized that was probably not going to happen in this lifetime. So here she was at this strangers party, surrounded by people who smelled like marijuana and alcohol, feeling like the walls were going to close in on her at any moment.

She took a breath and then stepped forward towards the kitchen, she counted each step she took, wanting to know the exact number of steps it took for her to feel like she could breathe again. The kitchen was just about empty, only two or three people in total. 23 steps to the kitchen and she could finally breathe again. She opened the cooler on the counter and pulled out the first drink that she could reach and gulped it down as quick as she could. The taste was almost sour, but it was bearable. So once it was finished, she chugged another. Then some weird beer… and then she felt fine.

She stepped out of the kitchen with glossy eyes, feeling like she was floating five inches above the floor (it was just her heels). People looked at her weirdly, knowing her from school as the quiet innocent girl. Seeing her here was odd, seeing her drunk and wearing a short dress was even weirder. Y/N couldn’t care less at that moment. She just wanted to dance.

She grabbed the closest person that she could and let loose for once in her life. They danced for what seemed like hours before he tugged her hand, asking if she wanted to talk upstairs. Y/N, the innocent girl that she is, agreed and followed along with him with bleary eyes. Honestly she had no idea what she was doing at this point. Whatever she drank earlier was finally getting to her and she was definitely going to crash soon. So when they got to an empty room, she laid on the bed and laughed loudly.

“My brother’s going to kill me when he finds out I got drunk,” she couldn’t stop giggling, which made the boy look at her with a creepy smile. Then, when she saw his unbuttoned shirt and unzipped jeans, she sobered up and realized what the fuck she just got herself into.

“Oh…” she gulped, looking up at the boy with lost eyes, “We are not on the same page here. We’re not doing...that.”

“You just grinded on me for the last hour and you’re going to tell me you’re not going to do anything about this?” he gestured to himself, which caused Y/N to drunkenly giggle.

“Yes,” she said in a slur, “That is exactly what I am saying. I guess we are on the same page!”

The boy groaned before dropping himself on the bed beside her, “Can we pretend you did so I don’t have to admit to myself it was actually the boy dancing beside us that got me hard instead of you?” Y/N made eye contact with the boy before they both burst out laughing.

“I knew it! I knew that I would pick the one gay guy in the entire party!” Y/N snorted as the two of them struggled to catch their breaths.

“I’m actually bi, thank you very much,” he said in a sassy tone, flicking his non-existent locks. Neither of them believed that, but they didn’t speak on it any further.

“We stan a queen,” she giggles, “So you’re into the boy who was dancing beside us, and I’m into my brother’s best friend. Aren’t we the lucky ones?” Suddenly tears were brought to her eyes, “And both my brother and his best friend are going to leave me because they’re stupid talented and have a cool band!”

The strange boy’s eyes widened at her before enveloping her in a tight hug, “Oh honey, it’ll be okay…” he cooed into her hair.

“What’s your name?” Y/N hiccuped as she looked up at the boy.

“Alec, you?”

“I-” suddenly the burst down, revealing Ashton and Micheal behind it. They stormed into the room and pulled Y/N and Alec apart. Ashton held her to his chest, worriedly checking her for bruises while holding her face in his hands. Michael was threatening Alec in the opposite corner which caused Y/N to struggle against Ashton.

“Hey! Leave my friend alone, Mikey!” she shouted, surprising the intruders.

“We thought you were-”

“Yeah yeah. You thought I was in trouble,” she scoffed at Michael, “For a second I thought I was too, but Alec isn’t into me. He likes the dude who was dancing beside us!” it was clear to everyone in the room that Y/N was way too wasted to be having any conversation at the moment, so Ashton tucked her underneath his arm and smiled down at her nicely.

“Hey sweetie, want to go get chicken nuggets and I take you home?”

“Guessing you’re the brother’s best friend?” Alec asked Michael, checking him up and down before looking at Y/N, “I approve.” Y/N shook her head at him, “No no,” she slurred, “Not that one, this one!” she pointed up at Ashton who continued to look down at her with soft caring eyes. When she looked up at him she couldn’t help but awe at him, “He’s just so gorgeous, don’t you think Alec?” Ashton giggled at her and poked her nose.

“You need to sober up, love,” he spoke, starting to walk her out of the room.

“Mikey! Get his number for me! We are going to be best friends Alec!”

She could hear the laughter of her friends, but at that moment all she cared about was how good Ashton smelled at that very moment.

She passed out in his car before they even got to McDonalds. It was already 4am so he texted Luke asking what he should do. Luke obviously didn’t want Ben, Jack, or their parents to wake up and find out that his little sister got blackout drunk at some party and was found in the bed with a half naked guy (but don’t worry he wasn’t into her!), so he told Ashton to just let her crash at his place because it was easier to sneak people into Ashton’s house rather than his, plus everyone was coming over in the morning to Ashton’s and Luke could play it like she left early.

So Ashton did as he was told and placed Y/N softly on his bed before grabbing a pillow and starting to lay on the floor.

“Ashton?” Y/N called out with the most innocent tone he’d ever heard, “Can you lay with me please? I usually have a teddy bear or something…” she did, but that wasn’t the reason she wanted him to lay with her. She wanted to cuddle him. It was her dream to cuddle Ashton.

“Of course, baby girl,” he laughed before crawling into bed with her. The way he spoke made chllls go down her spine. His voice was heaven sent… God took his time making sure that every last thing was perfect about this boy and she knew it. He laid on top of the covers and kept his shorts and shirt on, knowing that Luke would murder him if he found them otherwise. Y/N snuggled to Ashton, feeling herself losing consciousness faster than she ever has before. But she had something to say before the drunk confidence wore off.

“I really like you,” she said, “Like wanna kiss you like you… have since we met.”

Ashton giggled, “I know,” he admitted, “I like you too.”

She shot up and looked at him, “You do?”

“Of course I do, now go to sleep.” She didn’t protest at all, instead she just laid her head down and fell asleep with a smile on her face.

He liked her too.

----

Also when she woke up, she had a message from an unknown number that said, “Yo I fucked the other friend is that cool?”

#ashton 5sos #ashton fletcher irwin #ashton irwin #ashton irwin fanfic #ashton irwin smut #ashton irwin fluff #luke hemmings fanfic #luke hemmings #5sos #5 seconds of summer #fanfiction #calum hood fanfic #calum hood #michael clifford fanfic #michael clifford #writer #romance #writers of tumblr

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badwolfwrites-sometimes · 4 years

Text

Drawn Together: Chapter 13

!!WARNING!! This chapter includes slurs and homophobia, please proceed with caution.

Artisloveandlife: Ludwig I have a question Artisloveandlife: Do zombies get smarter after they eat a human brain?

Feliciano had no idea why he was asking that kind of question to a person he met yesterday. He has been cleaning the kitchen, as one does, when it suddenly popped into his head.

'Well, nothing in my life makes sense anymore so it's fine.' He thought, but quickly snapped out of his daze as Antonio entered with Lovino.

"I can't believe you got Feli to clean up the kitchen. This day is going down in history!" Lovino said, throwing his arms in the air as if he was thanking God for this blessing.

Antonio kissed his cheek. "He's doing a very good job at it, be nicer to him." Lovino almost chocked at that comment.

Feliciano chose not to comment anything on it and instead handed Lovino a deck brush, daring to suggest his brother actually does some work. "You're always telling me to be useful, set me a good example." He smiled before receiving a smack to his shoulder. "Ow!"

"Sassy bastard!" Lovino said, but grabbed the brush anyway. If Feliciano wants him to work, he's going to work and he'll work better than anyone.

That being said, it took him less than a minute to give up and pass the brush to Romeo, who had the unfortunate luck to show up in a very unfortunate moment. "Nonno'll be here any second and you're much faster than me." Is the reasoning Romeo got behind this sudden job. This meant that everyone, aside from Lovino, had something to do.

It was around 9 p. m. when they were finished with the chores, and just on time it seems.

"My boys! Where are you? Come greet your old grandpa!" A deep melodic voice sounded off from the hall, just as the three of them sat down. The youngest two were, naturally, the first to sprint towards their grandpa. He couldn't lift them up as he used to, but it didn't bother them much.

"Nonno!" Feliciano squeeled, glad to have him home finally.

"How was the trip, Nonno? Did you bring us presents?" Romeo asked, cuddling close to the old man still breathing with life.

"Meo, that's rude." Feliciano remarked.

"I did ask how the trip went first." Romeo defended.

Their grandpa just laughed the whole thing off, glad that his boys never change. His eyes scanned around for Lovino, finding him standing by the doorframe, looking quite uncertain. He smiled to his eldest grandson before turning his attention back to the two in front of him. "Now, now. Don't fight over such silly things. Of course I brought presents for my lovely boys."

Both Romeo's and Feliciano's eyes glowed, going back to hug their grandpa much stronger this time, just as Feliciano felt his phone vibrate, reminding him of the happiness of this moment. They finally let their grandpa free to check for presents.

"Welcome home, Mr. Vargas." Antonio greeted, joining Lovino by the doorframe.

"Oh, Toni. I didn't know you are here as well. And cut the formality already, just call me Grandpa Rome." Grandpa Rome said, shaking Antonio's hand and patting him on the shoulder, before turning his attention to Lovino. "Lovi, my beautiful boy, come give your grandpa a hug." He said and pulled the reluctant Lovino in for a hug. "You look worried, did the dinner come out bad? You know your grandpa will eat anything you boys make, isn't that right?"

Lovino laughed. He needed that, even if that wasn't what has been bothering him. "Yeah... You always ate our weird shit." He said.

"That's right." Grandpa Rome smiled. "Now chin up and fix your language, my boy." And the three of them left for the kitchen.

Grandpa Rome told them all kinds of stories on the dinner table, entertaining them as they ate, but Feliciano could sense a weird vibe from Lovino. The one he usually felt just as Lovino was about to break down and cry. And he wasn't the only one who could feel it. Antonio had been secretly holding Lovino's hand underneath the table this whole time.

"You know, you wouldn't believe how full of faggots Europe is." Grandpa Rome said, startling the four of them. "At this point, you can't even walk down the street without running into one of them."

Feliciano's eyes immediately raced towards Lovino. Lovino just looked down at his plate, silently begging his grandpa to stop. It was all so wrong. Even Romeo sensed something wasn't quite right and he had no idea what was going on. Silence fell upon them.

Antonio chose to break it first. "You know Mr. Vargas, that's not really a nice word." He looked unsure, the moment those words left his mouth he regretted them.

Grandpa Rome gave him a side eye and Feliciano knew it was all going to go downhill from now on, yet he spoke. "Toni's right. We're all human and we should be respectful of each other." Feliciano wasn't known for his courage much, but this was different. This was about his brother.

Grandpa Rome kept quiet, taking a few bites of his dinner before so obviously deciding he didn't like it anymore. "Is there something you want to tell me, Feli?" He finally spoke, his words harsh and crushing Lovino's heart.

Feliciano just shook his head, offering one final glance towards Lovino before he let his head fall down to look at his hands. He shouldn't have done that, because as soon as he looked at Lovino, Grandpa Rome noticed. Romeo really wanted to excuse himself by this point.

As he felt deep chocolate brown eyes staring deeply into his soul, Lovino looked back at them, tears already welling up in his hazel eyes. Can this be over already? He stared into his grandpa's eyes for what felt like ages, before Grandpa Rome spoke. "And you, Lovi? What do you have with the faggots?"

Lovino doesn't break the eye contact, but it was Antonio who answered. "We're together. Me and Lovi, we're dating." Lovino wasted no time in running away from the table. The secret was out, his life was over.

Grandpa Rome stared at Antonio in a way that made Feliciano and Romeo want to sink further down in their seats. Their grandpa never looked at anyone like that. "My own grandson..." Grandpa Rome said in utter disbelief before getting up and walking towards Antonio who stood up. "I expected more from him. I expected more from you, Antonio." His voice was coated in disgust.

Antonio kept his stare firm on Grandpa Rome's eyes, his face serious. "Then you shouldn't have made him so perfect." Antonio said calmly, but he was more afraid than ever before.

Feliciano clutched his phone, hoping Lovino or Ludwig or Elizabeta or anyone would send him a text to let him know everything will be fine. Because right now, everything wasn't fine. Romeo held Feliciano's yellow sweater, hoping the same as he drew himself closer to his brother.

"Get out." Grandpa Rome said. "Get out and don't you dare come back to this house again, Antonio!" He shoved Antonio aside and left the kitchen, the three of them hoping he wouldn't go find Lovino.

Feliciano tore away from Romeo, running towards Antonio for a hug. His heart was breaking as he felt Antonio tremble under his arms, but he still lifted his hands to pet Feliciano's brown hair.

"I'm sorry, Toni." Feliciano whispered. Romeo left his seat to join the hug. "I'm really sorry." Feliciano said.

Antonio smiled, his eyes betraying his real emotion, but refused to let Feliciano and Romeo see them. He had to keep his tears for himself. "Take good care of him for me, will you both?" He asked.

They both nodded and Antonio broke the hug, making his way out of the house. As he did, he stopped and looked up towards Lovino's room, no doubt thinking that's where Lovino most likely run off to. He whispered something before leaving, not looking back. Feliciano could swear on his entire art career that Antonio's final words before leaving were directed towards Lovino. A silent 'I love you.'

Feliciano and Romeo cuddled up on the couch. They could only wait now for either Lovino or Grandpa Rome to come back down now.

"I had no idea..." Romeo whispered.

Feliciano nodded. "I found out accidentally. It wasn't supposed to come out like this." He said. "Sorry for not telling you, Lovi told me to keep it quiet."

"I get it." Romeo wiped at something close to his eye and Feliciano begged the world it wasn't a tear. "This is a bad place for being gay. If it was elsewhere in the world, I would have thrown a coming out party."

Feliciano laughed. "If it was elsewhere, we'd get to watch Lovi get so drunk we'd have to carry him back to his room."

"He'd be less grumpy too."

"That's Lovi, he's always grumpy." Feliciano said, dwelling deep into his thoughts. "Now that you mention it, he seemed a lot more happier these past few days that he spent with Toni."

Romeo was silent.

"I wish they could be happy forever." Feliciano commented, finally allowing himself to cry. Oh, how he needed to cry.

After a while, Romeo had enough of waiting and went up to his room to get his mind off everything that happened that night. Feliciano completely understood, he wanted to run away to his room as well, but doing that would only make Grandpa Rome angrier. At least his battery wasn't completely drained.

For the first time that night, Feliciano read Ludwig's message.

Lutzie71: Logically yes, but in practice no.

Artisloveandlife: Hahahahahahah Artisloveandlife: Thanks i needed that

It was well past midnight, Feliciano didn't expect a response from Ludwig anytime soon, but once he started climbing the stairs back to his room, his phone vibrated.

Lutzie71: I hope you are alright, whatever it is.

Somehow, those few words from a stranger meant more to Feliciano than anything his closest friends ever said to him. It could be that the situation was really tough and he needed some assurance, or he just didn't have friends who cared much. It didn't matter, he just needed those words.

Artisloveandlife: Thank you Artisloveandlife: Im alright but my brother isnt Artisloveandlife: And i want to help but i dont know how

Lutzie71: Sometimes just being by their side is enough Lutzie71: My brother used to read to me whenever I upset Lutzie71: Maybe something similar could help

Artisloveandlife: Id sneak into his bedroom when i had nightmares and sleep with him Artisloveandlife: Hed be mad at me but then he would tell me that its all going to be okay and that he ll protect me

Lutzie71: Maybe this time you should be the one to protect him

Artisloveandlife: Thank you Ludwig Artisloveandlife: Also sorry for not answering for a while Artisloveandlife: We ve been cleaning all day and then the whole thing with my brother happened it was a crazy day

Lutzie71: It is alright Lutzie71: I don't mind waiting

Artisloveandlife: You didnt stay glued to the phone all this tine waiting for my reply did you ??

Lutzie71: You can't prove anything

Artisloveandlife: Your so cute Artisloveandlife: You re*

Lutzie71: You learn quickly

Artisloveandlife: I was a str8 A student Artisloveandlife: Jk i failed math Artisloveandlife: But i lived

Lutzie71: Yes life is important, but do you know what else is important?

Artisloveandlife: What

Lutzie71: Knowing the quadratic formula

Artisloveandlife: Meanie Artisloveandlife: Im an artist its all about the feeling not finding x Artisloveandlife: Ive been single since birth i dont even have an x

Lutzie71: Poor you Lutzie71: Although I must admit my dating skills aren't exactly the best either

Artisloveandlife: Forever alone club

Lutzie71: Indeed

Artisloveandlife: My battery is about to die so i guess this is goodbye for now Artisloveandlife: Ill go and try to take care of my brother but i doubt ill be successful Artisloveandlife: Ttyl Ludwig

Lutzie71: Will you ever tell me what it means? Lutzie71: Best of luck to you and your brother

Artisloveandlife: What ??

Lutzie71: What does ttyl mean?

Artisloveandlife: Talk to you later

Lutzie71: Well... that makes sense Lutzie71: Ttyl, goodnight Feliciano

Artisloveandlife: Nighty night Ludwig

As soon as he sent that message, his battery died. Sighing, Feliciano climbed up the stairs to Lovino's room.

Lovino's and Romeo's rooms were both on the 3rd floor, above Grandpa Rome's room and a guest room. The good thing was that each floor also had their own toilet, so there was no need for a race to who needs it the most. What was specific to the 3rd floor was that it was the only one with the bathtub.

Lovino's room was on the right side of the hall, directly above Grandpa Rome's room, so Feliciano suspected that Lovino wouldn't cry too loud and anger Grandpa even more. Feliciano also didn't believe that Grandpa hated non-straight people, he must have been feeling just a bit under the weather and this would all be settled properly soon. He hoped it to be true.

Feliciano slowly entered Lovino's room. "Lovi? Are you asleep?" He whispered.

Lovino just shuffled around in his bed, hiding his face away with the pillow and his back turned to Feliciano. Feliciano entered the room and crawled into Lovino's bed. "Can I sleep with you tonight?" Feliciano asked.

"Sure..." Came a soft answer, Lovino's voice numb from crying.

"Thanks." Feliciano cuddled close to his brother, just like they used to be back in the day. "Hey Lovi?" He called after a few minutes.

"Hm?" Lovino answered.

"I made a new friend."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm. Do you remember Lizzie from Middle school?"

"The one who used to do your biology homework?"

"Yes! That's her." Feliciano laughed at the memory. "She got married, you know. And she introduced me to her husband's cousin."

"Okay." Lovino said.

"He liked my art that I made for that book, but you know what?"

"What?"

"He's Ludwig. He's the author of the book. And he's my friend."

Silence.

"Why are you telling me this? You know I hate Germans." Lovino asked, turning around to face his brother, his eyes were red from the tears.

"I know. And I thought that if I told you that, you would focus more on your hatred towards them and the pain from the dinner will go away." Feliciano answered.

Lovino was silent yet again. He really did need to focus on something else and not that dreadful dinner. It was just so hard knowing that, after tonight, he couldn't see his beloved for who knows how long.

"Let's just sleep, Feli. No Germans, no dinners, just sleep." Lovino finally said, turning around once again and falling asleep as if he was dying.

Feliciano followed suit, but in the final moments before drifting away to sleep, his mind raced towards Ludwig's words to him. Unlike his brother, Feliciano fell asleep with a smile.

The next few days were extremely heavy on the Vargas family. Romeo would often run off somewhere, anywhere just to be away from the house. Grandpa Rome and Lovino refused to talk to each other face to face, with Lovino barely ever leaving his room. Any kind of communication was passed around through Feliciano, and Feliciano had a short living memory, meaning that most of the information trusted upon him to deliver was forgotten.

When he wasn't serving as carrier pigeon to his grandpa and brother, Feliciano entertained himself by talking to Ludwig. It was all still very casual; a few weather comparisons, talking about books and stuff like that. Occasionally, however, Feliciano would send Ludwig something which the former swore made the latter hate and love him at the same time.

Artisloveandlife: So if i were to duplicate myself would the other me get all the information i am getting or do i need to pass it in some way Artisloveandlife: Like if i learned that the chicken came before the egg would the other me know it instantly or do i need to teach them

Lutzie71: You would probably have to teach them Lutzie71: Also egg should come first considering that many species before chickens used eggs for their offspring

Artisloveandlife: How ??

Lutzie71: Well dinosaurs were hatched from eggs and, through evolution, a chicken was born

Artisloveandlife: But what about the chicken egg ??

Lutzie71: Well, with every new species new genes were developed and passed down, but theory egg is always first

Artisloveandlife: But who laid the egg ??

Lutzie71: A T-Rex

Artisloveandlife: Oh

There were other occasions when Feliciano would get too philosophical and Ludwig played along.

Artisloveandlife: I dont understand why we have arms Artisloveandlife: I mean i get it for grabbing stuff and all but Artisloveandlife: Why couldnt it have been something completely else

Lutzie71: Probably because arms were the easiest to develop Lutzie71: They are just upper legs

Artisloveandlife: Oh Artisloveandlife: Why do we have feelings

Lutzie71: Well, what you call feelings might not be feelings at all but emotions Lutzie71: Emotions come from your brain and they stir up some hormones you mistake for feelings Lutzie71: Or it could be nerves like when you touch something cold you would feel cold

Artisloveandlife: So we re kinda like robots

Lutzie71: Yes and no Lutzie71: Robots don't need emotions

Sometimes, they just talked for hours, until one of them fell asleep or their battery died.

Artisloveandlife: Ludwig what kind of movies do you like Artisloveandlife: Im looking for something to watch

Lutzie71: I don't really watch movies, but I like historical dramas Lutzie71: I guess the best example for that would be Saving Private Ryan

Artisloveandlife: Oh i like that genre too Artisloveandlife: I like romance and comedy the most but not really romcoms Artisloveandlife: And my fave historical movie is national treasure

Lutzie71: Can that even be considered a historical movie

Artisloveandlife: Ofc it can Artisloveandlife: I passed my american history exam because of that movie

Lutzie71: First part or the second part?

Artisloveandlife: Theres a 2nd part ??? Artisloveandlife: Wth ive never seen it Artisloveandlife: Now i know what to watch tnx

Lutzie71: I should probably rewatch it as well I've forgotten most of the plot

Artisloveandlife: We could watch it together Artisloveandlife: I think thered an app that lets you watch movies and talk to each othrr

Lutzie71: Are you alright?

Artisloveandlife: Yeah why

Lutzie71: You had a lot of mistakes

Artisloveandlife: Oh that Artisloveandlife: I have big fingers and no autocorrect

Lutzie71: I see Lutzie71: About the app, why don't we just use Skype or other methods Lutzie71: I have never heard of the app that lets you watch movies and talk at the same time

Artisloveandlife: There should be some on app store as far as i know Artisloveandlife: Gotta go now its pigeon time Artisloveandlife: Ttyl Ludwig

Lutzie71: Skree skree Feliciano

That day the tension between his family was at it's peak. It was time for Grandpa Rome to leave again, this time for France, and he still hasn't made peace with Lovino.

"Nonno, you're not going to change anything by not accepting him. He's still going to love Toni." Feliciano tried to convince his grandpa for who knows what time this week. "Just get over it and let him be happy."

"You don't understand it, Feli." Grandpa Rome slapped his fist on the suitcase. "It's unnatural. It's dangerous. And he just can't be happy like that."

Feliciano sighed. "Why do you think that? Why can't he be happy? You haven't seen him with Toni the way I did." He wiped at the tear threatening to fall from his brown eyes. "I haven't seen him that happy since I finished High school. Nonno, please, just let him have that."

"He could get hurt, Feliciano! And neither you nor he understand that!"

"He could only get hurt if he's alone!" Feliciano yelled. "And right now that's exactly what he is. He's alone and hurting and Toni understands and cares for him. Lovi needs him, Nonno. No matter what anyone of us believes in."

"It's wrong, Feliciano!"

"Even if it was, what you're doing is wrong too!"

Silence fell upon them. Feliciano took it as an opportunity to calm down and breathe. He hated fighting, even if it was necessary. He just wanted everyone to accept and love each other, even if they didn't understand each other. "It's not all black and white, Nonno, and for Lovi being gay is completely white. Don't be that black spot that ruins everything. Lovi is still painting his life, staining it..." He whispered. "Staining it would ruin everything. And no one wants that."

Grandpa Rome kept quiet. Feliciano continued. "Do some research, Nonno. You don't have to understand it, but if you love Lovi, tell him. Accept him and learn because you love him and you want to protect him." After that, Feliciano left Grandpa Rome standing over his suitcase in his room.

Lovino never came downstairs to say goodbye to his grandpa. No one blamed him, this was one hell of a week and everyone wanted things to go back to normal. Romeo and Feliciano parted with Grandpa Rome, but before Feliciano could return to the house, Grandpa Rome placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Tell Lovino that I love him for me." Grandpa Rome said and Feliciano nodded. "And tell Toni he can come and visit, but I want him out of the house by 9 p.m." Feliciano's smile grew as he said that, nodding much more intense than before. This was progress.

Grandpa Rome left after that and Feliciano happily returned to the house, immediately racing towards Lovino's room to pass him the news.

Artisloveandlife: I DID IT!!!

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mayhemcj · 5 years

Text

Pyro ~ Diego Hagreeves x Male!Reader

Request: Is it possible to do a diego X male reader between him and one of the other 40+ kids, I can't remember the exact number at this moment, who were born with powers. Diego found him and is helping him come to terms with his abilities and both characters realize they are bi and really in love with each other

A/N: I love this concept so much,, thank you for requesting! I started with backstory then reader and Diego are 16, I'm going to make a part 2 to this! I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Homophobic mentions (no slurs), cursing, abusive language (very brief)

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

Your mother didn’t tell you you were like the kids from The Umbrella Academy until you were 11.

She told you about the old man that came to her when she gave birth at 19, with no previous signs of pregnancy. Obviously she said no. “Who the hell gives away their own child like that?” Apparently the man, Mr. Hargreeves, offered her a lot of money. “He has a gift, and I want to be able to nurture that gift, and I don’t believe you’d be able to do that.” Your mother told you she almost punched him in the nose when he said that. Sure, since there wasn’t a father, it was a bit harder, but she still kept you. She loved you, no matter what. Even if you set things on fire sometimes.

Your powers didn’t really show until you were a toddler. It was only small things at that point; Melting your rubber spoon when your food wasn’t to your liking, heating up your drinks when they got cold, although you’d end up burning the plastic to those cups too. You didn’t have too much control over it then, but your powers didn’t show up much either. You were a good kid, your mother told you. You didn’t throw tantrums, you didn’t fight with your mom or your grandparents.

It only truly got out of control when you had a panic attack at 16.

You recently came out to your mom, and she was very supportive of you.

Your grandmother, however, was not.

After going to her apartment, and telling her you weren’t exactly straight, she lost her shit.

She called you a sinner, going against god(s), not to mention her yelling slurs. She kept yelling and screaming, telling you how awful you were that you liked the same gender.

You felt your face and hands heat up as your eyes started to water. You stood up from your chair and tried to walk out the front door, but your grandmother grabbed your arm.

“Don’t you walk away from me, I’m talking to you!”

“Let me go!”

"Sit your ass down!!"

"NO!"

Your vision went dark, feeling white hot heat from your hands. You heard screams, but they were fogged in your head.

When you opened your eyes, the apartment was on fire. You couldn't see your grandmother anymore. You were surrounded by fire, but you didn't really feel it. You felt.. powerful.

And it scared the shit out of you.

You ran out the apartment door, going down the stairs as fast as you possibly could.

Before you could go out the front door to the now burning apartment building, you heard sirens. You couldn't tell if it was police or firetrucks, or even ambulances, but you went out the nearby alley way door.

You shoved open the door, a puff of dark grey smoke going out with you. You looked around, and after not seeing anyone around, you went to get as far away from here as possible. That is, until you heard a voice from behind you.

"H-Hey! Wh-Who are you? Are you alright?

You turned back around to see a boy, probably around your age, jogging up to you. He was wearing a black suit and mask that covered less than half of his face.

"Pl-please, stay away from me. I-I don't want to hurt you.."

You spoke quietly, taking steps back away from the teen.

You saw a look of realization cross his face before he frowned.

"D-did.. Did you do th-this?" He asked in a small voice, gesturing lightly to the buiding across from them.

"I... I don't know.." You said even quieter, looking down to your hands.

"Ok-ay. Are y-you hurt?" The boy asked, taking small steps towards you again.

"No, I-I don't think so.." You thought back to your grandmother grabbing your wrist, and pulled up your sleeve slightly to see nail marks and small bruises that surrounded them.

The other boy saw the small wounds, trying to come closer.

"C-Can I ask what happened?" He asked, reaching to your arm, but stepping back when you pulled your arm back.

You started tearing up again and turned away. "I.. My grandmother started to yell at me.. I-I didn't want this to happen.. I can't.. I can't control it."

The boy frowned again. "C-Can I get you to an ambulance? Just get you ch-checked out?"

You swallowed and thought for a moment before shaking your head. "I.. I can't go over there.."

"It's o-okay, uh.." The boy seemed to think for a moment as well, looking back to the burning building, the fire now starting to be put out. "D-Do you think you could go somewhere safer? M-My mom is v-very good at first aid, we could help you m-more there."

You stared at the boy, thinking about the offer he gave you, still holding your writst.

You nodded slightly, carefully dropping your arm to your side.

"What's your name?" You asked, pulling your sleeve back down.

"Uh.. Diego. Y-Yours?"

"Y/N." You said after a moment, thinking that 'Diego' suited the teen. "So.. Are you like me?"

```````

After Diego ran back around the building and came back to you, you two started to walk back to his house. It didn't take long, considering the Academy walked to the complex in the first place. Diego pushed open the gate to the absolute -mansion- he apparently lived in, holding the front door open for you. You nodded to him as a thanks, looking at the interior to his home.

"Mom!" Diego yelled out after closing the front door. Nearly immediately, a woman with blonde hair that looked like a pin-up came into the front room.

"Diego? Who's this?" The woman asked, looking at you before shifting her gaze to Diego.

"He was in that fire, on 6th? He n-needs help.."

The woman frowned slightly and looked back to you, nodding. "Follow me, dear."

The lady walked you and Diego to a room not too far from where you were, making small talk on the way. She lead you into a small room and sat you down on a table before leaving the room again, keeping Diego with you.

"I-It'll be okay, I p-promise she'll take care of you." Diego reassured, placing his hand next to you.

You let out a breath when Diego's mom came back into the room with what you assumed to be a first aid kit. She set it on the counter next to you, asking to see the wound Diego mentioned.

After she cleaned your wound and your face from ash residue, making more small talk during it, you learned a bit more about the academy; Specifically Diego.

You immediately started to admire him a bit after knowing him more (and unbenownst to you, Diego admired you as well), and his mom was lovely, and took care of you well.

Diego gave you a small tour of the house before going to his room; You were still shaken up, so he just told you funny stories about his siblings (mainly Klaus but I won't @ him).

His siblings came home after about 2 hours, and he went down to talk to them, leaving you in his room. After coming back up, he told you everyone that was in the building was okay. No casualties.

You let out a huge breath of relief. But that meant your grandmother was still somewhere there; She remembers what happened.

You wiped at your eyes and put your head in your hands.

Diego went to sit next to you, rubbing your back. "C-Can I ask what happened now?"

You sniffed and looked up to him. "M-my uh.. My grandma.. She didn't react well when.. when I uh.." You paused. You really only told your mom and grandmother at this point that you were queer, and half of that party reacted horribly. Diego seemed nice enough, but..

"..Came out?" Diego said quietly, tilting his head.

You swallowed and nodded. "How did you know?"

"Other gays have good gaydar." Diego commented, laughing quietly, making you chuckle as well before realizing,

"You're gay?" You asked, a bit surprised (but not really).

Diego nodded, "Well, bisexual, but definetley not straight." He smiled again.

"Oh.. Me too." You responded, smiling again.

````````````

Grace walked into Diego's room a little while later. "Diego? I made you and your friend-- Oh."

She stopped in her tracks when she peeked into the doorway, seeing you and Diego dead asleep, your head rested on Diego's shoulder. Grace smiled lightly, setting the plate of sandwiches she planned to give you two on Diego's desk, carefully walking over and placing a blanket over the both of you.

"Cuties.." Grace whispered to herself, closing the door slightly before quietly walking back down the hall.

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

A/N: Sorry of the end was a bit abrupt or if this was just overall bad, I wasn't sure how to end it and wanted to get another fic request out. Again, I'm planning to put out a part two to this! Thanks for reading Xx

#diego hargreeves x male reader #diego hargreeves #bi diego hargreeves #male reader #x male reader #tua #the umbrella academy

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the-sanders-sides · 5 years

Text

inidan american (desi) logan

a sequel to this post because people asked for more and i decided that they shall receive (and also i love writing these)

fair warning, logans a bitter kid, and this isnt as positive and happy as romans post. ive experienced two different ways of being desi, one where i lived in fully asian and indian community and didnt even think id ever feel alone, and another where i moved to a place where i havent met another desi in like 7 years of living here in a 3 hour driving radius. in romans post i played into my first experience and how at home i felt. in the second experience, the one im in right now, i am much more bitter about who i am and not really knowing anyone who gets it anymore. so i play into that A LOT in this. so keep that in mind. (and he will get happier in a future part. m planning on making this into a series)

ok so first off. his name is logan sanders. people (mostly other indians) dont believe him when he tells them. he tells them they dont know indian history. they say they do. he tells them that the british fucked around (quite literally) in india for four centuries so of course english names would stick with that precise wording

sometimes when he’s annoyed enough and doesnt want to explain this for the millionth he defends himself with this russel peters skit (watch it, it’s hilarious) because it describes his family. to a T.

he grew up in a community with not very many asians, and knew no indians outside his family so he felt a sort of disconnect to his culture

while his grandparents and parents would teach him about indian culture, he felt so distant from it since he knew no one outside his family who was indian, and since he didnt have any siblings or any nearby cousins to hang around with

he had visited india once but he was too young to remember it properly or too remember his cousins

the closest mandir was an hour away so that also limited the amount of indian kids/people he knew

he barely knew hindi because everyone in his family spoke english, especially in public

he felt guilty over the disconnect he felt and would always try to bridge it but would never accomplish this because it he kept losing passion since he rarely saw other people like him in the real world and in the media and he didnt see the point of trying

this all changed in eight grade when he moved next door to the Kumar family in a north indian street of some south asian blocks in an asian community

when his family first moved, the Kumar family invited the Sanders over to welcome them

it turns out the Kumar’s had a son who was the same age as logan

“hi logan! im rohan kumar! but i like going by roman instead of rohan!”

this introduction pissed logan off

he was seething because why would this kid who got to have an indian first AND last name change his name to an english one! why didnt he see the value of his name!

he knew right away that such a difference meant they could never be friends

“im logan sanders, but thats all youll get to know about me because i see no use associating myself with someone as... well, ignorant, as you”

roman decides to whip out one of the swears his cousins taught him and whisper shouts “who are you calling ignorant, bhenchod?”

it became clear to him that this was new turf, and people on this new turf must be speaking hindi. and that he was the ignorant one if he couldnt talk in hindi. he made a vow to learn it as fast as he could to make sure this roman kid wasnt better than him

but, logan grits his teeth and says “you, and i know it must be true because you were too dumb to understand me the first time”

this evidently struck a sore spot in roman because he didnt fight back but just stalked away. logan smiled slightly, happy to have won that argument

logan asks his grandpa to teach him hindi and his grandpa gets super excited

they start lessons immediately and despite barely hearing it growing up, it’s as if his brain was made for this because he picks the language up amazingly fast and in a months time, while not able to speak back yet, he can understand most casual conversation

his first diwali in basically little india is the most magical thing ever

diwali at his old home was very quiet because there wasnt anyone around to celebrate with

everyone is so happy in this new home however. everyone is dressed up and all the houses are lit up and there are diyas everywhere and he doesnt want to admit it but the kumar’s have the best rangoli on the street and it’s because of roman and he knows roman did it because sometimes he’d stare out of his bedroom window while doing homework and have a perfect view of roman delicately working on it for two weeks

(the kumar’s front porch had been covered with tarp waiting for diwali to make sure romans precious rangoli wasnt stepped on or ruined. when it’s finally let up, everywhere where there could be art, there is. it’s insane how good at colors roman is, logan thinks)

diwali morning:

he fights his parents because he doesnt want to miss school for diwali because americans dont have a day off for it. his parents set the clocks in the house ahead to make him think he overslept so he would skip school. (logan didnt know that his parents had submitted an excused absence form for religious reasons and that the school was very understanding. he thought it would be like his old school where he wouldnteven bother trying since he wasnt christain and the school was lkinda discriminatory)

they spend the morning in mandir and it’s nice. for once he doesnt feel different from his peers because he goes to mandir and not church or synagogue. he feels at home.

diwali afternoon:

the afternoon is spent with frantic cleaning and cooking and digging around for the diya’s that were still in boxes, packed away from when they moved

logan offered to find them all to continue with a diya science experiment he started two years prior. his theory was that the diya’s were multiplying and there were more each year despite no one buying anymore

this held true, because even though he could only find half of their diya collection, it was somehow more than the entire diya collection of two years prior.

diwali evening:

theres a big potluck and everyone in the neighborhood is out talking to each other, looking at the decorations at everyones houses, eating samosas, and playing with sparklers.

logan feels content

he makes a new resolve to learn more about hinduism. if this is what ti was supposed to be, then he never wanted to be away from hinduism.

he looked at the metaphors and symbolism in everything and finally understood what his dad meant he told logan that hinduism is just science written in poetry and that string theory is written in the ancient texts

middle school in this new town is so much better than middle school in his old home. why?

a. doesnt get bullied for being a nerd

b. doesnt get called gay slurs

c. the classes are harder

d. much less racism

e. all of the above

soon enough, logans asking his grandpa to teach him how to cook Indian food

Logan spends the day burning dosas and making lopsided rotis

(eventually he gets the hang of it, and a he'll be cooking food for an infuriating Indian boy ;) ;) psst it's roman)

Speaking of boys

Coming out isn't an option for logan

He knows that his parents arent really religious enough to really look into hinduism and see that no, gays are not bad

But they are traditional and conservative enough to be homophobic

not homophobic as in spewing hate with the westboro baptist church at a pride parade

But homophobic as in "the gays are fine as long as they don't do it in front of me" kinda thing

So Logan stays quiet

the closet kinda sucks but i mean what can he do

it’s safer inside, and he as illogical as wishing is, he wishes that people would use their brains and realize there’s nothing wrong with gay

anyway

in school logan makes his first desi friend, who was dubbed as anxiety years ago and cant seem to get rid of the nickname and now has a whole complex about his name so logan doesnt know his name

logan and anxiety meet in the school library: logan studying and anxiety hiding

people dont like anxiety

especially non-indian kids

surprise surprise it’s an old buddy called racism, but anxiety’s story is for another time

(but even though no one really likes anxiety, whenever racist shit goes down, it has to go through roman)

so logan and anxiety become fast friends

and they make fun of roman (a+ bonding)

logan claims that roman is a hypocrite for changing his name to an english one while being so immersed in indian culture

anxiety doesnt dispute this, but says he has a past with roman

a past that involved getting stuck with the name anxiety

again, another story for another time

one day, when logan and anxiety are eating lunch they see roman destroy some homophobes who throw around the word f*g and keep calling caitlyn jenner, bruce jenner

logans chest surges

he’s all like “what?? emotions?? pride at roman?? is he better than me for being so open and standing up for what he believes in??”

gay panic basically

but logan masked it well and pushed it away

the next day roman comes to school with a pride patch on his jean jacket

logan feels like he cant breathe

logan is supremely jealous of roman.

he can be gay in peace

he can pretend not to be indian in a way that benefits him

and he’s not affected by stereotypes in the same way?? like what does this kid not have

and by stereotypes i mean

roman is the complete opposite of all indian and desi stereotypes: loud, flamboyant, theatrical

logan’s personality is exactly how the stereotypes are. he’s nerdy and likes science and math and it seems like he cant escape the stereotypes. they follow him. and he feels guilty that he likes science and math and is nerdy.

as illogical as it is, he wishes he was different from how he is

but logan later learns that there are more than just his perspective on being desi and that every desi kid growing up faces challenges about it that are different than his, causing them to experience being desi differently

and logan will accept that, in another story at another time

for now, he’s just bitter. and as illogical as it is, he wishes the world was better

and now, i shall tag some people who asked to be tagged and some other desi’s who loved this because i feel like you guys might appreciate this too. also i love u. desi famders squad up.

@sssixeyedrunt @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 @caterpiller-tea @xxxbladeangelxxx @snufflesthegrim227 @cloudchaser7 @thelowlysatsuma

#logan sanders #logince #virgil sanders #roman sanders #desi #desi headcanons #sanders sides #mine #please love this #r #l #v

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kylopen · 5 years

Text

Too Good For Me

Summary: Kim Namjoon, straight A student in college, has a crush on Y/N, someone he assumes is too good for him.

Warnings:fluff, Hobi x Tae, shy, cute, nervous Namjoon because that always needs a warning *swooon*

Part one

~~~~

“Namjoon, just talk to her” Hoseok nudged his best friend. “It’s easy for you to say Hobi... you’re the captain of the dance team and you’re popular with everyone” Namjoon sighed. “Even Jungkooks had a girlfriend before me” Namjoon groaned. “That’s because he is the only first year on the basketball team and he is hot” Hoseok shrugged. “And I’m not?” Namjoon laughed nervously pushing his thick glasses up his nose. “You’re cute” Hoseok smiled. “Cute isn’t going to get a girl like her” Namjoon chuckled awkwardly. “Look maybe you can see if she needs help in any subject and study with her at least?” Hoseok suggested. “Maybe...” Namjoon replied, knowing he had no intention of doing that. “That Taehyung kid, he’s friends with her isn’t he? The gay one?” Hoseok shrugged. “And don’t you sit next to him in your English lit class?” He asked. “How do you know that?” He laughed. “I’ve had my eye on Taehyung” Hoseok smirked. “Ah don’t take advantage of the poor boy, Hobi” Namjoon sighed. “What about the girl from the other week?” Namjoon asked. “Oh her? Look Namjoon, the guys and the ladies all know what They’re getting into when they get involved with me” Hoseok smirked. “Sure sure” Namjoon laughed. “I just wish I could, ya know, look like you and get girls” Namjoon sighed. “I’ll help you AFTER you talk properly to Y/N” Hoseoks face held a smug look. “Or, if you just told everyone just how rich you are and who your brother is— you’d have girls all over you” Hoseok winked. Namjoons older brother, Kim Seokjin was a very handsome, wealthy CEO of a recording company. He managed popular rappers and musicians, one including the famous Min Yoongi who Namjoon admired a lot.

~~~

“Mr Smith?” Namjoon stiffened as you popped your head into his English literature class. “I have a note to bring Taehyung out of the class for my art project?” You smiled and walked in, handing him the note. “You still need four more people don’t you? I remember you telling me. Is there anyone in my class you would like to use?” The elderly man smiled, you were in his other English literature and language class, and he had taken a strong liking to you. “Uh if that’d be okay” you shrugged. Many people looked at you with eager or desperate eyes. “You, you...” you pointed at a shorter, chubby girl, and a jock type guy “who wants to model for me?” You asked and hands shot up, including a hand you didn’t expect, he did it hesitatingly but he seemed determined. “Namjoon, and you” you smiled and walked out the five following you.

~~~

“Okay is my project is on ‘the beauty of the human form’ I want to express the beauty within a different range of people, races and body types. So you were all chosen” you smiled. “Any questions?” You asked. “How do you plan on doing all this?” The shorter girl asked, running a hand through her natural curls. “I will have a different theme for each of you, take solo shots of you, I will also have a group one” you beamed. “I have a sheet with dates and times written on it of when I am available, please write your name on a date and time you are available for the shoot” you passed on the paper to the group. “Sorry we’re late” Jungkook ran a hand through his hair. You glanced at the small group that appeared late. Jungkook and his girlfriend, Kyungsoo and his boyfriend Chen. “It’s fine, just write your name where you’re available” you gestured to the sheet. Once everyone was done you had almost dismissed them. “Oh wait! I need photos of you all real quick so I can decide on a theme!” You yelled.

You took them all in turn, in the end you were left with Taehyung and Namjoon. “S-Shoud I smile?” Namjoon asked, scratching the back of his neck. “Do what you wish” you chuckled, taking the photo of his awkward self. “I’ll contact you closer to the date” you laughed as he scurried off. Namjoon was so smitten with you, the fact you wanted to express the beauty in so many people it made him happy. You were a good person. “He’s so cute” you smirked. “I would bang” Taehyung shrugged with a laugh. “Tae!” You giggled. “Oh yeah. Jung Hoseok, the third year he invited me to a party on Saturday, he told me I should bring you too” he shrugged. “Jung Hoseok? As in heartbreaker Jung Hoseok?” You laughed. “He’s after you Tae, be careful” you chuckled. “Me? Get hurt by someone like him? Pfft you make me laugh”

~~~

Saturday rolled around quick and here you were, in your small, apartment with Tae. “You need to get some good dick my girl, so dress in something nice” Tae chuckled. “Fine dress me then” you shrugged, knowing your best friend was hinting that he wanted to dress you.

In the end, Taehyung ended up choosing a cute mid-thigh level leather pencil skirt with a cute red vest. “Oh shit you almost turned me straight there for a second” Tae giggles, to which you laugh. “Look lets go” you chuckled, hitting him gently with your purse.

~~~

Of course, the party was already bustling when you arrived, it was one of the more popular guys’ parties after all. It was already 10pm and the house was overflowing with people, red solo cups lay on the floor, in peoples hands. “You came!” Jung Hoseok himself came walking out of the house, red cup in hand. “Drinks are in the kitchen, so yeah, just have fun” Hoseok smiled. “Let’s dance” he looked at Taehyung. “But Y/N—“ “don’t worry about me, go dance” you shot him a wink before walking into the house. Grabbing a strong drink from the kitchen, you weaves your way through the crowds before planting yourself atop of the dining room table- the only available seat. After a while of just drinking, the clock was close to striking eleven. “H-Heya” a slurred voice spoke from behind you. “Jimin?” You asked, only knowing the boy since he was a friend of Hoseok and Namjoons. “Hey B-eautiful” He hiccuped as he leaned on your for support. “Woah there sweetheart you seem to have had a lot to drink” you chuckled as you held him. “No!” He protested. “How about I take you home Hm?” You suggested. “Oh Y/N you’re so forward” he winked. “No jimin.” You deadpanned “I’m taking you somewhere safe so you don’t make any mistakes” you chuckled, pulling him near the dance floor, trying to find Taehyung until you realised he had sent you a text about 5 minutes earlier ‘going to Hoseoks place ;) Sorry Y/N!!!’ You quickly sent a text, asking for the address, to which he obliged.

When you bring Jimin outside he stared in awe. “Oooh Y/N I knew you were cool and sexy— but a motorbike! Woah” he stumbled on his words. “Yep, now be sure to hold onto me tight okay Jimin?” You nodded as you sat yourself down on your bike.

~~~

You stared at the huge house. “Jimin is this where you live?” You ask. “Yah!” He smiled drunkly. You knock twice, waiting with Jimin leaning on your shoulder. “Ah Namjoon hey” you smiled as the brunette opens the door with a sleepy face and messy hair. “Y-Y/N!? What are you...” He trailed off as he noticed the male on your shoulder. “I see” his heart sunk. “You’re with Jimin...” he mumbled. “Yeah he was really drunk I just wanted to get him home safe” you smiled. “O-Oh!” Namjoon couldn’t help the smile that graced his features. “Okay let me help you.” He smiled. “Thanks he’s heavier than he looks” you chuckled.

Once you stepped inside Jimin mumbles something, facing you. “Y/N...” he says before vomiting all over you. “Fuck!” You groaned, trying not to look at the mess. “Oh shit Y/N... let me- let me get Jimin to bed, come with me and you can clean yourself here...” his face scrunched up. “S-Sure...” you mumbled, scrunching your own face up at the smell. “Okay use my bathroom and I’ll give you something temporary to wear, I’ll also have your clothes washed and dried” He smiled sheepishly. “Sorry about this” he apologised as he laid Jimin down. “It’s okay, he was really drunk, I couldn’t leave him at that party, I’m pretty sure he would’ve gotten someone pregnant” you giggled. “Did... Did he hit on you?” Namjoon asked. “Yeah, kinda” you laughed. “I see” Namjoon spoke, taking a mental note to speak to Jimin later. “Follow me, I’ll show you to my room” Namjoon spoke, then realised what it sounded like “TO HAVE A SHOWER, AND CHANGE THATS IT” he yelled, startling you slightly, before you laughed. In namjoons mind, he panicked slightly— you were laughing at him. “You’re funny” you said with a giggle. “W-Well this is my room, the bathroom is through that door, just uh have a shower and give me your clothes, you can wear— oh let me get something” he stumbled to his wardrobe, pulling out a large black shirt. “This should go down to like, your knees, I think all of my shorts will be too big...” he mused, a hand on his chin. “The shirt should be fine thank you” you smiled.

~~~

After your shower, you picked up Namjoons shirt with a smile on your face. You had always had a slight thing for Namjoon. As you thought, the shirt was huge on you, but it was comfortable and smelled good. You walked out, Namjoon was sat on the bed on his phone. “Whatcha watching?” You said as you plopped down next to him. “O-Oh! I didn’t notice you were back” he laughed nervously, his eyes not so subtly looking over your form. And he must say— he loved the way you looked in his clothes and you loved the way they felt on you. “Cute” he mumbled absent mindedly. “Did you just... did you just call me cute?” You teased. “W-What?” He spoke, wide eyed. “So you think I’m cute even without makeup Hm?” You teased more, not expecting a proper reply from his nervous. “Not cute. Beautiful” he spoke, unsure where his newfound courage was coming from. “I- uh- t-thank you” you blushed slightly. “Y/N?” Namjoon looked away from you. “Do you have any subjects you’re struggling on and need help?” He asked before his confidence faded. “Uh, I don’t think so” you chuckled at his down facial expression “but how about we go on a date instead?” You bit your bottom lip. “Y-Yeah! What were you thinking? Choose anything you want and I’ll make it happen” he spoke seriously. “Okay. A plane to fly us around the world” you spoke. “Done” he spoke. “Joon! I was joking” you laughed. “I prefer simple” you smiled. “Plus me and you together couldn’t afford such a thing, but how about you come play games or watch movies at my dorm? I don’t have a roommate ‘cause no one really liked me... they all room switched after about a week” you laughed sheepishly. “Oh yeah that sounds fun” Namjoon smiled happily. “How about I pick you up, Tuesday, 6pm?” You smiled and he laughed “I’m the guy shouldn’t I pick you up? Or go to yours” he chuckled. “Nopeee I love riding my bike sooo” you giggled. “Tuesday it is then” he smiled. After you got your clean clothes you insisted on keeping his shirt. And once you left, Namjoon had a mini celebration, pumping his fists in the air. He would have gone and told Hoseok, however, from what he could hear- Hoseok was busy with Taehyung in his room.

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lattewithatwistoflemon · 5 years

Text

I Don't Want to Go Home - A Harringrove fan fiction

A fluffy hurt/comfort fic

Warnings: mention of child abuse and homophobic slurs and other harsh language

In the boys' locker room at Hawkins High, Steve Harrington was getting dressed. Gym was his last class of the day, so once he put his clothes back on, he could go home. He put his shirt on and then froze. Something was different, he noticed. Billy hadn't bullied him today. In fact, he's been acting invisible ever since Max sedated him and made him promise not to mess with them again. That was about a month ago. Steve glanced over at Billy, who was about to put his shirt back on, and he noticed various bruises all over him. Come to think of it, Steve realized Billy hadn't played basketball shirtless today like he usually does. Was he trying to hide the bruises? Steve shrugged it off, figuring Billy just got into another fight, as troublemakers like him do.

The locker room cleared out, except for the two of them. Steve had brought a lot of stuff with him, including his nailed bat, in case of a demodog attack, but things have been peaceful since the Snow Ball. Nevertheless, he wanted to be sure that he didn't forget to take any of his things back home with him. As he was checking his bag, he felt a tug on the shoulder of his tee-shirt. When he turned around, Billy immediately embraced him. The gesture was firm, but by no means aggressive... which made Steve kind of frightened.

"I don't wanna go home," Billy sighed into Steve's shoulder. His hands gripped onto the slightly taller boy's back.

Steve might not be great at figuring people out, but it was pretty darn obvious that something was wrong. So, without further ado, he offered: "You wanna come over my house?"

The seventeen year old boys drove home in silence. They arrived at Steve's house. Billy could tell they had the house to themselves, since the driveway was empty and the lights weren't on. It made him feel strangely comforted to know that he didn't have to involve anyone else in his misery.

"Want anything to drink?" Steve asked once they were inside, "I've got coke, apple juice, water..."

"Got any beer?"

Steve smirked. "Yeah, I think so," he said as he rummaged to the back of the fridge, where his dad thought he wouldn't get to it. He brought out two cans and motioned to Billy to take a seat on the couch in the living room. They sat down; a full cushion space between them. Steve sat silently. He didn't want to pry. He figured it would be best to let Billy speak when, or if, he's ready.

"I fucked up," Billy said with a frown, after taking a few sips of beer. Steve's brown eyes looked at him, full of caring. "After our fight, I told myself to stop trying to impress my A-hole father. The brat can take care of herself. I shouldn't have to babysit her 24/7. My dad's gotta realize that sometime. So I gave up tryin' to obey his orders to watch over her and keep her from going out."

"So he hit you?" Steve asked a bit presumptuously.

"No, well, yeah," Billy mumbled, tossing his head from side to side, like the assumption was half true. "He did hit me after that, but that wasn't the worst of it. I'm used to a punch or two. But then..."

Billy froze. His Adam's apple bobbed in a swallowing gesture as his throat was having trouble forming the thoughts in his mind into words. His dark brows bunched together in distress.

"You okay?" Steve asked. He felt an urge to comfort Billy somehow... Place his hand on Billy's to steady him... but he fought it.

"Harrington," Billy addressed Steve for the first time since he had been there, and it made it apparent that Billy wasn't just talking to himself. It wasn't just anyone that he wanted to open up to. It was Steve. He continued, reluctantly. "Have you ever, I dunno, felt like you've been living a lie? Trying to be what others want you to be? And one day you just wake up and realize that isn't what you want? It isn't who you are?"

Steve thought of how he was before Nancy broke up with him. He was he king of the school who thought he could get away with anything. He was a bully like Billy, causing trouble for less popular classmates like Jonathan Byers. He was too self absorbed (and perhaps blinded by love) to notice his girlfriend's best friend get killed in his backyard. Too stubborn to try to see things from Nancy's point of view... Too vain to notice she didn't love him.

"Yeah," Steve reflected, "I think I know how you feel. I was too self absorbed to realize how much of a douchebag I was until the girl I loved broke up with me. And then I realized the person I was when I was with her isn't who I'm meant to be... And what about you?"

"I'm gay," Billy said bluntly. Steve's big brown eyes widened. It wasn't the response he was expecting.

Billy continued: "My dad knew. He called me a faggot almost every day. I kept shrugging it off. Kept trying to make him believe he was wrong. So I tried being as... straight as possible... acted more macho, deepened my voice around him, hung up pin-ups of women in bikinis in my room. I even went out with tons of women and fucked 'em... trying to convince even myself that I don't like guys. But yesterday, I'd decided that I had enough. I was done pretending. So I came out to my dad. So he beat me, and beat me... and beat me. Maybe thinkin' that if I get battered around enough, I'll 'come to my senses' and keep being what he wants me to be."

"Shit, Billy, I'm sorry," Steve said. He looked down at the floor, unsure of how to process this. When he looked back up, Billy was crying.

"Fuck," Billy exclaimed, wiping his eyes, "don't look at me! You better not tell anyone at school about this, or I'll rip your-"

Steve put an arm around Billy's shoulder and pulled him close.

Billy's blue eyes opened wide at his brown haired classmate, who was now only a few inches away.

"You can cry on my shoulder if you want," Steve said. It took some coercing, but Billy eventually did just that. He cried for a good hour, as Steve sat in silence, lightly rubbing his denim-sleeved shoulder.

They realized it was getting late, so they decided to call it a night. Billy asked about sleeping arrangements, and Steve replied: "You can sleep in my room, if you want." From that statement, Billy assumed that Steve would be sleeping in his parents' bedroom or the couch, so he was very surprised when Steve stripped off his pants and hopped into bed beside him. Billy's face turned 50 shades of red.

"Whoa, what the hell are you doing?!" Billy roared. He was embarrassed and flustered, but from his voice, Steve assumed he was angry.

"Sorry, man," Steve replied, his face looking dejected, "I just thought you wouldn't want to be alone tonight. You've been through some rough stuff. I thought I could be here to fight away the nightmares, y'know?" As he said that he suddenly pulled out his studded bat from underneath his bedside table. The unexpected sight of the weapon drew a laugh out of Billy. Mission accomplished, Steve thought with smirk. "But I can leave if you want me to," he added.

"Nah, it's fine, amigo," Billy replied, as his smile turned to a look of uncertainty. "I just thought that you'd be, I dunno, uncomfortable with sleeping in the same bed as me."

"Why would I be?"

"It doesn't bother you that I'm gay?" Billy asked in disbelief.

"Why would it?" Steve replied with another question. "Come on, amigo, we've bathed together. I think I can handle laying on the same piece of furniture as you." He got another, smaller laugh from Billy. Score 2!

As the young men fell asleep, they slowly, unconsciously, inched closer to one another... The one longing for a loving embrace that he could never receive at home, and the other possessing a nearly parental desire to protect those around him... by morning they found themselves awoken in each other's warm embrace.

#harringrove fic #harringrove #fanfiction #fanfic #stranger things #steve harrington #billy hargrove

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innuendostudios · 6 years

Video

youtube

The newest installment of The Alt-Right Playbook: Mainstreaming. If you like this series, or my other work, and want to see more of the same, consider backing me on Patreon.

Transcript below the cut.

Say, for the sake of argument, there’s this acclaimed science fiction writer and essayist who’s writing his memoir in the late 80’s. I’m gonna drop the pretense right now and say his name is Samuel R. Delany, he’s been namedropped on this channel before and he probably will be again because he’s my favorite writer. Delany’s writing about his experience as a young gay man in the late 50’s/early 60’s - that is, nearly a decade before Stonewall - and he opts to share a couple of anecdotes, which I will relate to you now.

One is about a time when he decided to come out to his therapy group. While being gay in mid-century New York brought Delany a lot of joy, he found himself describing his life to the group as though being gay were something he was trying to fix. By reflex, he presented himself as lonely and ashamed, though, in reality, he was neither. And, while he did eventually describe himself more accurately, he can’t help but muse, in the book, on the limits of language at the time.

Back then, the word “gay” was explicitly associated with high camp and effeminacy, where Delany is more of a bear, a term that was not yet in common usage. The default term was “homosexual,” which was then a medical classification for what was deemed a mental disorder. “Queer” and the f-word were still slurs that had yet to be reappropriated. So, while all the words to describe himself were, technically, available, they all carried the connotations of the most popular narrative about gay men: that they were isolated, aberrant, and pitiable.

Another story is about Delany being present for a police raid at a truck stop where queer men would meet for casual hookups. By the nature of being hidden in the bushes or secreted between parked semi trailers, any man in attendance could see the men nearest to him, but none could get a view of the whole. But, during the raid, from his vantage point, Delany saw, for the first time, the size of the entire crowd, and was shocked to see nearly a hundred men empty out of the parking lot to evade the cops. In the morning, the police blotter mentioned only the handful of men who’d been arrested, and not the 80 or 90 who got away.

Both of these stories are about how the dominant narrative of the isolated gay man becomes self-reinforcing: A constant threat of police violence meant gay men stayed hidden from the cops and, consequently, from each other. And the terminology of the era being mostly dictated by straight people made it very hard to talk about queerness without reinforcing their narrative.

Delany argues that, among the most revolutionary things the 60’s did to culture, was the radicalization of language - redefining old terms and popularizing new ones - and giving marginalized groups a budding sense of their numbers. In short, two of the most powerful tools for making any marginalized group less marginalized are Language and Visibility.

Folks, we’re talking today about Mainstreaming, the process by which a group or idea from the fringes of society moves towards the center. How strangers become neighbors and how thoughts become common sense. There is a concept known as the Overton Window, which I am not going to describe because plenty of people have done so already - link in the down there part - but, in short: as a fringe group becomes more visible, and their language becomes commonplace, their presence in society starts to seem normal. They become demystified. Some people who thought they were strange and threatening will start to warm up to them, though this does not happen across the board. Many who hated them when they were fringe will see their becoming mainstream as a kind of existential occupation of territory, as in “If this is normal now, what does that make me?”

But much of what is considered standard in society today has gone through this process.

Now, straight folks like myself often think that greater queer visibility and the proliferation of queer language is for our benefit; if our queer friends feel safe coming out to us and we know which words we should and shouldn’t use, it makes it easier for straights and queer folks to be pals! And it is true that no one gets mainstreamed without advocates in the existing mainstream, but let’s not beat around the bush: Language and Visibility are tools of consolidating power. Visibility means having a sense of your numbers. Common language means forming alliances. You get a bunch of formerly isolated gay men connecting with each other and accurately describing their experiences, you’ve got yourself a movement, with or without straight friends.

This is why it’s to the benefit of straight society to tell queer men they are isolated, because isolated queer men are in no position to make demands.

(Just so it doesn’t get left out of yet another conversation, Delany is writing about gay men because the book is a memoir and that’s his experience, but neither he nor I are ignoring that the Gay Rights movement was kicked off by trans women.)

Okay!

While the example I’m using is a positive one that any progressive worth their salt should be in favor of, mainstreaming is a morally neutral phenomenon. Culture is plastic. Any fringe group or idea can become normalized, regardless of its inherent worth. And, for a certain subset of extremely online people with fringe beliefs, who understand the ways mainstreaming has evolved in the attention economy, it can be a weapon.

We need to ask how a group of predominantly disgruntled twenty- and thirtysomething white men congregating on anonymous imageboards becomes a political movement, whose members get profiled in the New York Times, whose writing patterns are recognized by most of the internet, and whose figureheads get staffed in the White House. Where did the Alt-Right come from?

Mainstreaming is not a wholly organic process, because usually the people who get mainstreamed are actively working to become so. But people usually have only so much control over how and how fast this happens: A group expands its language and visibility; if this leads to larger numbers and greater mainstream acceptance, the process repeats, this time with a bigger group and a bigger audience; so long as there is growth, each cycle is more impactful, as the bigger a group is the faster it gets even bigger and the more common language becomes the faster it proliferates.

By all rights, if your beliefs are wildly unpopular, this process shouldn’t work. Your language and visibility don’t expand because too many people don’t want to talk like you or about you. So what do you do then? Well, normally, you either give up or bide your time, but, if you have a lot of media literacy and no real moral compass, you get it done dirty.

If the media doesn’t want to cover you, make yourself newsworthy. Threaten to publicly out immigrants in front of a crowd. Start a hoax about white student unions. Lead a white power rally and leave the hoods at home. Do the kinds of things that journalists cannot, in good conscience, ignore. Once you’ve made yourself news, they’ll feel they can’t publish a condemnation without getting your side of the story, so, bam, you’ve got an interview. The more erratic and dangerous you seem, the more they’ll want to write a profile so people can figure you out; the article about how surprisingly normal you seem in person basically writes itself. If you want to spread a conspiracy theory, send it to a small, local news site that doesn’t have the resources to fact check you; once they publish something salacious, all the bigger news channels will have to talk about it, if only to debunk it. Put provocative stuff in front of politicians; anything they retweet has to be news. In a pinch, you can always piggyback off a famous activist by making takedown videos, or, if you’re really ambitious, harass someone at a conference.

Everyone’s desperate for clicks. If you can generate them, you’ll get your message out.

If nobody’s adopting your language, adopt it for them. Make sure you and all your friends each have half a dozen fake Twitter accounts spamming the same terminology at everyone who discusses race, gender, orientation, or ability. Put every Jewish name in parentheses until everyone on the internet knows what that means whether they want to or not. Hell, don’t even do it yourself: Russia’s not the only one who can make bots. Make thousands of bots. And make sure your real account, your fake accounts, and your bots all talk the same so no one can tell the difference anymore. Make hashtags and get them trending all by yourself, and, while you’re at it, spam all the hashtags for movements you hate with porn and gore so they can’t be used. And if your words and memes still aren’t popular? Just steal words and memes that are already popular. Just decide “this? this means white power now,” “this is antifeminist now.” Saturate the web with your new usage, always insisting that you’re doing it “ironically,” while eroding confidence in anyone who uses these words in the original sense. And never stop insisting that most everyone would talk the same as you if there weren’t so much damn censorship.

Delany’s experience was having few words to describe himself that could conjure images of a gay man in a loving community. What the Alt-Right does is shout “you just call everyone you don’t like Nazis” while their people are giving interviews wearing Nazi paraphernalia; they even imply that calling dudes marching to the tune of “Jews will not replace us” Nazis is somehow antisemitic. Meanwhile they ask to be called identitarians and race realists. They want to stigmatize words that conjure images of white fascism - which, again, they very explicitly support - and replace them with words that conjure images of clean-cut philosophy majors.

And where Delany saw a group of 80 or 90 gay men reported in the papers as a group of 4 or 5, the Alt-Right wants to get reported as being much larger than it actually is. They want to draw attention to themselves by any means necessary, up to and including violence, but to ensure that, any time the cameras train on a violent act, there is a man in a suit ready to distance himself from it; to paint the picture that, but for a few bad actors, this is a peaceful movement of young, presentable intellectuals.

This isn’t simply a battle between different ideologies, this is a battle over the definition of normal. The Alt-Right knows how plastic culture can be. Their anger comes from the normalization of things they hate, and their movement exists because they believe anything that becomes mainstream can be made fringe again. Which is why, if you wanna cater to them, you promise to reassert old norms.

Much as we’d like to believe people are driven by morality, most people are driven by the desire to be normal. And when the news is filled with images of swastikas, iron crosses, and tiki torches, the guy in the suit with the fashy haircut looks pretty normal by comparison. And that’s why he wears the suit.

Thankfully, the plasticity of culture cuts both ways. Just as surely as we can lose all the ground we’ve gained over the last half-century, everything the Alt-Right does to make itself palatable can be undone. (In fact, it’s maybe beginning to happen.) It’s going to be a long road that will probably require changes to how media platforms generate traffic and a lot of new politicians. But I want you to keep a phrase close to your heart: this is not normal.

That phrase has become something of a mantra since the election in 2016. It can be misused: white supremacy, sexism, and every other kind of bigotry are part of the fabric of American life and always have been, so, even if this is more extreme than the ushe, it’s not by nearly as much as most privileged people like to think. So I want you to treat it less like an observation and more as a statement of intent. Whatever shit the Alt-Right pulls, I want you to say: this is not normal; this is not normal; this is not normal.

We will not let this be normal.

#video essay #the alt-right playbook #alt-right

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hawkinstrashmouth-blog · 6 years

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Sleepless Nights (Reddie)

Sorry if this sucked, it was my first time writing something like this. I tried.

Eddie can’t sleep and he get’s a visit from Richie in the middle of the night.

Warnings: Kissing and a little grinding (USE OF LANGUAGE SOME MAY FIND OFFENSIVE OR TRIGGERING, SUCH AS HOMOPHOBIC SLURS)

The characters in this story are aged up to 15/16. The timeline is a little messed up but, nonetheless I hope you enjoy. :)

Word count: 1,870

Parts: 1/1

Eddie was tired. You could see the bags hanging under his hazel eyes like something was pulling his skin down. It’s not like Eddie had not tried to get sleep. Oh, he tried to get sleep. He tussled and turned but his mind wouldn’t oblige to the sleep he was oh so desperate for. He sat up in his dark room and let out a long huff. He no idea why his thoughts went so wild. Eddie had tried so hard every single night the past week to get rest. He really, did. But, there was one thing on his mind that stayed and wouldn’t disperse no matter how many times he tried. It. All hell was in his mind sense he and his friends had last been in that creepy house with that god-awful thing. He knew it was gone but there was no stopping this imagination from playing games.

Just as Eddie was feeling himself drift off for once- Tap- Tap- Tap. The poor restless boy’s head shot toward the small window by his bed. No, it couldn’t be. Eddie’s mind was running like a train and oh, that train was going to go off its tracks. Tap- Tap- Tap. The small boy shivered and let out a tiny whimper. It’s probably nothing he told himself endlessly. With a burst of sudden bravery, he walked to his window and peered outside. His heart practically in his throat he glanced down he saw something a lot less scary then he thought he was going to. Richie god dammit. The boy felt an enormous amount of relief spread across his body.

The other boy on the other side of the window wasn’t even glancing at him. He was looking at the ground for more rocks to throw at the others window. Richie’s head shot up to the window when he heard Eddie unlatch it and pull it open. “What the fuck are you doing?” Eddie thought aloud and Richie just lent his friend a small smile and climbed up the tree next to Eddie’s window. He struggled a little but he got to the top successfully. “Hey, Eddie Spaghetti.” The boy replied. Eddie didn’t even have the energy to reply. He just grabbed the other boy’s hand and pulled him back through the window. Eddie was too broken down and warn out to tell the boy to go home. He had been too sleep deprived for that.

The boy took the silence as an open invitation to say more. “You look like shit, Eddie.” He said while sitting on Eddie’s bed like he had done it so many times. And he had, they were the closest friends and had been sense they were just in Kindergarten. Eddie had maybe even had a tiny crush on him, but he wouldn’t ever admit that out loud. And by tiny, he may have meant huge. There were two reasons the boy wouldn’t ever admit how he felt. One, Derry was full of homophobes and people that would kill for what they believed of those who were gay. Two, Richie is straight and would probably never talk to him ever again if his feelings were released into the air.

He figured out his crush for the boy a long time ago when Beverly pointed out the constant flirting and lovey dovely stares between the two of them. It felt as though it was only yesterday. “Eddie? You there?” His head shot to the side to see a very confused and concerned Richie. “Huh?” Was all he could muster up. Richie knew something was up. He was never like this. This was not the normal Eddie. And Richie was positive he knew everything about Eddie. And he of course did. Well except maybe one tiny detail that was important, Eddie had a big, fat crush on him. But one thing neither were aware of, is that the feelings were completely mutual. Richie was just as love struck as the asthmatic boy, for the asthmatic boy.

Richie got up from the bed and did the only thing he could think to do. He hugged him. Suddenly Eddie felt wide awake. Regardless of everything, Eddie hugged back like his life depended on it. He felt so many emotions at once that he couldn’t explain. He felt love for the losers and Richie, he felt fatigue for all these restless nights he had experienced, and regardless of defeating It, he felt fear for it and the possibility of it coming back. Before he could stop it there were tears streaming down Eddie’s face. One glance at Eddie and suddenly Richie could feel steaming hot tears coming from his eyes as well.

The two just held each other and hoped they would never leave each others arms. As if right on que Richie pulled away and stared back at the boy. “If you ever tell anyone that we just did that you’ll be dead, eds.” The boy laughed at himself as he said it. He knew Eddie wouldn’t say anything. They could trust each other. By this point they both felt as though they were both all they had. “Don’t call me that.” Eddie paused for a second as though he was thinking about what to say next. “So not to sound rude or anything but why are you here?” Eddie asked in pure curiosity. “Isn’t it obvious Ed’s, you’re not the only one who experiences the whole show down.” He paused to breathe. “I can’t sleep either; I knew you would be the only one to understand how I felt. I felt as though I needed to see you.” The boy muttered the words out to him.

Eddie just slightly nodded and made his way to his bed. No words were exchanged after that. None needed to be. Eddie thought maybe this was the time to tell the other boy how he felt, but he was a coward. He was his best friend he knew he couldn’t risk it. He couldn’t risk losing his best friend. After all Eddie thought Richie was straight and would never, ever feel equivalent to him. Richie was not queer, at least that’s what Eddie had thought. Right now, it was not important to him, thought the boy. He pushed thoughts of confessing his love to him to the back of his mind. He just wanted to enjoy what they had, live in the moment with Richie. The rest could wait for now.

Richie crawled in the bed with him and didn’t even think twice and Richie cuddled up, spooning Eddie in bed. Eddie began to feel tired and just as he was about to fall into a deep slumber for the first time in the past week, he swears he heard Richie whisper something in Eddie’s ear. Surely he heard it wrong. “I love you.” And like magic, they both drifted off to sleep.

Eddie woke up to something poking his side. His eyes just barley fluttered open to feel something up against him. Someone. Everything from the night before was suddenly coming back to him like an avalanche. He felt his heart flutter and his checks went bright red like a fire truck. Richie Tozier was cuddled up with him. Eddie loved it, though he would never tell Richie or anyone else. But what in the world was poking his side- oh god. Eddies face went even more red if possible. The Richie Tozier had a hard on while cuddling with him.

Eddie and Richie had slept in the same bed multiple times. That was nothing new, but cuddling, that was different. That was gay. If anyone in Derry had seen this it would be the end of them. People would be disgusted. His mom would be disgusted. Everyone would probably call them faggots and disown them. They were already freaks as it was. Eddie didn’t know what to do. He wanted to stay in bed forever, and cherish this. He never wanted to leave this spot, this bed. He never wanted to leave Richie. The thoughts of being gay and the town left his mind when he realized he needed to get up. “Eddie! Sweetie! Get up, it’s time to take your morning shower!” Ms. Kasprak called almost at perfect timing. Just as the words left her mouth Richie was practically jumping out of bed. “Shit. Shit. Shit.” Richie face was red with embarrassment, probably from getting a hard on while cuddling with his best friend.

Ms. Kasprak was coming up the stairs and Eddie knew he’d be in deep shit if she came in here and saw Richie in his room. Richie gave Eddie and panicked look as he practically shoved Richie in his closet. Just as he was shutting the closet door she opened his. “Good morning mommy!” Eddie said with a hopeful look. He was praying she didn’t know what was going on here. “Eddie, I said go take your morning shower.” His mother left, closed his door and he sighed in defeat. After the door was closed, Eddie sat on his bed. Richie. He opened his closet door to find something that really, stuck him into panic mode. Richie was sitting on his closet floor reading his diary.

Eddie had kept all his deepest darkest secrets in there, everything. But the most important secret he kept in that torn up book was his feelings for the boy with the coke classes, his best friend, Richie. Eddie gasping, grabbed the book from Richie’s larger hands and backed away. Richie’s face was filled with pure amusement. Fuck. Eddie felt as though he was going to have an asthma attack. He couldn’t breathe. He friend was never going to talk to him again. He was going to make fun of him and just call him a faggot. Fuck. That was all Eddie could think, his mind was clouded with fear and terrifying thoughts.

That book was his personal out let. He talked about how in love he was with Richie and what he wanted to do to Richie. How he wanted to kiss him and well, do a lot more then just kissing. Personal stuff. Before he would think about anything else Richie was in front of his face. “Hey, Ed’s calm down. It’s okay. Just breathe.” Eddie’s breathing began to even out again. He looked at Richie and he didn’t look disgusted, he looked happy? “Don’t call me Ed’s.” was all Eddie would say before Richie pulled Eddie’s face to his. Cupping his cheek, he molded their lips together.

Eddie was in pure shock but never the less relaxed into the kiss. Their lips worked against each other’s. Breathing was heavy and Richie pushed him backwards, onto the bed. Richie laid on top of him and slipped his tongue into his mouth. Richie had wanted to do this for so long. Everything felt so right for both. Eddie moaned and the boy on top of him grinded his hips into him. Both pulled away for air. “Wow, I’ve always wanted to do that.” Richie spoke at last. “You and me both.” Was all that Eddie replied before connecting their lips for the second time.

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salmon404 · 6 years

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I’m gonna regret posting this but uh have a story

(it doesn’t really have a name so if you think of a name plz plzplz tell me)

Chapter 1

: Long Lost Somethings

Baboom Baboom Baboom The bass was going insane in this song, causing me to bounce around even more than I would normally do. A young man I was dancing with accidentally touched my boob, normally I’d let it slide but he lingered a little too long. So I slapped his hand playfully and gave him a smirk. I turned to another boy and ground my hips against him whilst drinking from my wonderful bottle. From under the haze of vodka I heard the boy from my Last dance call me a slut. Normally I’d let that slide As well, but, I was under the influence so… I beat the shit out of him. I awoke On a couch Not my own, It was probably Some guys, I looked Around and saw I was Surprisingly still at the party. God, I was wasted, I prodded My face remembering the fight, It Appeared I only had a small black eye People were still dancing, I looked around and Remembered that this was my party, and this couch Was mine but covered in everyone's jackets. I saw on The couch across from me there was the boy I beat up, he Was not much older than me, probably a senior, I got him Good… One of his fingers was at an awkward angle… cringing I turned away from the carnage. I tried to sit up but Sera pushed me down. “You got really drunk Svea…” “Lemme up, and I’m sure you know by now, that’s not my name.” “What isn’t? Svea.” Cringing again as she said the name, I turned away. “Please…” Pity filled Sera’s eyes. “I’m not her anymore, so I don’t need you to say her name, nor do I need your GOD DAMN PITY!” I shoved away the nausea and Sera, and got up. I grabbed a bottle from a nearby counter “I think it's time you leave my party, Fina.” I told her looking over my shoulder slightly but not at her. It was a low blow at what her mum used to call her, but at least she knew her mum had loved her. “Please stop drinking Sam.” Then Serafina walked out the door. Normally I would regret what I said and run after her. There was a lot of stuff I normally did that I didn’t do anymore.

I walked away even though it hurt, She had been drunker than I had ever seen her, her accent so thick I could barely understand her words even without her slurring. Svea truly wasn’t the same person as she used to be, the person I climbed up on top of those bleachers with. I walked through the bushes to the house next door. We were no longer what we were, we weren’t even acquaintances. I didn’t know what we were before, but now… I didn’t know her at all. “How was it?” Myla asked, we had been having a sleepover before the Bjornar party started. “I saw an old friend,” Myla was the only friend I had since coming back from Britain. “You make it sound as if that's a bad thing.” “Yeh…” “What. What happened? Okay, something happened.” “Naw, I’m fine, Just really really really stressed.” I plopped down on the side of the bean bag chair Myla was using. Myla shoved me off so I laid on the floor. And gazed at the pocked ceiling. “Don’t worry, we can figure it out!” “She isn’t t' same person as before.” I moaned dejectedly. “Who was it?” I hesitated but decided to tell her. “ It was… ugh, it was Sam.” “Oh..” I couldn’t understand the look on her face, how did she know who Sam was, I mean she was always pretty popular, but Myla was a new student who knew the last name of maybe a total of ten kids. “Yeh…” “Well, you did miss a lot of st-” “Yeah! I see that,” I suddenly snapped, who was Myla to know anythin' about Jo! She didn’t know her! “Sorry, sorry, I’m just saying that I think you should find out about what you missed before trying to be her friend again.” “How do you know I want t' know her again? Say I did though, want to be her friend again, I should find everythin' out from her. N' sorry I snapped, I’m just really stressed. ” It was hard to stay angry when everything was this sad. “It’s ok, and I can tell by the way you said really three times. So what I was saying is that she will not trust you anytime soon, if you did want to be her friend again. Shit happened, I heard she's basically an orphan now. She drinks. Hangs out with like all the bad people. She’s got a drug addict as a best friend. You’ve seen her.” She made a hand gesture, that I was pretty sure meant I have a ton of other gossip about her, but I’m guessing you don’t really wanna hear it now, but don’t worry I will find someway to gossip with you soon, Damn, how can someone convey a whole compound sentence with just their hands? Without using ASL of course. But I hadn’t heard about any of this “What happened? And how d' ye know this about her? Last I checked you never talked to Sam.” “Honestly, everyone’s heard the rumors about her, even the new kids like me. Also we have band together!” She smiled cheekily, I sighed. I originally wanted to avoid her when I came back. But she was a black hole. Also it’s kinda hard to avoid her when we have nearly all our classes together, pass each other all the time in the halls, and live next door. “Ehhhh…” I moaned “...Maybe I should’ve just stayed in Britain.” “Then you wouldn’t of met me! Silly!” I laughed and we went to our sleeping bags. It was hard not t' be optimistic with Myla, but tears still pricked my eyes as I listened to the bass thumping through our neighbourhood... I didn’t know what to do. I had spent two whole years trying to forget about Svea, Sam. And now here I was, already basically stalking her and trying to figure out how to get her to like me again. I deserved her hatred though, I abandoned her. The splotchy purple designs around my room did nothing to calm me, and I drifted off to a fitful sleep.

I hate her I’m just trying To console Leah but I keep seeing Sera staring At me. I purposely ignore her And look down at the shit lunch the School hands out. Too stressed I throw Away my lunch and focus on Leah She’s having a bad day today, she Doesn’t touch her food and I Feel scared. I hate myself More than I hate Sera. I can’t even help My best friend. Leah starts to shake For seemingly no reason, I look around and see A teacher with dark Hair, it wasn’t Her dad who’s walking by, But Leah is terrified of him anyway. Her PTSD taking more control of her, I want to hug her and comfort her, rather than worsen it I Gingerly touch her hand and draw her attention. She looks at me and I motioned my head towards The bathroom across the hall. Leah nods and I get Up, thinking that I was going over to her Sera giddily Hit Myla and Myla gestured for us to come over as well. I turned away, not even being able to look at Sera for More than a moment. I thought I was over her, I guess I was wrong, I need to work on myself More, I don’t have time for feelings. The first time I had seen her in two years had been when she barreled into me after turning a corner. I had instantly tried to help her before realizing who it was. She never even hinted she was coming back from Britain, I guess she didn’t have my contacts anymore, but still. We realized who the other person was at the same time as I handed her her notebooks, we stared at each other for what seemed like forever, everything was still around us. Then in a flash I got up and ran.

I got up, I thought Svea had been heading over to me but instead she went to the bathroom. I knew I shouldn't follow her, but I just couldn’t stay here anymore, I needed to talk to her. I felt Myla try to pull me back down but it was too late I was already getting up. I could smell the smoke before I even got in the bathroom, someone was smoking some major shit. I prayed that it wasn’t Svea. I walked in and saw a sallow faced kid and Svea standing on the toilets passing a blunt over the stall walls, when they heard me they both ducked. “You smoke now, too, Sam?”I put as much emphasis on Sam as I could, I immediately regretted doin' that, I was better than that, but Svea just caused my brain t' go haywire. “Fan ni Sera.” “Vad hände?” “I see you learned some Swedish, ya kuk.” “Just that, I googled it t' period before because I wanted t' ask ye in yer own language.” “Pronunciation sucks.” “I’ll just go, it was a mistake for me t' come in here. it’s clear you don’t care about me…” “Helvete Fin, you are the one who doesn’t care!” The door to her stall opened up and Svea was fuming. “You left ME!” Her face crumpled as she realized she said the thing she had been trying so hard not to say. A whimper sounded from the other stall and Svea looked down and saw that she still had the blunt. Glaring at me, Svea knocked on Leah’s door, she waited a bit while glaring even harder at me. The door opened and Svea gave the weed to Leah before stepping into the stall and closing the door behind her. “Det ar dags att lamna.” “I’m guessin' you just asked me t' leave?” I got no response. “I missed you Sam.” I sort-of whispered, but I knew she heard. I stood there a little too long. I finally walked out of the bathroom only to run straight into Myla. “JESUS, SERA! You can’t run off like that! You need to control yourself! Come with me.” Myla grabbed my hand “ We are going to make a plan.” Myla dragged me into the empty swimming pool room thing, and then into the locker room. She still didn’t think this was enough and went to the storage room where they store… stuff… sorry I didn’t inspect the room from floor to ceiling, I was busy trying t' figure out what Myla was doing. “You're gay.” She didn’t ask, she just said it matter of factly, like that wasn’t my whole life. I had tried to hide it but clearly not well. “What? No...“ I said too sheepishly “Don’t try to deny it. I know it. And I know that you and Sam used to be more than friends, don’t ask me how I know that you are gay, I just have a really good gaydar for some reason. “But how did you know about me and Sam?” It still felt weird to say Sam. “I’ve seen you staring at that short haired, high cheek boned goddess all day. You also left our slumber party to go to her party and then were sad that you saw her.” Svea was some kind of Nordic Goddess, she was even more beautiful than when I left, she had grown into her little body and looked more like a small viking finally, instead of just a really short blond haired chick. I was surprised to see she had cut her hair into a boys style and bleached it when I first saw her, but it looked fantabuloso on her. I still had my black bob and green eyes, my body was still fairly lanky. She looked so much hotter than me. “Frick.” "Yep, I got you good girly.” “How are you ok with me bein' a lesbian when we live this far down south?” “Not everyone down here is religious and backward.” “Just most…” I said half joking. “And my family is originally from Hawai'i, and they never really had an opinion on gays.” “So what was it that ye wanted t' plan or whatever.” “Well it's clear that the both of you are still soulmates so I want you to woo her back.” “But what if she hasn’t come out?” “I mean she never specifically said it, but I’m sure no one would be surprised.” “What about t' incident?” I remembered how Myla had heard tons of rumors about Sam already, had what we had done gotten out to everyone? “What incident? I only moved here a year ago so I haven’t heard about any ‘incident’.” She used air quotes when she said incident. “ That's good, that means that it didn’t spread everywhere.” I breathed a sigh of relief and gagged as I smelled the rancid jerseys probably growing mold in the back of the room. “But what is this incident? “ When we were freshmen, fourteen year olds. We kissed on top of t' gym bleachers once and we got caught. It was my first kiss with a girl, same with Sam. T' gym teacher screamed at us about bein' sinners. He shouted about us bein' faggots and dykes and whores, that we were goin' t' hell and would burn there for eternity, we were mistakes and God hated us. “I ran away and convinced my parents t' take us back t' London, we were already going to be moving back at t' end of the school year, but I convinced them t' do it right then. I was too scared t' even think about what would happen t' us. We lived there for two years before comin' back here again this year. “I didn’t even think about Sve-Sam until we were on t' plane, on our way t' Britain. I abandoned her.” I slipped on her name almost calling her Svea, it didn’t matter t' Myla but I felt I should respect her wishes “When I got back she was like this and I don’t know what t' do, I don’t know what happened t' her. I almost didn’t recognize her in t' halls, especially when she goes by a different name.” “fuck.” “Yeah.” We sat there for awhile just staring at the musty old storage room around us and the old swimsuits before eventually starting our plan of wooing Svea back.

I was Walking down The hall like normal Heading to class again, Leah was to my left, I noticed Someone else next to me, I turned Slightly and saw beautiful Raven hair I walked a little faster I did not want to talk to her Now or ever, she didn’t get it. I Saw that she also picked up speed So I slowed down, she also did. “Ok, what do you want?” “To talk to you.” “I don’t want to.” “Please? We haven’t talked in two years Sam.” “Oh, and that's My fault?” “No.” I pulled at my hair and rushed away from her and waited At the next class for Leah. I hate her.

“Plan doesn’t work, time t' give up.” I said to Myla, eye-fockin' Sam from across the lunchroom. “ Stalking her in the halls once doesn’t count as a try.” “Yeah it does! I did a lot of hard work!” “You walked next to her for two minutes and then asked to talk, then she turned you down and you left. Hmmm, yes, I see, you just won over her heart.” “Grr.” “ Just say hi, give her a friendly wave. Start out platonic and work from there if she ever bothers to talk to you, and that's how it should be, her talking to you. Please don’t go up to her and start a heavy conversation again.” “I technically never really had a conversation with her.” I said with a smile “Or try to.” Myla responded not moving an inch (figuratively, we were walking). ”Also don’t go crazy, you are really awkward around her. Don’t go overboard on a simple wave.” “Come on, have some faith in me!” “Ok, she is looking over right now, just smile at her.” I tossed a smile over t' Sam but Myla smacked me in the back of the head. “You look horrendous! What kinda smile is that?” I rubbed my neck and glared at Myla. She didn’t have to do it so hard. Myla gestured back at Sam again who was holding back laughter. I made a face at Sam and she quickly tried to look serious. But we both ended up laughing. It seemed like a great start but then I saw the druggie whisper something to Sam and she immediately stood up and carried both of their stuff as they left the lunchroom. The next days were mainly the same, sometimes Sam never seemed to see me, or anyone besides the druggie. Just staring, into the void, the blue in her eyes was silent and screaming at the same time. It hurt me to see. On other days she just glared at me. But slowly the days where she smiled back, however meekly, started t' outnumber the glares. I still didn’t know what t' do about the void though, no matter how much progress I had with the glares, she was still fifty-fifty with the darkness. It was my fault that she was like this, we shouldn’t have kissed, I shouldn’t have left her to herself, to the world. She faced it by herself and lived, she did not overcome it though, and it was all my fault. We should have faced it together, but instead I left her. I abandoned her.

“I’m going to regret this aren’t I?” “OMGOMG! No! Of course not! Sit, sit!” “Sera, you need to stop. I’m Myla by the way.” I shook Myla’s hand “Sam, but you probably’ve heard About me before…” I trailed off, I knew I had a reputation. “I’ve missed you so much!” the normally really still Sera Bounced a little in her seat for some reason, “She’s Been waiting for this for a while.” Myla explained “Hey! Have not! I just finally got my friend t' Sit next t' me at lunch!” Sera tried to say. “Exactly Sera.” Sera frowned and looked Down at her lunch “What happened to you Sera, I was always the hyper one. You look like You downed two coffees!” I joked even though it Hurt that she wasn’t the same little girl hiding in a corner with A book. “Speak for yerself! I barely recognize ye!” I smiled with Sera even though it was the truth. I didn’t even recognize myself in the mirror. “How’s yer family doin'?” Myla kicked Sera under the table and she immediately tried to take it back, but my face still crumpled and fell for a moment, I recovered as fast as I could, Feelings are for the weak. I interrupted Sera before she could stumble around for five minutes trying to think of something to say, I was always the talker and when I was quiet, she tried to Be the talker but she would always fuck Up just like this. “Ma and Papa are in Sweden right now.” I weakly smiled and forced myself to make it look real. I hurt again as I realized I had Become quite good at this. “Leah decided to stay Home today.” “That’s yer Friend wh-that's the Friend you normally sit With right?.” Sera almost said The one who smokes. I used to get mad Whenever someone said anything like that but By now both Leah and I had gotten used to it. “Yeah she is, she always sits next to me, And yes she does marijuana.”

#story #my own work #shitty stories #lesbian #lesbian story #romance #i dunno

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taehcns-blog · 7 years

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✧ ・ﾟ ╮ ❛ without LOSING a piece of me, how do i get to h e a v e n ??

✧ ・ﾟ ╮ ❛ GENERAL INFO !

full name. hwan taehan. nickname. hannie. gender & pronouns. cisgender male, he/him. sexual & romantic orientation. homoromantic, homosexual. age & dob. eighteen; october 8th, 1998. birthplace. jinhae-gu district, changwon city, south korea. familial relations. mother —- hwan aera ( alive. ) father —- hwan jitae ( deceased. ) astrological sign. libra, the scales. dominant hand. right. handwriting style. near-flawless cursive script. languages known. korean, japanese, english, chinese. religion. agnostic. current living situation. upper level apartment shared with mother and grandmother. college major. business, minor in fashion merchandising.

✧ ・ﾟ ╮ ❛ APPEARANCE !

picture reference. one, two, three, four. blood type. type a —- traits include: kindhearted, timid, sensitive, anxious, perfectionist. nationality. korean. skin tone. light-medium complexion, warm olive undertone. birthmarks & scars. none. height. 5 feet, 5 inches, or 165 cm, or 1.65 m. build. petite frame; toned torso, thick thighs, shapely calves, larger than average buttocks. hair color. natural —- black. current —- rich dark brown. hair length. men’s medium. eye color. light brown, almost golden. eye shape. slightly down-turned, monolid. diet. vegetarian and seafood based, and mostly dairy free due to lactose intolerance. exercise & level of fitness. light jogging, yoga, and tai chi; moderate to above average. posture. due to yoga, he stands beautifully upright; nose raised high. typical style of dress. often pairs oversized sweaters & shirts with super skinny-fit jeans that are distressed in some fashion; accessorizes from head-to-toe; loves wearing pastels, and playing with vibrant colors; addicted to denim jackets, berets, baseball caps, suspenders, turtle-necks, short-shorts, and glasses of all styles. will be bold and wear an occasional crop-top, but only on rare occasions. body modifications. none to speak of.

✧ ・ﾟ ╮ ❛ BODY LANGUAGE !

how does your muse walk? on his tiptoes with a moderate pace, shorter strides, a gentle swing to his hips, and his arms swaying lightly. how does your muse talk? uses his hands in an animated fashion, and has a soft lisp that is only noticeable occasionally. prefers not to swear too much. what accent/dialect does your muse talk with? born & raised with a gyeongsang dialect due to being from changwon city, but has reasonably adapted to the gyeonggi dialect after relocating to seoul with his mother. while speaking english, he has a korean accent. how high ( or low ) is the tone of their voice? natural tenor range; medium-high. are they loud or quiet? soft-spoken & quiet; has a difficult time projecting his voice. what is their laugh like? many would call it ‘cute’ due to it’s lighthearted, giggle-like sound. it is nowhere near loud, but it’s rhythmic and sweet like a little bell. how does your muse typically smell? his desired colognes are sweet, fresh scents. he avoids anything musky or too stereotypically masculine. he’s extremely hygienic and makes sure to wear deodorant before leaving the house, as well as showering every single day to ensure cleanliness. he never smells bad, ever. that’s his worst nightmare. what kind of air do they carry? meek and small. it would be hard to notice him if it weren’t for his tastes in fashion, or his bright smile. he’s pretty shy, and it’s easy to tell. are they intimidating? not in the slightest bit.

✧ ・ﾟ ╮ ❛ PSYCHOLOGY !

what makes your muse happiest? seeing those he loves smile; knowing that they’re all safe, and sound, and pleased. additionally, he loves making new friends. taking breaks of alone-time to restore energy is equally important, too, as he’s introverted. what upsets them most? seeing those that he loves sad; loneliness, and not being involved in a romantic relationship; homophobic slurs; being taken advantage of. does your muse have any quirks? rocks back and forth on feet while standing still. plays with his lips when he’s lost in thought. absent-mindedly hums to whatever song is stuck in his head. has a tendency to look at his feet while speaking to strangers. what are their hobbies? he loves fashion and going shopping is one of the things he loves to do whenever he has some extra cash. additionally, he quite enjoys video games, primarily pokémon, and still purchases the new games, etc. whenever they’re released. moreover, he loves to cook, and testing out new recipes are some things he loves, too. how often can / do they do them? as often as his school schedule allows him to. a couple of times per week for video games and cooking, less frequently for shopping. do they have any guilty pleasures? he can watch fail videos on youtube for hours on end. is your muse an extrovert, or an introvert? a definite introvert. his mbti is infp. do they have high or low self-esteem? in all honesty, it’s a bit low, but that’s actively something that he’s working on. he knows he needs to be a bit more assertive, it’s just something that’s quite difficult for him. what about confidence? in some aspects, yes. he feels at his best when he’s dressed to the nines and talking to people he’s comfortable with. however, when it comes to anything new, he does feel a bit timid and it often takes him awhile to come around. are they easily stressed? not really. he’s very good at remaining calm through trying times. how do they respond to stress? he’s learned a variety of tactics in therapy that have helped him combat stress really well. he either plays a video game, reads a book, takes a long shower, or writes down his worries to put them into perspective. he handles it well. what is your muse’s worst fear? losing the people he loves. what is your muse’s biggest dream? reopening the restaurant his father had back in changwon city, and hopefully, a second location in seoul. that, and starting a fashion line. is your muse an early riser, or a night owl? he looooves sunrises, and prefers to get up in time the witness them each and everyday. he’s good about falling asleep at a reasonable hour, so i’d definitely say he’s more an early riser than a night owl. how intelligent is your muse, and do they acknowledge it? he’s fairly intelligent, but isn’t necessarily cocky about it. he used to get made fun of for being so smart in school, so he’d play dumb in order to escape bullying. he definitely has more common sense than academic talent, though, so while he’s smart, he’s no genius. what is their sense of humor like? he really likes obvious humor found in most cartoons and children’s series. more nsfw jokes fly right over his head, he doesn’t understand them all too well. he’s also a really big fan of bad pickup lines, and horrible puns.

✧ ・ﾟ ╮ ❛ RELATIONSHIP TENDENCIES !

what’s their sexual orientation? he’s a true homosexual. he’s tried dating women in the past, as he once thought he could get attached to them and treat them well, but he was often very unfulfilled in those relationships. he has a strict attraction to men, and is out and proud of it now. he knows its still a tender subject in korea, but that doesn’t stop him much from sharing his truth, even if he has to go out of his way to feel super comfortable. what about romantic? homoromantic, definitely. he wants to have a husband and a family someday soon if korea ever legalizes gay marriage and allows same-sex couples to adopt. what is their experience with relationships? very little to almost none. he’s never had a serious relationship or a boyfriend, but he wants one VERY badly. how does your muse view the idea of friends with benefits? i feel like he understands how other people could do that with no issue, but he’s afraid that if he tried that, he’d get far too attached and it’d leave the other person uncomfortable. however, he’s willing to try it out once or twice to see how it goes for him. he’d just have to give the other a disclaimer. have they ever had an fwb, or would they ever? he’s never had one, and he’s open to it, but still quite timid about the idea. he’s never had sex before, so he’d want it to be with someone that he deeply trusted; someone that he knew cared about him. sex, is it important to your muse? yes, it is. he’s never had it, but his sex drive is quite strong for being such a shy person. he just isn’t open with it. not only that, but he views sex as something that should be shared between he and the person he’s having it with ONLY, and that it should be meaningful, so he takes it very seriously. what are their biggest turn ons and turn offs? his biggest absolute turn on is ROMANCE. he wants to become one with his sexual partner above all else. he also loves it when a man is more dominant than he is since he lacks that ability. as far as appearances are concerned, he loves a taller man that’s quite classically handsome that has great style, amazing hygiene, and isn’t afraid to love him publicly. he’s a fan of strong legs, and round butts, too. as far as turn offs are concerned, he’d hate someone that was too forceful with him, as well as someone who didn’t take care of themselves in the slightest bit. he’d also be uncomfortable with someone that drank too heavily and didn’t have any control over it. does your muse find it easy to make friends? with females, absolutely! he really gets on well with girls as he’s been around them for most of his life. with males, he has some reservations. he’s been screwed over by them many times, so he’s more timid around them. however, being that he’s gay, that is something he’s trying to get over as fast as possible. how important is friendship to them? extremely important. he wants to make sure that he can be there for people, as well as call on them when he needs them, too. quantity or quality of friends? definitely quality. he doesn’t care if he only has ONE true friend, that’d be enough for him so long as they were good to him. how important is family? they’re normally his number one priority. he’s always there for his mother and his grandmother. he’d do anything to help them out, no matter what. are they close to their family? taehan is very close to his mother and grandmother. he holds them so close after the tragedy that happened to his father. he knows the pain of losing someone so special to him, and makes sure he spends lots of them with them.

✧ ・ﾟ ╮ ❛ HEADCANONS !

001. he often gets caught daydreaming all day, everyday. it happens especially whenever he sees attractive men in public. he often wonders what they’d be like as lovers, and his romanticism takes his mind on a journey as to what a relationship with them would entail. 002. he falls asleep really easily, especially on long car rides, train rides, flights, and during films. people often hate taking him to the cinema because he always passes out halfway through whatever movie they watch. it’s just something that he can’t help at all. 003. he has a collection of pokémon cards that he still adds to. he has about 12 binders full, but he hides them in his room because he’s scared people will think he’s too childish. 004. his favorite colors are pastels, primarily anything rosy, beige, or golden. 005. his favorite foods are seafood sundubu-jjigae, sashimi, sushi, dubu jorim, and pajeon. he also enjoys european cuisine, so long as there are vegetarian options. 006. lots of his friends ask him to help choose outfits, do makeup, etc. due to his aesthetically pleasant nature, and wide interest in color theory, etc.

#✧ ・ﾟ ╮ ❛ task. !#✧ ・ﾟ ╮ ❛ musings. !#seoultask

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hellstate--rp-blog · 7 years

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↪ b a s i c s ;

N A M E: Sherman ‘Tank’ Chester Doyle A G E: 28 P L A C E O F O R I G I N: Tacoma, Washington G R O U P: Cheyenne State Capitol O C C U P A T I O N: Hunter F C: Kit Harrington

❝ I can not remember even thinking that I was deaf when I was dancing. ❞

↪ p e r s o n a l i t y ;

P O S I T I V E T R A I T S: determined ; open-minded N E G A T I V E T R A I T S: insecure ; distractible

↪ b i o g r a p h y ;

L I F E B E F O R E T H E O U T B R E A K:

Sherman was born deaf. It came as a complete surprise to his parents, Grace and Thomas, that their otherwise perfect looking little boy would have such life affecting birth defect. Regardless, they did the best they could for their son but because of their economic situation, it wasn’t much. He learned sign language from an early age but they couldn’t afford a cochlear implant and were fearful about the health affects. Eventually his father found a job in England that paid far better than his job in the United States. The small family moved when Sherman was six, and due to the improvement in their financial situation and further improvements in the technology, he received a cochlear implant when he was eight.

Just two years later, Sherman’s father left- citing their financial difficulties and Sherman’s struggles as being too much for him to deal with. While Sherman had been making improvements in his speech and noise understanding, his father abrupt leaving pushed him back. He refused to speak, as his father was the one who had been pushing him to try and learn how to speak. Grace was despairing at caring for her son alone, so she moved them both from Nottingham, England back to her parents in Missouri when Sherman was ten.

Once there, the two realized Jefferson City, Missouri was no fit for the mother and son duo. Sherman was getting teased a lot and was withdrawing from his life while Grace was being ridiculed for being a single mother and her ‘unconventional’ love life. In a last ditch attempt, Grace showed Sherman a map of the United States and told him to chose a random city. She promised they would ‘run away’ to that city, and leave their life in Jefferson City. Sherman chose Seattle because he had never seen the Pacific Ocean. Grace found a compromise with her son, and they instead moved to Tacoma, because the rent was cheaper.

The move was the best thing that happened to them. They were able to blossom under the constant rain (and there was a lot of it) of the Olympic Peninsula. They didn’t live in Tacoma proper and instead lived in Parkland, but they still found the environment much more accepting towards them. In an effort to get Sherman reintegrated into normal life, Grace gave him an ultimatum: join a sport or club where he was required to have social interactions. In an effort to appease his mom, he joined the first thing he found- which turned out to be a dance class.

Instead of it being a boring or torturous pastime, dance became Sherman’s entire world. It was there, in a sweaty and dim dance studio, he made his first actual friendships. He earned the nickname of ‘Tank’ as a play off his admittedly old-fashioned first name. However, when his mother broke the news of another move, this time to Tacoma proper for better school opportunities, Sherman became hesitant. He had found his place in his little world. But to up and move? Now? Reluctantly, he agreed once he realized his mother had a better job and needed less commute time and he could go to a school specifically for the deaf. Sherman started his middle school years by spending the school week at the Washington State School for the Deaf, which he had to be bused to Vancouver, Washington for.

Five years passed uneventfully. Or nearly five years. In his final year of middle school, his mother found the woman she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. Lynda was an unexpected addition to his so far insular family world and Lynda’s daughter, Luz, was an even greater shock. As gay marriage was still eight years off, the two woman were content with co-habiting and sharing their lives in other ways. Their shared lives included their children from both their previous marriages.

At first Luz, two year his junior, was a slightly resented oddity to him for how easily she communicated with Grace, Lynda, and the rest of the world. He felt the feeling was very mutual but over the course of his high school career he became far closer to Luz. His dance career progressed rapidly but he also found another passion that would later become his job. In his freshman year he joined the computer club and found he fell in love with how a computer could understand him even if others couldn’t.

Graduation and finding a job passed by like a breeze. He even moved out, much to the fears of his mothers. They thought he might struggle with taking care of himself. He proved their fears wrong, and became surprisingly self-sufficient. Sherman took the bus to Seattle on a near daily basis to go to a dance studio in downtown Seattle, while studying to get a degree in computer sciences as he worked at a private web design firm ran by one of his friends. Luz joined him two years later as she studied for her medical degree. Two years after that, he graduated with honors from Washington University with a BS in Computer Science and Systems.

A year later, Grace and Lynda married when gay marriage was legalized in Washington. Sherman became comfortable in his role at the company and in the system of the dance studio. He became a part of multiple showcases in the dance community and became the assistant head designer at his friend’s firm. He also celebrated Luz graduating early and acted as a friendly ear for her to vent her frustrations with protest of the field she was working in. They created a nice little system for themselves. Sherman would work at Tidewater Design in the mornings, get off before lunch, drop off lunch for Luz at her workplace of Planned Parenthood, and then get on the bus to Seattle to go to the dance studio in the evenings. It was busy but satisfying, and Sherman felt like he was living the dream.

L I F E D U R I N G T H E O U T B R E A K:

It had just been another average day for Sherman. He ignored the rumors of a serious sickness spreading across the country and the empty desks at work. Sherman would continue his routine, even if the rest of the world decided to not. On the way to Luz’s work, he noticed a lot more cop cars out on the streets and a far larger crowd than normal outside of the clinic. He fought through the crowd, ignoring the slurs and insults around him. He had been called enough that he wouldn’t slow down to try to figure out what they were saying. He got through the doors safely. Luz asked him to spend lunch with her, and he accepted. He was being walked to his car by Luz when the outbreak finally caught up to them.

Sherman couldn’t understand the screams around him but he did understand Luz’s signs and her firm hand on his arm. Don’t get bit, keep close and don’t get separated from her. They we’re going to find Grace and Lynda. They got through the chaos by relying on each other but once they got to their parent’s home, they found house empty. At first Sherman thought all hope was lost, then they realized the picture albums and frames off the walls were missing. Their parents were alive.

After some deliberation they decided the most likely place Grace and Lynda would go would be to Sherman’s grandparents in Missouri. The journey was long and dangerous but they made fast time on their pair of motorcycles. Along the way they crossed through Cheyenne, Wyoming. Cheyenne looked like it was shaping up to be something good but they knew they couldn’t stop. Sherman became a bit more aware of his surroundings as they traveled, realizing Luz needed his support and he needed her’s.

They finally made it to Missouri but once they got to his grandparent’s house, they found a similar situation to the house in Tacoma. With the possibilities exhausted, they decided to head back to Cheyenne to see how the town was fairing since they last traveled through.

L I F E A F T E R T H E O U T B R E A K:

Sherman was content for a while in Cheyenne. He survived the loss of their first place of residence, a Gold’s Gym on the north side of town, and then the destruction of their first camp, South High School. He and Luz followed moved to the newer camp of the State Capitol but both events made Sherman realize that his family, who were his real home, not some building, was not complete. He still worried about his mothers and by extension their grandparents.

The worry became too much for him and he left the Capitol, leaving a note for his sister to find in morning. He knew it would break her heart but he didn’t want to put her in danger for his worries. Sherman knew he had always been an anxious person, and he didn’t want to bother anyone with his inner fears that his sister was the last living member of what he considered his closest family.

He traveled across the country, dodging the dead and the living that wished him harm. Sherman learned different skills, things to help him on his travels. He learned some krav maga and karate from a nice couple that use to run a dojo in Amarillo, Texas while he stayed with them for a couple of weeks as he recovered from a sprained ankle. In Big Lake, Texas he joined a survival compound for a short while and learned some basics for how to live off the land. Sherman even picked up some nice plans for a sustainable low water garden from their community he thought a certain someone back in Cheyenne would love to have.

When he finally made it to Acapulco, the hometown of Lynda’s grandparents he was relieved to find his moms and grandparents safe and sound. Grace and Lynda had made their own community, a mixed group of locals who got stuck in the Las Playas area and rich international tourists. The pair had become the leaders, and strong ones at that. They provided a safe haven for those who would be forgotten like Lynda’s parents and the children of an orphanage. The community, called ‘Las Madres’ for their leaders, had one major guiding principle — ‘the strong protect the weak.’ The community was organized and principled, ran by the pair and an elected council.

Sherman was impressed with what his mothers had established, but he wanted to bring the rest of his family back to Luz. His mothers said the community could run without them if it needed to and agreed that they wanted to see their daughter again. The only problem would be the transport of Sherman’s grandparents. His namesake was in a wheelchair now, so they had to organize a vehicle that could get them across the country. Sherman became a lead scout for the little group, clearing blocked roads and finding safe routes.

His mothers still had their protective streak for Sherman so once they came to the crossing of the Rio Grande, they developed a plan to keep him safe. The town they would cross through, one of the few remaining crossings in Texas, Ciudad Acuña was controlled by the Juarez Cartel and they charged toll for crossings. Grace and Lynda knew they and their parents would get through fine, the Cartel didn’t have much use for a pair of older woman and their crippled parents but they knew the criminals would have plenty of uses for Sherman.

They paid for him to cross the Rio with the help of smuggler. The smuggler had a iron cable submerged in the water, which they would raise out of the water about half a foot by moving a hidden truck by the mouth of the San Felipe Creek so crossers could hook themselves to the wire and swim across the river. Only the strong and the brave could make such a crossing, and Sherman had definitely become stronger and braver by his travels. He made it across safely but his sound processor, stuck in his pocket in a ziploc, suffered water damage and malfunctioned. It gave him intermittent bursts of sound but for the most part was useless. Yet he had made it and hid in Del Rio to wait for the rest of his family to cross the following morning.

Sadly, they never made it across. That night, Puente Internacional Presa la Amistad, the dam holding back the waters of Amistad Lake, about 15 miles up river, broke. The subsequent flood wiped out the bridge with a number of the Juarez Cartel in the town but luckily Sherman’s mothers and grandparents were out of the flood zone. Sherman found them through binoculars, as his walkie talkie he had brought across also had been damaged by water, and they communicated through the ever handy ASL.

They told him the grandparents would never be able to cross the river and Grace and Lynda didn’t want to leave them. They wanted Sherman to tell Luz they all loved her dearly and deliver the letter they gave Sherman in the event they got separated. They would go back to Las Madres, kept safe by their own personal guards, and they entrusted Sherman’s protection to his guard that had crossed with him. Sherman told them to stay safe and keep Las Madres safe, that he would miss them but he and Luz would try to come back and visit them soon. With a heavy heart, but still one made lighter by the knowledge that his mothers and grandparents were safe and still alive, he finally came back to Cheyenne. He knew he had made a mistake in leaving Luz alone but he hopes she can forgive him for his careless actions.

#kit harrington #rp #horror rp #horror rpg #horror roleplay #a.#m.#20 #capitol.#cai.#sherman doyle.

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