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streets-in-paradise · 2 years

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Daredevil Headcanons: Matt, Foggy and Karen with an argentinian friend

Word Count: 1436.

Relationships: Mostly platonical, but there are glimpses indicating that Matt has a crush on the reader. ( because I’m being blatantly self indulgent here and my love for Matt Murdock plays a role on that.)

Warnings: A shit ton of argentinian cultural references that I explained the best I could.

Note: I’m rewatching the first season of Daredevil and all the scenes of talking in spanish derivated in me coming up with this. I’m from Argentina and I rarely see us being portrayed in any media piece where characters of latin american origin get to speak their language, so I’m giving this to myself as a treat.

Everything in my blog is written on English, so i kept this little piece that way, but all the expressions in argentinian spanish ( that have accurate translations to english) were properly translated in brackets. Also, even when I wrote with a female reader in mind, this came up pretty gender neutral ( and I’m kinda proud for it)

Btw, this is my first headcanon post ever, I’m not completely used to the format.

- You meet them when they saved your ass on a legal issue.

- You lived most of your life in Argentina, inmigrated to the US alone and you were in a similar situation to Karen's in terms of connections. Like her regarding her moving to New York, you were there to begin a new life and you didn't have anyone else.

- They were literal sunshines and you have stuck with them since then.

- You connected with Karen and Matt first because, despite your english wasn't terrible, you were able to talk in spanish with them.

- Argentinian slang was their nightmare and that didn't change much. There are so many words with ambivalent connotations! How can pendejo or boludo be neutral words in certain contexts? Why does most of the vocabulary sound insulting?

- Matt likes the accent and he is never afraid of pointing it out.

- Foggy has asked you countless times to teach him how to dance tango. Mostly as a joke, but he really wanted to try.

- You aren't good at it, but you tried a few clumsy moves with him just to mess around and it was hilarious.

- You really can't dance tango, but you do great with cuarteto. You show him that instead and he instantly clicks with it.

- I really think that Foggy would love cuarteto. It's easy to dance and very fun, fits his cheerful personality.

- Introducing him to it would end up in you both shouting " RO - RO - RO - RODRIGO, CARAJO!!!" and cracking like fools at some point.

- Which leads to the mandatory step of making him try Fernet. It is the most popular drink of Córdoba, the province from where cuarteto as a music genre comes from.

- So you somehow get a bottle of Branca to share with everyone.

- He tried a first sip of it pure, complained about it being too bitter and you were like " That's why we mix it with coke. " rushing to prepare everything correctly.

- I feel that Karen would like it, for Matt it would be a bit meehh and Foggy would still find it too bitter, but tolerable.

- You did manage to make him like mate.

- When you made them try it they were all weirded by the " ritual of coming together" aspect of how it is supposed to be consumed. Matt in particular was the most weirded by it.

- Mate isn't individual, like coffee or tea mugs. They were supposed to drink it by sucking from the same straw-like thing, in rounds where it would circulate among them. You didn't knew that his enhanced senses would most likely make him feel the taste of everyone's lips.

- When he asked to have it first you thought that he was just too curious about it, but it is an implícit rule of the mundane ritual that whoever prepares it should have the first one because it doesn't tend to taste as great.

- " The first mate always tastes like crap, Matt. I have to make sure you will get to drink one of the good ones. "

- He was the second person in the round, but didn't keep drinking afterwards. You thought that he didn't like it, but it wasn't about the taste of the drink itself.

- You later noticed that, if you two were alone together and you happened to be drinking mate, he would have some with you. For some reason that you couldn't understand, he only accepted it from you alone.

- Of course, it was because he didn't mind getting a taste of your lips with his drink.

- Apart from drinks, you have also made them try some typical foods. All kinds of empanadas, desserts with dulce de leche and tons of other stuff that you gladly cooked for them.

- Foggy loves alfajores, Karen developed a particular liking for your pasta frola and Matt just seemed to enjoy trying most of the things you would bring for them.

- But what you truly saw him loving the most was the Chocotorta that you made for his birthday.

- You probably had to search for an american equivalent of cookie brand for the Chocolinas in the recipe, so you weren't sure if it was going to be a good translation of the most popular birthday cake in your country.

- He loved it and you were so happy to see that he couldn't dissimulate how much, something hard to achieve because his taste was always the hardest to impress.

- It was a hit, you ended up making two more on Foggy and Karen's birthdays.

- Overally, they all tend to have fun with your cultural references once you explain.

- You nicknamed Daredevil " El Caballero Rojo" (The Red Knight) after the character of" Titanes en el Ring", a very old but popular wrestling show.

- You don't even know that Matt is Daredevil yet, but you are singing to his face the character's song after coming up with the joke and he laughs just because of how much into it you are.

- Your swearing is unbelievable to them, you use unnecessary long phrases.

- You once called Fisk a “ reverendo hijo de mil putas” ( a stronger argentinian way to say son of a bitch) during a conversation you catched regarding him and you had to explain to Matt that you weren’t talking about a priest with that expression. It still didn’t make any sense to him.

- Aggressive swearing in argentinian spanish may escape from you when you are just too angry and Foggy thinks that you are the funniest angry person. Even when he can’t understand you, the sound of your swearing is hilarious to him.

- I almost forgot to mention that he is the first one willing to get into soccer for you.

- He would watch the World Cup with you when you wouldn’t have anyone else joining to cheer for your country and he would get to hear you scream and swear a lot when watching matches together.

- Because she has a better understanding of spanish, Karen would watch argentinian soap operas with you.

- Particularly for the bizarre concepts the writers tend to come up with and the hilariously bad execution of those crazy ideas.

- With the Media bombarding of Daredevil hate still fresh, you ended up showing her “ Padre Coraje” (Father Courage). It’s an early 2000’s soap opera about a guy who is a priest by day and a vigilante by night. (No kidding, this was a thing. The writers here are insane.)

- Matt heard you talking about your watchings of the show a couple of times, laughing at how insanely bizarre it was, and he had to avoid chuckling way too much.

- But the talk worked to get a glimpse of your opinions about vigilantes and the finding was pleasant for him. You were rather supportive of them and it was most likely that you were on board with Daredevil’s work.

- Hearing you gave him a bit of hope.

- I also think that Matt would like to hear from you about the catholic aspects of argentinian culture. After all, it is the birthplace of the current Pope. The stories of popular saints, La Virgen de Luján and all those sorts of things may be interesting to him.

- Growing up in Argentina, it’s most likely that you went to a catholic school as a kid or teen. Even among parents that aren’t particularly religious, catholic schools are a very common choice for education because those are the most abundant private schools. The country has this very paradoxical tendency where the most prefered college education is on public universities,yet most parents of a very wide variety in terms of social status prefer to send their kids and teens to private schools. The thing is that catholic schools usually have their own chapels to perform masses between classes on important dates and every argentinian who went to one of those schools knows how damn catchy the songs of the school mass are.

- And because you know of this, you started sharing with Matt all those cheerful christian songs that you have learned in school.

- He loves to hear you sing for him and most of the time the songs get stuck in his head, you both can get silly about it if you catch him humming.

- He wants to take you to the church of Father Lantom, hoping that he may convince you of joining the choir.

- Because he just really loves your voice and thinks you would do great there, but also because he can’t wait to introduce you and get to find out his opinions of you.

#daredevil fanficton #netflix daredevil #daredevil headcanons #matt murdock #foggy nelson #karen page #matt murdock x reader #foggy nelson x reader #karen page x reader #charlie cox #elden henson #deborah ann woll

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redxblueihateloveyou · 3 years

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I'm surprised people see Tadashi as the victim in his relationship with Ainosuke, when it's Tadashi the one who time and time again takes away Ainosuke's agency, without being able to see that he is throwing him unto unhappiness. I can't help but think that if Tadashi was not working at Shindo's house, Ainosuke would have maybe left or broke with the family. But he can't do that if he wants the relationship with Tadashi going on, seing how Tadashi is set on enforcing the family rules...

Hmm.. I def agree with the fact that Tadashi is not what most fandom makes out of him, my man (I mean, Adam’s man) is a 100% Slytherin. But I disagree with blaming him for this, after all the revealed info. The environment they were both raised in made their situation complicated.

I like Tadashi a lot, he’s probably my fav thing about this anime, bc he’s a dark horse, and I’m once again surprised, that so little ppl see him for who he really is, portraying him as an innocent puppy, which he is definitely not.

Now to why I think both Tadashi and Adam are victims of the dad and aunties in this situation.

We can of course say “if only they told each other how they really feel...”, but like we can say it about any love story really. Every author knows it’s no fun. The truth is that yes, they both hurt each other, and yes, if they were honest about their feelings things would’ve been different, but as I’ve already wrote under that “toxic” commentary on YT, lets look at the whole situation from both of their point of views:

We know that Adam when he was little always treated Tadashi as an equal, he never ever thought of him as someone lower than him and after their fall out, the only reason for this “harsh” treatment (well, besides their confirmed kink) was that Adam tried to get a reaction out of him, so Tadashi would stand up for himself, bc Ainosuke got mad about Tadashi caving to his dad’s wishes and abandoning him, when he needed him the most.

But now, knowing the fact that Tadashi was his dad’s secretary and was under his control, let’s see it from his perspective: Tadashi wanted to stay by Adam’s side, Adam’s dad implied that if Tadashi did say smth, he’s gonna be.. well, dismissed and they won’t see each other ever again. That’s what caused Tadashi to stay silent in that moment. Ainosuke instead saw this as a “he’s not on my side” thing, well, because. Tadashi won’t tell him his problem, bc dad and aunties control everything, so even if he does tell him, what a teen would do really? He didn’t have any powers back then to make his dad do anything.

And that’s when it all gone to shit, since they both were hurt for their own reasons. It’s easy to say leave the family, but 1stly nobody explained to Adam still that he’s physically and psychologically abused by his family, he sees it as them “loving him” and sadly also loves them, bc nobody told him, that love wasn’t supposed to be like that really. He definitely feels that smth is not right and feels emotionally exhausted there bc of this treatment, but did he ever consider leaving? I really don’t think so. He feels obligated to be worthy of a family, who “loves” him.

Do you think, for example, that Akashi Seijuro hates his dad for what he did to him? No. Does he understand that he wasn’t at fault for what happened to him and that his dad instead of comforting his child after his mother’s death, who was his only safe haven, made everything worse? I don’t think he does. Like his mom gave him basketball, an escape from all that family’s obligations and strictness. After her death, it was the only thing left that brought him joy, but his dad ruined even that, saying that if he’s gonna be bad at it/lose, he’d take it away from him too. Does Akashi see this as emotional abuse? No, he sees it like “well, I have to be the best bc I was born in such powerful family, so if my dad says that I must be best at everything, then I must.”

I personally hate such parents a lot. To me it doesn’t matter if Adam’s dad didn’t know about aunties hitting his child. Like if he was too busy to notice this and have no time for his kid and made his childhood miserable, it doesn’t make it any better really.

Same as with Akashi’s dad. Some are like “he was probably also grieving about his wife”. Emm? He was like this from the beginning, bc he treated Akashi not as his son, but as his heir. And yes, that’s different things. Same with Endeavor and Todoroki. Your child is not your post production thing.

2ndly they were too young, even if they knew about each others feelings and he didn’t feel obligated and told everyone to fuck off, they’d be on the streets now, but also Adam’s dad doesn’t seem like a guy who’d leave them alone really. Also eloping seems very romantic, but I don’t think it is, esp when you’re teens. Did you want him to sell some expensive watch and go live on Hawaii or smth? Bc finding a decent job there would be difficult at this age, esp with everyone knowing who your dad is. Chen Ke from “Antidote” survived bc he was 27 and had connections and some great friends. Adam was in high school, where would he go exactly?

Now let’s go back to now. Obviously all this time it didn’t even cross Tadashi’s mind that for Ainosuke he comes first and that he would throw everyone under the bus to make Tadashi stay with him. As we see at the end, he legit believed that Adam was planning to send him to jail and didn’t get that he said it just to shaken he up and that he knew who he’d set up for this from the beginning.

To Adam obviously it doesn’t matter whether they’re in a quarrel or not, he would never him go. Yes, he’s mad at him, he’s angry and hurt, but Tadashi’s still the person he needs the most, he’s still the person who brightens his days, even tho he deliberately behaves like he annoys him. He always looks at him and looks at him and looks at him, but then hisses smth to hurt him. Bc he knows that he needs him, but he also hates that he needs him, bc he thinks it’s unrequited.

And that’s how their classic romance goes in hellish circles. No one wants to talk as usual. Adam is mad Tadashi is like that bc his dad turned him into a slave with no opinion, while Tadashi is scared that Adam would be taken away from him bc of his ugly family.

Now I still think that no one and I mean no one can take Tadashi from Adam now, he is his precious. So my plan is... if Tadashi made aunties do smth against him or to get rid of him, aunties will go for sure. The problem is Tadashi still doesn’t get that he comes first, so we’re stuck in this hell still.

So anyways, my point is Adam’s heart basically sings “you got a hold of me, don’t even know your power” to Tadashi, but he doesn’t hear it, bc of his insecurities, the way he was raised and his status. But yes, he holds all the power. He’s both Adam’s sanity and insanity. No matter how cheesy it sounds he was basically his only ray of sunshine in the darkness, if you take it away, that’s what it leads to, that’s why Ainosuke-sama needs more ppl who care for him. I don’t want anyone to die next time, just cause Tadashi and Adam fought about where to put their new couch lmao. I’m kidding, but you know what I mean. And kill the aunties, pls seriously, we need to be free.

Also ppl need to remember that like lots of animes/characters are parcially inspired by some other animes/characters, also the chosen seiyuus are also very important, there are lots of stuff like jokes and references, that creators use, from characters being fully inspired by smth like “Assassination classroom” characters based on KNB, to little stuff like Levi dressed in Akashi’s uniform in chibi AOT bc Hiroshi Kamiya. Utsumi already said before stuff like she sometimes think of a perfect voice for the character and then fully forms him, we also know her clear love for sports animes. So yes, I doubt Tadashi/Kuroko thing is a coincidence and even tho someone was like “zone? is this knb or smth?” I was like no, zone is actually a common thing in sports, even tho most associate it with KNB including me, it’s not like its their invention, but there were things inspired by this for sure, and from other sports animes too and no, I don’t mean the basic sports anime tropes, I mean, like way too specific things, some character designes, too. And yes, Langa appearence and personality wise is a rinharu child for real, I can literally split his scenes in “that’s Haru”, “that’s Rin”.

That’s why I’ve said that this situation in fandom reminds me of Kuroko/Akashi situation a lot, bc same as here in KNB ppl for some reason automatically thought that Kuroko is this innocent sheep and Akashi is the wolf (but also like it was Akashi who chose to dress as red riding hood, while Kuroko was a wolf lmao), not even seeing who is in reality more dangerous and who can easily control who. It just buffles me bc it’s not some deep analisys really. I mean once again there’s a reason for the saying that the sub holds all the power over the dom.

And like just bc someone yells or threatens ppl constantly doesn’t necessarily mean he is a psycopatic killer, and just bc someone is quiet and doe-eyed, doesn’t mean he isn’t. I didn’t think we needed to explain this to someone, but aparently we do?

And it honestly kills me just how superficially ppl are watching things these days. It really gives me war flashbacks to stuff like the last mdzs s1 episode, where ppl started to comment things like “how LZ can be so heartless” lmao. Or that anonymous ask “do you think haru misses rin?”. Like you don’t see thing at all? Grey substance no needed, while watching things?

P.S. I also would die to see Adam vs Tadashi race just bc I for some reason can bet all my money, that it’s the same situation as with Akashi refusing to ankle break Kuroko, no matter how mad he is. I just can’t imagine Ainosuke hitting Tadashi in the face with a board. Like 100% sure he wouldn’t even try tbh.

#answered #anonymous #tadaai #tadashi kikuchi #shindo ainosuke #adam x tadashi #sk8 #sk8 the infinity #anime #this is what i think about these two at least

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jisungsplatforms · 3 years

Text

Dahlia

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x gn! reader

Genre: angst; hanahaki au, non idol au

Warning: language, mentions of cheating, tiny tiny spoilers & allusions to some of my other fics if you squint hard enough. Some elements of Felix x reader (purely platonic tho)

Note: this does NOT portray Stray Kids’ true personalities. This is all purely FICTIONAL

*this is one of my longest fics i’ve ever written so sit back, relax, and enjoy the show.

(Based off of (G) i-dle’s “Dahlia)

(Page II)

Dahlia:

“Signifies a lasting bond and commitment between two people;

symbolizes elegance, inner strength , change, and dignity...”

Hwang Hyunjin is bad news.

He’s a player, he’ll leave once he gets bored of you.

Hwang is no good for you. You deserve so much better, Y/n.

That was all you heard ever since you started dating Hyunjin. Different variations of it, all with the same connotation. People warned you, left and right, whenever they saw you two together. But you didn’t care, you choose to love him anyways, despite the rumors you’ve heard about him. It was all...

...Blind love. Sure, you fall in love fast, and every single time, you’ve been cheated on; but you knew that he was different, you could feel it. You had faith in Hyunjin.

Today was your one year anniversary. You sighed at the calendar hanging on your wall, a vase with a single dahila (given by Hyunjin a few weeks ago) sat on a table beside it.

“Did you know back then, lovers used to gift their beloved dahlias as a sign of everlasting love and commitment?” Hyunjin said with a pretty smile, holding a bouquet of a dozen dahlias.

“Oh really now?” you giggled, taking the bouquet into your hands. “Are you trying to tell me something?” You tilted your head, your eyebrows raised playfully.

“Hmm. Only that I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” he cheekily said. “And that I will love you, and only you, even for the our next 100 lifetimes.”

You writhed in giddiness, touched by his words. “I can’t wait then,” you said, planting a soft kiss onto his plump lips, the two of you smiling into the kiss.

That was a year ago; 3 months into your relationship, probably the happiest year you’ve ever had. Every day with Hyunjin felt magical, like it was too good to be true. He was nothing but gentle with you. He held your hand as if you were glass. His eyes stared into yours as if you had the shiniest of diamonds for eyes. His beautiful smile always made your heart flutter, but his kisses was what really did the job. You thought that you could never had enough of him. You were his princess and he’s your prince charming.

But little did you know that the magic will soon wear off...

You stared at your phone in sheer disappointment.

Sorry, I can’t make it today. Something really important came up and I can’t miss it.

-was what was written on your screen, sent by your boyfriend. Bringing the phone closer to your face, you replied.

Really? You can’t skip it? Or even do it later?

Nope. Sorry, babe. There’s nothing I can do.

Oh...okay then.

Cheer up, babe. We’ll just go on a date on another day! I’ll make it up to you. Promise! :)

‘Go on a date on another day’ For some reason, reading that message shot a pang of hurt through your chest. To you, it basically implied that today was supposed to be just ‘another date’ for you guys.

Did he...forget that it’s our one year today? you thought sadly at the possibility as you put your phone down. Shaking your head, you tried to erase the negative thoughts from your mind. No no no, Hyunjin wouldn’t have forgotten. He was the one who even arranged the date! You held your cheeks in your hands. Sighing, you stood up to leave your bedroom to get a glass of water, feeling a heaviness to your chest. A million thoughts ran through your head as you made your way to the kitchen.

Is it possible that he really did forget?

Is he lying to me?

Am I just overthinking things again?

Or did he finally get...bored of me?

Looking back, you started to think about how lately, Hyunjin has been cancelling and rescheduling your dates. Every time you text him, asking him to come over, he’d reply with something along the line of “can’t i’m busy. sorry.” Of course you felt hurt, but you always told yourself, he’s a busy man. We don’t always have to be together.

And of course, you werent oblivious to how every month, the amount of dahlias Hyunjin used to give you slowly decreased. Once a dozen dahlias became only 8. 8 slowly became half a dozen. Then 6 became only 3. But you’ve convinced yourself that you didn’t need flowers to determine how in love you were, telling yourself how expensive live flowers actually are, so it makes sense he’ll end up giving less flowers. That’s it. That’s what you’ve conditioned your mind to think.

You’ve convinced yourself that Hyunjin truly is a good guy.

You didn’t even realize you were already in your kitchen until you felt yourself holding the cup to your mouth, the cool liquid making it’s way down your esophagus. You put the cup onto the counter, mindlessly staring at it. Maybe your were just overthinking things. That’s it.

Trudging back to the bedroom, you sat on the edge of your bed, sighing heavily, trying to contain the tears that were threatening to come out. Your lit up with a notification.

—

From Lixie Ramsay 🧑‍🍳🍽

—

Hey Y/n, are you feeling well?

Seeing a text from Felix, you grabbed your phone.

Not really. How’d you know??

Idk. I guess you can call it...best friend telepathy :D

You smiled, typing in another reply.

Well thank GOD for bsf telepathy cause I feel like shit rn.

Overthinking again?

Yes :(

Aww sorry to hear that dude :((

Wait. What happened with Hyunjin? Isn’t it your anniversary today?

Your heart ached at the message, the good mood you were slowly feeling again plummeted. Luckily, Felix noticed how long you were taking to reply to him.

Ah nvm... Anyways, I’m pretty much free rn so that meeaannnsss...I’ll take you out on a date instead!

Even though you were wallowing in misery, you couldn’t help but tease him.

You? Pass

How rude. And here I am being the greatest friend anyone could ask for, and you have the audacity to be picky?

Have fun with your pity party then, best friend

You sniggered at his reply. No no. I’m sorry I’m sorry, I’ll take up your offer LOL

Good. Be ready in about 20 mins. I’m coming over so we can go to the café together!

Okayyy :D

You got up and put on a nice, but comfortable outfit to go out in with your best friend.

You were just sitting on your couch, awaiting for Felix’s arrival when you heard a knock on your door.

“Y/n! It’s meee~!” came his loud, deep voice. You chortled as you got up from your couch, making sure everything was secured before going to your door. You opened it to see Felix’s bright smile greeting you.

You giggled, opening the door wider. “‘Sup, bro,” you nodded your head. Felix returned the gesture.

“‘Sup. You ready?”

“Yup! Let’s go.” Before you could get out of your house, Felix stopped you.

“Wait wait! I have something for you!” he lightly pushed you back inside. Only then did you notice that he was holding a single sunflower in his left hand. Your eyes widened a little, confused.

“What’s this?” you asked.

“A sunflower!”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Duh, I know that, but what’s it for?”

Felix beamed. “Well, I knew that you were feeling sad today, and I heard from someone that sunflowers are known as “happy flowers”, so I thought that I should give you one! To cheer you up!”

You looked at the flower in awe, incredibly touched by his gesture. “Lix...” you trailed off, feeling happy tears beginning to prick your eyes. You took the sunflower from his hands and stared at it, already feeling the positive vibes radiating from it.

“I know, I know. I’m the bestest best friend anyone could ask for. Now let’s go! I’ve been dying to try the carrot cake in that new café a few blocks down!” Felix said, sliding his arm to yours, “I heard that they have one of the best carrot cakes in town.”

You looked up from the flower to look at him, grinning. “Thank you so much for this, dude. I really appreciate it.”

Felix shrugged with a small smile on his face. “It’s the least I could do. Really.” He waited for you as you locked your front door, arms still linked, then making your way to go to the café Felix has been dying to go to.

The two of you walked together, catching up on each other’s current events going on in your lives, seeing how you weren’t able to for the past two weeks. Right now, Felix was telling you about a certain crush he has in one of his classes.

“Ooh, so, have you tried asking them out? Or even just told them that you’re interested or something, in the very least?” you wiggled your eyebrows. In response, he sucked in his breath a little. His face contorted in a slight grimace.

“I...tried to...” He said with his teeth clenched. You looked at him in puzzled.

“What do you mean ‘tried to’, Lix?” you asked. “It’s either you did or you didn’t.”

Felix sighed in embarrassment, his mind wandering back to the memory. “I sorta might’ve accidentally revealed that I liked them but sorta might’ve got embarrassed and accidentally took it back?”

“What?” you deadpanned.

“Okay okay. It’s dumb. I know. But they were so SO cute just talking, TALKING, and it just slipped out, I guess!” he said, exasperatedly. “I really couldn’t help it! Honest! So, I just panicked and covered it up by saying ‘I’m so lucky to have a friend like you'”

You looked at him blankly, slowly unlinking your arms. “Oh no,” you sighed, slightly shaking your head. “Oh baby nooo...”

“Yeah. I’m pathetic, I know.”

You hummed in pity, patting his shoulder. “A little, yeah, but it’s okay. Things like that happen, unfortunately. Don’t worry though, it’s not like it’s the end of the world,” you grinned, “You’ll have a lot more chances to actually confess in the near future.”

Felix nodded, crooning. “You’re right, Y/n. Thanks,” he said, giving you a hug as he gave you his well-renowned sunshine-like smile that you couldn’t help but smile back.

“No problem.”

Topic after topic, the two of you were so immersed in your conversation that you guys arrived at the café.

“Finally!” you cheered. “That was a surprisingly long walk.”

Felix sighed. “For real. But on the bright side: carrot cake!”

“Is the carrot cake even that good?”

“Dunno. Only one way to find out!” Felix walked a few steps ahead of you to open the door for you when he suddenly stopped. His whole body went rigid. In a blink of an eye, he turned around, gently pushing you away from the building. “Darn. What a shame, it’s full today. Oh well,” he frantically stated.

You glanced back behind him to check the inside yourself, only to see that it was only half full.

“What’re you talking about? There’s totally enough space for us. Let’s go.”

Felix’s face was full of dread. His body was stiff, his eyes shook a little as he maintained eye contact with you. He was nervous, and you could tell.

“You’re not okay. Is there someone in there you wanna avoid?” you said in urgency.

“Uhm. You could say that,” he murmured, looking down. Looking back up to see if there were any shifty looking faces that were in desperate need of a beating, your heart dropped in horror and dispair. Through the window, you saw Hyunjin, your boyfriend, sitting with a pretty looking lady. You watched them with woeful eyes as they smiled and laugh with each other. You couldn’t believe it, you didn’t want to. You wanted to believe that this was all a misunderstanding. You only snapped out of it when you felt Felix’s small, warm hands.

“Let’s-uh- let’s just go, yeah?” he said quietly. Nodding mindlessly, you let him lead to somewhere else. Anywhere but here. Felix rubbed your back, trying to give you any kind of hug he could give you as you walked away. You tried your best to push back the cough making it’s way to your throat. Good thing Felix was guiding you the entire way, others you would’ve fallen due to your blurry eyesight.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into your ear. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

It’s okay. You have nothing to apologize for, is what you wanted to tell him. But you couldn’t, for if you do, you might end up breaking down in the middle of the streets. You breathed heavily, containing both your tears and the pressure down in your chest and throat.

You snuggled closer to your thick blankets, trying to assimilate the warm you crave for from it. Felix was by your side, rubbing soothing circle to your back. You guys never went to go to another café. Instead, he led you home, seeing how it wasn’t the right time for you two to go out. You appreciated his gesture. It makes you wonder why can’t every guy be like your best friend, your brother, your soulmate. Felix let out a long exhale.

“Man, I-I’m sorry you had to see that, especially on your anniversary,” he soft said. Felix was furious, not only at Hyunjin, but himself as well. He felt like he couldn’t protect you, like he failed as your best friend.

“It’s okay, Lix. I’m fine,” you murmured. “Actually,” you paused, “I’m not fine. But you don’t have to apologize for something like this. This had nothing to do with you.”

“I know,” he sighed. “Im just frustrated, you know. I’m mad that you’re hurting like this.”

“Yeah me too,” you said emptily. “I just hope that this was just a misunderstanding.”

“He better damn well make sure that it’s just a misunderstanding,” he grumbled. “Otherwise i’m gonna have to settle some things with him. Hope he knows that i’m a black belt in Taekwondo.”

You snorted. “Thanks, Felix.”

“I will have a ‘chat’ with him. Mark my words.”

You laughed at him. You could faintly feel the angst in your heart lessen, but not completely go away. Hearing your front door unlock, you stiffened. You tried your best to not look at it.

“Babe! I’m here!” Hyunjin’s voice rang at the entrance. You felt Felix’s hold on your form tighten. Hyunjin walked closer to you two.

“Hey, Felix,” he said flatly. “didn’t know you were coming here.”

“Hmm.” Felix nodded his head, not even trying to make eye contact with the tall brunette. Hyunjin nodded back in annoyance.

“Anyways, you can leave now,” he sneered with his jaw clenched. “Your job is done. Now it’s my turn to spend time with my beloved.”

Both you and Felix tensed at his words. He looked down to look for your approval. Seeing your unsure nod, he hesitantly let go of you, watching you as he does so.

“It’s okay,” you mouthed to him. He made a sharp breath as he stood up, still refusing to look Hyunjin in the eye.

“Goodbye,” Felix called out, more to you than the other. You felt a sense of foreboding when you heard the door shut. From your side, Hyunjin let out a harsh groan.

“Finally,” he said, sitting down as he wrapped his arm around you. You couldn’t let yourself relax in his arms like how you’d usually to. You just felt uneasy in his presence right now. “So? How was you day? Missed me?” Hyunjin asked. You couldn’t take it anymore. You couldn’t bring yourself to pretend anymore.

“Are you cheating on me?” you more declared than asked as you sat up straight. Hyunjin’s eyes widened for a millisecond, a flash of fear in his eyes, but he just played it off.

“How could you accuse me of something like that?” he said, defensively. “I’m your boyfriend. Don’t you trust me?”

You bit your lip nervously. “I saw you, Hyunjin. At the café.” His face contorted in panic but quickly masked it as disbelief.

He scoffed, “Well you saw wrong, Y/n. That was just a friend, I would NEVER cheat on you.” He shook his head disappointingly, removing his arm from you. “I can’t believe that you would ever doubt me, babe. I’m actually really hurt by this right now.”

You felt a wave of guilt rush over you.

“Oh...I’m sorry,” you muttered. “I just thought-“

“You thought what? That the rumors were true?” Hyunjin laughed sarcastically. “Man, and here I thought that you were different.”

Your eyes teared up even more as the guilt inside your chest increased. Was I really wrong? you thought. “No! I’m-I’m sorry, Hyunie! I didn’t know! I just felt hurt because today was su-”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s okay. Let me just, be alone for a while, Y/n.” Hyunjin quietly got up and walked out of your house. You walked as he slammed the door on his way out, wrapping the blanket tighter around you. You were starting to regret letting Felix leave. The air around turn colder in your empty apartment.

It was supposed to be our one year anniversary, you thought, finally letting your tears out. And yet again, you tried controlling the tickling down your throat.

“He told you WHAT?” Felix exclaimed, looking at you incredulously. You had to shush him when you noticed some of the other people in the coffe shop giving you both tiny glares.

“He told me that it was just a friend that he had to me,” you said, quietly. “And that he would never cheat on me. He also said that felt hurt that I didn’t trust him, so I felt bad cause he did looked super upset.”

Felix rolled his eyes as he let out a sardonic “ha”. “That’s rich. Coming from him?” You let out a tiny pout.

“I don’t know, Lix. He seemed like he was telling the truth though?”

“Yeah, seemed, Y/n. I don’t know if you should trust him anymore. And besides, it even sounded like he was trying to make you feel bad instead of apologizing.”

“Well yeah cause-” Felix cut you off, holding up his hand to stop you from saying anything else.

“That’s gaslighting, bud. A huge red flag if you ask me. He didn’t even remember that it was your anniversary!”

Scrunching your eyebrows, you pondered upon Felix’s words. You knew he was right, but you really wanted to give Hyunjin the benefit of a doubt. All of a sudden, you felt a pressure in your chest. In need of relief, you coughed into the juncture of your arm. Felix winced in pity.

“Ooh, sounds nasty. You good there?”

You nodded as you continued coughing, giving him a thumbs up. Once you finish with your fit, you cleared your throat a little, grabbing the water bottle beside you to drink.

“Mhmm, yeah. Just a tickle, that’s all.”

“You sure? You’ve started coughing since yesterday,” Felix stated. “Are you sure you aren’t getting sick cause of the weather or stress or something?”

“Uhh nah. I don’t think so,” you said. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

Felix hummed, totally unconvinced by your reasoning. He knew deep down something was wrong; he just didn’t know what. It was quiet for a while until Felix up at the window and let out a little gasp. You raised your eyebrows at this, silently asking him what’s wrong. He glared a little at the window before turning to you.

“Hate to do this but look. Behind you, don’t make it obvious.”

You slightly turned your head to see what he was looking at. Your eyes widened. You saw Hyunjin and the same girl from 2 days ago, passing by at the other side of the window, hand in hand. You watched in disbelief as the girl tipped toed to kiss his cheek while he giggles. You quickly turned your head in the other direction to avoid him as they walked by, feeling the pressure in your chest worsen. It hurt even more when you remember the small bouquet of dahilas in her hands. You felt your eyes burning with tears, sucking in deep breaths. Turns out that that was a mistake.

You calming yourself back-fired. You ended up having a coughing fit; but it didn’t feel like any cough you’ve ever had. It felt way heavier, like you were almost suffocating. Bringing a fist to your chest, you pounded on it as if it would help. You didn’t know if the tears in your eyes was from the couch or seeing your bastard of a boyfriend. You couldn’t even open them so you opted to just keeping them shut .

“Y/n?!” Felix yelled out in alarm. You felt him come up behind you, rubbing your back. “Oh shit...” you heard him breathed out. You slowly opened your eyes and turned to him. He looked frantic, but he wasn’t staring at you, rather on the floor. You looked back to see dahlia petals on the floor.

Huh? you thought in bewilderment. Last time you checked, there wasn’t any plants in the shop, aside for the plastic Swiss Cheese plants in the corners of the place, if they even count at all.

Felix noticed your gaze on the petals. “That shit’s from you,” he pointed out. “We need to get you to a hospital. ASAP.”

You looked at him weakly. “But-“

“NOW, Y/n.”

“I- what?” you gasped in horror.

“You’ve, unfortunately, contracted the Hanahaki Disease,” the doctor announced in sympathy. Felix rushed you to the nearest hospital after your little scene. When you arrived there and told the receptionist at the entrance, she immediately paged you to the emergency room. You were scared. You didn’t know what was so urgent to rush you to an emergency room.

“Hantahapki? What the hell is that?” Felix asked, coming out rather aggressively. He was horrified; who wouldn’t be if they witnessed their best friend coughing out flower petals.

“Hanahaki,” the doctor subtly corrected, “It’s a rare disease that makes you cough out petals. Not many people gets it.”

Your heart beak was fast. If it was rare, then who knows what could happen.

“Okay, Hanahaki. So do you know how Y/n got it?”

The doctor removed her glasses and put it on the desk beside her. “Well, though it is a rare disease, we do know enough about it,” she declared. “The Hanahaki disease, fortunately, isn’t contagious and is only produced from unrequited love.”

You let out a shaky sigh. “So it is true. He doesn’t love me anymore,” you muttered. You felt the familiar pressure in your chest so you relieved yourself, petals spewing as you coughed. Felix immediately rubbed your back in alarm.”

“Is there anyway to treat it, doc?” he worriedly questioned. The doctor nodded.

“Yes actually. One option is for the patient’s love to be returned by the recipient,” your heart dropped a little hearing this “-or the other is to undergo surgery.”

“Surgery?” you both inquired at the same time.

The doctor nodded again. “Yes, surgery, our safest option. However, doing so will result in Y/n loosing all feelings of love altogether.”

“So what you’re saying is,” you said slowly. “-if I do the procedure, I won’t be able to love again?”

“Unfortunately, yes. Romantic love that is. You can still love people platonicly, like your friend over here,” she said gesturing to Felix. “Family and friends, basically. You just can’t have romantic feelings for anyone else, even if you really wanted to.”

You and Felix looked at each other in sorrow. “I,” Felix started off, “really think you should do it.”

You bit your lip as you shook your head. “I don’t know. This is a pretty big decision. Can’t I just, like, think about it for a while? Before I really decide if I want to do this?”

“Of course you can, Y/n,” the doctor said. “Just don’t take too long making a decision, okay? Because it will kill you, if you don’t decide on time.”

The two of you looked up at her in horror. “KILL?!”

She winced a little at your loud voices, prompting the two of you to apologize. “Yes, kill. Those aren’t just petals coming out of no where.” She gestured to the pile between the tree of you. “They have to produce somewhere. At first they’ll start of as a little bud, that’s why as of now, you’re only coughing out several petals each cough, eventually getting bigger and bigger until the flower in your lungs fully bloom, which could end up bursting out of your chest.”

Felix turned to you in pure terror, slightly shaking you. “I REALLY think you should do the surgery today.” You brushed him off of you.

“Okay yeah, that’s terrifying, but I won’t be able to love ever again, Lix!” you countered. He look at you like you were crazy.

“You won’t be able to feel ANYTHING if you don’t!”

You contemplated on the situation. You didn’t know what to do. The doctor interrupted your train of thoughts.

“Don’t worry, Y/n you have about a few weeks minimum to make a decision. Luckily you came to us the day you started coughing out the petals. Otherwise, if it happened earlier and you kept it to yourself, you might’ve...you know.” You shook your head in acknowledgment.

“Yeah. Okay, thank you, doc.”

It’s been 5 days since you’ve been to the hospital; 5 days you’ve been diagnosed with the Hanahaki Disease; 5 days since you’ve last seen Hyunjin.

You still weren’t sure if you wanted to undergo the procedure. Felix said that this was the best option, but you didn’t want to listen. You still had hope in your heart that maybe, just maybe, Hyunjin still loves you deep down. You heard your phone ding from the table. You picked it up and saw that is was from your “boyfriend”.

Hey! Haven’t seen each other in a while. Wanna talk?

Your heart sped up. You didn’t know if it was from excitement that he finally contacted you, or fear that you might end up finding out the whole truth. Your fingers typed out a reply.

Yeah, come over today. I’ve missed you

Liar, you thought to yourself.

Sure! See you soon!

You typed out your final reply, burying your face into the throw pillows.

A knock was heard from your door, signaling Hyunjin’s arrival. You tensed buy quickly calmed yourself down. You got up to let him in. You were greeted by his big smile, which you knew now was fake.

“Hey, babe! I’ve missed you!” he cheered.

Fucking liar. Putting one a fake smile, you said a quick “miss you too” and let him in. Closing the door, you gave yourself a mental pep talk before going straight to the point. You turned around to face him

“You’re cheating on me,” you stated, emotionlessly. You didn’t even say it as if it was a question, you knew. Hyunjin looked panic before composing himself.

“Again, Y/n? I told you, it-”

“I SAW YOU, HYUNJIN!” you cried out, not even containing your emotions anymore. “I SAW YOU OUTSIDE OF THE CAFÉ. I SAW YOU HOLDING HANDS. I SAW HER KISS YOU AND YOU DIDNT PUSH HER AWAY. IN FACT, IT LOOKED LIKE YOU ENJOYED IT.” You walked quickly towards him to push his chest.

“WHAT’S WORSE WAS THAT I SAW THE DAHLIAS YOU GAVE HER, A FLOWER THAT YOU SAID WAS SPECIAL TO US!” you fell to the floor, sobbing. The jig was up, Hyunjin knew.

“I trusted you Hyunjin...I really did. I even convinced myself that you weren’t like the rumors said,” you said weakly, already too tired to scream. “I love you. How could you do this to me?”

Hyunjin watched as you broke down. He didn’t know what to say; how to comfort you. He couldn’t even lie to you anymore. He felt bad for you. But he could’nt deny that he’s lost feelings for you.

“I’m sorry...”

Hearing this made you cry even more, you cradled your chest as you sank deeper to the floor. He didn’t even deny it. He didn’t even try comforting you. You heard his heavy footsteps leave your house, closing the door behind him. Your heart lurked even more. So this is it, you thought.

It hurts.

It hurts so fucking bad.

You were used to being cheated and lied to, so why did it? You clutched your burning chest, trying to regulate your breathing. More tears spilled out of your eyes.

It was because you genuinely loved Hyunjin.

You couldn’t take it anymore, you started wheezing out the dahlia petals out of your chest. A bunch of petals flew out of your mouth. You couldn’t breathe. It was too much. You crawled to your phone to call Felix. It rang once, twice, before he finally answered.

“Y/n?”

You could’ve even speak anymore, the room started spinning, your vision started blurring.

“Lix...hospital...” you managed to let out before collapsing.

“Y/n? Y/n!”

You woke up to the sound of beeping. You looked around and noticed that you weren’t home anymore. You tried getting up, flinching when the IV bag connected to you stopped you.

Ah, I’m at the hospital.

You laid back down and relaxed, trying to relive what happened last time you were awake. All you remember were blurry images of you crying, petals, hearing Felix’s panicked voice, then nothing. You eyes shot open at the thought.

Felix?!

You looked around the room to finally see him sleeping in the corner. You could faintly distinguish the dried tear marks on his freckled face.

He must’ve been here for a while.

The door know turned to reveal the same doctor to diagnosed you a few days prior. “Hello, Y/n,” she greeted, standing by your bed. “Seems like you’re doing well now.” You nodded. You tried speaking to answer her, only to find that you couldn’t because of how dry your throat was. The doctor noticed this and shook her head.

“Don’t. Just rest, it’s okay.”

You bowed you head as a slight thank you. She walked closer to you to pat your head.

“Congratulations, the procedure was a success.”

You eyes widened at the implication. So that’s why you’re here. It all made sense now. You have her a smile as you gave a raspy “thank you.” She talked to you for a while before deciding to leave you to rest a little more. She announced you could be discharged from the hospital by tomorrow.

You felt a little disappointed that you couldn’t love anymore, but still overall glad that you’re still alive. You glanced at the papers the doctor left on the table beside you, grabbing it to read it a little just to see that is was just your information. Beside it, you saw that she also left a cup of water for you. You gulped it down, letting out a relieved “ah” went you finished.

You didn’t want to think about anything right now, and you sure as hell didn’t even want to think about your now ex-boyfriend. You closed your eyes to think about what went wrong in your life. Especially now that you have to live without loving anything the way you want to. You contemplated with an emptiness in your chest.

Our love is-

“...however, they do carry negative connotations;

betrayal, dishonesty, instability.”

-Dahlia

—————————————————————————

(Case #XX1-

Name: Y/n L/n

Patient: Cured; Discharged: XX,XX,XXXX at XX:XX)

——————————————————————————

(Back to Page I)

A/N: PHEW FINALLY DONE WITH THE FIRST PART OF THE SERIES. IVE BEEN EXCITED TO WRITE THIS FIC FOR A LOOONG TIME. (G) I-dle’s “Dahlia” is what inspired me to start the Hanahaki series so THANK YOU MINNIE

#stray kids #skz #stray kids fanfic #skz scenarios #skz imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids angst #skz hyunjin #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin angst #hyunjin x reader #skz felix #hwang hyunjin #lee felix #skz hanahaki au

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billiejs · 3 years

Note

Request Julie and the phantoms are on tour and juke dating , one stop on tour Luke gets sick (woke up with fever, swollen glands, sore throat etc) and doctor diagnoses him with strep and ear infections and Julie takes care his stubborn butt back at the hotel because he doesn't like to let down the fans since they have to cancel few shows.

Here you go anon, thanks for the promp! Julie and the Phantom Drabble, 1.1k, Julie/Luke, very vague angst and very vague mentions of death

“I’m fine, I swear!” Luke sniffs noisily, trying to force himself up from the tour bus bunkbed Reggie is all but restraining him onto.

“Yeah, a ray of sunshine.” He grunts, keeping him down so that the doctor has access to his throat.

Julie bites her lip, standing behind the doctor. Luke looks feverish, his cheeks are pale and his nose is red and snotty. The dark bags under his eyes could carry all of their instruments to the next venue they’re supposed to play at. She hates seeing him like this, and her chest tightens the same way it does whenever she’s confronted with sickness. Even after all these years, she can’t help but feel as powerless and scared as when she was standing beside her mom in her hospital bed.

“Strep throat, ear infection.” Doctor Jameson declares with a sigh, tugging on her stethoscope. “A minimum of two days of complete rest is mandatory.”

Luke’s face is the exact reproduction of Munch’s Scream, if Munch had wanted to portray a twenty years old rockstar faced with existential dread.

“What?” He shrieks, his voice breaking painfully and making him explode in a cough attack that sends Reggie zooming to the end of the bed. Alex, ever the anxious germaphobe, is peeking from behind the closed curtains of his top bunk bed. “Guys, we can’t! We have two shows in a row here!”

“We’ll reschedule.” Julie bends down so she’s at eye level with him. “You can’t perform like this, Luke.”

Luke isn’t just upset, he’s heartbroken.

“No way,” he shakes his head resolutely. “Doctor, can’t you just give me a Vitamin B shot or an IV or something? We have to… to…”

He starts coughing again, so hard that he gets teary. Julie feels the back of her own eyes begin to prickle as her stomach constricts painfully. She’s not good with sickness and she knows it, but seeing Luke in this condition is something she wasn’t prepared for.

“You have to rest.” Doctor Jameson’s tone is final. “If, and I repeat, if you feel better tomorrow afternoon, I may give the green lights for tomorrow night’s show. But only if you rest completely and then keep resting for the two days after that.”

“Sounds good,” Alex chirps from behind his curtains. “I’ll tell Flynn to prepare a post for the fans.”

“No!” Luke tries to protest, looking at Julie with pleading eyes she wouldn’t normally be able to resist. “Jules…”

“We’re staying in a hotel tonight.” She replies. “You need to rest.”

“Book one with a pool!” Reggie pleads, stretching his arms out. Luke has betrayal painted all over his face.

“I really don’t get how you can be so chill about this.”

Luke stutters five hours later, buried under two soft five-star hotel duvets and still fighting against shudders that run up and down his body.

Julie sits cross-legged by his side, Luke’s prescriptions in one hand and the sheet with the doctor’s instructions in the other. She pops three different pills in her hand and hands them to Luke, who makes a show of looking offended as he swallows them down without the help of water. Then he makes a pained face because his throat still hurts.

Julie loves him, she does, but when he acts so childish she would happily smack him in the head with Alex’s drumsticks.

“None of us is casual about this.” She replies. “We don’t like canceling a show either. But your wellbeing is more important than any show ever, Luke.”

All she can see of her boyfriend is his eyes peeking from the duvet, and his hair sticking to his forehead. He still manages to look defiant.

“Some might say that my wellbeing is directly proportional to the time I spend on stage.”

“Some might say that you’re an idiot,” Julie levels him down with a stare. “Oh, wait. That’s just me.”

Luke would normally laugh at something like this, but all he does now is sigh heavily and avoid her eyes.

“I just really, really hate to think that there are forty thousand people that we’re letting down tonight.” He says in a small voice, “That I’m letting down.”

“Stop it,” Julie climbs under the duvet so she can wrap her arms around his torso and let him rest his head against her chest. “This is just one show. It sucks that we can’t play, but it’s neither your fault nor will it matter in the grand scheme of things.” She pauses to kiss the top of his head and Luke turns his head up to look at her with hopeful, sad eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. We’ll be playing shows until our fingers get too wrinkly and stiff from arthritis or something like that. People will get sick of seeing our concert playbills around towns.”

Luke’s eyes close, a satisfied smile on his lips as he undoubtedly gets lost in the mental picture Julie has painted for him. She tightens her arms around his body, solid and feverish, and he gently intertwines a hand with hers.

“Are you okay?” He whispers, his eyes still closed. Julie knows that he knows and she shudders a little, doing her best to keep certain bad memories out of her brain.

“I’m… dealing with it.” She answers truthfully.

“I don’t want you to be here if it makes you feel bad,” Luke squeezes her hand. “I’m sure one of the boys can… I know you don’t like being around sick people.”

“You’re not people.” Julie is happy with how firm her voice sounds. “I’m not leaving you. And besides, Alex wouldn’t come within five feet from you without a nuclear proof suit, and Reggie would let you sneak out to the tour bus to play. I only trust myself.”

Luke snorts a laugh, and it has the miraculous effect of making Julie feel better too.

“I can still try to corrupt you too,” he wiggles his eyebrows allusively at her, but it’s all ruined by a powerful sneeze that makes the bed rock back and forth for a second.

“I’m definitely charmed,” Julie rolls to her side of the bed to retrieve the tv remote from her bedside table. “Come on, I’ll let you choose the movie we’re watching.”

Luke sniffles again.

“School of Rock.” He declares.

“You know it by heart.”

“You said I could choose.”

“I did,” Julie nestles against Luke under the duvet. “And I know what your real disease is.”

“Stickittotheman-eosis.” Luke quotes happily, hugging Julie like she’s his personal teddybear, yawning as the opening credits start to play. “Gosh, I love you so much.”

“I don’t know if you’re saying this to me or to Jack Black.” Julie giggles.

“Babe.” Luke looks at her. “You’re special, but you’re no Jack Black.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Julie sighs. When she meets Luke’s eyes, they are alight with something she’s not sure she can put into words. It makes her feel huge and small at the same time.

“I love you too.” ___________________________________________________ Thanks for reading! Feel free to drop a prompt in my askbox for more stuff like this if you’d like. JATP minifics (x)

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #juke #jukebox #jatp minific #my fics #juke fics #jatp fanfic

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aster-aspera · 3 years

Text

Another drabble I wrote for my superhero AU, though this one turned out a lot longer than I expected.

masterlist for my superhero AU

Relationships: platonic/romantic DLAMP

CW: chronic pain, flare ups, some internalized ableism, mentions of Janus’s mom’s less than stellar parenting.

A/N: While this chapter vaguely draws on my experiences with my back and knees, I don’t have arthritis. I tried to do as much research as possible and hope I have managed to portray it correctly. If my depiction is in any way offensive or incorrect, please don’t hesitate to inform me and I will correct my mistakes or even delete this writing. Hope you enjoy <3

Janus woke up with that familiar hurt curled around his bones. He sighed wearily as he looked out the large stained glass windows. Rain was beating against the panes with a violent intensity.

Some days he wondered why he stayed here, wouldn’t it be better to just move to a nice sunny country where the sky didn’t seem to want to drown them? Who was he kidding, this city would never let him go, rain and his aching bones be damned.

He rolled over in bed a few times, hoping stubbornly the pain would allow him to sleep a little longer. It was way too early to even think about getting up, in his opinion. After a few more minutes of his body complaining and aching, he wearily dragged himself out of bed.

He fumbled around for his cane and slowly made his way to the kitchen. He popped a heat pad into the microwave and switched on the kettle. Fortunately, it was still filled with water, meaning he didn’t have to struggle with taps right now. Picking up the heating pad had been hard enough with his hands feeling like they had been run over by a steamroller.

Why did it have to be today of all days? It wasn’t like he’d had that many plans but he had been meaning to at least get some work done.

There was no way he’d be able to do much of anything today, merely the thought of typing made him cringe, let alone the thought of actually going outside.

When his heat pad was warm, he curled up on the couch in the most comfortable position he could find and resigned himself to a day spent watching mindless television.

Somewhere around ten, a call came in and Janus fumbled to answer it with his stiff and aching fingers.

“Damore,” He introduced curtly. If it was another bullshit telemarketer he was going to strangle someone. Once his body was halfway functioning again, of course.

“Hello Janus,” Logan’s voice filtered through the phone speakers, in the background he heard Roman yell something. “Yes, I’ll ask, now could you please be quiet,” Logan said, presumably to Roman.

Janus felt his lips quirk up into a smile despite himself.

“We were wondering if you would like to accompany us to Carntos forest, we were planning a hike.” The smile slipped off Janus's face. Of all days to have a flare up.

“As much as I would love to, I’m afraid I can’t come. Maybe some other day.” He tried not to sound too bitter.

“Oh,” Logan sounded disappointed “why not?”

Janus hesitated. Usually, he would just grasp at the nearest convenient lie, he could easily tell them he was busy with work. But, he’d been learning not to do that, to let them in, not to bury himself in lies and mystery.

“I’m not feeling too well today,” He eventually said, he didn’t feel like explaining his condition right now. His mother’s words still echoed in his head.

They wouldn’t think him weak, would they? They were good people. But after a lifetime of being told that he was faking it and to suck it up, he wasn’t exactly keen to share it with other people. He was supposed to be strong, a terrifying villain, not someone who could barely get out of bed some days.

He was shook out of his self deprecating thoughts by Logan. “Are you alright? Do we need to come over?” He asked, his voice filled with concern.

Janus felt emotion well up in his throat, not a lot of people held so much concern for him. He shook his head. Really? He was getting all teary eyed over some polite sympathy?

“No, I’m fine. I hope you enjoy your hike.” He pressed the end call button before Logan could say something else that would make him bawl like a baby.

He was just dozing off uncomfortably, when a knock on his door startled him.

Who was even…?

He got up painfully and limped to the door, leaning heavily on his cane. He grabbed the gun from its hiding place before opening the door. It never hurt to be cautious. When he opened it, he was greeted by four smiling faces.

“Hi,” Patton greeted cheerfully, “We brought soup.” He held up a large container.

In that eloquent way of his, Janus just stuttered out “What?”

Roman gently grabbed his shoulders and steered him back inside, putting the gun down on the table. The others followed, Virgil laden with a variety of food and Logan carrying some dvd’s. Patton made his way into the kitchen and started clattering around in the cabinets.

“We’re here to take care of you,” Roman explained as he sat Janus down on the couch. Then he abruptly drew back “It’s not contagious is it?”

“No, it’s not,” Janus said, distracted by Patton and Virgil doing god knows what in the kitchen and Logan heading towards his bedroom. They had all invaded his space with a swift efficiency.

“Great, so what’s wrong?” Roman asked, sitting down on the couch opposite him.

“It’s…” Janus’s mind was not cooperating right now. He tried to think of something.

“Dude, I’m literally a nurse, you can tell me.”

“I’d rather not.” Janus said, sounding a lot more defensive than he had meant. He was just slightly stressed out by these people barging into his house and Roman pestering him. He really wanted a nap and for today to be over.

Roman looked him over critically. “Fine, you don’t have to tell me, but we’re not leaving till you feel better.”

“Prepare to stay a while then,” Janus couldn’t help himself from laughing bitterly.

Roman’s eyebrows scrunched up adorably and then he smiled. “Well, that’s good, ‘cause Patton brought lots of food, so we can hang around for as long as needed.”

Janus curled his shoulders protectively. “You don’t have to.”

“But we want to.” Logan had appeared from the bedroom with an armful of blankets and was looking at Janus with such gentle and loving eyes and Janus had absolutely no idea how to deal with any of this. Why were they here? Why would they ditch their plans just to take care of him? Why did they even care?

Virgil and Patton came in too, carrying a tray laden with fresh buns, fruit, a bowl of soup and some tea. Janus’s stomach grumbled noisily. He’d only really eaten some crackers, as he didn’t have the energy to prepare anything more fancy than that.

“I don't know what you want to eat right now, so I’d thought I’d go with the classics for someone who’s sick but I have other stuff too, if you want.” Patton fretted.

“No, this is fine.” Janus replied.

He made to eat the soup then stopped abruptly. There was no way he could manage that, his hands were aching all the way from the tips of his fingers to his elbows and they were so stiff he could barely curl them around the spoon, let alone coordinate them enough to eat.

He suddenly felt very vulnerable, with all of them staring at him. He cleared his throat.

“I’m actually not really in the mood for soup.” He apologized and reached for the bread. That, at least he could eat without too much trouble.

“That’s fine, we just need to make sure you eat something. You’ll never get better if you starve yourself,” Patton replied cheerfully.

Janus cringed internally. They didn’t know, he couldn’t blame them for it, but god, did those words hurt. Always that same question: are you better yet?

“So, which movie do you want to watch?” Roman burst out, eager to get started on that.

“Maybe you should first ask him if he even wants to watch a movie, you idiot.” Virgil hissed.

“All right, no need to rain on the black parade, sunshine,” Roman defended.

Logan rolled his eyes.

“I’d love to watch a movie,” Janus said before the two could start a full blown argument.

The others settled into the couch and Janus barely suppressed a whimper when Logan jostled his legs. Wow, he was really pathetic today.

Despite his best efforts, Logan noticed his discomfort and looked at him, his eyebrows knitted in concern.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No,” Janus immediately deflected, then when Logan’s eyebrows did not change their stance “It’s just… my knees hurt, so please be careful.”

“Oh, did you hurt them during patrol?” Patton asked.

“Patrol?”

“You fell off a roof?”

Oh, yeah, that had happened. His cheeks heated up in shame as Virgil tried to stifle a laugh. Jumping over rooftops was not his forte. The fall itself had probably looked a lot worse than it actually was, he had only vaguely scraped his elbows.

“Yeah, I remember. No it’s not that.”

“Really? It looked like a pretty bad fall, it would make sense that your knees hurt after something like that.”

Patton didn’t seem like he would let it go anytime soon. He was clearly worried about Janus. He sighed, it was going to come to light some day, better to bite the bullet now than to wait for when he would be forced to reveal it. He took a deep breath, oddly nervous. He shouldn’t be this worried, they cared for him, they were his friends, they had come all the way here to take care of him.

“I’m actually just having a bad flare up today.”

A beat of silence followed his statement and Janus tried not to panic. But Roman just nodded understandingly.

“You mind if I ask what…?”

“Rheumatoid arthritis, symptoms started when I was about seventeen.”

“You could have just told us, honey,” Patton exclaimed.

“I don’t always feel comfortable sharing it”

“Well, I’m happy you felt comfortable sharing it with us,” Virgil said.

“Yes, I’m happy you trust us with this knowledge, Janus.”

What was this annoying fuzzy feeling in his stomach? It was probably the tea, or maybe the buns, who knew what Patton put in those.

“Do you need anything?” Roman asked.

“Well, some more heat pads would be nice.”

“I'll get it.” Virgil got up.

“Does it jostle you too much when we sit on the couch?” Logan asked.

Janus hesitated, he was already bothering them so much, it really wasn’t polite to kick them off the couch too.

“Jan, sweety, please be honest with us, we don’t want to hurt you,” Patton pleaded.

“Yeah, it does.”

All of them happily moved to the floor, laying down some pillows and blankets so it was still comfortable. Virgil returned and passed him the heat pads.

“So, how long do these flare ups usually last?” Roman asked.

“Usually most of the day, sometimes longer.”

“Well, as Roman promised, we’re staying here as long as it lasts.”

“Yay! Slumber party,” Patton exclaimed.

“As long as you don’t throw any pillows at me,” Logan sighed, before promptly getting hit in the face by a pillow from Virgil. He looked at him with a look of utter betrayal.

Eventually, everyone got settled and they turned the movie back on. Janus tried his best to focus on the plot but soon found himself drifting off.

#janus sanders #ts janus #patton sanders #ts patton #logan sanders #ts logan #roman sanders #ts roman #virgil sanders #ts virgil #dlamp #romantic dlamp #tw pain #sander sides #sanders sides fic #superhero au #ts superhero au #my writing

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madneywhre · 4 years

Text

The Misfits

Hi! So I am currently writing a highschool AU called The Misfits. It is about the BAU as teenagers. Going through four of the roughest years of their lives. Highschool sucks for everyone, especially when you go through it alone. Rolling with the punches of life and high school, these students find solace in each other. Anyways! It continues after the break

CW! Mentions of mental abuse, emotional neglect, physical abuse, suicide, and homophobic slurs.

---

Spencer woke up early… way too early, but he was excited. This was his first day of highschool. Sure, he was at least five years younger than everyone in his grade, but he was ready. His mother on the other hand was not. She hadn’t moved out of her room in three days. He walked into the room and went over to her bed.

“Good Morning Mama, I start high school today.” He says seeing that she was awake and reading. She looked at him and back at her book without saying a word, he realized that she was too far gone to respond right now. He walked out of the room sadly, going to the kitchen to look for food of some sort. He had become used to doing things by himself, adapting to the new changes. His dad had left six months earlier, which only worsened his mother's downward spiral. Spencer wanted his mom to get him ready for his first day: to cook him breakfast, pack his lunch, maybe even do the cheesy pictures that other moms did. But not Diana. No. Never Diana. Electronics were evil, from the government. His dad had bought him a phone and paid the bill; the only thing he did. Not that he ever answered Spencer's attempts to reach out but it was nice to have though, just in case.

After standing on plenty of stools, Spencer decided on poptarts. He popped the strawberry pastries in the toaster and shifted his weight from foot to foot, thinking as he waited for the poptarts to become warm and toasty. His mind wandered to a time two years ago, his first day of middle school. His mom was still lucid then, she had made him breakfast and read to him. He was only seven then,he was nine now; always was smart for his age. It wasn’t easy to be the youngest in the grade. He got jostled around a lot and took a lot of elbows to the nose, but he was used to it. He was also used to the looks he got when he did the advanced work in class,the looks of doubt. He hated them. His attention popped back to the pastries when they sprung up in the toaster. He jumped before realizing what had just happened. He pulled them out and hissed at the heat, dropping them onto a paper towel. He sat and ate, allowing his mind to wander again. Remembering his mom before she went down hill. Before he was forced into being his own parent, he was already expected to be an adult.He just wanted to be cared for, like most kids did,he was only nine after all. Sure, he was in highschool, but he was still little. He still wanted the crutch of his mom and dad. He wanted to be held. When he went into his mom’s room earlier, he had hoped for her to scoop him up and give him a kiss on the forehead, and read some poetry to him. Or even just talk to him. Just be a human, and she would, in time…

After he finished eating, he had to rush to get dressed. Trying his best not to think about the fact that he had to walk the five and a half miles to school. He was too young to sign himself up for the school bus, obviously too young to drive, and on top of that he didn’t have anyone to carpool with. He rushed into his room and pulled on a pair of corduroy slacks, his old striped comfort sweater, and his tennis shoes. The only reason he wore a sweater was because it helped calm him down when he was having sensory issues, though he was always cold. Probably from the lack of vitamins in his diet. He rushed to pack his lunch, not able to find his old lunch bag, so he used a grocery sack. He remembered when his dad would pack his lunch and he lost some composure. Small tears stinging at the corners of his eye, a lump rising in his throat, the building pressure behind his nose. He pushed it all down, while making a sloppy PB and J and throwing a sleeve of Saltines into the sack. He called it a day and got his bag, shoving his lunch in the torn backpack. He walked out of the door and started the trek to school, getting to watch the sunrise. The purples made a small smile peak at his cheeks, the pinks mixing with the oranges made his chest feel warm. His hands flapped happily and he walked with a small bounce in his step. Sweat already starting to bead at his forehead.

It took him an hour and a half, but he got to the school in enough time to get his schedule. He knew that he was assigned a guide for the first day, just to help him around the school because he was so young. Spencer walked into the main office, and didn’t even clear the top of the counter, his messy curls peeking up from behind it.

“Um, excuse me. I need to get my schedule.” He said in a squeaky voice.

“Okay honey, just come right around here.” The nice secretary lady said. Her name plate read Alex Blake.

The small boy walked around to her side of the counter and smiled at her. “I’m Spencer Reid. R-E-I-D.” He said confidently, trying to show that he belonged here.

“Oh the youngin. Okay honey, your freshman guide is Aaron Hotchner. He is a Junior. You guys surprisingly have a similar schedule, so stick with him. Let me know if you need anything.” She said, pointing him over to a tall ravenette man.

He walked over, and in a small voice approached him. “Hi, I’m Spencer, your freshman. I need my schedule, please.” He said with a squeak, his voice rising in pitch because he was nervous.

“Hey Spencer, um… Here is your schedule, we actually have a first period and lunch together. So just stick with me for a bit and we can head off to our first class. Which just so happens to be Algebra II.” He said without looking at the kid. He handed him his schedule and held back a gasp. “How old are you?” He asked in a hushed voice.

Spencer wasn’t surprised this was one of the first questions. He had become used to this. “I’m nine… I know I’m little, but I am advanced. I have a high IQ and tested when I was seven, being placed into seventh grade. Now I’m nine in the ninth.” He liked how that had worked. So far, this hadn’t sucked.

…

Jennifer had woken up hours earlier, going on a run before school. She did her best to stay in shape during her off season, still allowing herself to indulge in normal teenage things from time to time. WIthin the three hours she had been awake, the young woman had already worked out and showered, standing in front of her mirror, looking at the shell of the person she once was. Tired, dark bags fell under her eyes, her face puffy from the long nights spent crying herself to sleep. Her sister had died seven months ago. Her sister's room had been left untouched, besides the clothes that she had taken from her closet. She would sleep in her sister's hoodie, only to put it back the next day so it wouldn’t lose her smell. Her death hit her harder than she let on. She had slowly started to become numb inside, forcing a smile only around her parents and friends. Everytime she passed her sister's bedroom a small piece of her heart would break again.

Today was supposed to be the day her older sister started Senior year. They were going to be in school together for one year. Their year. Jennifer shook her head at the thought. Refusing to let tears fall from her eyes once more. She felt so broken and weak, though everyone told her it was normal. It would probably be easier if everywhere she turned Rosalyn wasn’t staring back at her. Her door being open, a crack, her shampoo bottle, the untouched toothbrush. Everywhere Jennifer looked she saw her dead sister. She refused to shower in the bathtub after finding her sister in it. She tried… once. It ended with her shaking and crying in the tub, her mom having to turn off the water and pick her up. Since then she barely walked into that bathroom. She blinked, being brought back to reality. She puts on a burnt red dress with paisley print on it, paired with simple white shoes. She brushed through her hair, and tied it up, a ribbon lacing around the ponytail. She had opted for a softer sense of style. Mainly to portray the happiness she longed to feel.

She soon walked downstairs, greeted by her mother. Her father was already at work, having seemed burying himself in it since the death. Her mom was the American Dream of a mother: supportive, stay at home mom that cooks breakfast and dinner. She loved her mom, though she wished she saw her break down just once. Not just act like everything was okay.

“Good morning sunshine, how did you sleep?” Sandy asked cheerfully.

Jennifer looked at her and put on the fake smile that had an all too comfortable home on her face. “Good morning, Mom. I slept well. What’s for breakfast?” She asked in a happy voice.

“French toast, eggs, sausage, fruit, and orange juice.” She answered, setting a plate of food in front of her. Sandy was sweet, really. And Jennifer appreciated her so much for the things she did.

Jennifer's eyes lit up when the food was sat in front of her. She took a sip of her orange juice and smiled at her mom. “Thank you Mama. It looks really good.”

Sandy smiled softly, living to see the smile of her daughter. It broke her when Rosalyn killed herself. She never let Jennifer see how it hurt her. She had to be strong for her daughter, keep her afloat too. She would cry when Jennifer wasn’t around. Sitting on the rug of her eldest’s floor, her smell enveloping her as she sobbed into it. Blaming herself for not seeing the warning signs of her daughter's depression. The withdrawal, the sudden “I love you’s’, soon to be followed by long hugs.

Both ladies had happy, light conversations until it was time to leave for school. The time Jennifer was dreading. Sandy drove her happily, happy to see her daughter entering such a crucial time in her life. Reminding her not to forget that she had volleyball practice after school. After multiple rounds of I love yous and goodbyes, Jennifer walked into the school. She walked to the Secretary and was assigned her Freshman Guide. Emily Prentiss. Jennifer shrugged it off until she saw the other female. The blonde had known that she liked girls, coming to terms with it over the summer, though you couldn’t tell by looking at her. Emily was gorgeous. She had a totally opposite look of the younger woman. Tall, pale, dark haired beauty. Jennifer felt heat rush to her cheeks. ‘Keep it together Jareau!’ She thought to herself.

“So you’re the freshie I have. Good to know. I’m Emily.” She said with a nod.

“I’m Jennifer,” she said with a squeak in her voice that she swallowed.

“I’m gonna call you JJ. Fits you better. Here’s your schedule. Try to keep up.” She says handing her it and walking off.

JJ. She liked it. She made a mental note of it. From this day forward she was JJ.

…

Penelope has already been up for hours. Grooming herself to look perfect for the first day. She wanted to make sure everyone knew who Penelope Garcia was,though she wished her last name fit her better. During roll call she always had to explain that she was, in fact, Penelope Garcia. She had buried her feelings with her parents. Six feet under. After her parents died, she moved to Virginia and moved in with her mom’s best friend, of whom she thought of, and called her aunt. This was the first year she wanted to be back in school,the previous year she opted to do homeschooling. She didn’t want to be around anyone, but she decided that this year would be different. She would push herself to be happy. She was going to force herself into her old happy persona. Maybe it would start to feel real to her again. Though the issue wasn’t that she was sad, it was that she wouldn’t allow herself to be. She felt the need to be happy all the time. Show everyone how strong she is. That was except for one person, Derek Morgan. He was the next door neighbor's son. Her aunt had set her up to hang out with him because they had one thing in common: a dead parent. They had hit it off. He would come over and just talk to her some days when she was having a bad day, sitting out in a tree that she thought was secluded, until Derek came up. She was crying and he let her cry on his shoulder. He told her that it would all feel better soon. That it would take time. And from that moment forward, they were best friends. Soon morphing into more. This summer they had made it official.

Penelope smelled the familiar smell of chocolate chip pancakes through the air and followed it downstairs. Greeting her aunt with a bubbly smile. “Good morning Alyssa! It smells amazing!” She complemented. They both sat and ate, light conversation flowing between them. She received the text that Derek was ready, finally home and showered from his football practice.

“Goodbye Alyssa. Derek is gonna drive me to school today. Love you!” She called out from the doorway. Her black skirt ruffling up in the breeze.

“Have a good day Pen!” She called back, the screen door slamming in response.

Penelope walked over to Derek’s house, knocking on the door. He greets her with a toothy smile. “Good morning baby girl” He says, wrapping one arm around her shoulder as he walked out to his car with her. They had been dating for about four months, though they had been pining for at least eight months.

“Good morning handsome. Are you ready for sophomore year?” She asked, smiling at the male. He always held her hand while they drove. He could drive early because he had a birthday that fell early in the year.

“Of course I am, are you? I know how hard this is. Especially since you’re new.”

“I’m ready. I’m just gonna take this year by the horns, no one knows me, no one knows what happened. No one knows my past. All they know is I’m the new girl. That's all they need to know.” She says matter of factly.

Derek looked over at her and smiled. “Okay, but remember. I understand, and I am always here. No matter what, no matter how bad you think it is. I’m in your corner.”

Penelope blushed softly, “Thank you… I know.”

After ten minutes they pull up to the school. Penelope took a deep breath and swallowed. Smoothing out her pink top. She looked cute, really. Pink top, black skirt, white shoes. Though, her and Derek looked out of place together.

She looks over at him and smiles, pecking him on the cheek. “Lets go kick ass.”

Derek let out a nice hearty laugh and rolled his eyes, “Lets go kick ass.”

They walked into the school, hand in hand, smiles on both of their faces, like nothing could ruin their happy high,

…

Five a.m always came too early in Derek’s opinion. Groaning as he rolled out of bed, he threw on his practice uniform and grabbed his equipment bag, heading to the field. When he arrived, he ran his five laps around the field and then drank water, heading out to practice. Three long hours later he was dripping sweat, putting away his cleats.

One of his teammates comes over to him, “Yo Morgan, you coming out to breakfast with the team? We’re going to IHop before school. It’s a tradition.”

“Nah man, I’m good. Thank you though.” Derek said, not wanting to give an explanation to why.

“Come one man! It’s tradition! It's your first year on varsity, just give me a good reason why, and I will leave you alone. Just one good, legitimate reason why.”

“I’m… I’m picking up my girl okay? It’s her first day here, and I promised her I would pick her up and drive her. Chill?”

“Show me a picture of ‘your girl’ and I’ll leave it be. Lady Man Morgan.” He teased, pushing his shoulder.

Derek pulled out his phone and showed him his lockscreen, him and Penelope together, Her head resting on his chest. There was a significant height difference between the pair. “That's my girl. Her name is Penelope, but I call her Pen.” He boasts, until he hears a scoff and a chuckle. Who did this kid think he was?

“Oh, THAT’S your girl. Dude just skip her. She ain’t cute anyways.”

Derek felt a small bubble of anger rise in his chest, “Watch what you say, that’s my girl. You right, she ain’t cute, she is beautiful. I can’t see what would make you think otherwise McClellan.” He replied through gritted teeth.

“Come on… It’s obvious isn’t it? The ELEPHANT in the room… Well picture I guess.” He added snarkily. Of course he was talking about her weight, most people did. It always pissed Derek off in public, when people would see them at dinner and stare at her. Making comments about her or what she was eating.

Derek glared at him, “Oh… so you’re that type of asshole. Okay, well be sure to never invite me anywhere with you again. I would much rather hang out with my girlfriend. She is gorgeous, funny, kind, smart, and stronger than you would ever be.” He spat, turning away and texting her. ‘Good morning, gorgeous. I hope you slept well, I just got out of practice. Will be ready to go at 9:00’

She responded almost immediately, like normal. ‘Good morning babe :), I slept amazing, I’ll meet you at your front door.’

Derek smiled and put his phone away, driving home. Greeted by his two older sisters in the kitchen, Desiree and Sarah. They basically raised him. His mom was always busy working as a nurse at the hospital, and his dad died in Chicago when he was ten. It was still hard, even after six years. Big dates always reminds him of the lack of a father. The first day was no different. His fifth grade year was his last first day with his dad. His dad would always make chocolate chip waffles and give him a pep talk. Tell him to be good, make sure he was always kind, and then kiss his forehead, and ruffle his hair. He missed it every year.

Desiree tried to keep the tradition of chocolate chip waffles alive, trying to keep their dad alive with the memories. “Der! I made waffles for you, for after you shower. Please shower first. You smell like sweaty boy and feet.” She called from the kitchen, not even seeing him yet.

Derek just laughs in response and goes upstairs getting ready for the day. He looks in the mirror and closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. “Dad, I promise this year I am going to do my best in school, I’m going to stay out of trouble, and I’m always going to be kind. I gotta girlfriend this year. You would love her pops. She’s feisty, she’s so smart and kind. Her folks are gone too. Maybe you know them… maybe not. I don’t know how it works, but I gotta go pops. I love you.” He said into the mirror. Sometimes he would talk to the picture of his dad that he hung on his mirror, looking himself in the eyes. He found it helped on the hard days.

He walked downstairs and smiled when he smelled the waffles, “You guys are the best!” He commented through a mouthful of hot waffle. Light banter flows between the siblings, followed by hugs. Derek leaves when Penelope walks over to his house, hearing her humming something before she even knocks at the door. He smiles widely at her, she looked pretty today. He always had thought she was pretty, even when they had first met. “Good morning, baby girl!” He greeted, wrapping his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close so he could secretly get a smell of her perfume. She always smelled sweet, like vanilla, or cake.

The two drove to school, Derek holding her hand the entire time. They hadn’t kissed or anything yet. Just hand holding, they had cuddled while watching movies, but they both didn’t want to hurt the other. Derek knew she wasn’t in the best state, so he was always her best friend first, boyfriend came second.

He looks over at her and smiles when she says, “Let’s kick ass.” “Let’s kick ass.”

…

Emily woke up bright and early, dealing with her mother. Of course, today of all days she had to be home. She woke up to her light being flipped on, “Emily! Get out of bed, it is six in the morning. You have school today!” Her mother said, her voice raised.

“Mother. It’s six. School starts at NINE FIFTEEN.” She said, her pillow now over her eyes, “Leave me alone.” She groans

“Emily Elizabeth Prentiss, you have two minutes to get out of bed before I pour water on you. Now. And look presentable.” She commands, the door slamming shut with her exit.

Emily groaned and got out of her bed, her dark messy curls falling over her eyes. She lets out an annoyed huff and throws her hair into a messy ponytail and walks to the bathroom. She washes her face and then goes into her room, pulling out an outfit. Fishnet tights, ripped jeans, cuffed of course, a black and white striped long sleeved shirt, and a band tee over it. She slipped on her Doc’s and an assortment of chains. Her mom always hated how she looked, how she dressed. It started out as a way to piss her mom off, show her that she isn’t some political figure. She never would be. She sat down at her vanity to do her makeup, she favored dark colors, purples and blacks mainly. She smiled as she winged her eyeliner, it came out perfectly. The raven headed girl decided to go downstairs, drink some coffee. Maybe it would make her feel better.

When she got downstairs her mother audibly gasped, “Emily! You look like the grim reaper's wife!”

Emily looked at her and rolled her eyes, walking over to the cabinet and getting the items to make her coffee, pouring the cream into the bottom of a tumbler filled with ice, pouring the hot coffee over it. “As long as SHE is pretty, I’ll take it,” She mouthed, knowing her mother hated her sexuality. She often told her it was a phase, just a rebellion.

Elizabeth dropped the spoon she was using to eat her oats, “Emily, you and I both know that you’re just rebelling. Don’t talk that homosexual talk in this household. It’s dirty and imperfect. We’re Prentiss’ we don’t do those things.”

The teen looked at her and scoffed, her heart dropping. She took it, always did, always would. Though she would never show her mother the pain she caused; she would never let her win. The second that Emily showed any trace of hurt, she would win. Emily translated that to her normal social life. Always making herself look like a hardass, scaring everyone around her. She couldn’t let herself be vulnerable, or else her mother would use it, and treat it like a weakness. Emily was always a pawn in her mother's political games. She knew it.

Emily had let the stress get to her, taking the coffee upstairs, she dug in her bedside drawer to grab her old friend. She would smoke weed whenever she needed to relax, whenever her life seemed like too much. She was high most of the time. She normally used a dab pen, though sometimes she would use a (joint/blunt). She never used bongs, she held herself higher than that. She put the pen to her mouth and inhaled. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Hold…. Inhale. Exhale. She repeated this process a couple of times, feeling the buzz of more vapor in her lungs than air, knowing that's her sign to stop. She could longboard to school now. Forget about the rest of her problems momentarily. Though, it was less than ideal to do in her boots.

She goes downstairs, and thankfully her mother is gone. She said her goodbyes to her nanny, Amanda, and walked out the front door with her long board in one hand, her backpack on, and her music blaring in her ears. She would listen to a mix of most everything. Sometimes it was screamo, sometimes it was soft pop. Today it was her love playlist. She liked to imagine herself riding alongside a pretty girl, holding her hand as they skated together. She pushed the two miles to school, arriving early anyways. She makes a beeline for the secretary. She had become close to her the previous school year after Blake found her crying in the bathroom because of her mother. The vile names she had spit at her. Ever since then she had become a confidant.

“Blake! You will not believe what happened. Ugh! It was so fucking, sorry, freaking stupid!” She huffed, pulling a chair besides her desk.

“Well, good morning to you too Emily. What happened?” She asked, holding back a laugh

“Well for starters, my mother was home. That in and of itself is horrible. Then she wakes me up at six this morning, demanding I get up and dressed. So I did. But THAT wasn’t good enough for her either, now was it?” She spat angrily, her hands tapping on her leg that was bouncing up and down, anxiety still very obviously present.

“Oh… wow. She said something about your clothes didn’t she?”

“OF COURSE she did. Because GOD FORBID her precious little perfect angel. She said something about me looking like the Grim Reaper’s wife. So I said as long as SHE is pretty, I don’t care. That thoroughly pissed her off. It’s like she just doesn’t care. I’m not her perfect little girl, and she can’t use me, so she decides that I’m just not good enough. All A’s and on honor roll, not to mention the advanced classes. But THAT'S not good enough.” She ranted, the older woman listening, nodding her head and adding small affirmatives.

“I’m sorry that she is like that. I think that your outfit is quite cool, and she has no reason to get mad at you over that. It is your sexuality, and you can’t control who you like. I wish I could help you, but from what I’ve heard, she isn’t around much, and your nanny is pretty accepting.”

Emily nodded, taking a ragged breath, “You’re right… I better shut up, there is a freshman” Emily says, seeing a blonde girl walk in. She looked like that Junior that committed suicide. Shit. That was her sister. She was gorgeous, unique looking. She was soft. Her hair framing her angular face perfectly. She was just beautiful. Emily honestly forgot to breathe for a moment, letting her face turn a rosy color before realizing what she was doing. She shook her head and got up, walking behind the desk, over to distract herself.

It took about ten minutes, but Alex came over to Emily, presenting her with the freshman. Her mind started to race, the pretty girl standing in front of her, leaving her speechless. She soon heard that her name was Jennifer. JJ… It fit. It was soft enough to be spoken with the utmost love, but also to be called carelessly. She made it known too.

“I’m gonna call you JJ, it fits you better. Here’s your schedule, try to keep up.” She spoke back, trying so hard not to turn into a pile of mush in front of her. She turned on her heels and walked fastly in the other direction, making sure no one could see the radiant smile painted on her face.

…

Aaron woke up at 5:30, making sure he had enough time to get breakfast ready for his mother and his little brother. He had always made sure to step up, wanting to make the house a more peaceful place. His dad had begun taking his rough days and frustrations out on Aaron, soon becoming more than just yelling. The young boy made sure to keep his brother and mother safe, taking the brunt of the abuse. His father died when he was fourteen, and he had a wave of relief crash over him. He knew that he didn’t have to take the abuse any longer, he didn’t have to wait until his father went to sleep to do things because he was afraid of getting thrown against the wall. He didn’t have to step in between his mother and his father, letting the punches land on his body. The first time his father ever hit Sean was the day Aaron knew he wasn’t able to be a kid. He grew up extremely fast, acting and talking like an adult from the age of eight. He had never learned how to be a kid. He never knew how to play with other kids. And that would come to affect him. He was always seen as the hardass, from the clothes he would wear, to the way he talked. He was always more mature, not laughing at the jokes his classmates would tell, not really having many friends. He always stuck up for everyone though. He would see freshmen being made fun of by upperclassmen and he would make sure he put a stop to it.

The ravenette would make his family breakfast everyday, today he was making them french toast and eggs. He saw a very sleepy looking Sean bound down the hallway, his hair a sleep ridden mess. “Good morning, breakfast is on the table. I need to go get ready for school. You have forty five minutes to eat and get dressed. I’m walking you to the bus stop this morning.” He said leaving the room, running into his mother in the hallway. “Good morning mama, breakfast is on the table. Have a good day at work.”

The male got into the shower quickly, rushing to get ready. He pulled on a pair of khakis and a green polo shirt, looking like a dad about to go golfing. He chuckled and rolled his eyes at his reflection, smoothing out his hair. He looked at his phone and realized that he needed to get a move on. He took Sean to the bus stop, walking back for his friend, Dave Rossi to pick him up. Dave and him had been friends since elementary school, seeking solace in each other. He was the stability that Dave needed, and Dave was the rebellion he needed. The man pulled up in his classic convertible. Aaron climbed into the front seat, relaxing into the leather.

“Hey Dave, thanks for picking me up.” He piped up with a small smile.

“Aaron! It’s no issue. How is Sean and Amanda?”

“Oh, they’re good. Sean misses you, he keeps asking me when you’re coming over again. Mom misses you too.”

Dave smiled at him and hummed in response, “I’ll have to come over one night for dinner” He said, pulling into the school. It was a short drive, but it was one that was well worth the gas.

Aaron walked into the school building and met with Blake, getting introduced with his freshman. Spencer Reid. When he saw the boy he was confused, he looked like a child. “Hi, I’m Aaron. What’s your name?”

“Spencer, I’m your freshman. I need my schedule.” He squeaked out. Damn he even sounded young.

Aaron was puzzled. How old was this kid? “Hey Spencer, um… Here is your schedule, we actually have a first period and lunch together. So just stick with me for a bit and we can head off to our first class. Which just so happens to be Algebra II. How old are you?” He asked, his voice lower in pitch.

Spencer looked up at him. “I’m nine… I know I’m little, but I am advanced. I have a high IQ and tested when I was seven, being placed into seventh grade. Now I’m nine in the ninth.”

Aaron looked at him, keeping his face in a calm manner. Nine. He was nine in high school. He knew that he needed to protect him. He was an easy target. He led the boy to their first hour, showing him the ropes. Maybe this year wouldn’t be terrible.

…

David woke up to the smell of food cooking. This was new. Normally he was home alone. He used to have his nanny Laura around, but when he started highschool his parents decided he was old enough to stay home without constant supervision. He missed the company though, seeing as how they had grown a nice friendship in the time. He wandered downstairs and saw his parents in the kitchen, a warm smile spreading across his face. They were home… For the first time in at least a month.

“Ma! Pa!” He greeted from the doorway, soon walking into the kitchen. He felt a warm bubble of happiness in his chest, something he felt less and less. The young man was lonely to say the least. He never had his parents around as a kid. He was always being handed around from nanny to butler, his parents deciding to buy his love instead. It started with nice toys, soon turning to electronics, and then a car. He was spoiled, but not on his own accord. He knew that his parents felt guilty for how they were absent in his life.

“Bambino!” His father greets, kissing the side of his head obnoxiously like the Italian father he was. Though the warmth of the moment was short lived when his phone rang, calling both him and Mrs. Rossi into work. Dave sighed, knowing that no arguing or sadness could help his case.

Dave sat in silence, eating the eggs his dad had made for him. He put his dirty dishes in the sink rinsing them off to make his job easier for later. Even though he had people to do these things for him, he insisted on doing it himself. He wasn’t that lazy. He knew that he would be on his own, so he figured he needed to know those basic life skills. He did get to learn some things from his friend Aaron. Aaron and him had been friends since fourth grade, despite the social classes. He thought of Aaron like an older brother, though they were the same age. He needed the responsibility and boundaries the other male had, craving that himself.

Dave walked upstairs, getting ready for the day. A hot shower, followed by jeans, a white tee-shirt and a leather jacket. His hair messily fluffed to the side. He went for a Greaser esc style. He packed his bag, soon going out to his car to pick Aaron up. He felt bad for the man because he didn’t drive yet, he was too busy to deal with minimal things. Or that is what he said. When he got to the males house, he smiled warmly. He was so alone at home, any interaction made him happy. When Aaron told him Sean missed him his heart swelled. Dave was an only child. He always loved children, being around them, playing or talking to them, coloring, really anything they wanted. He thought of the Hotchner family as his family away from home. Amanda being around more than his mother ever was.

Dave pulled into the school at 7:15, leaving time to screw around before his first hour. His grades never suffered from his antics. He felt himself slipping into the persona of David Rossi, the class clown. He acted different at school, making himself overly obnoxious, trying to be funny because he wanted acceptance. Was that really too much to ask?

#spencer reid #emily prentiss #david rossi #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #jennifer jareau #penelope garcia #criminal minds au #high school au #themisfits

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ginageovani · 3 years

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When I let go, I let God. Papa earned his wings to heaven. I lost my huckleberry friend and my first love. I thought it would be an ordinary Saturday where I usually went to groceries, but fate was not it. He gave us such a sweet memory the day before he left us, asked me how my skills lab was going on, and assured us that he was totally fine, but in fact, he was not—what a selfless father you are, Pa. You died peacefully and lovely. You fought the good fight, you finished the race, and you kept the faith. At least that is how I can describe your gone. In the end, Jesus took your fainted heart, He took those ocean tears, and He brought your mountain height, Pa.

I think about you, always. How’s there, Pa? I know you are safe in the most peaceful place right now. Are you fine? Cause somehow, I am still trying to, and I promise I will. They said there are five stages of grieving: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Still, I did not know in which state I was. Eventually, grief was already here. Within my being, it had always been here. No struggle would permit me to forget that. I still yelled in the air, “I miss Papa.”

It was exquisitely painful. I thought a pang of dread. I felt cheated out of a lifetime of memories with the most important man in my life. There are so many things I wish I had known. It hurts bitterly until now. The truth is I will always miss him. Papa, when I felt so restless, you would be the one to comfort me and said, “Adek, even the very hairs of your head are all numbered by Jesus, do not be afraid.” You kept reminding me to pray and praise even when it was hard to find peace. We used to cherish and laugh at moments of life to make us feel alive and grateful. I love how everything gets easier when I am with you. Oh, sweet man, you encouraged me that well. And for that, I am so thankful. I did that, Pa. When I mourned, I tried to remember those happy times we had. Those warm-small eyes you had when you laughed, I miss that. I could even hear your laugh ringing on my head right now.

Pa, I could not choose any beautiful words to portray you. Beautiful, it is your soul. You are a beautiful display of faith, grace, and kindness. Also a rock, a pillar of strength, so faithful. I meant it when I said I wanted to have that tender soul you had. Indeed, you are the person I aspire to be, Pa. Thank you for letting me know that life was not all about take and give, rain and sunshine, win and lose, up and down, but love. Thank you for showing me what love is. Thank you for always giving me a chance and encouraging me to be the kind of person that I am today. Thank you for standing by me every time. Thank you for believing in me more than I believe in myself. For your constant support, endless love, and for being my everlasting friend, I love you. I will always be your little girl, Pa.

Papa, you have taught me everything, yet you forgot to teach me how to live without you. I am going to learn, Pa, I promise, even without you here. We were supposed to have one more breakfast, one more phone call, and one more series to be watched together. We were supposed to have more than this, Pa, but I trust that His timing is never wrong. You are now safe in His arms. It starts here, my new journey that does not include Papa on earth. I let God. I let God. I let God. I wish I could hug you and hold your hand, Pa, but I could not. Then God, could you hug him tightly and kiss his cheeks dearly, and please, could you tell him it was from me? I know You are his forever best friend, and of course, You are.

In this vast universe that often makes me feel small, I am truly sorry if I have ever disappointed you, Pa. I am going to learn to be the daughter you will be proud of. I am so grateful to be your little girl— then I figured out: nothing else matters. Lucky me to receive sincere love from the most loving and giving figure I have ever known. It is you, Papa. Yet all belongs to the man Above. We give back to God that is already God’s. You are gonna live forever in me, Papa. I love you.

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superbadassnatural · 4 years

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Supernatural: The Musical

Summary: After an exhausting case, Y/N decides to give her boys a little treat. Square filled: Fan Fiction - episode (spntfwbingo) // Free Space (deanandsambingo) Pairing: Sam x Reader x Dean Word count: 2,172 Warnings: fluff, polyamourous relationship, feelings, brief mention of threesome A/N: Not gonna lie, I rewatched this episode and I cried. Again. Gosh, this episode gets me so emotional. I’ve changed some things, but the prime idea of the episode is intact. This was written for @spntfwbingo and @deanandsambingo. Hope you like it ;)

(x)

The strays of sunshine struggled to get past the grimes on the blinds, adding an orange glow to the motel room. Your eyes fluttered open. You blinked a few times as your hand fumbled through the nightstand in search of your phone. It was way too early to be awake. Although you knew you weren’t going to be able to go back to sleep.

You and the Winchester’s were exhausted. What was supposed to be a simple, quick salt and burn in Flint, Michigan ended up taking you guys a whole week to get it done. The boys were grumpy and impatient. Especially Dean. He’d complain every single day about the cheap motel you were staying in. Of course, it wasn’t the best thing in the world, but it wasn’t the worst either. You were now too used to the bunker and the homey feeling and everything less comfortable than that would cause some stress.

While in the bunker you three shared a bedroom with a giant super-king-sized bed, in the motel you had two kings. And you had to take turns between their beds. One night you’d sleep with Dean, the other with Sam, and so on.

Deep down both of them enjoyed having you all for themselves. They were now used to the idea of sleeping on the same bed with you in the middle. But Dean loves to sleep with you without his brother hogging the blanket. And Sam loves when he gets to hold you close to him without having his brother’s arm draped over your waist.

It is what it is. You still remember that one night after many drinks and lots of confessions while playing Never Have I Ever, you ended up in a hot, sweaty Winchester sandwich. Then feelings got in the way and you refused to choose between them and risk ruining their bond. So to your surprise, they had decided to share you and try this unconventional relationship. 8 months later and you guys are still strong.

You reached for Sam’s arm — that held you close to his chest, engulfing you in his warmth — and lifted slowly from your waist so you could get up.

“Where you going?” he mumbled, though his eyes remained closed. His voice was hoarse from sleep.

“Shh, I’m just going to get us breakfast,” you shushed him, removing a few strands of hair from his tender face. “You can go back to sleep, baby,” you placed a kiss on his pink lips.

Before you went to the bathroom to get ready to leave the room, you walked towards Dean’s bed. He was sound asleep. His plump lips parted and his hair spiking in different ways. You kissed his temple. His eyes squeezing unwittingly.

You changed your clothes and grabbed the car keys. Before walking out of the room, you left a note on the table to let them know you went out to grab breakfast.

There was a coffee shop a few blocks down the road that promised they had pie worth dying for. You ordered a latte for yourself and black for the boys, along with sandwiches for you and Sam and four slices of pie, since you knew Dean would have at least two.

As you waited, you couldn’t help but glance around the place, taking in every detail. It was very homey. The smell of coffee was delightful and the environment was really cozy.

“Marie is really stressed with her play,” you couldn’t help but hear the woman talk to her friend beside you. “She worked really hard and she’s worried about tonight.”

“I’m sure it’s gonna go great,” the other woman said. “I have never read those Supernatural books, but I’m sure the kids did a great job of turning it into a musical play.”

You almost choked on your own saliva. What the hell? Supernatural is now a musical play?, you thought to yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you approached them. “I didn’t mean to pry, but I heard you say that there’s a musical play of Supernatural and I’m a huge fan.”

“Really?” the dark-haired woman grinned wildly. “My daughter is directing the play.”

“Oh, that’s amazing!” you replied. “I’d love to attend this play. Do you know when they’re performing?”

“It’s tonight actually. It takes place in St. Alphonso’s Academy’s auditorium. It’s a school play,” she exclaimed. “I’m sure that there are a few tickets that hadn’t been sold yet. You can buy it at school.”

“That’s great!” you jabbered. “I’m gonna do this right away.”

“The school is close by. Just a couple blocks down the road.”

“Got it. Thank you,” you replied, leaving them be as you grabbed your order and headed out of the cafe.

You were back at the motel in no time with breakfast and three tickets for “Supernatural: the musical”. You knew they wouldn’t be fond of it, but it was the kind of distraction you three needed.

“You’re not dragging me to this,” Dean growled with a shake of his head.

“C’mon Dean, this can be fun. We need to relax a little,” you whined.

“Fun? There’s nothing fun about our lives, Y/N,” he hissed.

“Baby, please, it’s a musical. It’ll be nice,” you cupped his stubbled cheeks. “Please, for me,” you pouted, batting your eyelashes.

The hunter let out a defeated sigh with a roll of his eyes. You grinned.

Dean is usually more difficult into talking him out of something. In the beginning, you had a hard time convincing him to agree to do what you asked. But time passed and you learned from Sam that if you give him your best puppy dog eyes, he’ll give in. Ever since you learned that you have your way with both of them. Just a simple batting of lashes and a kicked dog face are able to get them to do whatever you want. And right now you want to go to that concert.

“I can’t wait to see this,” you beamed, hopping out of the backseat once Dean parked in front of St. Alphonso’s Academy.

“You’re weirdly excited about this,” Sam frowned.

“You know, I wanna see who is portraying us. And if I’m at the story at least.”

You entered the auditorium and made your way to your seats. As usual, you were sitting between them. Dean got up before it started to grab some popcorn and — since there was no beer — coke for you and water for Sammy. He’d be happily drinking whiskey from his flask.

The lights went out and the auditorium was dark, save for the spotlight on the curtains. A girl dressed as who you assumed to be Sammy appeared on stage.

“Good evening everybody,” she greeted. Her wig was on point. “Welcome to our production of Supernatural.”

“Look, that’s you,” you nudged Sam, whispering.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “This is weird,”

“Not gonna lie. It might be a full-on Gallagher show up in this piece, heh,” she warned. “So those of you in the front rows may want to use the ponchos we provided under your seats. You may in fact get wet on this ride.”

“She’s so nervous. That’s cute,” you said.

“So everybody just sit back, relax, and enjoy the show.”

With that, she walked out. Rock music began to play and the curtains opened slowly. You were so excited you could feel your heart beating faster. In fact, you looked like a child in a candy store.

The whole scenario was beautiful and it was obvious they had put so much effort into it. As a girl dressed as Dean appeared, your Dean almost choked on his popcorn.

“You gotta be kidding me,” he muttered.

“John and Mary, husband and wife,” Dean, the character, began to sing, “Bringing home a brand new life. His name is Sammy. I’m big brother Dean.”

You were completely loving it so far. The boys… well, they weren’t hating it. Both of them had their brows furrowed as they tried to get used to the idea of the musical.

“There’s no singing in Supernatural,” Dean mumbled.

Despite their annoyance, in no time you could see Sam tapping his fingers on his thigh according to the beat of the song. As you look down, Dean was also tapping his feet. So they were enjoying it after all.

As Sam, the character, started singing a song about Dean, you felt the boys tense a little. You reached for their hands. This play was starting to hit them somehow.

The play went on. Eventually, a girl dressed as yourself appeared on stage. It seemed that in the books you were dating Dean. Yet, there was something odd about the way your character was close to Sammy. Subtext. And it was funny how they put on some tension — sexual tension, you dare to say — between Cas and Dean. Again. Subtext. The musical went on. Its primal focus was the story of the two brothers so you didn’t appear on most of the scenes. Either way, you enjoyed seeing yourself from a different point of view.

What seemed to be the final act started. The boys were driving baby. This time you weren’t on the scene. It was the so-called BM scene — no, not bowel-movement, but boy melodrama.

“We need to go back on the road, Dean,” fake Sam glanced at his brother. “Doing what we do best,” a smile appeared on the girl’s face. “Saving people. Hunting things. You know, the family business.”

The scene played out in front of you and the boys smiled. They tightened the hold on your hand as if to be sure you were there with them. You had tears in your eyes and you were trying to hold them back or both of them would pick on you for the rest of your life.

“You’re right, Sammy,” fake Dean smirked. “Out on the road. Just the two of us.”

“The two of us against the world,”

A sob escaped your lips. Two sets of eyes landed on you. Sam and Dean smiled sympathetically. You were definitely the most sensitive out of the three of you. Dean wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you closer to him. You laid your head on his shoulder. Sam grabbed your hand between his giant ones and pressed to his lips. As Dean’s thumb caressed soothingly your waist, Sam’s did on your hand. Both of them reassuring you they were there with you.

“The three of us against the world,” Sam corrected. And here you thought you couldn’t love him more.

A girl over the piano started playing “Carry On My Wayward Son”. The girl who had played Mary started singing, followed by the one who’d starred as John. Then the cast joined them. Their voice was beautiful and it only made you cry even more.

“Who’s that?” Sam asked as a girl with a short, blond wig appeared.

“I think that’s Adam,” you sniffed. “You know, your brother who’s still in the cage trapped with Lucifer,”

You were an entire mess. Lots of tears running down your flushed cheeks. Seeing your lives from another point of view really hit you. And most important the reminder of the Winchester’s unbreakable bond.

Sam stared at the scene in front of him. The youngest Winchester was not sure about what he was feeling. He only knew there was something in his chest that wasn’t there before. He had hope. Deep down he’s starting to believe that, despite all the things he had been through, there might be a way out. Maybe one day everything will end and he’ll be able to live a peaceful life. A normal life. With all its boredom and safety.

The corner of his lips curled up a little. His hazel eyes held a glisten of hope.

Dean was on a internal conflict as the musical wrapped up in front of his eyes. This was a light version of his life. It didn’t have all the blood, all the pain, and all the losses. It didn’t show how broken he is. And even though he’s had many moments of joy, his life was miserable. In his point of view, there might not be a way out of hunting. This play hit him harder than he’d like to admit.

The oldest Winchester’s jaw clenched slightly. His green orbs reflecting how broken and hopeless he felt.

————— “See, it wasn’t that bad,” you pointed as you climbed in the backseat of the impala.

They only hummed in response. Yep, a school play hit them hard. The roar of the impala broke the silence as Dean started it.

“So, Destiel huh?” you smirked, knowing it would piss Dean off.

“I still think it should be Deastiel,” Sam replied. “What about Samstiel?”

“That sounds weird. I think it’s Sastiel,”

“You’re probably right,” Sam nodded, but you could tell there was something his mind was working on. “CasDean?”

“Alright,” Dean barked. “Both of you, shut your faces.”

Feedback is always appreciated! Please, let me know what you think of this one. Feel free to share your thought via reply, reblog or ask.

Want to get tagged? Add yourself to my taglist here!

Dean sweethearts:

@maya-craziness

Sam babes:

@maya-craziness

#spntfwbingo #deanandsambingo #supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #sam winchester fanfiction #dean x reader #sam x reader #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #fluff #crack #sam winchester imagine #dean winchester imagine

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culturaldorksist · 4 years

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to love me

It is Class Eleven. We are in a small, cramped makeshift classroom because our usual room is being fumigated for bed bugs. I am in a complicated relationship with a girl, who I like desperately and cloyingly as I tend to do and who doesn’t, I think, feel the same way about me. She calls me over to help her with understanding something from the textbook and looks at me for a while as I gesticulate to try and explain. “You know,” she says. “There’s something about the way your hands move. It just…feels really gay, sometimes.”

This happened five years ago.

A body, like being, is a little complicated to explain. For Descartes, who I immediately admired for breaking everything down and building it all back up again, there are three substances in the world: there is God who is unknowable but creates and sustains all things, there is mind, the attribute of which is thought and there is body, the attribute of which is extension. For him to prove that the body is distinct from the mind is a long, uphill battle but it is one he fights tooth and nail, even if it doesn’t make sense. The word soul flits in, eventually. There has to be something, something other than a bag of bones that will ultimately rise to the heavens or sink beneath the sea.

I remember playing a lot of imaginary games when I was a child. I remember being a cook, a soldier, a spy, an explorer, a villain. These were malleable times and not a lot was required to entertain myself. I didn’t really need props or costumes. In a pinch, I could curl up on the sofa with my eyes closed and imagine all sorts of things. I have been trying to remember what I thought about my own body. I don’t remember thinking about it very much. This never fails to make me nostalgic.

I also don’t remember when I began to eat so much. I always ate fast, never savouring anything. Food was a comforting thing to work my way through as I did something else. It made me feel distracted and safe. By the time I was twelve, I was fat.

I remember looking at myself in the bathroom once, at the swell of my stomach that distended even at the sides and the loose flabs of my cheeks and chest. Rolls of fat would bounce distinctly from my body as I jumped a few times, like a soul. I don’t remember if I was disgusted just yet but I wasn’t happy.

For the Christians, there is no rationalising about the soul. It obviously exists. Everything about the body is mired in a materiality that is not only temporary but malignant and hostile. Material existence for the Christian is a wasteland we deserve for the sinners we are where every little shred of beauty is grace: a free gift from God. Every flower, every tree.

And beautiful people? They were gifts to be given to each other, I supposed. Do not covet your neighbour’s house.

For the Christian, self hatred is a given. It is a more honest position to be in than those who have been blinded by common grace. If we see ourselves as ugly, our bodies and our surroundings, we can see the absolute necessity of giving ourselves to Christ who will take us to a new world where all things are beautiful.

This calls for a different kind of self love. A love we give ourselves through Christ. The only reason we love ourselves now is to be because Christ loves us, a love that is absolute and unconditional and, according to the Christian, the only love that is true.

When I was eight or nine, everyone around me transitioned from playing the sorts of games I liked, like tag or hide-and-seek, to the sorts of games I found out I wasn’t particularly good at, like football and cricket. I couldn’t coordinate my movements with what I needed to do and what I was seeing, I was slow and not particularly graceful and on top of everything, I wasn’t particularly interested. It didn’t seem fun.

I wasn’t bullied for this, not by that group of friends. But a very pragmatic system came into being. I was made to be goalie whenever possible but when everyone wanted a real game, they’d make me the referee or the umpire. I won a football through a lucky draw and it was the best one in the colony. They had to call me. I had to go. I realised very soon that being a referee was consolation. I leaned against the wall and watched. I remember wanting to cry, sometimes.

Once, for losing an eraser or something, my father told me I wasn’t to go down and play for a week. Everyone came up to the house to find out why I wasn’t there. My father explained to them and I listened from my door. “Oh,” one of them said. “Can we have the ball, then?”

I really hit it off with someone I matched with on Bumble. We couldn’t stop talking. She’d send me little photos from her day: oranges in the sunshine, flowers, trees and other things like that. We met soon and only ordered drinks because neither of us was very hungry and we talked for a good couple of hours. I dropped her off where she needed to go and went back thinking things went fabulously.

She became terse after that, responding almost monosyllabically. I dropped it almost immediately, not wanting to be annoying. It had to be because of my body. She had to have been absolutely disappointed by it.

If there is mind and body, thought and extension, I am absolutely assured about my mind. I have never been nervous about my ability to speak and write coherently, lucidly and on my best days, beautifully. I am confident in being able to be witty and appropriate. I have never been assured about my body. The best I’ve been able to hope for is that I am somehow just impressive enough on all the other counts for my body to be tolerated. For it to be ignored. For a ‘yes, but he’s alright, all things considered’.

It is Class Eight and a free period. Most of the class is empty, for some reason or the other, except for a small group of people. I am reading a book and occasionally participating in whatever conversation they’re having. One of them from across the room suddenly says “David, walk from here to the front of the room and back.”

I ask why.

“Just do it, you’ll see.” I look around. I haven’t been paying attention to the conversation for a while. Everyone is watching me, smiling.

I slowly get up and comply. They laugh and nod. “See, I told you,” she says. “He walks funny.”

They make me run as well, which is even funnier. I cannot for the life of me remember why I submitted to this, why this was something I was willing to do.

“It’s his hands as well, he’s so weird with them.”

The problem with the love of Jesus is that it is generalised. You are encouraged to reach out to Him with your specific problems through prayer and he responds through what you read from a collection of different literature, the latest of which was written two-thousand years ago by a Jewish man addressing a number of churches in what is modern-day Turkey. You can rest assured in Jesus’ unconditional love for you but He cannot delight in your condition.

He cannot admire your arms, the way you walk, the way you speak. But to seek this sort of admiration is shallow. It is, in the words of C.S. Lewis, ‘like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea’.

So you’re stuck.

Once in school, a friend of mine from band was telling me that I should practice more. “See, we’re not like those other guys. We’re ugly. If we don’t have skills we can’t depend on them to want us around for any other reason.” I wanted to tell him I never thought he was ugly. I didn’t. I agreed. I thought maybe he needed me to, that If I excluded myself from the class he so casually put us in, that he placed himself so absolutely into, that it would break him.

In the end, when I went home, I believed I was ugly too.

In college, the girl I was dating once complimented my t-shirt. “You have nice arms,” she said, and then moved on to something else.

That was two years ago. Sometimes, when I want to cry, I hold on to that memory and it makes things better.

Objectivity and subjectivity are important parts of this discussion. I’m sure philosophers have a lot to say about aesthetics but it is too difficult and cyclical to read through all of that. And people in science are just philosophers who’ve prohibited themselves from talking about souls. So, they give me heuristics I can actually use.

There is a golden ratio, apparently, that makes things beautiful. Things like pinecones and paintings and faces.

And the cold logic of it makes sense. A lean body, a pared down one, one not burdened by excess, one that is strong and capable is obviously an attractive one. This must be objectively true.

But there are so many other things I tend to like. The curve of someone’s neck, their arms in the sun, their teeth, their cheeks. These bodies may not fit any sort of objective mold, they may all even be different. But I like them and am attracted to them. Can I believe that this might extend back to me too?

The problem, then, is one of empathy. Do other people think the same way I think? What is going on inside your head?

In college, the girl I was dating once told me: “You know, there’s a lot of things you can fix if you tried?”

“Fix?”

“Yeah, like your weird walk and your posture and things like that. I’m sure if you think about it you can do it properly.”

She has never met the group of people from Class Eight who told me the same thing. She doesn’t even know they exist. So, this thing about my walk, it must be an objectively true thing.

This was two years ago.

Along with how a body looks comes what a body does: presentation. The way you hold your hands akimbo, the way you tilt to the side, the way you use gestures, the way you walk. Masculinity is essentially a bar to jump over: one that requires you to pare down anything that might portray weakness. Because, weakness is feminine and the farther you get from the edge of the binary the lower you’ve cleared the bar.

Gender is woven almost inextricably with sexual orientation. Heterosexuality is only permitted to those who do not deviate from the edge of the binary. To be homosexual is to be like a woman: weak.

I am so tired and I just want to be. My presentation has not been a conscious effort towards anything. I don’t know what it means that ‘a lot of the things I do seem really gay’. Harry Styles helped me massively. To see him with nailpolish, floral shirts and fishnets on while still being allowed to be attracted to and, almost essentially, being attractive to women reassured me. I want to dress like that sometimes. I want to be like that sometimes.

I don’t know if I’m allowed to be while still being straight. I don’t know what that makes me.

Empathy is complicated for people with self and body image problems. The things that plague me, the little lines of speech, the looks, being beaten up, being bullied, might seem almost incomprehensibly trivial to someone else. It’s not easy to explain whyI remember these things from as long as eight years ago and why they still haunt me. It is even often more difficult for people with body image problems of their own.

I have heard other people’s stories about their self-image and done the same thing. ‘That’s not so bad,’ I’ve thought. It is almost impossible to understand.

Every romantic rejection of me becomes about my body or my presentation, in my head. The way I deal with these rejections is by working wherever bodies are needed. Wherever they’ll have me.

I’m not like other guys. I’m ugly. If I don’t have skills, I can’t depend on them to want me around for any other reason.

After my breakup in college, I took up key roles in three different events that all stacked on top of each other. I was supposed to be in four places on the same day at the same hour. I nearly collapsed from exhaustion.

After that Bumble date, I took up work I didn’t need to take up, stayed longer than what I knew was healthy for me and contracted some sort of stomach infection that put me down for nearly a week.

Photographs of myself terrify me. I cannot believe I look like that. That I am that big. When I look at my friends and then at myself, I am disgusted. From an odd angle, every once in a while, I think I look alright. I look passable. I put those up on every online platform and I hope for the best.

I was once on my way from my room to the bathroom. “Please put a shirt on,” a friend who I dearly love said. “Your tits are disgusting.”

In print, as words on a screen, this is shocking. As a lived experience, it is not. It is the sort of thing men say to each other.

Last week, I moved into a room where there is a full length mirror. It is the first full length mirror I have had the liberty to be naked in front of. I like the way my legs curve upwards into my back and how my hips dip into my stomach. In the early sunlight, I am proportionate.

This is trivial. It is, after all, just a man looking into a mirror. This is also earth shattering.

Last week, I made a tweet about wanting to wear nail polish in college. In a world where a global pandemic is baying at the doors and where human rights violations abound in every city, a heterosexual man wanting to put nail polish on and expressing this is trivial. It is also earth shattering.

I once complimented my mother on the dress she was wearing. I told her it looked great on her. I don’t know why, I just did. I saw her face change, I saw her smile and she told me her day was made. I don’t know if she was telling the truth. But I do know she has struggled with diet, weight-loss and cravings for a long time. It was an easy thing to say but it was also not prompted. She did not ask me for a compliment. It was freely given, like grace, like all the beautiful things in the world. And so, it mattered.

Maybe, if we work very hard, there’ll be a world where compliments between men, where validation and acceptance is normal. Maybe we can break everything down and build everything back up again. It’s only bodies, after all.

I am thirteen and lying in bed next to my father. It is the afternoon. He is asking me what is happening in school and I tell him about all the different activities that are happening.

“You should try theatre,” he says.

“Why?” I ask.

“Because you’re tall and handsome and you have a great voice and they need people like that for theatre.” He turns away and falls asleep.

That was eight years ago.

#body image #self image #self #sexuality #fat shaming #personal #philosophy #christianity #personal essay

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starline148 · 4 years

Text

Digimon Related Stuff

I’ve wanted for a long while to write a few opinions I had about Digimon Adventure and Zero Two, specially about the ending. I’d love to read other people opinions as this one is just mine and we all can have different ones. ( I’m not talking about Tamers, but Tamers were even better in some mature and emotional stuff.) I know that it’s a bit useless as I can´’t change anything but I just wanted to write them, and now that Last Evolution Kizuna and the new series are announced I thing it’s a good time. I’m a bit worried about the new series as it seems to be a new story with same characters or something like this and I didn’t like when it happened to other series like Inazuma Eleven, in which it seemed that the characters were for fanservice and the nice development and story they had in the original was lost. Anyways Digimon is part of my heart since day 1 and I’ll see it and I hope I’ll be delight with the new stories. In my opinion Digimon Adventure was wonderfull, being a child show in that time it talks about some important stuffs, and it has a depth that even if it could be more explored it’s fine as it’s aimed for children and me, as a child, found it great like it was. Like Doremi, I’m amazed about how in both series it’s shown different kind of families and relationships, someones being helthy and others not so much. And also the reactions to death, a dead brother, dead friends... dead Leomon once again and to the weight of responsability that makes Taichi lost confidence or Sora almost in the end of Adventure had a big depression. And in Zero Two BlackWarGreymon looking for who he is, that’s really interesting, BlackWarGreymon was one of best characters to me. Going back to families, in Digimon we have divorced parents, adoptive parents, strict parents, absent father, sick sister and more, and it’s said about how it makes their children act. And what’s best in my opinion is that these parents (most of them) get involved in the story and help their children fighting the bad digimons, each one as they can. Yamato’s father, Sora’s mother and Koushirou’s parents are the most involved. While the others give their support as much as they can. But in Digimon they don’t need to “kill the parents” to give freedom of moving to the children, parents help as much as they can, sometimes just being sure they eat enough. And improving their relationships with their children. About Zero Two, while a lot of people didn’t like it and myself find Adventure better, is also a good series. They had other issues, I think it’s more focused in siblings that in parents but also in the “who I am” as I said with BlackWarGreymon. Who I am is a topic that appears all the time and that every main character has to overcome, altough Ken and BlackWarGreymon take more time and importance. Also Daisuke is a sunshine boy, he was ready to die for his friends in the beguinning. And then it come the epilogue, and well, I didn’t like it, as many people. I’m not salty about it, the characters aren’t us, but some of the things that happened were like... “why”. And this could haven been answered along the series to not be so shocked. I’m going to talk about the chosed jobs for each child. When I saw the first time the epilogue I only understand the reason for 4, the others were truly unexpected. Taichi [8/10], as a child I dislike a lot his job but now I can understand why it’s important for him. He is the ambassador of Digital Work. I think Sora would fit this job too, but Taichi is the Leader so it’s okay. I only would like more if they focused it in Taichi and Agumon being the spokespeople of Digimon wih Children and other Digimon being the spokesmon of the Digimon without Children. And do you know how could have been? Leomon. So ending picture of Taichi and Agumon shaking hands with Leomon about agreeing some important stuff. To me it’d have been perfect. Yamato [0/10], this one was the most unexpected in a bad way. I didn’t understand why or how Yamato ended as astronaut. Like... cheff? ok, musician? great, Taichi’s right hand in gobernment? amazing. Astronaut?... hell no. But I supposed they had their reasson altough I can’t understand it yet. I would have like if Yamato would have being side by side with Taichi, being the second man with Gabumon being the second Digimon. Or being the headmasters of an organitation to help Digimon that enter Human World by mistake to go back to Digiworld. Also continuing with the Music Career would have been amazing. A group with Humans and Digimon maybe? Sora [4/10] I didn’t like Sora’s work at all either. In Tri they try to give a reason behind it but... Not enough. Trough the series Sora is portrayed as a strong and indepent woman but most important also Leader and Sportive. I’d have like if she would continue with something sportive. Yes, it can be a Hobby, but even if it’d have been good developed I’d have like more if she continued with her mother’s Ikebana’s tradition. Koushirou [10/10] What else could have he been? Just perfect to him. I’d also have like to see Wallace and Miyako working with him, but Koushirou’s focusing, just perfect. Mimi [2/10] How a girl who adds sugar and cream to a fried egg endep as Cheff? Mimi culinary’s art are shown in the series (even in Tri) as horribles. But as a little kids Teacher... I think this job suits her more than to Hikari. Mimi is caring, with a gold heart as it’s seeing her growing from being selfish to being really sweet. I’d have like that Mimi would become a Teacher and Teaches the importance about living with Digimons. Jyou [10/10] Same that with Koushirou, this rol just fits him so much I couldn’t see him being something different. He started not wanting to become a doctor, but trough the series and seeing how his friends become injured and even dying, he changes he mind. It’s good developed in the series and I liked it a lot. Takeru [7/10] I didn’t like but also didn’t dislike, I’m neutral about this. I didn’t know what I could like for him better as it’s not showed anything. Maybe something that can help agains evils? But writing stories can be a good way to do too. Hikari [7/10] She said she wanted to become a teacher and she did. But with her character I would see her more being a Reporter. She likes the truth, enlight the things and it would have been a good way to do. But I’m fine with her being a Teacher just because in canon it’s said it was her dream. Daisuke [?/10] I just don’t know how to feel. Same that with Hikari, he sais it was his dream but... I found it so strange that Daisuke wanted to have a Noodles’ Restaurant. I think they should have explained why in canon. Just that. Miyako [2/10] I understand being at home as a house keeper is important but she had so much potential with informatics, she could work as a programmer from home or something like that. I also didn’t understand why she married Ken... like she couldn’t understand him at all, I always found Miyako crush on Ken strange and not really healthy, but well... I hope in Kizuna this would be good developed.

Iori [10/10] He was another one I really liked, I loved how he went from being so hard with “good or evil” to understand that maybe villains aren’t so bad and that they can be helped with compassion. It’s the one I like the most, because Jyou or Koushirou were easy choices, but with Iori, I was surprised to good. Ken [10/10] I also like this one a lot, he did bad in the past, he knew he did bad and then he tried to do good because it’s his life and his way to make the world a better place. Being a Police to help others with everything. I liked, I liked a lot it. And these are my opinions, I don’t know if someone would read them but I just wanted to share them! And as I said, I’d love to read other people’s ones, specially abot what everyon would have like them to work as adults? Just tell me!

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whatmakesmehappyy · 5 years

Text

Sunshine p. 2

“No. No. Maybe.” You mumbled as you hung up different articles of clothing on the hooks provides in the dressing rooms. You sighed as you looked at your ‘maybe’ pile and your ‘yes’ pile. While there were a few outfits on the ‘maybe’ pile there weren't any on the ‘yes’ pile.

It was hard to choose the correct clothing because of the lack of colors but the employees at the store were more than willing to help you pick things out. Instead of using their help with colors you just asked them to just give you black and white clothes. They gladly complied and now you were faced with a mountain of clothes and outfits that you had just tried on. You desperately needed more clothes not only for everyday outfits but also for the concert. It was coming nearer and you wanted to feel good.

You smiled when you thought back to last week, meeting Calum and Luke. You hadn't posted the picture anywhere, just kept them to yourself. They were more special that way. With a huff you pulled on your regular clothes and grabbed the outfits that you had tried on. Stepping out of the dressing room, your arms piled high with clothes you started back towards the racks, putting a lot of the outfits back. When you were satisfied with your small pile of clothes you walked towards the counter and put the clothes down, pulling out your wallet.

“Did you find everything okay?” The man at the counter said.

“I did thanks.” You told him, smiling brightly.

“Great! Your total is sixty-eight seventy-two.” The man said and you handed him your card. He swiped it and handed it back along with a receipt for you to sign. You grabbed all your clothes after handing the small piece of paper back to him. You walked out with a smile on your face. You felt accomplished as you made your way out of the mall and back to your car.

Opening the door to your apartment you tossed your bag and purse onto the kitchen counter as you pulled open the fridge to look for something to eat.

“Pizza is on its way.” Your roommate, Laura, called from the couch as you pulled out a bottle of apple juice and pouring yourself a glass.

“You’re the best.” You groaned as you walked over and flopped onto the couch. “Hey Matt.” You waved to Laura’s boyfriend and soulmate.

“Hey. How’re you?” He asked from his position on the couch.

“Same ol’, same ol’,” You shrugged, “got some new outfits, some for the concert coming up.” You explained.

“I wanted to talk to you about that.” Laura said, turning towards you, “I was wondering if you’d like some company?”

“You want to come?” You questioned her.

“Yeah! I’ve heard some of the music that you’ve been playing and I really like it.” She said, smiling widely.

“I mean, yeah! I’d love for you to come!” You said as the doorbell rang. Matt got up and went to answer as you continued the conversation, “Okay so it’s in four days.” You started, “And it’s only about an hour away. We should leave about two hours before the concert in case there’s any traffic.”

“Sounds great. Let me see the outfits you chose.” Laura said excitedly and you made your way over to the counter where Matt was pulling out paper plates and napkins. You brought the bag back over and gave it to her to sift through. “These are so cute! This is my favorite.” She said, pulling out a pair of shorts and a spaghetti strap tank top, “The pants are an off-white and the top is black with sequins, though you can see the sequins. I suppose you can see the black too. But this is what you should wear, definitely.” Laura decided and you smiled. You had known her for most of your life and you were glad that you had such an awesome roommate. “We can choose which outfit I’m going to wear after dinner, ‘kay?” You nodded as Matt placed some plates on the coffee table as well as the pizza box. You dug into the pizza quickly, sighing at the food satiating your empty stomach.

“How does this look?” Laura asked as she walked out from her closet, a short dress adorning her body and heels on her feet, making her legs look amazing.

“You look great. But it might be a bit cold for the concert.” You informed her.

“Good point.” She pushed her hair off her face and walked back to her closet, kicking the heels off along the way.

“Okay!” She called from the closet, “What about jeans? Do you think that that’s to casual?”

“I mean, it’s a concert not a dinner party. I think jeans would be perfect.” There was rustling and she walked out with light-colored jeans and a lacy top. It was all black and white to you but you knew that Laura loved color.

“What color is the outfit?”

“The jeans are just a light denim and the top is purple. Lilac, the color is called.”

“What’s lilac?” You looked at the top, squinting as though it would suddenly make you able to see color.

“Lilac is a shade of purple. A really light shade. It’s very beautiful. I think I have a nail polish that color. Can I paint your nails that color?” She clapped quickly.

“Sure. I’ll have lilac nails for the concert.” You giggled. You wouldn’t be able to see the color but it would make Laura happy. You also made a mental note to ask Jennifer to describe lilac the next time you saw her. Laura shrugged off her outfit in favor of a pair of sweats and sat down at her desk, pulling out her nail polish and searching through them till she found the color she wanted. You looked at all the shades of grey that she had. You smiled as she made a small noise of triumph. She set down her container of polish and beckoned you closer. You sat in front of her and she shook the bottle, it made a clicking noise, “What is that noise? Why does polish do that?”

“I have no idea.” She shook her head and unscrewed the cap. You pulled out your phone and opened a tab in Google.

“According to Amy from Yahoo answers, ‘in good nail polish there are little metal balls that stir the nail polish when you shake it up to prevent it getting gooey and chunky.’ She says ‘If your nail polish does get gooey you can put a couple drops of nail polish remover in it and it will make it smooth again. I hope I helped!’ and the number eight with a closed parentheses. Informative.” You concluded, tossing your phone next to you on the bed as Laura painted your left hand.

“This is gonna look so good!” Laura said, excitement laced in her voice.

“Thanks for coming with me.” You said, trying to portray how much it meant to you.

“Of course. I’m excited. We’ll bring snacks for the car ride and jam out the whole way there.” Your stomach fluttered with excitement for the day.

——————————————————————————

Tag list: @softboycal

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mavda · 6 years

Text

Melted

Ch.1 | Ch.2 | Ch.3 | Ch.4 | Ch.5 | Ch.6 | Ch.7 | Ch.8 | Ch.9 | Ch.10 | Ch.11 | Ch. 12 | Ch.13 | Ch.14 | Ch.15 | Ch.16 | Ch.17 | Ch.18 | Ch.19 | Ch.20 | Ch.21 | Ch.22 | Ch.23 | Ch.24 | Ch.25 | Ch.26 | Ch.27 | Ch.28 | Ch.29 | Ch.30 |

Ch.31: An image to protect

Malo's room was filled with neatly organized boxes. Link hit his pinky with one of them, just as he was entering the room. Malo found Link crouched over with his brows scrunched over, "You all right?"

Link raised a finger, asking for a moment to control himself. Malo rolled his eyes and kept on putting things in a box.

Link straightened himself a while after, Malo gave him a pointed look but kept on tidying his room.

"You know Epona won't be able to carry all of this."

Malo let a book fall hard on a box and glared at Link for thinking him so stupid, "I'm having Talo send these after."

Link looked around, Malo had done a thorough job with his things, "Are you like, not planning on coming back?"

This time Malo didn't even glance back, "I'm leaving stuff, and I'm coming back."

Link wondered whether Talo was really okay with this. Or Malo's mother and father. Or Mayor Bo, even. Malo was still a kid, technically speaking. Truthfully speaking, Malo had everything already figured out, unlike... well, Link.

Malo huffed and sat on his heels, "Why are you here, Link?"

Link started and looked around, as if searching for a reason, "Because we're leaving," Link said, but it sounded almost like a question, the way he had raised his voice on the last part.

"Tomorrow," Malos said, deadpan, he then shook his head, "Are you avoiding Illia?" he swallowed down the 'again?' and just sighed.

Link snorted, "No." Where was Talo when one needed him? Of course he had been avoiding Illia. Also Uli , Rusl and Mayor Bo. It was grating to hear everyone doubting Link's every decision. Malo was glaring at this point, and Link was trying not to beg for refuge.

"You can stay for as long as you want. Mother and father are still trying to spend every waking moment with Talo and won't let him go, and Illia won't come barging in, so relax."

Link gave out an attemp of a smile and sagged his shoulders. But hearing it come from Malo's mouth made him realize how wrong it was to actually avoid people, so if anything, "Are you all right with your parents doting on Talo and not you?"

Malo didn't even bat an eye, "The only reason they are doing so is because a couple of days ago I gave them a stern talking about how I'm not dead and I have a business to run so they better get used to it. Talo just had to suffer the brunt of it, but he's not complaining."

Malo shuffled through his room and Link could understand. Link could understand eveything, but it didn't make it sound less- "Do you really think I find the village boring?"

Malo's mouth attemped to rise on one of its corners, he was in the middle of recovering a book from a shelf, "Is that what's been eating at you?"

Link thought about it, "No, not really. I mean yeah, somewhat. It's just- Does it look like it?"

Malo thought about Link giving him bags upon bags of rupees, about Link stopping in between travels just to check on them on Kakariko - all ragged and exhausted -, about Talo's sunshine smile upon hearing from Link on Castle Town, about Illia's relief about the news, about Uli's sweet smile when hearing about her boy. And now Link was looking troubled, thinking that somehow people thought him to be- What? An adventurer? The very thing he had to become to rescue them all? If people were to even suggest to Link that he had done wrong, then Malo would-

"Of course not. If you thought it boring I doubt you'd come back, right? And yet here you are." Link breathed in as if to prepare to say something, so Malo beat him to it, "And for the record, I don't find the village boring either, it's just," Malo waved around him, "There's a huge ass world out there, and we've been given a slice." Link looked more in peace with himself but also confused so Malo snickered and shrugged, "Calm down, all right? Nobody thinks that about you. And for me, well, when I say those things is because, you know," Malo put on his best poker face, "I have and image to portray."

It had been a surprise for Robert, really. As soon as Link had left, Robert had waved goodbye his early mornings, thrown away the goody-two-shoes act, drowned his nice-yes-I'm-here-to-help-smile. Robert had felt free to spend his time however he wanted, laze around till noon and only spend his waking moments in eating and flirting.

But Link had rubbed off on him. Hard. It was like now he smelled like him, in a very metaphorical way. People, normal peasant-like people, people who knew Robert had been a Keen, people who had even seen him trying to kill the very blond idiot who had helped him after, those people, who had every right to sneer at Robert and give him mean eyes. Those people. They were asking for him. By name.

It was crazy.

And somehow, even after spending the day kneeling in the garden of Misses Lorn, after receiving just lemonade as a reward, after being whisked away by a man who needed Robert's help to fight a nest of rats - nasty little fucks -, after being rewarded with a 'I'll pay you back somehow, I swear' - really, now? Was Robert running a charity now? - after arriving at Telma's, after dragging his ass upstairs to let himself fall to his bed - exhausted - after all that, the only thing that Robert could feel was the way his room had been cleaned and his window had been left open and the way the wind caressed his locks and eased his sore muscles.

Crazy.

Robert heard the steps getting closer to his room but he really lacked the energy to sit up and receive his guest in a more proper fashion.

Telma whistled away, "What a sight. It makes this whole deal a lot easier."

Robert snickered, "You can come join me whenever you want, Telma, dear."

Telma snorted and made a dismissive sound, "It's no fun if you do that." Robert made no attempt to move, but Telma knew he had been working non-stop since Link's departure. "You have visitors, sweetie, they're waiting for you outside."

Robert whined and groaned, "What more do they want from me?" he cried in dramatic fashion, but Telma stood with a gentle smile on her face and jeez, Link was really at fault here. Robert stood and plodded to the door, "I'm gonna at least look pissed off," Telma gave him a you-do-you look and walked in front of him, by the time Robert walked out of Telma's bar he was walking to his full height and had fixed a smile on his face.

The air was cool and even though he would listen to the man, Robert was going to turn him down whatever the task - a man needed his sleep. Robert walked the mini stairs that led to Telma's courtyard. There was a hooded man sitting in a bench, and Robert was beginning to feel the blood rush to his head.

"A hood, really?" The man stood and stilled, "Am I supposed to feign surprise or something?"

"Why did you change inns?"

Had Telma known? "This one's cheaper." She had said nothing. Did it mean nothing to her?

"This one is frequented by him."

Robert had to bit his tongue, "Link, you mean," Robert should bit his tongue harder, control himself, "he was the one to bring me here, go figure."

The man tried to search Robert, tried to find something, "What's wrong with you?"

Robert scoffed hard, was he feeling pain? Kind of, it felt like it hurt, "Can you at least take off the damned hood?"

The man grabbed the hood and pushed down, as if to make sure that it was covering his face properly, "Can't be seen with you."

Robert clapped his hands, amused "Right, because I'm a Castle now," he then remembered Telma, "What if the owner recognizes you, huh?"

"I made sure to cover my face."

"Right, but maybe it's pretty fucking obvious who you are if you are looking for me, you know."

The man shook his head, "Not now. Now everyone looks for you, don't they."

Robert scoffed, the fucker was right, "Well, not at night, you dumbass." Or maybe, he had done it on purpose, maybe he wanted to plant the seed of doubt in them, made Robert look like a traitor. Robert had the man against the wall and the hood moved, showed a pair of blue eyes under furrowed eyebrows. "What do you want?"

The man opened his mouth in disbelief, "What do I want?" he struggled with Robert's hand and then pushed at Robert's chest, "The fuck is with you, huh?"

Robert let Richard go with disgust, "Don't pretend that everything is dandy, you fu-"

"We were waiting for you to come back, you doofus," Richard gave strenght to his voice but said everything in a whisper, "The moment you received the fucking punishment we were waiting for you to come back."

Robert shook his head, Richard was getting red in the face and Robert could tell he was telling the truth, but, "No, you don't get to put it on me, brobro, father just threw me out and you know it."

"Father threw you out to take the peasant away, right? With the ploy we had machined beforehand, right? As a ploy, you remember that?"

Robert felt the tears prickling at his eyes and he was breathing heavy and he could feel the way his chest expanded and contracted, "No, shut up."

Richard gave a step towards Robert, "Robert-"

"No." His father had given the order, "My father disowned me."

"And all you had to do- all you have to do is go back and... ask for him to let you go back."

Robert chuckled, "Ask, Richard? Really, just ask?"

Richard motioned with his hands, in an attempt to find the correct way to talk, "You just have to go to father and-"

"Beg," Robert spat, "grovel and kiss his ass, become the mockery of the kingdom once again because he wishes me to." Robert felt disgust in the pit of his stomach, "No, fuck that, he had already threatened to disown me and then he delivered, nothing new."

Richard looked confused for a second, and then it clicked, "Robert, that was years ago."

Robert gave a step back, felt the need to defend himself, "I was only told about the ploy," he mocked, "if it succeeded to make Link disappear, nobody told me about what happened if I lost."

Richard swallowed, "Yes, well, father wanted for authenticity and-"

"Fuck it. No, I'm done." Robert turned and waved his hand, "Thanks for coming, but I'm out."

Richard felt a lump in his throat, "Robert," he called, but his brother walked away, "Robert," again, but Robert was going down the stairs. Please, "Robbie."

Robert felt pain on his chest, "Yes?"

Richard walked towards him, he was now almost a head and a half taller than Robert, and he felt it was hard to talk. Richard brought his hand to Robert's head, "We are your family, Robert," and I'm, "and I'm your brother," Richard kissed Robert's head, "Just remember that."

Robert sniffled and looked at his brother. All to protect their image. All to protect their father's image. Richard put on his hood and walked away.

#the legend of zelda #twilight princess #zelink #fanfic #hopefully you guys read the tags #it feels weird to put up a notice in the chapter #i'll be without a pc for a while #so i'll post this chapter a day before #and the next on wednesday #have a great day people

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frustratedcastingdirector · 6 years

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Mark Ruffalo Steps Behind the Camera

By Jenelle Riley (Backstage Magazine)| Posted April 20, 2011, 6:25 p.m.

Mark Ruffalo and Christopher Thornton met 20 years ago when both were students at the Stella Adler Academy in Los Angeles. "Mark was the hot young actor at the school," Thornton recalls. "All I can remember is, every girl I had a crush on he'd either already dated or was presently dating. So it was a little competitive in the beginning, but we became fast friends. And you knew immediately he was a fantastic, very instinctive actor." The pair would see each other through many hard times, from financial struggles to career frustrations. But perhaps nothing was more devastating than a 1992 fall while rock climbing that left Thornton paralyzed from the waist down. Ruffalo and two friends—Tim McNeil and Milton Justice—helped convince Thornton that this didn't mean the end of his acting career. Six months after the accident, the trio informed him that they were going to mount a production of "Waiting for Godot" in which Thornton would play Estragon. "I told them they were out of their minds, but they wouldn't take no for an answer," Thornton says. "It turned out to be the best therapy I could have ever done. Suddenly, I'm not focused on my injury for the first time in six months. And the play opens and it's a big hit, and we won awards and sold out and extended the show." Another pivotal artistic moment was born five years later. While having their annual lunch on the anniversary of Thornton's fall, Ruffalo attempted to offer encouraging words to his friend. "I told him that I knew him before and after his accident, and the man he was now was so much more than the man he was before," Ruffalo recalls. "And I said, 'Maybe there is a gift in this. Maybe this has made you a stronger, better person in some ways.' " Thornton's response? "You be the saint in the wheelchair; I'll be the shallow asshole walking around." Ruffalo laughs when he recounts this story—which Thornton verifies—and adds that from this starting point, the seeds were planted for what would become Thornton's script for "Sympathy for Delicious." The film tells the story of Dean O'Dwyer, aka "Delicious D," a paralyzed and homeless DJ who discovers he has the ability to heal others—but not himself. Ruffalo stars as a dedicated priest who tries to help O'Dwyer, but the actor also makes his film directing debut, while Thornton portrays O'Dwyer in a magnetic, unsentimental performance. After a 10-year development period, a dramatic premiere at the Sundance Film Festival that saw the movie go from reviled to revered, and a lengthy battle to find distribution, "Sympathy for Delicious" finally makes its way into theaters this week. It is, in Ruffalo's words, "the greatest roller-coaster ride I've ever been on in my life." A Winning Season It's two weeks before "Sympathy for Delicious" opens and Ruffalo is trying to relax. He has been doing publicity nonstop for his passion project and, despite the exhaustion, claims to be enjoying himself. Being a recognizable actor with a recent Oscar nomination—for playing the sperm-donor dad in "The Kids Are All Right"—has its perks. He breaks into a wide smile when he reveals that earlier that morning, he got to work with a very special co-star: Elmo, from "Sesame Street." Ruffalo has been a journeyman actor for most of his life. He quit the business three or four times before his friend Kenneth Lonergan cast him in his 2000 indie film "You Can Count On Me" as the goodhearted but unreliable brother of Laura Linney's character. Hollywood quickly caught on to Ruffalo's raw talent and leading-man looks, and for the next 10 years the actor constantly seemed on the verge of major stardom. He was cast in several projects that looked prestigious on the page ("In the Cut," "All the King's Men," "Reservation Road"), yet none connected with critics or audiences. Then there were the big-budget rom-coms opposite major female stars ("Rumor Has It," "Just Like Heaven," "View From the Top"), in which he was underutilized. Instead, he tended to shine more in small indies or ensemble pieces, like "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" and "The Brothers Bloom." While he was doing stellar work in little-seen films like "XX/XY" and "The Last Castle," it's the 2004 comedy "13 Going on 30," he says, that he is most often recognized for in public—all of which is fine by Ruffalo, who has always preferred to disappear into his characters. "I still have people say to me, 'Who are you? I'm sorry, am I supposed to know who you are?' " he says with a laugh. "So they'll ask my name and what I've been in, then go, 'Oh, yeah, yeah, you're that guy.' And I like that." Even after he landed his Academy Award nomination for "Kids," a small film he worked on for only six days, his career didn't change much. He admits he's glad the days and nights spent campaigning during Oscar season are over and he can get back to work. "Honestly, the whole awards thing was so abstract to me," he says. "It's so different from what we actually do. And aside from a few people, I don't think anyone places too much importance on it. I think your work speaks for itself more than titles or awards." One advantage of his raised profile, however, is Ruffalo's ability to get certain projects off the ground. More than 10 years ago, Thornton brought him a 198-page script for "Sympathy for Delicious," and Ruffalo says he "instantly knew" he had to direct it. Though he had helmed his share of stage productions, he was unproven as a film director and knew it would be an uphill battle. Then there was the added difficultly of casting an unknown actor in the lead role. Thornton reveals, "There were several times over the last 10 years where people said to Mark, 'Stick Colin Farrell in a wheelchair and we'll give you $7 million right now, because we really like the script.' One time, late in the process, I said, 'The hell with it; just do it. I'll take the writing credit; I just want to go home.' But Mark was insistent. He wouldn't make the film without me in the role." As Ruffalo puts it, "It didn't interest me without Chris in the part." Thornton and Ruffalo worked on approximately 40 versions of the script, and over the years the project changed for them in personal and professional terms. Ruffalo admits that the story took on an even deeper meaning for him when he was diagnosed with a brain tumor in 2002. Though he's resistant to talk about that experience, he says it informed the story in a new way: "When I had my brain tumor, I tried everything. Because who doesn't want a fix? And my face was partially paralyzed. I was still working on this script and thinking about the questions the film raises. After that, I looked at this from a whole new angle." The pair's salvation eventually arrived in the form of Joanne Jacobson, a friend from their theater days, who signed on in 2008 to executive-produce the movie. It was shot on a micro-budget in 23 days in Los Angeles, with Ruffalo working behind and in front of the camera. "For me, acting is a very secret and insular process," he says. "Directing is very different—it's far more inclusive. I had to be in touch with everyone from production heads to extras. It was a challenge, to say the least. But I'd waited 10 years for this and wasn't going to let anything stop me." To round out his cast, Ruffalo called upon various actors he'd met over the years, such as Linney, his "Windtalkers" co-star Noah Emmerich, and fellow "Zodiac" player John Carroll Lynch. "I've sort of been collecting people as I go along," he admits. "It might come from my theater background, where I'm building a repertory company. I would work with these people and start looking for places where I could use them." Though he had never worked with either of them, Orlando Bloom and Juliette Lewis signed on to play members of the rock band O'Dwyer performs with. Ruffalo's wife had suggested Lewis, who initially hesitated at taking on the role. "She told us, 'I've sort of played this; I'm in a rock band in real life. I just don't know,' " Ruffalo recalls. "But after coming in and talking to me and Chris and hearing the story, she said, 'Well, you guys, I have to do it now. I'm being guided to do this movie.' " By contrast, Bloom wasn't someone Ruffalo thought of as the arrogant lead singer of the band. "I had another actor in mind, but he had some schedule changes and I lost him," the director says. "Orlando expressed a real passion for it, and anyone who puts themselves out there like that, I have to meet. And the first thing he said to me was, 'You know, Mark, I really need an experience like this. This part scares me, but I'd like to try. I'll do anything you want me to do, but I need a healing myself.' " Bloom so transformed his appearance for the role, many viewers don't recognize him at all in the film. "He was a revelation," Ruffalo says. "He was there, totally egoless, no attitude, and he worked his ass off. And I love when people come up to me and say, 'I thought Orlando Bloom was in this movie. Where is he?' " Critical 'Sympathy' "Sympathy for Delicious" made its debut at the 2010 Sundance Film Festival, and the immediate critical response was not kind. "Some of those first reviews were harsh and mean, and particularly mean to some of my cast members," Ruffalo says. "And I really took umbrage with it." IFC.com called it "a gangly mess of a movie." "It looked like it was going to be a disaster," he says. But then things began to change. "A rebuttal review came out in USA Today that essentially said, 'I don't understand these mean reviews; they totally seemed to miss the movie.' And then Manohla Dargis of The New York Times came out with a rave review." By the close of the festival, the film had walked away with the Special Jury Prize. "It was harrowing, it was heartbreaking, it was exhilarating, and in the end, totally exalting." As for the harsher critics, Ruffalo says the ones that really got to him were those that criticized Thornton's performance. "Let me put it this way: I'm in the movie, working opposite Chris. And Chris steals every scene I'm in," Ruffalo says with a laugh. "Damn him!" Still, the film didn't instantly land a distributor out of Sundance. Though they had a few offers, Ruffalo and Thornton wanted to hold out for a theatrical release. "Thank God the producers said, 'This movie is too special, and we believe in it, and something good is going to come,' " Ruffalo says, adding that he then wasted months on "a real crackpot" trying to solidify a deal. Eventually, Maya Entertainment came along with plans to distribute the film in theaters. "I've been collaborating with them every step of the way, on marketing, cutting a trailer, designing the poster, everything," he says. "It's been a great experience working with them, but it's been a long haul." As for how audiences will embrace a film about a disillusioned faith healer that dares to ask questions about people's belief systems, Ruffalo believes there's something in the movie for everyone. After screenings, he would find himself approached by Christians who thanked him for not mocking their beliefs, and by atheists who congratulated him for exposing faith healing as a sham. "But ultimately it's not a religious movie; it's a movie that has religious people in it," Ruffalo says. "What it's really about is how you sometimes don't get what you want in life, but you get what you need. And sometimes you're handed a bag of shit in life, but out of that, something can grow. Something good and beautiful.

#mark ruffalo #christopherthornton #sympathyfordelicious #marvel #thehulk #the avengers

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