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queenshelby · 10 months

Text

Chemical Reactions (P. 8)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy as J Robert Oppenheimer x Student Reader

Warning: Lots of Dialogue, Age-Gap, Infidelity

Words: 1,670

Note: The fic is spoiler free and my own fantasy and imagination. It is not historically and scientifically accurate.

Previous Parts: 1; 2; 3; 4; 5; 6; 7

THIS PART IS DIALOGUE HEAVY AND PART EIGHT WILL BE SIMILAR, BOTH PARTS ARE NECESSARY THOUGH TO EXPAND THE STORY.

Two weeks later...

Two weeks had passed and, still, there had been no word from Robert. He had not contacted you and no one at the science faculty knew where he was. Haakon, too, had not heard from him and you certainly did not want to ask his wife Kitty about his whereabouts, no matter how worried you were when it came to his safety.

Over the past week, however, governmental security at Berkley had been ramped up and, in particular, Robert’s office as well as the two physics labs across the hallway from it, were guarded by army personnel.

No one was allowed to enter and, even though this impacted the research for your thesis, you did not dare to argue with these intimidating men, carrying guns and grimacing looks on their faces.

One man, in particular, stood out to you. He was tall, arrogant, and even more intimidating than the other. He was only there occasionally to check on how matters were progressing and it was this very same man who pulled you aside on a Friday afternoon and asked you to join him in Robert’s office.

“My name is General Lesley Groves” he introduced himself before gesturing for you to sit down on the chair across from Robert’s desk while he took a seat on Robert’s chair.

“Y/N Y/LN, pleasure to meet you” you said, attempting to shake his hand, but he would not allow it and gave you a stern look instead.

“I know who you are” he then said before placing a file with your name written atop of it on the desk, close enough for you to read the sentence “Security File” but far enough away from you for you not to reach it.

“Okay, so why am I here, in this room, with you, General Groves?” you asked nervously but politely, seeing how intimidating this man was for you.

“You are here because Dr J Robert Oppenheimer thinks very highly of you and I need to determine why” he told you sternly and hearing those words from the General came as a relief to you as, at least now, you knew that Robert was thinking of you.

“It’s about his project then, isn’t it?” you asked, wanting get some more information from this intimidating man who, unbeknownst to you at this point, was not going to give anything away.

“The project?” he thus asked, furrowing his eyebrows. “Now tell me, Miss Y/LN, what did Dr Oppenheimer tell you about the project?” he then wanted to know why giving you another intimidating look over.

“Nothing much. He just said that he would like me to join his team and that it would be a good career opportunity” you lied, causing the General to furrow his eyebrows again, this time more evidently than before.

“Well, he actually asked for two of his students to join this highly secretive government operation and, in both instances, security clearance was denied” the General pointed out, causing your heart to sink. You expected this to be the case since, after all, your parents were well known communists and, yet, you had been somewhat hopeful for a miracle.

“Now, with respect to the other student, my staff’s decision to deny him clearance was accepted by Dr Oppenheimer. There was no issue whatsoever. With you, however, Dr Oppenheimer held firm to his belief that your involvement in the project is vital. With your status as an undergrad student however, I cannot, for the life of me, understand why your involvement is so important to a man of Dr Oppenheimer’s intelligence. So, perhaps, you can shed some light into his reasons me?” the General then asked you in the most intimidating manner and you really did not know what to say and how to answer him.

“Did you ask him about his reasons?” you thus asked without receiving any sort of reaction from General Groves. “Because, if not, I suggest that you do that rather than interrogate me. Now would you excuse me” you then told him while standing up. You were ready to leave and, since the General did nothing but stare at you for the past two minutes, you were frustrated by the situation. You knew that there was nothing you could do about the army’s decision to deny your security clearance and, thus, simply wanted to put this matter to rest.

The General, however, would not allow you to go just yet and ordered you to sit down, which was a request with which you reluctantly complied.

“I asked Dr Oppenheimer about his reasons and he seems to think that your approach to quantum physics is innovative and new. You are an A grade student and your work at Harvard was exceptional and so is your work at Berkley, which is why I am considering his request to review your security clearance rejection which, was actioned by one of my senior staff members last week” Lesley Groves explained and you thought that, perhaps, there was still a chance for you to get on to the project.

“What do you want to know?” you thus asked while leaning forward and pressing your hands together nervously, fidgeting and sweating all at the same time.

“I want to know about your communist associations” General Groves then requested and you chuckled.

“I am not a communist and I have cut ties with everyone who is a party member so, really, there are is no association” you told him with quite some confidence in your voice and, the truth was, that you had nothing to hide.

“Your father was recently arrested for suspected treason. What do you have to say about that?” the General then went on to ask while taking some notes and, again, you managed to answer him confidently.

“Suspected, yes, but I doubt that he actually committed an offence. He is not that stupid. In any event, I have not spoken to him in over a year so I my thoughts on this matter are neutral” you explained as you had no intel on your father’s party involvement these days.

“Are you a communist party member?” Lesley Groves then asked which, again, earned him a chuckle.

“You already know that I am not and never was, myself, a party member. I am sure that information is in your file” you informed him and, for a moment, he chuckled himself. He knew that you were right. This information was, indeed, in his file and, yet, he asked you about it nonetheless.

“What is your relationship to J Robert Oppenheimer?” was the next question he asked and this question caused you to lie.

“He is my professor and thesis supervisor” you told him which, of course, was the truth.

“Is that all he is to you?” the General then wanted to know and you nodded.

“Yes” you lied, which is when the General retrieved two letters from your security file.

“Would you like to reconsider your answer?” he then asked as he handed you the letters which, clearly, he had already opened and read.

“What is this?” you asked before puling them apart and commencing to read them slowly while General Groves remained silent, giving you some time to digest the content of them which, to your surprise, was largely romantic in nature.

Both letters were from Robert and included poems as well as accounts of your sexual encounter. The letters were explicit in nature but also highly passionate which was something that surprised you. He clearly missed you and he most certainly had already developed strong feelings for you, using phrases like “my love” and talking of your future together which, in your mind, did not even exist.

“Oh my god, did you read these?” you eventually asked with blushing cheeks, seeing how personal these letters were.

“Yes, I did” the General answered you bluntly and you broke out in anger.

“These letters are personal. You had no right” you began to say angrily which is when General Groves interrupted you.

“This is a national emergency Miss Y/LN. We are at war with Germany and I am here to ensure that a project like the one being implemented right now isn’t subject to treason. The last thing this country needs is information being leaked to the enemy” he told you with a voice stern and authoritive.

“You mean the allies” you chuckled, causing the General to give you a look of confusion.

“What?” he asked and you ought to clarify.

“Your concern is that someone like myself would leak information to the soviet-union. This is why you are doing all this, is it not?” you asked while rolling your eye in disbelieve.

“Perhaps. So, let me ask you again, what is your relationship with J Robert Oppenheimer?” the General then repeated and you answered him again, this time more truthfully than before.

“I am his student. He is my professor and thesis supervisor. We had sexual relations once” you admitted while crossing your arms. “Now are you satisfied?” you asked and, indeed, he was.

“Yes, I am. I am satisfied that my colleague has made the right decision to deny your security clearance” General Groves announced and your heart dropped. “You can keep the letters, noting that I have asked Dr Oppenheimer to refrain from contacting you again. No doubt you will be attending his lecture at Berkley next week, which will be his last, following his resignation as professor at this facility. But other than that, I expect there to be no further contact moving forward. Do you understand?” Lesley Groves then asked and, whilst you tried hard to hold back your tears, you could not and stood abruptly before barging towards the door, thereby ignoring his question.

“Miss Y/LN, I would suggest that you choose your intimate partners more wisely moving forward. The rejection of your security clearance will be noted on record, thus impacting future employment opportunities” the General then said as you had already turned your back to him and this, itself, hurt even more, knowing that you would now struggle finding employment in the field you were so passionate about.

To be continued…

Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!

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#cillian murphy #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy imagine #Oppenheimer #oppenheimer x reader #j robert oppenheimer x reader #j robert oppenheimer #oppenheimer x y/n #oppenheimer x you #j robert oppenheimer x you #lesley graves #manhatten project #robert oppenheimer #lesley groves

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a-very-tired-jew · 9 days

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The Dropout Discord is closing down

The reasoning we are given is that it's taking too much time, effort, and money to manage the server for the moderation team and that there is friction in the community due to the cast being present in the server (fans are reticent to criticize if cast are watching). However, I can't help but think I have had a bit of an impact. At this point I'm in the double digits with examples of antisemitism in the the server, and I still have more I haven't posted. Ever since I started blogging about the outright antisemitism in the server there has been changes. These changes might seem minor, but they coincide with certain posts getting attention (I know correlation isn't causation, but it does make me think). The first one was taking away reactions to announcements which coincided with me pointing out that the server removed Israeli flag reacts to anything at the behest of certain users. Every other country's flag was allowed, but not Israel's. I never did get the opportunity to see if a Magen David react would elicit the same response though. The rules in the Palestine channel itself changed multiple times as well and they went from being a discussion and education channel to simply an education channel that discouraged discussion (which their rule 2 says discussion is allowed, but they don't abide by this). Whenever there is a discussion in said channel it often devolves into outright antisemitism and conspiracy, which is very bad optics and quite a number of people have said they have canceled their subscriptions because of it. They also removed anyone who remotely questions the narrative of said channel and points out the problems. Hell, they literally removed an account today (May 6th, 2024) for doing just that (albeit this was an account that had just joined and was therefore disingenuous in its intent). I also noticed that many of the users that I have documented being antisemitic since the channel's inception have stopped interacting with it this past month or so. This also coincides with the emphasis on OPSEC in the channel and the lawyers getting involved back in March, so the policies changed again. The recent posts about antisemitism have been about people newly interacting with the channel.

They are also enshrining this particular channel so as to not lose the resources they have listed. However, they are removing all chat functions for the entire server. Again, I have to ask why keep these resources and remove the chat feature so that people can discuss them if there isn't a problem revolving around discussion of said materials? But the answer is, once again, that antisemitism and other issues quickly appear in these conversations (literally someone said the "only solution is intifada revolution" earlier today, which has since been deleted). So yeah, I think this is their response to all the outright antisemitic hate I have catalogued over these past few months. It allows them to address the issue under the guise of too much work and financial strain without being accused of silencing certain voices that would cause problems (which they did previously when the OG Palestine channel was shut down for the same reasons). However, I could be wrong, and I could have had no impact whatsoever. Who knows? I sure as shit won't.

#jumblr #leftist antisemitism #antisemitism #dropout tv

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zoeykallus · 8 months

Note

heya! I'm not sure if your requests are closed, and by no means do I hope to overwhelm you further with more requests :'D feel free to ignore this especially bc it's more of a negative request aaa

so as context: sometimes I zone out and due to my childhood I will flinch if I see a movement coming at me which at the time I thought was understandable/normal but my bf has already expressed his disappointment every time I flinched or denied physical affection and left me being the one who apologizes for a reflex and I was wondering how the batch (platonically) would react to the reader (preferably female) telling them that story if the reader was the batch's bffs or smth? :'D (plus Cody if that's okay!) I'd be curious to know if they would just try to calm me down or if they would try to encourage me to get that specific thing fixed maybe?

argh I'm so sorry for the long ass text cRIES

again no pressure whatsoever with this waaah

Aloha! 😊

Interesting question. Personally, I think personal space should always be respected, no matter how close we are with someone. In a relationship, most people tend to loving physical contact in many different forms, and I see how this reaction can be surprising or off-putting for some. But with a little empathy and patience, that really shouldn't be a problem for a partner to get used to and accept. If my partner is jumpy with such reflex reactions, I should be able to adjust. There is a reason for this reaction and I think you shouldn't be, or feel pressured to apologize for it. All in all, communication (and an understanding, open mind) is key, as it almost always is. Then there is also the option to try and get that out of your system, so to speak. Therapy might help, it's worth a try or two. After all, it would possibly make things easier for you as well, giving you more comfort in everyday life. Easier said than done, I know. But that's just my two cents. Either way, I'm wishing you all the best 😊 Let's see...

The Bad Batch/Cody x Reader HCs - The Flinch

Warnings: Implied Trauma / Traumatic Reflex Reaction

_________

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

_________

>Masterlist<

Hunter

It can happen casually, maybe he doesn't really think about it, just wants your attention for a moment, but you are busy, and your mind is elsewhere. A brief touch on the shoulder, innocent, gentle, without ulterior motives. Still, you flinch and turn around so quickly, startled, that he flinches briefly himself.

Hunter in no way intended to scare you or offend you, he would never do that consciously. Of course, he apologizes, you are close friends, he knows your past that you confided in him.

"I should have known better, I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

He is patient, gentle and forgiving. Hunter tries his best to be sensitive to you and respect your boundaries. He is careful in his interactions with you, considerate.

Echo

The first time it happens, he is so startled by your reaction that he backs away and looks at his hand as if he expects to see it red-hot, or spiked. He blinks a few times, then says, "Sorry, did I scare you?"

Whether you confide in him or not, Echo will never hold it against you. He can understand that your reaction has a background, and he can respect that you don't want to share it with him. This does not change the fact that he will take it into consideration.

He sometimes seems strict and so serious, but he has an antenna for the sensitivities of others. It is in his nature to be considerate.

Wrecker

He is a bit impetuous and very affectionate. Scaring you or triggering a reaction is never his intention, but it can still happen quite a few times. You can speak openly with Wrecker, he is happy to listen to you, he is understanding even if you don't tell him everything.

He will always apologize if it still happens accidentally, and he will never blame you for these reactions. He will rather make sure that others around you respect your personal space as well.

Tech

He is not a particularly physical guy. On the contrary, Tech values his personal space and usually respects that of others around him. In combat, this may not be possible at times, but in general everyday life, Tech tends to keep a polite distance.

If he does trigger that automatic flight or defensive reaction, he apologizes immediately, and you can assume it won't happen again. He himself is not a fan of surprising touches, which is why he doesn't like Wreckers' little nudges at all and usually lets them pass with rolling eyes or critically furrowed brows.

Crosshair

As almost always, his first reaction is a bit grumpy. He doesn't immediately understand what's going on, but he's a good observer and a bright guy. Of course, he notices that you have these reactions more often, even with other people.

Crosshair reads your body language and realizes that this is a learned, habitual reflex reaction. He understands that there is a real, possibly deep-seated reason behind it. Of course, he adapts, even if he doesn't like to admit it, he can be considerate and very understanding.

So you don't have to worry about him. He certainly doesn't respect or appreciate you less than before because of that. In fact, it awakens a certain protective instinct in him.

Cody

At first, he is surprised, but he is neither offended nor annoyed. But he is attentive. As a soldier, he's learned to read body language, to interpret reactions, and even though you might not say anything about it, Cody understands pretty quickly what makes you tick.

You can count on him to pay attention to that in the future. You don't have to apologize to him, you can just be yourself and relax. Cody is always a safe haven.

He also won't let other people maybe cause you problems because of it. Anyone who teases you about it or makes fun of you should be prepared to get in trouble.

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drdemonprince · 19 days

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Any chance you'd expand on the hank hill trans guy post? (Sorry, best indicator I could come up with.) The concept interests me as I decidedly know my maleness, yet don't feel impeded by for the most part, any male gendered norms/boxes. I am fairly masculine, though I rarely use those kinds terms to describe myself. I have found I often do stray outside of what society pushed for me when I transitioned, yet I again do not feel it has taken from my right to maleness whatsoever. I am just me, who happens to be male. I have had friends try and suggest I am NB adjacent but I do not feel this way whatsoever. I feel more people are outliers to gender expectation than we care to admit and it's disappointing the way cis-people deny that. Hope this wasn't too long winded, I value your writing and perspective, and wanted to hear more of your thoughts on this.

Yeah, well so many things all get conflated by gender labels, and it's all so personal, you know? Masculinity does not have to mean maleness, and a person's gender identity might be a reflection of some innate quality they experience themselves as having, or a general summary of their tendencies, or their desired presentation, or their sense of affinity with other people, or an interpersonal tool, or something they just go along with because it was given to them by society, or any other number of things.

I think my recent substack piece on detransition goes into this pretty well, and I have an upcoming piece of what @pastimperfection calls "bilateral dysphoria" that comes out next week that delves into it too.

I think I mostly saw taking on a male identity as a means to an end more than any kind of innate reflection of who I was, though I did feel an affinity with effeminate men for a lot of reasons. I think I also discounted how much I have in common with my fellow nonbinary people of all stripes, because that identity became so strongly associated with being an annoying type of queer person that everybody else just wrote off as ultimately being their assigned gender at birth anyway no matter how much they protested. it doesn't help that 'nonbinary' is a catchall term for literally thousands if not millions of very distinct experiences and desires.

transitioning gave me control over how i was perceived, finally, but hormones are a throttle that only go in one very specific direction, and you don't really have all that much control over which changes kick in at which times and what people will make of you once you do start registering to them as some identity other than what you were first saddled with. it's an incredible gift to be able to toggle that throttle. but it's limited, not because medical transition isn't incredible and needed for so many, but because there is no escaping the goddamned binary cissexist logic that influences everything about how people treat you, how you navigate institutions, who finds you desirable and what they want out of you, and so much else.

if you're able to cast a lot of the external societal bullshit aside and feel strong in your maleness, maybe you're stronger than me or maybe our orientation to these things is just different, i don't know. i was never all that sensitive to feedback that i was doing the whole being-a-woman-thing all that wrong. i reveled in violating those rules to an extent. succeeding at being a woman despite my best attempts was what felt super dysphoric. and now i guess im succeeding at being a man, insofar as im always read as one, and it feels just as uncomfortable and objectifying and false. i thought that with manhood i could probably just grit my teeth and deal with it, but i'm finding that i can't.

ive always been very open that for me, gender is a thing I Do, and i guess to those who know me well it wouldnt be surprising to hear that i have gotten tired of Doing Being a Man and dont feel like playing that particular gendered game anymore. I tend to get bored of things! and find the flaws in things. and find my comfort in being fault-finding and contrarian and not being a joiner. and thats okay. i learned a lot along the way. not having to try any more is a huge relief. i can just do whatever. and know actively that people will more often than not be wrong in what they make of me.

maybe it was natural feeling for you to decidely 'know' your maleness without a care for masculine standards because that is the right identity for you! and maybe i only feel secure in the "not knowing" realm and in letting go of what people think of me or finding any kind of tidy categorization for it because that's the right spot for me. for now. until i find a new interesting way to be unhappy and striving for more and different again. :) that's just part of being alive, for me.

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thatgorlnatalia · 1 year

Text

𝒹𝑜𝑒 𝑒𝓎𝑒𝓈 | heeseung

Synopsis: telling the truth is scary, but it’s even scarier when nobody can lie to the boy you like | you steal glances at him like everyone else, but what if you knew he looks back?

Word Count: 9k

Genre: fluff, minor angst, just two lovesick teens | high school au

Pairing: Non-Idol!Heeseung x Fem!reader

Warnings: slight cursing, mentions of food

Playlist: doe eyes

“It must be lonely.” you always thought. Whenever you see him pass you by in the halls, past you to get to his seat, to get his lunch, or even on his way home, he is never with anyone else. Everyone avoids him and you couldn’t help but feel immense guilt that you’re a part of “everyone”. Since you were kids, it was already established it would be best no one goes near him “just in case”. Still, you couldn’t help but wonder if he had gotten used to it by now. Everyone’s eyes are always on him, but looking away whenever he looks back. You wondered if he felt creeped out or saddened by that. Or if he even knew. Of course he did, and it was tough to have to learn quickly as a child that you would walk this earth all by yourself. But he did and he’s managed to get this far, even if it still sometimes pops up in his mind. No matter how hard he tried to ignore it and pretend it didn’t bother him, it made him upset deep down to know that things were never going to change.

“You’re staring again.” your friend, Sieun, says as she looks between you and Heeseung. You snap out of your thoughts and turn your head back to her as you finish grabbing things from your locker. “You need to be more careful, if he even looks back at you-”

“Everyone always makes it seem like he has the power to turn you to stone,” you close your locker, shoving the last item you grabbed into your bag, “he just makes people tell the truth.” you say as you zip up your bag and sling it over your shoulder.

“That’s dangerous!” she exclaims, quietly, while leaning closer to you as if she is trying to tell you something nobody else should hear. “Some things are better kept as secrets. Imagine trying to just talk to him and bam! you end up telling him you murdered like, three people last night.” she protests, leaning back and crossing her arms.

You raise an eyebrow.

“Is that really the best example you could come up with? Wouldn’t it be better if someone actually did confess to that?”

She rolls her eyes and shakes her head.

“That’s not the point. He doesn’t need to know everyone’s business, so it’s best to just stay away.”

She links her arm with yours, glancing at him before urging you to start walking with her towards your class together.

It had been like that for as long as you can remember, nobody being able to give you a reasonable explanation as to why you should stay away from him. It never made sense, especially since just being within close proximity of him doesn’t cause you to tell the truth, looking him in the eyes does. You don’t know what they look like, and to be honest, you barely know what he even looks like. You look back at him as you and Sieun walk away. He’s at his locker, reading something with his earbuds in, as usual. You felt your hands squeeze into fists as you lightly sighed. Despite never having an actual conversation with him or knowing anything about him whatsoever, he fascinated you. His head began to shift upward and you quickly looked back ahead of you.

He looked up, not looking for anyone or at anyone in particular. Who would it have been, anyway? Nobody knew him–personally–and he knew nobody. His eyes shifted around until they landed on you, as you were walking away. That was a lie, he does know one person.

“Do you think his parents look him in the eyes?” Sieun suddenly asks, sick of the silence between you two, despite the loud chatter from the others around you.

You sigh, “Why would you even ask something like that?”

She shrugs her shoulders, turning her head to look at you.

“How did they find out?” she asks, as if you had any of the answers.

You look back at her as she turns to look ahead of her again.

“How am I supposed to know that? All I know is that somebody knew and just told everyone else.”

You looked ahead as well, nearing your classroom.

“I wonder how it happened.” she mumbles to herself, genuinely wanting an answer, but knowing nobody has one.

You open the door to the classroom, letting her go in first as you follow, closing the door behind you. You both made your way to your seats, taking them before getting things out of your bag.

“Don’t you feel bad for him, though?” you suddenly asked.

Sieun shrugs, zipping up her bag after gathering her things onto her desk.

“It’s hard to feel bad for him, he’s also not making an effort to talk to anybody.”

You place your things on your desk before looking at her.

“It’s kind of hard to bond with people after they’ve been told to avoid you like you're some sort of disease.”

You lowered your voice a little as the door opened, Heeseung walking through. The classroom went silent as he made his way to his seat, all the way on the back corner of the class. Kids mumbled to one another before going back to whatever they were originally talking about. The classroom was separated, everyone on one side and him by himself. Even the desks were separated far enough from his, kind of cramping the students close together, but no one seemed to mind. Sieun looked away from him, but you continued to stare. You wanted to work up the nerve to talk to him, but it was hard. What if he actually didn’t want anyone to bother him? You would rather he never knew you existed than hate you.

“You’re staring…again.” she says as she opens her book to the right page.

You look away and face forward in your seat, doing the same as she was before the bell rang.

Heeseung looked up, hesitantly glancing over at you. You two had been in the same class since middle school, but have been going to the same schools since you were kids. Of course he knew who you were, you were the only one who wasn’t afraid to even be near him and he may have heard you a few times when you would defend him when other kids were saying something bad about him. He wanted to talk to you, badly, but he wasn’t sure if you were secretly like everyone else: afraid. The teacher walked in and he looked away, not noticing his lips forming a small smile at the thought of you, at the thought of even talking to you. It was stupid, and he knew it was impossible, for you to even remotely think of him like that, but at some point he found every inch of his body hoping you felt the same way about him that he felt about you.

“Are you seriously staring at him again?” Sieun asks, clearly annoyed that you weren’t paying attention to her.

You look away from Heeseung, as he sat at his usual table by himself, doing his homework with his earbuds in.

“I just feel so bad.” you mumble as you push some of your food around on your tray.

Sieun groans for an exaggerated amount of time, it only getting louder as she suddenly stomps her feet on the ground out of annoyance. People stare as you set down your utensils and motion your hands to try and get her to stop as you tell her to shush. She does, looking at you like she is fed up. She is, of course. Everyday, you always talk about how badly you feel for him and yet you do nothing about it. Although the topic of discussion for everyone is about him sixty percent of the time, she was genuinely getting tired about how much you seemed to actually be bothered by his loneliness, maybe even more than he was.

“If you want to go and fill your savior complex, by all means, go and sit with him.” she seethes, letting out a huff as she grabs some food before eating it.

You glance back over at Heeseung. The sunlight from the window that was next to his table shone on him, making it seem as though he was glowing. He looked angelic and you felt butterflies erupt in your stomach. He’s just sitting there, but he’s always managed to be the most perfect person in your eyes. You stand up, placing your hands on the table, Sieun looks up at you with her mouth full of food.

“Okay, I’ll go and sit with him.”

She starts coughing, slightly choking on her food. She hits her chest a few times, finally being able to swallow the food.

“What? Wait, are you actually-”

You cut her off by walking over to him. Your steps seemed way more sure of themselves when you were further from his table. You slowly started to hesitate, anxiety starting to shoot through your body as you inched closer to him. You finally managed to just barely make it to his table, ever so slowly taking a seat across from him. The lunchroom fell silent as you were taking your seat and you swore, people could hear your bones creaking if they were to actually do so. Total silence, total utter silence once you managed to finally sit. He hadn’t noticed, he’s too busy finishing up his homework to even see that the girl he has been wanting to talk to for ages just sat in front of him. You were unsure of what to do. Should you interrupt him? Or should you run away and hide from embarrassment because it was starting to look like he was intentionally ignoring you? …was he intentionally ignoring you? You decided not to find out, and filled with regret, you stood up quicker than you sat down. Standing up, however, caused you to bump into the table, shaking it a bit. You froze, you felt your muscles tense up so badly that if someone came up to you and poked you, you would break into a million pieces. He froze too, not wanting to look up and accidentally make eye contact with the person who was standing in front of him. The situation seemed to have gotten worse for you, as you both were frozen and the silence in the room seemed to become more deafening.

“Get. Back. Over. Here!” You heard Sieun whisper shout and although she was trying to have only you hear it, everyone else did as well.

You mentally agree with her, but just as you were going to walk back over to her, back to the safety of your familiar table, he looks up. Even he isn’t fully sure as to why he looks up, considering he rarely ever does, but he does anyway. His head up turns slowly, his heartbeat fastening as his eyes scan your standing figure in front of him. In the back of your mind, you know why you continue to stand there, because you desperately want to see him. Your hand grips the end of your skirt, nervous as his eyes finally meet yours. You gasped lightly and he felt his heart practically burst in his chest. He’s seen you from afar, but upclose, he couldn't have imagined you to be any more beautiful than you are standing in front of him. You on the other hand, you couldn’t stop looking at his eyes. He was captivating, absolutely captivating. There he was, looking at you, and you couldn’t help but feel like you had just made eye contact with the love of your life.

“Beautiful.” you said, louder than you had wanted. It was like his eyes held power over you, squeezing you to say exactly what was on your mind and they wouldn’t stop until you’ve done what they wanted. It didn’t feel evil or forced, it felt like you were secure and just wanted to pour your heart out, letting go of every single burden you kept locked up deep inside.

Chuckles begin to scatter across the lunchroom, making you look away from him. Your head began to spin a little, as if you had just been woken up from a deep sleep. You looked around to see everyone staring at you and already talking about what you had said. Embarrassment begins to set in as your face becomes hot, making you walk away–quicker than you would have if you initially left–over to grab your bag before jogging out of the lunchroom. Sieun stands up to follow you, taking one last bite of her food before grabbing her bag and rushing off after you. Heeseung sat there. Even though he may not have heard you actually call him beautiful aloud, he heard you in his head. That’s just how it works for him, he could never just not know what secret someone has to say no matter how hard he would try not to listen because in the end, the secrets would play in his head as you say them. But this one, this one he didn’t mind one bit. You called him beautiful. He wanted to stop you before you could leave, but you did before he had the chance. “Beautiful.” he replayed your words over and over in his mind. He’s had people confess many things to him before, but no one has ever told him he is beautiful. If you hadn’t left so quickly, he was sure he would have said the same thing to you.

“It wasn’t as bad as you think.” Sieun says, trying to reassure you. You grip your hair harder as you groan. “It’s honestly even weirder for you to be sitting on the curb, practically curled up into a ball.” she says, trying her best to comfort you, but failing miserably.

You look up, with a clear expression that what she was saying was not helping despite her efforts. She sighs as she takes a seat beside you.

“I should have known better.” you mumbled, the moment playing over and over in your head.

“Yeah, you should have.” Sieun agrees. You look at her, glaring and she looks back at you. “What?” she asks defensively, “I told you not to go over to him, but you did anyway and look what happened, you said quite possibly the most random thing ever to someone you have never spoken to.”

You groaned again as your head fell back down into your lap. Sieun pats your shoulder, but stops, grabbing your shoulders in order to make you look at her.

“What.” you say rather than ask, simply just wanting to be left alone so you can be swallowed whole by the ground.

“What was it like?” she asks, a sparkle in her eye as if you came back from a treacherous journey that bestowed all of the most powerful secrets into your knowledge.

“Looking him in the eyes?” you ask, wanting her to clarify.

She nods her head, letting go of your shoulders. You look away from her, sighing as you picture his eyes in your head.

“They’re beautiful.” you say as if you’re in a trance, again. “He’s perfect.”

“My gosh, you’re actually that into him?” she asks, pulling you out of your daze once again.

You look back at her and sigh.

“I don’t know how to explain it, but looking at him–looking into his eyes–I just felt…I just felt like I was meant to meet him.”

“I’m not asking about how badly you have it for him, I’m asking what it was like to have him force the truth out of you.”

You roll your eyes, looking at her.

“It didn’t feel forced, it just felt natural. Like, whatever was on my mind was meant to be shared.”

Sieun pouts and cups her face in her hands, resting her elbows on her knees.

“I should really ask someone who isn’t in love with him what it’s actually like.”

“Then do it yourself.” you suggest.

She scoffs and shakes her head.

“I might end up saying something super personal, I’m not risking it just because I want to find out.”

You felt your heart sink a little.

“Isn’t that sad?” you ask, even though you and Sieun were talking, your question wasn’t directed to anyone in particular, maybe you more than anyone.

“What?” she asks.

You continue to look ahead at the people and cars passing by, but Sieun turns to look at you.

“The fact that no one talks to him because they’re too afraid to say something they don’t want to.”

Sieun looks away from you and stretches her legs out in front of her, looking at her shoes.

“It seems reasonable, to be honest. You already have to live with the secrets you want to keep, but possibly exposing them just to talk to someone? It doesn’t seem worth it.”

“But you can still talk to him without looking each other in the eyes.”

“Wouldn’t that be worse? Wouldn’t you rather not talk to anyone all together compared to never looking at them. I feel like that would just be even more awkward.”

You both sit there in silence for a moment, just listening to tires rolling across the street and the calamity of footsteps from people walking passed mixed with their voices from many conversations. Both options seem equally as bad and you sigh as you do the same as Sieun, stretching out your legs in front of you.

“I think I’d still rather talk to him.”

“Well,” she says, scooting a little closer to you as she rests her head on your shoulder, “it seems like you’re going to have to talk to him anyway, tomorrow.”

You groan, looking down at your hands in your lap. You pick at the corners of your fingers, biting the inside of your cheek.

“I think I’d rather have one of these cars run me over.”

“Mom, I’m home.” Heeseung announces as he walks into his house.

He slips off his shoes and puts on his slippers, the sound of footsteps approaching him at the entrance. He looks up and smiles, his mom approaching him before opening her arms for a hug. He steps over to her, accepting her hug and tightly wrapping his arms around her. She does the same, squeezing him before pulling back a little to cup his face in her hands.

“My handsome son, how was your day at school?” she says, using one of her hands to stroke the side of his head before placing it back on his cheek.

He smiles sadly, she always says this, but he can never be sure whether or not she’s telling the truth. She’s the only person who can lie to him while looking him in the eyes because she technically can’t look him in the eyes. And even though he would never admit it to her, he feels immense amounts of guilt whenever he looks her in the eyes, because he took that away from her.

“The same as usual.” he says, trying not to sound like it bothers him.

She frowns.

“They’re all still avoiding you?” she asks in the type of tone that makes you want to just hug her and cry. He smiles, sadly, a small part of him comforted by the fact that she can’t see it.

“Not everyone.” he says, glancing over to see her white cane leaning against the wall. He tuts, glancing back at her before walking over to grab it. “You can’t just keep leaving this here.” he says, walking back over to her and gently placing it in her hand.

“I can walk just fine without it.” she declares.

He reaches out to hold the hand he put the cane in. His fingers slowly wrap around hers and the cane, him rubbing his thumb on the back of it. She smiles, comforted by the feeling.

“Just promise me you’ll at least try.” he says softly.

She smiles, turning to face him from the direction his voice is coming from before nodding her head.

“I’ll try.” she promises.

You slowed down your pace as you made your way into the slightly warmer grocery store, letting out a stifled sigh, releasing the cold air you had just inhaled on your walk over. There was no need to scan the signs for a specific aisle to find what you were looking for, you already knew where to find what you wanted. As you made your way slowly throughout the store going to the section where they had the drinks, you basked in the calmness that the store emitted. There weren’t many people there and the beeps at the register along with people talking every now and then felt somewhat comforting. You walked down the drink section, a short one but it still had many options to choose from, your attention fully on the selection as you continued to be in autopilot mode. You mindlessly reached for the drink you wanted when suddenly another hand went for the same drink as you. You stood there for a second, coming back to reality as you realized your fingertips were touching someone else’s. As if you both were sharing the same brain, you both pulled your hands back from the drink at the same time.

“Sorry.” is all the person said.

You weren’t really in the mood to be interacting with others, let alone now having to discuss who was going to take the drink, so you just nodded your head and grabbed the drink, your hands slowly starting to become cold from it. You were about to walk away without another word when you had finally turned to see the person next to you was none other than Heeseung. You stopped, now regretting your rude behavior and cursing at yourself in your head for two reasons. The first: you acting like a jerk in front of him and the second: you having to see him after your encounter earlier today.

Heeseung stands there in the silence created by you two with the low humming of the refrigerators at least filling up some of the empty space. He was confused why the other person wasn’t talking, let alone took the drink, the only thing–might he add–that his mom asks for him to get at the store, without even asking if he wanted it. Feeling annoyed, he looks at the person, not caring if they wanted to say something embarrassing or not (he feels they deserve it now). But his ill intentions come to a halt when he realizes it’s you. He looked away from you as quickly as he could in order to prevent you from getting upset with him looking in your eyes.

“Oh…hey.” he says, just in case you might have thought that he didn’t want to see you when he in fact had been praying up until this moment to get another chance to talk to you.

What were you supposed to say first? A “hey” back or “I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable with my completely random and creepy comment I made about you earlier”? You weren’t sure, but luckily your brain led with a “hey” back as the winning contender.

“Hey…” you say, dragging out the ‘y’, trying to decide whether you saying anything in the first place was the right thing to do.

“So…um…” Heeseung starts.

He has no idea where to take this conversation. All the confidence he had in himself earlier diminished when he actually realized you were standing in front of him. He didn’t want to make you feel uneasy, but he really has no clue how to handle this situation, especially this type of situation with the girl he is practically head-over-heels for. He has been looking down at his feet from the moment he said “hey” and saw you extend the arm with the drink in your hand enough for him to see it.

“Did you want it? I can always just pick another one.” You say, not totally wanting to pick another one, but it felt like he might leave faster if you gave it to him (you felt it would be worse if you were the first one to leave after already trying to ignore him).

He reached for the drink, not fully processing his actions just yet, his hand meeting yours onto the cold bottle. His fingertips once again lightly come into contact with yours and it feels like electricity sparks between the two of you; he feels giddy at the sudden contact with you. He clears his throat, removing his hand from the bottle and looks up (to the side) rubbing the back of his neck with the same hand that just touched yours.

“Uh, no-” he stops, his mom always asks for this drink and he really doesn't want to make her sad. “Actually,” he says, “would it be alright if I did have it?” His eyes shift towards you, as if your presence is a magnet forcing all of his attention to be on you, but he stops himself despite how much he wants to look at you.

“Oh,” you say, trying to hide the evident disappointment in your voice, “sure, I did offer for you to take it after all.”

He takes it from your hand, and places it into the basket full of groceries he was currently holding in the other.

“Are you here for dinner?” he asks, desperately wanting to keep the conversation going, regardless of the rocky start.

“Yeah, my parents sometimes let me get something from here for dinner if they aren’t home.”

He nods his head, wanting to ask so many things, but not sure if you would want to answer any of them.

“Are you making dinner?” you ask.

“Oh, my dad is. My mom wanted something specific, so I’m just getting the groceries.” he says. “The drink is for her, actually. She usually asks for it whenever I go to the store.”

You nod your head, feeling worse for almost taking it. You look at him for a bit, a part of you wanting him to look at you again. Mixed in with the feeling of safety his gaze bestowed upon you, there was a hint of adoration and now that you’ve had a taste of it, you really wanted him to look at you again.

“Do you need help? With taking the groceries home, I mean.” you ask him.

This question catches him off guard. He looks at you, his breath caught in his throat when he looks at you.

“I’m sorry.” you say as you look into his eyes, his gorgeous doe eyes.

“For what?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

In this moment, he normally would look away to prevent the person from sharing anything more, but it felt as though your eyes were doing what his do to others. He wanted to know more, he wanted to look at you more, he wanted to bask in your gaze for just a moment longer.

“For saying what I said earlier, it was probably creepy.” you say, your face scrunching slightly at the thought of the moment.

He smiled, he smiled like a complete lovesick fool at your expression.

“I liked it.” he admits.

Your eyes go wide and as a result, his smile grows wider in return.

“You…what?” you asked, not sure if you were just hearing things or if this was a sign of you having a stroke and you were actually talking to air.

“I liked hearing you call me beautiful.” he simply stated, feeling an immense amount of relief and confidence washing over his body. “Nobody has ever said that to me before.”

“I meant it.”

His smile becomes smaller, as his ears turn a light shade of red. His expressions weren’t able to keep secrets as well because the way he looked at you was with nothing but love.

“I know.”

“Oh good, you’re finally home!” Heeseung’s dad announces from the kitchen.

Heeseung smiles at him as you follow in shortly after. His dad’s smile falls into nothing but an open mouth when he realizes his son had brought someone home. That someone also being none other than a girl.

“Hi.” you say, trying to make a decent first impression.

“Hi!” he says a little too enthusiastically back.

Heeseung’s eyes widened at his dad saying ‘please don’t embarrass me’ and his dad nodded his head discreetly, getting the message. “Hi.” he says again, extending his hand as you and Heeseung set down the bag of groceries.

You let out a short chuckle, shaking his hand while introducing yourself. You hesitate to look him in the eyes and he lets out an understanding sigh.

“Don’t worry, it’s only Heeseung.” he says quietly enough in hopes that his son won’t hear him.

“Is Heeseung home?” his mom asks over a tapping sound as she makes her way to the kitchen.

“Yes,” his dad says while making his way past you and Heeseung over to his wife, “and he brought a guest.” he whispers into her ear before kissing her cheek and smiling at her.

You look down, realizing the tapping was coming from a white cane and you look back at her to realize something else: she’s blind. She looks up at him and hits the side of his leg lightly with the cane.

“Really?” she whispers back with excitement.

“And it’s a girl.”

She gasps and looks forward at you, as though she senses your presence.

“Dad.” Heeseung whispers sternly, but his dad only shrugs his shoulders with a sheepish smile plastered on his face.

His mom makes her way over to you and you walk over to her to make it easier. She holds the cane to sit between her arm and the side of her ribcage as she extends her hand to shake yours. You take her hand in yours, a little surprised at how much smaller it is compared to yours and she smiles brightly.

“I can tell she’s pretty.” she says, making Heeseung embarrassed.

“Mom-”

She waves her other hand at him to quiet him and his dad lets out a small laugh.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” she says with the utmost sincerity.

“It’s really nice to meet you too.” you say, with the same feeling.

“She’s telling the truth,” she says as she turns her head towards Heeseung and her husband, she turns back to look at you, “I can tell.”

“Have you two been friends for long?” Heeseung’s mom asks as she takes a seat, but not before giving you a plate she had already made for you.

“Oh, no, not very long.” you say as you and Heeseung exchange a quick glance. “But we have been going to school with each other since we were kids.” you added, getting an approving nod from his dad and a proud smile from his mom.

Heeseung blushes a little, feeling his heart swell from the fact that you even have acknowledged his presence since you were kids.

“I’ve wanted to get to know him for a long time.” you say all on your own, being one hundred percent honest.

Heeseung looks at you and you look back at him smiling, “I guess I’ve just been shy.” you say more to him than to his parents.

He looks away and down at his food, feeling as though if you keep making him blush, he is not going to be able to ignore the growing urge to kiss you.

“But people have told you to stay away.” his mom says, not intending to sound as upset by the fact than she comes across. She doesn’t blame you, she thinks you seem fine, but it breaks her heart knowing her son has been alone for so long.

“Honey-” his dad says, reaching to touch her arm, but notices some food on the corner of her mouth. His mouth forms a small smile as he wipes it away with his thumb, causing her to smile in return. He reaches and grabs her hand before kissing her knuckles. She lets out a sigh.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be upset with you, I’m just glad he has a friend now.” she says, smiling at you. You return the smile and she lets out a happy hum as if she can see you smiling back at her.

If you were able to receive ten cents every time you had Heeseung walk you to the bus stop, you would have ten cents right now. His mom insisted (maybe borderline forced) Heeseung to take you to the bus stop for your “safety” (she really is just his wingman and could tell he liked you and you liked him, but mainly because she and her husband would make comments about the two of you being like a younger version of them).

“Thank you, again, for dinner. You really didn’t have to let me stay.”

Heeseung shyly chuckles.

“Of course we did, you helped with the groceries.”

“I owed you at least that.”

He shakes his head and shoves his hands deeper into his jacket pockets.

“You don’t have to feel embarrassed about it, you know.”

You cringe to yourself.

“Yeah, I think I do.”

You both laugh and fall into a comfortable silence, the sunset from earlier had turned into the dark night sky with stars scattered here and there. The street lamps were now lit and a few, if any, cars passed by on the street. Some stores were closed and others were still open, adding extra light from inside and from their signs. Heeseung turned to look at you, to see how radiant you are, even at night.

“Do you mind if I ask something?” you ask, causing him to snap out of his daydream.

“Yeah, what is it?” he replies, looking ahead again while hoping you didn’t catch him staring.

You stop walking, thinking somehow that would help you muster up the courage to ask the question you wanted the answer to. He stopped as well, worried he freaked you out and you regretted ever talking to him, he didn’t look at you though, he didn’t want to scare you more.

“How are you able to make people tell the truth?”

Normally, he would roll his eyes at this question and feel annoyed. He hated this question more than anything in the world. More than feeling like a constant outcast. More than hearing people stop talking whenever he enters the room. More than looking at his mom and feeling mass amounts of guilt whenever he sees her struggle. For you, however, he didn’t mind you asking. He knew you had no ill intentions behind it and genuinely wanted to know. Hell, maybe you would even consider becoming his friend if he explained what he knew to you. So, he turned around to face you, looking at your forehead, not your eyes, mainly so he wouldn’t have to hear any comments you have to say about what he is going to explain. Not because he had a problem with answering your questions, he was just scared there was a slim chance you would judge him and say you never wanted to speak to him again.

“I don’t know much, nothing like a complete origin story or anything like that. All I know is that one member of my family, for generations, has had the same ability as I do. The most recent one aside from me was my mom…” he trails off.

You stand there, maybe a little more confused than you were before.

“I don’t mean to come across as insensitive,” you say, “but isn’t your mom blind?”

He looks down at his feet, biting the inside of his cheek before letting out a sigh. He nods his head and looks back up.

“Yes…because of me.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“What do you mean?”

He refuses to look at you, especially with what he is about to say next. What if you call him heartless? A monster? A mistake? If not looking at you means that he wouldn’t have to hear something like that coming from you in regards to him, he’ll take that any day, even if it meant ignoring you for the rest of his life. He would rather die with just remembering you calling him beautiful than looking at him with disgust.

“The first child of a person with this ability automatically passes the ability to them. The catch is, they don’t get to keep their vision, they lose it. No matter if the person who originally had the ability is able to actually give birth to the child themselves, they lose their vision once that child is born.”

You stand there, unable to process how something like this is even possible in the first place.

“So when you were born, your mom became blind?”

He nods his head, feeling the guilt already wash over him again.

“That must be such a hard thing to live with.” you say, sympathetically.

He fights the urge to look at you, to find out if you are saying what you really mean or if you are just being nice before you ignore him forever.

“Sometimes…I feel like my dad avoids my gaze because he blames me for it.” he admits.

You shake your head.

“It doesn’t seem like your father resents you for it, I don’t think your mom feels the same way.”

“You’ve only met them once.” he says, not meaning to sound harsh.

“I know,” you say gently, “but I guess all I can say is that I’m sorry you’ve felt so alone for all this time. People have blamed you constantly for something you can’t control and I’m sorry that you’ve had to live not only with this guilt, but with the knowing that others resent you for it. Nobody deserves that, especially not you.”

He looks at you, tears beginning to brim his eyes. No one has ever said anything like this to him before. He’s never told anyone these thoughts, not even his parents. But you managed to say everything he had been longing to hear. Could you be any more perfect?

You felt a new feeling run throughout your body as he looked at you this time, it felt like you could feel his heart beating with yours, and it was beating fast. You became overwhelmed with the feeling of love, him looking at you and you looking at him, it felt like nothing else existed. It felt like destiny.

“I love you.” you blurt out.

Shit.

Shit…

Shit.

Although you hate to say it (mainly because it rarely happens and today it happened twice), Sieun was right. She was so right. Looking him in the eyes is dangerous. Somehow, you had managed to one-up the embarrassing moment from earlier and never in your life had you started praying so quickly that the floor would swallow you whole more than you did in this moment. Who were you to say that? Quite literally, you had never spoken to him before today, and you just said you love him? Are you crazy? Does he think you’re crazy? You would agree, but you would hate if he thought the same thing as you…Shit.

Heeseung is stunned. That might be a little too generic to describe how he feels at this very moment. He is absolutely, without a doubt, one thousand percent gobsmacked. Are you being serious? Of course you’re being serious, you’re looking him in the eyes, what a stupid question. What is he supposed to say? Of course he wants to say it back, of course he wants to cup your face and kiss your lips that he sometimes stares at instead of your eyes, of course he wanted to become your boyfriend and learn anything and everything about you while going on dates and of course he wanted nothing more than to hold you in his arms as he whispered the exact words you just said to him…but he can’t. Never in his life did he think he could never tell you how he felt, especially when you quite literally had just said what he had been dying for you to say, but he can’t. He could never live with himself by making you go through what his parents have to go through. Live with a child that is ignored and hated like him, live with him being blind and that he can never see you or his child grow up, live with the fact that you’ll have to work for the both of you. He could never do that to you. He could never live with himself for being so selfish. The mere thought of you–the only person who gave him an ounce of care and attention, the person he has increasingly adored over the years, the person he fell in love with–resenting him because of the burdens he would cause for you, it made him physically want to vomit.

“I…”

Crap…he can’t break your heart either. This is a lose-lose situation and damn, was he losing. Yes, he was also winning because it was you, you for crying out loud saying you are in love with him. He has to handle this delicately. No, he should just say it and then leave. No, that’s morbid…Shit.

“I don’t love you.” he says, somehow looking you in the eyes.

Big fucking mistake. He could see everything in your expression shift. He could see everything in your face fall and he could see that your eyes were becoming glossy as the tears forming stung them. He so badly wanted to say he is lying, tell you everything he is thinking and have you reassure him again, but that’s just the problem. This relationship would be you constantly reassuring him and he can’t let you live like that. He wants, no, needs for you to be happy and he knows better than anyone that you wouldn’t be happy with him. So as much as it breaks his heart to see that he just shattered yours, he knows (so far deep fucking down) that this is the right thing to do.

Well…this probably couldn’t have gone any worse than you had imagined. This is quite literally the darkest timeline, the worst possible outcome. And damn, did him rejecting you hurt. What are you supposed to do now? Sieun was right (for the third time now), speaking to him was probably the biggest mistake you could have ever made. All you could feel right now was a painful amount of sadness. Your body felt numb and you thought, once again, you were going to have a stroke. You felt embarrassed and hurt and as you blinked, so many tears began to stream down your cheeks which only seemed to result in you becoming angry. Angry that he now is watching you cry as he stands there, not in love with you, but you are so madly in love with him. You look at him, for what feels like the last time, in the eyes and he doesn’t look away, like he wants you to say everything you're thinking. Like he wants to know how badly he has broken your heart.

“I should have listened. I should have never talked to you.”

You didn’t care about what he had to say in return and you didn’t care about what you had just said to him, you were hurt and you took it out on him, sticking it where you know it hurts the most. Evil, maybe, but as you walked away from him, leaving for the bus stop to go home, you couldn’t care any less.

“Why are you so quiet this morning?” Sieun asks as you grab the things from your locker, nearly completely emotionless.

“You were right.” you mumble, the words feeling as though they leave a sour taste in your mouth.

Her eyes widen, peaking her interest, she leans closer to you with a smirk.

“Oh really? About what?” she asks smugly. You slam your locker door that she is right next to, causing her to jump back a little. “Ow! Did you not see me or something?” she asks, a little annoyed by what you just did.

“I should have never talked to him, you were right.” you say, biting your bottom lip to stop from crying as you zipped up your bag and put it on.

You had already spent the whole rest of the walk to the bus stop crying, the ride home crying, and the rest of the night crying before you fell asleep. Sure, you barely knew him, but somehow, someway, you fell in love with him and it hurt that the realization that he never fell in love with you came crashing down.

“What happened? Did you already talk to him about yesterday?” she asks, no longer being smug, but now being worried about just how distraught you seem to be about this whole thing.

“Yes. And like an idiot, when I looked him in the eyes, I told him I love him.”

She gasps loudly, loud enough to cause some students to look at you as you pass by them on your way to class.

“You told him you love him? What did he say?”

“What do you think?” you say, trying not to think about it.

“I’m sorry, I know you’ve had a crush on him for a long time.”

“It’s like he didn’t even care.” you say as you two walk into the classroom, towards your seats.

“What do you mean?”

“I thought maybe he at least liked me back, but he just looked at me and told me he doesn’t love me back and while I was standing there, crying, he just said nothing.”

“Not surprising since he probably lacks empathy due to the lack of human interaction.” she mumbles, becoming angry with him.

You had spent so much of your time talking about him and looking at him and defending him that it would be weird for Sieun not to feel annoyed at him. You’re her best friend and quite literally the only person who stuck up for him and he was going to treat you like that? Over her dead body. She isn’t unreasonable, she isn’t saying he has to love you back, but he doesn’t have to be so heartless about it. That jerk.

Heeseung walks into the classroom and the class falls quiet until he takes his seat. He doesn’t look at you. He can’t. He knows how much you now hate him after what you had said to him last night, you were the last person he thought would say that to him, but you did. He knows how badly he hurt you and the fact that he couldn’t make you feel better is something he despises. He does, however, feel eyes on him, but not like normal. No, these eyes feel filled with hate. He looks over and sees Sieun looking at him. By his mistake, he looks her in the eyes.

“Asshole.” she says out loud.

She looks away, feeling a little dizzy after, but satisfied (and relieved) that that is what she chose to say after looking him in the eyes. She got her answer now. She now knows what it feels like to look him in the eyes. Now she has a new question she wants the answer to: how would her fist feel punching his face?

“Hey, Heeseung.” Sieun calls out to him in the hall.

She had left you in the classroom because you had fallen asleep during the lesson, so she just decided to let you sleep during the break.

He stops, partly afraid to turn around, but then decides it might be best to just continue walking away. So, he does, with the plan to ignore her.

This only pisses her off more. How rude is this guy? Maybe there are more reasons why people choose to ignore him.

“Hey, asshole! Should I refer to you as only that from now on?”

He stops, knowing there is no escape from this conversation.

“Sieun-”

She cuts him off by turning him around, making both herself and him look each other in the eyes.

“Now, I had made a vow to myself to never look into your eyes, but you need to know that I am being serious with what I am about to say, so listen up you supernatural freak. My friend, she is one of the sweetest people that I know and when she cares about someone, she cares about them with all of her heart. For years she has felt bad for the way people treated you and has been the only one to actually do something about it, she did what no one else would do and that is talk to you. She likes you, a lot, and I’m not saying you have to like her back, but you should at least have the decency to not be a complete jerk about it. You broke her heart, do you even care? You broke the heart of the one person who actually cares about you, congratulations. Do you feel proud?” she says, fury in her eyes.

“I love her too.”

Sieun is taken aback. What is this guy’s problem? She scoffs and lets go of his arms, crossing her own.

“Yeah, right. Then why did you tell her you don’t?” He looks away, he isn’t about to tell her his thought process, she wouldn’t understand, the only person who might–if she still even cares about him–is you. “Whatever your dumb reason is, talk to her, hey–look at me.” He does. “I’m serious, talk to her.”

Oddly, Sieun told you she couldn’t walk to the bus stop with you, she said she had to talk to one of her teachers. Since when does Sieun do that? It doesn’t matter, you were left alone, alone with your thoughts and the memories of yesterday clouding your mind.

“Hey.” you heard a now all-too-familiar voice call out.

You stop, feeling your heartbeat quicken as you hear his footsteps approaching. Just the thought of being near him made your heart skip a beat, but you needed to forget all of that now.

“What.” you say flatly. “I have to get home, the bus isn’t going to wait forever.” you say as you already start to walk away.

“I love you.”

You stop again. You turn around meeting his eyes. His beautiful, kind, doe eyes. The eyes, no matter how much resentment you have tried to build towards him, you love.

“You don’t need to lie.” you say.

“I’m not.”

“How would I know? I don’t have the ability you do.”

“You should be grateful for that.” he tries to joke, but it doesn’t work.

How can he make this better? He should have just told you how he feels last night, but he didn’t and he is regretting it even more.

“Am I a joke to you?” you ask in response to his attempt to lighten the situation.

He shakes his head as he steps closer to you.

“I could never think of you as such, I really do love you. So much.”

He notices your eyes beginning to well up with tears and he remembers how you looked last night. His heart breaks at the sight and he takes one of his hands to cup your cheek. He rubs his thumb gently back and forth along your skin, both of you basking in each others’ touch. Every connection with you feels like a shared electricity current. There was no doubt about it, he is irrevocably in love with you.

“Then why did you tell me you don’t?”

He sighs, ready to pour his heart out to you (and ready for you to probably call him an idiot).

“I just…I really did. Believe me, all I really hoped for was for you to feel the same way I do and for you to want to get to know me as much as I want to get to know you, but when you said the words I had been longing to hear, I just couldn’t say them back. I thought about how our relationship would be like my parents and although they love each other, they have to deal with so many burdens and I just couldn’t stand the thought of putting you through any of that. Although we don’t know too much about each other, after all these years, talking to you and looking at you, I feel like I’m meant to love you for the rest of my life.”

Looking into his eyes, there were no secrets you needed to share with him at this very moment. His eyes no longer compelled you to do or say anything, your love for him did. Which is why you took your hands and grabbed the jacket of his school uniform before pulling him closer to you to kiss him. He didn’t need to think about anything else either, it was like his second nature to kiss you back. He finally got to do what he has been wanting to do since last night, which is hold your face in his hands as he poured all of his love for you into a kiss. Gentle, yet filled with passion, your lips moved together as if they were made to connect with each other. Slowly pulling away from each other with one last kiss, the feeling of each others’ lips still lingering on one another, your eyes met.

“Beautiful.” he said, moving one of his hands to move some of your hair from your face, not once looking away from you.

“I didn’t mean it, you know. Looking into your eyes was one of the best things I could have done.”

He smiles, feeling the happiest he has ever been, before leaning back in to kiss you, already missing the feeling of your lips against his.

938 notes · View notes

honkytonk-hangman · 1 year

Text

... And In Health

Jake Seresin x Aviator!Reader

Summary: A year after Jake has come to terms with his sickness, he might just have the opportunity to find the cure.

Notes/Warnings: note much, maybe some language? mostly just Jake being a sweety and being cute <3 This part is set about a year after the first one.

In Sickness...

Masterlist

When the waitress stops by your table for the fourth time, with a free pity-drink, your lip begins to wobble as she walks away. An hour ago you promised yourself you weren’t going to cry, at least not until you got home.

You’ve always been quick to emote, but even more so since your last breakup. Although you were shy and quiet, you hadn’t always lacked confidence in the romance department, but after finding your boyfriend sleeping with someone else, you hadn't realised the hit your self-esteem had taken until recently, when you’d started putting yourself out there again.

Suddenly instead of worrying about how your butt looked or what your hair was doing, you had deeper, far more troubling worries, like not ever being enough, and feeling like a constant burden.

Being stood up tonight was really, honestly, the very last thing you needed. Worse still, you knew that when you called your pickup, you were likely going to have to explain the situation, and that you weren’t looking forward to whatsoever. Which is why you’d been waiting out the time, so at least you might be able to convince Jake that your date had shown up.

You doubt he’ll believe you if you tried lying, your feelings were always much too clear on your face, you were practically an open book. Jake in particular always seemed to see right through you, like he was paying more attention to you, but you think he might just be observant of everyone. You wouldn’t allow yourself to go on thinking you were special in some way to him, even if the two of you had been slightly closer since your previous breakup.

You appreciated it, that’s as far as you would let yourself go. Jake had told you that he saw you as a friend, and even if you lacked self confidence in that friendship, you knew Jake was the sort of person who went hard for his friends.

Which was the whole reason he’d offered to pick you up tonight in the first place.

Your own car had been playing up and when you’d finally gotten it in the mechanics, they’d given you the unfortunate news that they weren’t going to have it back to you in time for your date tonight. You’d been telling Phoenix that you were going to cancel, as you didn’t feel comfortable being picked up by a date you didn’t know all that well, when Jake had chimed in that he would be your ride, if you still wanted to go. Although he still made you flustered when he fixed you with one of his looks, you really did trust Jake, and you wouldn’t have accepted if it were anyone else, because you also knew he would never have offered if he hadn’t meant it.

You have had a few regrets now, but you don’t let yourself linger on them. This whole situation was already pushing you to the edge, you know that Jake picking you up and likely being annoyed on your behalf shouldn’t count towards that… even if part of you feared he might start an ongoing joke about that time you were stood up.

You cringe when you shoot off an ‘all done’ text, and receive an ‘already??’ In reply, but you force yourself not to elaborate.

You don’t even have his car door shut before you’ve burst into tears.

“Hey, woah! What the hell happened?!” Jake’s voice is bewildered and slightly panicked, but quickly it turns hard. “Is he still in there? Wait here.”

Hurriedly you reach across to grab his shirt sleeve, one hand still rapidly trying to wipe your eyes, now filled with scratchy mascara specks.

“It’s fine, please. Just take me home?” You sniffle, trying your best to calm down and hope he looks past your sobbing and does as you ask. He doesn’t though, looking at you like you had absolutely lost your mind.

“You’re crying!” He gestures at you as if you weren’t away. You shake your head, before realising you can’t exactly deny it, and nod.

When he pulls open his door and steps out, he pulls himself from your grasp with little effort. Pathetically you let your hand drop and desperately wipe more at your eyes, trying to see where he’s going. You almost jump when your car door opens again and Jake appears, ducking down into your line of sight, his face stern, but his eyes slightly wide and very concerned. You feel bad for making him worry.

“Cricket,” Jake begins, digging into his glove box and pulling out a wad of face wipes. “I’m going to need you to explain to me why you are crying, otherwise I’m going in there.” He isn’t using his normal friendly voice, right now you’re confronted with Hangman, not Jake, and it actually comforts you a little. You knew how Hangman worked, Jake often gave you more cause for confusion.

“He didn’t come. I know I shouldn’t be so upset, I’m sorry. I’m just tired and—”

“—He didn’t come?!” He cuts you off, sounding disgusted, and when you look up at him, you see his lip curled and his face pulled into a snarl. You drop your gaze, and all of sudden his temper seems to disappear and change entirely.

“So you’re saying he’s not even in there for me to chat to?”

It makes you snort a little, and when you glance up at him, Hangman is gone and once again you’re with Jake. You watch him look away from you, over the top of his car roof, and let out a deep sigh, before he looks back at you, his expression unreadable, but soft.

“Here,” Jake takes the wad of wipes you’ve been holding on to and you’re too tired and worn out emotionally to protest when he tips your face up and begins cleaning off your ruined makeup. He goes about it a lot more diligently than you’d have expected, and about five minutes later, he grabs the fistful of now filthy, makeup covered tissues, and steps briefly away to throw them in a nearby bin.

When Jake returns, he doesn’t come to stand at your side again, instead he closes it and returns to the driver's seat.

“Have you eaten yet?” He asks, like the last ten minutes hadn’t happened. You shake your head, and rest it against the window as he lets out a breath, and begins to pull out. The hand he reaches out to balance on your car seat as he checks behind him almost makes you wish you could just hug him, but you push that feeling down.

“Alright. Let’s go get you some food then, sweetheart.”

It’s not the first time Jake has ever called you ‘sweetheart’, but it’s the first time he hasn’t been teasing you when he’s said it. Your pulse jumps at the almost casual intimacy of the way he says it, like he’d said it this way a hundred times before. Like this was something you did regularly with one another.

It’s almost a blessing he doesn’t say much else for the rest of the short drive, if you’re overthinking this much already. You feel stretched thin, tired from your work week, and even more tired now that you've expended all the effort and emotional preparation in order to come out tonight only for it to end in pure disappointment. All you want to do is hide under your blankets for the rest of the weekend, and maybe drink a bottle of red wine through a curly straw while you do.

Jake seems to have other plans though, as when the car stops at last, you aren’t outside your apartment building. Before you can even open your mouth and ask him where you are, he’s at your door again, pulling it open and holding out his hand.

“Where are we?” You know you sound silly, seeing as the big neon sign flashed bright in front of you through the window.

“At a restaurant. A good one, this time.” Is as far as Jake goes to explain to you. Dumbly, you unbuckle yourself and go to hop out of the car, forgetting that he holds a hand out for you. Jake doesn’t forget though, and quickly moves to take your hand before you can balance it on the car door.

The movement makes your pulse jump again, and this time it doesn’t stop, seemingly keeping its new fast pace going. You blink rapidly up at the blind who watches you carefully, your mouth opening, working like a fish for a moment as you try to get your brain working again, but Jake gets there before you.

“Humour me,” he says sweetly, giving your fingers a slight squeeze as he does, doubling your heartbeat again, but you can’t stop yourself from nodding. When he smiles at you, you half expect it to be a familiar cheeky smirk, but it’s not.

You let Jake help you from the car, and try to get ahold of yourself as he guides you away and toward the front door. He even leads you around the grating in the sidewalk which your high heels would surely fall through, and you wonder why you’d never considered that Jake would be a good date before. At least, you’ve never considered it beyond his cocky persona. You’ve never thought about how he would open your door for you, or gently hold your hand, or make sure you didn’t have to contend with holes in the pavement.

You’re still tired, but this turn of events shocks a small amount of adrenaline into you, and you decide that you have enough energy at least for whatever Jake has planned. Or, at the very least, you don’t have the energy to fight it, but you trust him, so you choose to trust that whatever it is, he means the best.

Jake releases your hand when he reaches for the door, and you find yourself startled by the feeling of loss that overcomes you when he does. You notice then for the first time that Jake wears a simple pair of slacks and a knit polo shirt that still sits a little rumpled from where you’d grabbed him by the sleeve earlier.

Once you’ve allowed yourself to be ushered inside the restaurant, you turn back and quickly smooth out the soft material, doing your best to be impartial to the feeling of his firm bicep under your fingertips, even though you find yourself needing to pull down the fabric where it seems to stretch even tighter around his muscled arm. Normally you really only take notice of Jake’s physique when he’s purposefully using it against you, to make you tongue-tied for his amusement, but this is really the first time you’ve found yourself up-close and personal, and you’re once more surprised by the intense desire you have to be hugged by him, to press yourself up against what you know to be his incredible strong body, feel that strength wrap itself around you.

Briefly you glance up at his face, expecting an amused smirk, but all you find is another unreadable expression, though his eyes do follow your movements closely. You finish your smoothing with a small pat, and turn away again. It takes another moment for you to feel him stir back into action behind you, and you find yourself again caught up in your thoughts as he steps slightly around you, to speak to a waiter who pops out to see you seated.

You’re vaguely aware that when you’re shown to your table, Jake pulls your chair out for you, and rests his hand briefly on your shoulder as you’re settled, squeezing it gently before he steps away to his own seat.

For a while the both of you are quiet as you mull over the menu, but the more your stomach begins to grumble, the more your senses seem to come back to you properly at last, and the bitter taste of disappointment and embarrassment that has been swirling around inside your chest and head all night begins to recede. This was just Jake, and even though sometimes he confused you, you knew Jake. You know that what he’s doing right now is his own way of hugging you and telling you it’ll be okay, like Phoenix would if she were in his place.

Your shoulders, which you hadn’t even realised had been slightly raised, relax as you place down your menu and take to studying the man in front of you instead. You’re able to watch him for a good minute before he turns the page of his menu, long enough to know he wasn’t reading it at all.

“I like Italian,” you venture, though your inflection makes it sound a little like a question, one you’re not sure you have the courage yet to ask.

“I know.” Jake replies, at last dropping the laminated booklet and linking his hands together on the table in front of him. You want to challenge him, but you stop yourself, figuring that knowing what your friends liked was the least someone could do.

You soften a little then, and drop your gaze to your place setting, straightening the silverware nervously, feeling his gaze locked on to you, and you chance peeking up at him as you talk.

“You really don’t have to–” you don’t even get to finish speaking before his sharp gaze flashes, eyes narrowing and he lowers his chin. “If you want dessert you won’t finish that sentence,” his words are humorous, but his voice maintains a level of sternness that you’d heard earlier when he’d been worried. You wonder if he usually masked his concern or anxiety with hardness. You wonder if that worked for him like it worked for you. You can’t deny that his cutting through your shit to get at the real problem was helpful when you were so prone to brushing off your own comfort for the sake of others.

Jake sighs then, but doesn’t even look away from you as he picks up the carafe of water and pours you each a glass.

“I’m not letting you go home tonight with that being the last date under your belt,” he sounds more casual now, and there's an offended scoff that punctuates his words, like the idea insulted him as well as you.

“This isn’t a date, though,” you hear yourself argue, though it's more out of sheer confusion than any real protest. You regret it immediately though, as Jake’s signature smirk makes an appearance, and he unfolds his hands to fix you with pure amusement.

You almost jump right out of your skin when something warm brushes over your hand again, and you realise too late that he’s taking it in his own, leaning toward you and cocking his head as his thumb begins brushing softly across the tops of your fingers, like he knew his actions have frozen you in place.

“Sure it is,” he tells you, and that seems to be that.

It takes you a moment to reboot your brain.

“You took all my makeup off…!” you protest after a moment, letting your arm go more slack as the feeling returns to the hand he holds. Jake raises an eyebrow, lips twitching.

“Don’t need it,” he shrugs, before relenting some. “For what it’s worth, in the two seconds I saw you before you started crying, it looked nice.”

You’re forced to reconcile with the idea that Jake thought you looked nice, and attempt to work out what that means for you now.

“Oh… Thank you…” is all you’re able to say, and are immediately greeted once again with his regular smirk, though it feels a little softer around the edges now, almost tender, but you think that must be only in your imagination.

“This is when you tell me how handsome I look,” Jake prompts, and you could roll your eyes and laugh him off, but the more you think about it, the more you actually agree with him.

“You look very handsome tonight.” you say, meaning it, finally able to laugh softly when he preens obviously at the praise.

“And have I been working out?” he’s definitely teasing you now, but you don’t mind so much, because his thumb is still slowly moving in circles over your fingers, which you’ve only just realised do feel rather cold.

“You’re always working out.” you tell him, your brows furrowing just a little but only for show. Jake fixes you with an amused expression and shakes his head. His hand tightens around yours just a little.

“Not always. Sometimes I take beautiful, lovely women out on dates.” he corrects you. Your heart leaps into your throat, and you blink at him, dazed.

“Sorry to interrupt your plans, then,” you joke, but it comes out a little more self-deprecating than you really mean. Jake narrows his eyes at you again.

“Are you questioning my tastes?”

“Almost always.”

“I’ll have you know that you are both beautiful, and inarguably lovely, Cricket.”

His words make you stare dumbly at him, mouth once more working like a fish to try and figure out what it is you’re supposed to say to that. You don't realise until it's too late that you’ve said those words aloud.

Jake smiles, full and wide and not teasing at all this time.

“You say ‘thank you, baby. This is the best date I’ve ever been on’,” he almost sing-songs.

“I’m not calling you ‘baby’!” you sputter, your brain going into overdrive at the thought of Jake calling you baby.

“Not yet you aren’t,” Jake blinks slowly at you, but he doesn’t back down from the statement, staring at you until you’re the one forced to look away, and he speaks again. “But I can be patient. I’ve been patient.”

You find yourself transfixed by what he could possibly mean by the fact that he’s been patient, but you don’t get the opportunity to ask, because your waiter returns and watch enamoured as Jake orders for you, not really that surprised that he knows what you want, but surprised that you’re so quickly becoming normalised to this behaviour from him.

Oddly, as dinner goes on, you almost forget that it’s Jake you’re with. He seems softer, gentler in a way that you hadn’t been aware existed within him, but in a way that you aren’t sure how you’re going to live without once he drops you home again and the spell is broken. In your minds eye, you realise that day to day you’ve seen glimpses of this Jake, when he’d wordlessly begun offering you a hand when you’d climb up to your jet around a year ago now, or how he’d normally complain about the amount of time everybody else took with their shots at darts, but sometimes when it was just the two of you he simply waits quietly for you to line yourself up properly, even occasionally giving you an ego-free pointer that always helped.

You wonder how often other people saw this side of Jake, and if you might be able to convince you into showing you more. For once his perpetual amusement and teasing seems to be at bay, and you’d like to think that this is the way he is in the quiet times, in the morning before his coffee, or in the grocery store. You can picture him in these times, but more importantly you want to see him in these times, more than you might have thought you would, more than out of simple curiosity.

His fingers lacing with yours after your plates are cleared makes you think once more of his talk of patience, and you wonder briefly if he wanted you to see him like this too.

“Absolutely not,” Jake quickly cuts in when you both stand by back near the entrance, reviewing the bill. The card you hold out, and the hand it’s in are engulfed suddenly by his much larger one, and even as the waiter smiles between the two of you, Jake doesn’t let you escape his grasp, holding you firmly in place as he hands his own card over.

“Jake!” you grumble, trying to pull your fist out of his, but he simply tightens his hold and gives the waiter a look like ‘can you believe this woman’.

“I’m so sorry about her, she hasn’t been taken out properly in a while, she’s forgotten all about how dates are supposed to work,” Jake tells the waiter conspiratorially, voice thick with faux-sympathy, like your cause was truly tragic. Your protests are fully silenced however, when he shoots you a pitying look, and brings your enclosed fist to his lips, kissing it softly like you were a sick puppy or something of the like.

You know he’s aware of the effect he has on you, it was why he teased you so much, but for the first time ever, you think he’s actually using it properly against you to get his way, and unfortunately, you aren’t even able to summon much annoyance about it. Quite the opposite in fact, his display makes your argument fall quiet and your heart skip several beats as he kisses your fingers tenderly again, before offering it back to you at last.

Quietly, you put your card away and bite your lip as he finishes paying.

—

“Jake,” you begin slowly, having taken most of the car ride so far to gather your thoughts together.

“Cricket,” Jake matches your tone and cadence, while shooting you an amused smile.

“Why did you hold my hand?” you try your best to ignore him, and shift slightly in your seat. Jake seems to shift too, but he only glances briefly over at you this time.

“Do you mean ‘why am I still holding your hand?’?” he squeezes your aforementioned hand, still in his grip and laying on the centre console. When he shoots you another amused grin, he’s met only with your pursed lips. Placing his gaze back toward the road, he rolls his eyes a little.

“Because I want to? I don’t know, feels kinda nice, don’t ya think?” Jake clears his throat a little, before a frown begins forming between his eyebrows and he seems to lurch. “Unless it doesn’t, in which case–” he begins to loosen his grip on you, but before you can think too much about what you’re doing, you tighten your own fingers laced through his, and give him an even more unimpressed look.

“So it does feel nice, note taken.”

You sit in silence for a few more minutes, in which time Jake begins slowly stroking his thumb across the back of your hand. When you do finally pull up to your apartment block, you feel the need to say something, but you don’t know what, so you keep quiet as Jake puts his car into park.

“Wait here,” he tells you and before you can really respond, he’s jumping out of the car and loping around to your side, opening the door with a gallant smile.

“You know, you’re a pretty good date, Jake,” you say softly, letting him take your hand once again and help you out of the car. Jake beams at you in an almost boyish manner that makes you want to squish his cheeks, but you refrain.

“Why thank you,” he says proudly, making you smile too.

You stand and stare at one another for a moment once you’re settled on your heels, and Jake cocks his head at you, before offering out his hand for you. Biting your lip slightly, you can’t help but look at your feet as you reach out and take the offered hand, feeling your chest go all warm again when he adjusts his hold to be more firm, and you both begin walking again.

Jake lets you take more of a lead, even though you know he knows where you live, considering he had been one of the friends you’d enlisted to help you move out of your old place. You can’t help but wonder if all this hand-holding was going to affect your friendship now, or what it even meant for your friendship. Your mind goes back to what Jake had said about patience at dinner, and what that meant.

Biting your lip again, you come to a stop in front of your apartment door, taking your hand back reluctantly so that you can pull your key from your purse and unlock your door.

“You aren’t going to cry again once I’m gone, are you?” Jake suddenly asks, making you blink back at him. He shoves both hands in his pockets and purses his lips. “Can’t be having that, now can we?” he says as if that explained his concern.

“No… No, I feel a lot better now,” you tell him, and you really do mean it. “Thank you for dinner.”

Jake stares at you, like he often does when he’s trying to make someone crack. Usually it worked pretty well on you, but you have nothing to crack over right now, so you simply stare back at him and shrug.

“I’m glad you feel better, Cricket. I don’t like seeing you upset.” Jake tells you, and even though his expression is humorous, his voice is stern and sincere, and it makes your stomach twist and turn violently in a way you’ve felt it attempt to do several times recently, but you’ve never let yourself linger on. It's as though all at once you can’t stop it, and an explosion of butterflies takes the place of all your internal organs.

“What was that?” Jake murmurs, and you blink at the step he takes forward, his brow furrowed in concern. You realise you’ve spoken the question that’s been on your mind out loud, and you swallow thickly as you try to gather yourself again.

“I… Earlier, you said you’ve been patient… what did that mean?” you ask, chewing the inside of your lip, wondering if you even want this question answered in the first place.

Jake cocks his head at you, and you can’t help but take note of how his lips quirk in the corners, like he thought it was adorable that you even had to ask.

“It means,” Jake begins, stepping even closer, and resting his arm on the wall above your head. “That about a year ago, I realised that I wanted to kiss you, and a year later, I still do.”

You stare up at him, and try to refrain from moving too much, as if he might disappear if you did.

“But only if you want me to,” he adds after a moment, beginning to peel back from you. Once more you don’t think too hard about what your body does, and you realise too late that your hand has shot out to rest against his chest, smoothing over his collar. Jake stops in his retreat and fixes you in his gaze again, even as your mouth opens and closes silently. You frown at your own inability to talk, and feel a pit begin to open in your stomach, sucking up the butterflies let loose there.

Jake frowns down at you, as if he can read your thoughts, and gently covers your hand with his own.

“Do you want me to?” he asks softly, and you’re glad he doesn’t make you say it, you aren’t sure you’re ready to ask yet, but you think he might understand this about you.

You nod at him and hold your breath as he seems to cock his head again. Briefly you see him smile, full and warm, but quickly you’re gasping softly as he kisses you.

Kissing Jake has been something you’ve refused to let yourself think about, repressing the thought so much that you’re truly surprised by how good he is at it. It makes sense, you think, that Jake would be a great kisser, and you’re fairly certain that you’ve never ever been kissed like this before, either. If this was what you’d been missing out on for a year, you feel foolish and idiot, because right now you vow that you will let Jake kiss you whenever he wants, wherever he wants from now on.

When at last he pulls away, you relish in the way his hand cups your cheek, thumb swiping back and forth tenderly.

“I don’t know about you, Cricket,” he says, making your chest flutter when he nuzzles at your nose sweetly. “But I think that feels kinda nice too, don’t you think?” he places another, much chaster kiss to your lips, and you can’t help but let out a soft laugh.

“Yes, Jake. I think it feels nice, too.”

@starlightstories @fox-bee926 @startrekfangirl2233 @izzyomfg @shanimallina87 @phoenix1388 @t-nd-rfoot @sehnsuchts-trunken @dagger-wren @bradshawsbitch @penwieldingdreamer @roleycoleyland @ussgallifrey just tagging some possibly interested folks!!!!

#jake 'hangman' seresin fanfic #jake seresin x reader #jake 'hangman' seresin x reader #jake 'hangman' seresin #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #top gun hangman

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amphibious-thing · 11 months

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So clearly unpopular opinion but personally I actually found the way OFMD doesn't directly address homophobia to be sort of lacking at points. It would be one thing if the show was a set in a world where homophobia just ~doesn't exist~ but homophobia is an implicit force throughout the entirety of the show. This is not to say that I think the show should wallow in homophobia or depict a homophobic attack in a graphic detail. BUT the way the show just doesn't directly deal with Stede's sexuality leaves so many unanswered questions as to Stede's internal sense of self as well as the motivations behind some of his decisions.

In particular a question that hangs over the show is why did Stede leave his family? It's the prevailing question of the show, that we as the viewer slowly discover throughout the course of the season. And while I don't think Stede's sexuality is the only reason he left it feels like it was probably at least a factor in why he left.

So you have this show about an effeminate gay man. Who is bullied his whole life for being effeminate. Is forced into marrying a women because that's his role in society. Who is miserable trying to fit into this ridged box. So he runs away and forms a found family with other people who also do not fit in. He falls in love with a man. Is guilt tripped back into trying to fit back in that box society deems acceptable. Only to realise he still doesn't fit and to run again, but this time he's not running away, this time he's running to the man who he loves.

And then you tell me that the fact that the main character is gay is incidental to the story?

Like the show is textually queer. It textually acknowledges heteronormativity. It textually acknowledges toxic masculinity and the negative effect that has on Stede. But it only subtextually deals with the effect that homophobia and heteronormativity have on Stede's life.

Like I can't stress enough that I just have no idea what Stede thinks about his own queerness. Does Stede know he's gay before he leaves Mary? Is this the reason he leaves Mary? Is it just one of the reasons he leaves Mary? Did it have no bearing whatsoever on his decision to leave Mary? How does he feel about his sexuality? Is he taken aback by Calico Jack's comment about buggery because he has internalised shame about his sexual desires? Or simply because it caught him off guard? Or just because he's awkward about sex and that has nothing inherently to do with his queerness?

#like I like the show but this felt like a gap in the show for me personally ymmv #our flag means death #not history #historical fiction

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kaladinkholins · 4 months

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BRB thinking thoughts about Taigen's character, the TaiMizu ship, and a big chunk of fandom's perceptions regarding both those things.

(Inspired by @farintonorth's post related to this topic that just got my brain going brrrrr)

OK so let me just... start off by saying that I think that reducing stories to their tropes is seriously detrimental to the way some people are interacting with fiction, and while that honestly warrants its own post about the subject, I wanna talk specifically about how this affects the way some people in the fandom talk about Taigen and TaiMizu.

Because yeah, tropes are useful shorthand to refer to certain dynamics or archetypes etc, and they are indeed the building blocks to any story. But in a well-written story, characters and their relationships, actions, and motivations, are much more complex than just tropes. Because in a story that has characters who are more than just cardboard cutouts, their behaviours, backgrounds, motivations and all of that, are inseparable from the context of the overall story they exist in.

So like, sure, you can say Mizu and Taigen have an enemies-to-lovers or rivals-to-lovers dynamic. I also use those terms because it's easier. But I also think this is where things start to get a bit twisted, especially from an intertextual sense. Because "enemies-to-lovers" is also commonly used to refer to other ships in other media, whereby it tends to be rooted in an imbalanced power dynamic, such as oppressor-oppressed and bully-victim.

And while that's a whole can of worms that I won't be getting into because it can quickly derail into a whole separate sort of fandom discourse, I'd just like to make it clear that Mizu and Taigen, in particular, do not have an imbalanced power dynamic. They are not bully-victim or oppressor-oppressed. The only understandable reason why someone might actually think their relationship is imbalanced is if

A) they only watched the first episode, or

B) they cannot grasp the slightest bit of nuance in a character, or

C) they're being obtuse on purpose simply because the Mizu/Taigen relationship, or Taigen's character in general, just doesn't suit their tastes.

While yes, Taigen, along with his whole gang, had bullied Mizu when they were children, that dynamic does not exist between them whatsoever in adulthood. Whatever imbalanced bully-victim power dynamic that had once existed between them was decisively ripped apart the moment Mizu beat him in that duel in the dojo, and then completely obliterated by the end of the season.

Mizu is not a defenseless victim at Taigen's mercy. Mizu can beat Taigen's ass any time she wants (and she DOES, repeatedly in fact), and could even kill him if she felt like it. She taunts him openly and without fear ("I like your hair"; "I can beat you with any weapon you choose") and all he does is bark back, because that's pretty much all Taigen ever does. Time and time again, he yaps about how much he wants to kill her, but time and time again, his actions prove that all of it is just an empty threat. Because though his words say "I hate you", his actions demonstrate the complete opposite. He's shown how protective he is of Mizu, how unhesitatingly he sacrifices himself up for her, how loyal he is in enduring days-long torture to not give up information about her, how even when near-death and in pain, he's still willing to keep standing back up so he can fight by her side and help her win against her enemies.

And Mizu is not an idiot! She sees that too. She does not see him as a threat, an enemy, or even a bully. Especially not by the end of Episode 3, and definitely not by the end of the season. When she finds him in the dungeon in Episode 6, she smiles from relief, and doesn't think twice to take him with her. Mizu finds him, at best, an annoyance, or at worst, an infuriating hindrance on her quest for vengeance. Which is why, when Taigen is about to say, "It's a shame our duel's set for tomorrow; I have to kill you before you get your revenge," Mizu whacks him on the head without a second thought before he can even finish his sentence, and leaves him lying unconscious, face-down, in the snow.

And this further emphasises how he does not hold any power over her. There is no abusive power dynamic between them. She is more powerful than him, he knows this, and all he's ever done after they've met up again in adulthood is get his ass whooped by her, get mad about it and pester her and follow her around, get his ass whooped by her some more, and put his life on the line to protect her.

"OOoooOOoooH b-but he called her a demon at the end of Episode 7 and threatened to kill her again!!!" Oh my god. He called her that because he's calling her out on her selfishness to stay silent about her knowledge of Fowler's plans to attack Edo. Because to him, loyalty and honour as a samurai is more important than anything. So in his own brash-and-immature Taigen way, he felt betrayed that Mizu did not hold the same principles. That's why he got angry. He wasn't even that mad about letting Akemi get dragged off by the Tokunobu guards. It was about saving the Shogun and the Shogunate as a whole. That's why the first thing he does in Edo is not find Akemi, but try to warn the Shogun about Fowler's attack.

Look, I'm not defending his stupid ass, of course. Because calling her a demon especially after their cute little wrestling time was obviously rude and inappropriate, especially since words like "demon", "monster" and "Onryo" have had such a deep effect on Mizu throughout her life, and continue to contribute to her self-hatred. But like? That's the fun of realistic and flawed characters, and realistic and flawed relationships. They're not perfect, and it's why we as an audience root for them, wanting to see them work through their shit and find a way to prevail despite it all.

Also, him saying that was in the heat of the moment. He was angry, he felt like his initial belief of who Mizu was—a strong and loyal samurai, just like him—was shattered, and so he lashed out. Was it rude? Definitely. Was it immature of him? Yes, incredibly. But it's also very much in line with his character, because even though he's grown a lot over the course of the season, the show isn't over yet, so obviously his character arc is just beginning, as that is also the case for the other three main characters: Mizu is beginning to accept herself, Akemi is beginning to grow into her position of power, Ringo beginning to train under Master Eiji, while Taigen is beginning to simply be a better person.

On that note, when speaking of Taigen's immaturity, I think that's also one of the main things that people tend to gloss over when it comes to his character. Because when you boil everything down to its bare essentials, Taigen is, essentially, a boy. I've talked about this before, but to reiterate, Taigen very much behaves like an unhealed child. Even as an adult, he is insecure, prone to throwing tantrums, and is desperate to latch onto some material goal in hopes that it will make him feel better—initially he was chasing status/glory/greatness, and then when Mizu tells him that "Nothing comes from being a samurai but death," he immediately decides he wants to run away with Akemi in hopes that he will be happy.

And it's a big step, acknowledging that he doesn't truly want greatness, but had always just assumed it was his only path to a good life. But it's clear he still hasn't really figured it out. Because if he did run off with Akemi to get married and live in the countryside, he still wouldn't be happy. Because he still doesn't know who he really is, or what it is he really wants. Marriage at this moment is the last thing he needs, and as he is now, he would be a pretty awful husband. A simple life would be good for him, but would he be good at a simple life, when he still has so much he needs to work through?

So anyway, what I'm getting at here, is that he's trying and he is learning and growing. So yeah, he is flawed, but honestly? So is Mizu. And the funny thing is that they're flawed in very similar ways.

Because Mizu is also an unhealed child. That's why she's so angry all the time. That's why she pushes people away. That's why she, just like Taigen, is so happy when given the chance to playfully wrestle in the forge, laughing and rolling around like children without shame or pretense.

Again, this shows there is no imbalance between them. They had grown up together as peers from the same town. And while Taigen had had the upper hand back then, because he'd had a gang of other kids with him, that is definitely not the case anymore. Today, they are equally flawed, equally strong, equally skilled swordsmen, and equally bull-headed.

However, yes, Mizu is definitely leagues more mature than Taigen. But she still holds a lot of childhood wounds that mirror Taigen's own. And we see this especially in relation to her mother. Similar to Taigen who had an abusive and alcoholic father, Mizu's Mama was an opium addict and had hit her, berated her, had shaved her head without her consent as a child, and as an adult, had constantly emotionally manipulated and guilt-tripped her. Mizu's love for her Mama was what had driven her to a path of vengeance in the very beginning. And when she'd found out Mama was still alive, she had wanted nothing more than her Mama's love, and it was this alone that pushed her to agree to the marriage with Mikio in the first place. And now, knowing from Fowler that her birth mother is someone else entirely, is what makes her agree to keep him alive and haul his ass to London to seek answers.

Thus, integral to Mizu's self-hatred is also Mizu's intense longing for love and family. Just like Taigen, whose pompousness comes from his insecurity about being the son of a poor fisherman, Mizu's goals are also shaped by who her parents are. Remember, her vengeance is not against just anyone who's corrupt or evil, but specifically against the men who she believes had assaulted her mother, the men she believes had made her a monster, the men she believes had abandoned her to die and continue to try to kill her. Her vengeance is against a father, on behalf of a mother. In The Tale of the Ronin and the Bride, Mizu is not merely the Ronin, the Bride, or the Onryo, but also the Child.

This is also why Ringo is so good, not only for Mizu, but for Taigen as well. Ringo is wise and caring and considerate, but above all, he is in tune with his inner child in ways that Mizu and Taigen are not. He is always earnest and positive, he sees the world with childlike wonder, but is not naive or blind to its ugliness. His whole life has been a battle. Ringo brings out the best in Mizu, consistently acting as her moral compass and conscience, and Mizu's choice to save Akemi in the final episode is only because she promised Ringo that she would. Because it's the right thing to do. Ringo inspires her to be a better person, and to think outside of her narrow-minded goal of revenge. At the same time, Ringo also brings out the best in Taigen. While at first Taigen had looked down on both Mizu and Ringo ("Half-limb to a half-wit"), by the end of the season, he's proud to have Ringo as a friend and ally, he listens to Ringo's advice ("What would Master do?"), and asserts to the fucking Shogun that Ringo is a worthy warrior to have by his side.

Okay, I've gone on a bit of a tangent here, but my main point is that Mizu and Taigen are incredibly similar. They are equals. They are both flawed, unhealed children who are chasing some impossible outlandish goal in hopes that it will fill the void in their hearts. They also both have a long way to go in terms of character development if they were to ever build a healthy romantic relationship (either with each other, or even with anyone else). So while I believe things will be rocky (because duh, it's a story, we all live for the drama, etc), I think with Ringo's help, they'll get there eventually.

#blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai meta #mizu x taigen #taigen x mizu #taimizu #taigen blue eye samurai #mizu blue eye samurai #meta dissertations.pdf #im not a taigen defender. but i AM a taimizu truther #wank.mp3 #sorta #fandom.rtf #shut up haydar #like i KNOW we all love mizu and want her for ourselves but cmon. let's be real here for a second.#ahem. hear ye! put down the delulu for a mere moment!#and ask thyself. why am i beefing with this pathetic bald man? a man who is the definition of a wet rat?#thus. my brother in nerd ass shit. i beg thee put down thy weapon. this man is not worth beefing with! he is literally... just some guy.#yes...he is bitchy. however! he is also a loser obsessed with mizu. remember this. he is not thine enemy. but simply...one of us.#also lmao like jokes aside lemme be clear. you ARE ALLOWED to hate taigen and taimizu all you like!!!! feel free to do so!!!!#but please just acknowledge it's like. a preference thing. like it's just not your cup of tea! thats A-OK!#but please dont insist that the ship is toxic unhealthy abusive etc #but if you still feel the need to do so. then for the love of god just tag your posts as anti-[insert whatever here] so it helps ppl mute #i knew how to tag shit as anti-makorra since i was fourteen! 😭 like it's basic courtesy cmon

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nburkhardt · 1 year

Text

Other Parts: One, Two, Three, Four.

(Small trigger warning for overdose, not completely accurate I don’t think but still gonna warn) NOW, onto the fic! ~

The Plan? That’s fucking boring

Eddie Munson’s Way of Making the Sun Shine Brighter?

The End of Michael Wheeler?

Eddie’s Totally Put Together Plan? What a stupid fucking stupid title!!

(Title is still a work in progress)

Self reminder: do not in any way, say the word ‘asshole’ within hearing range of Steve. ALSO do not use any references to royalty or anything relating to being dumb.

Step 1:

Find out the reason why Michael Wheeler decided to be a total dickwad and call Steve an asshole. Yelling really comes out if it’s a dumb fucking reason.

Step 2:

Let the brats know that they are to stay away from Steve for at least a week to think about why he reacted the way he did. Don’t mention the breakdown, only say what is necessary.

Let Steve know about this part (double underlined)

Step 3:

Corner Dustin Henderson and Robin Buckley separately. Find out why they weren’t too concerned for their supposed best friend.

Hint to them what’s going on?

Step 4: most important

Comfort Steve !!!! Make sure he knows you’re in this for the long haul. Make it known you are not leaving him.

Help him open up a tiny bit more. Do not overwhelm him!!

Step 5: necessary for step 4

Hand holding, nicknames and reminders. Maybe cuddles ONLY if he’s up to it!!

Step 6: Step 2.0: (written over with a line harshly up the page connecting to step 2)

Shut up anyone who even dares to say The Word to Steve. Teach self to not say it anymore. Give a crash course to everyone in Hellfire that they were unknowingly being bullies. This step be after step 1? Maybe step 2?

Eddie glanced at his notebook and smiled. All morning he’s been writing out this plan. It wasn’t settling in his head whatsoever with his overactive hyper way of thinking, it was never going to come together.

He woke up only after a few hours of actual sleeping, he tossed and turned with images of a heartbroken Steve flashing in his dreams. At one point he jolted awake when a particular flash included Steve just silent and emotionless, like he wasn’t there anymore but he was breathing and that was absolutely terrifying.

Eddie has seen something similar like that look before and it wasn’t pretty either��.

—

A recently turned twelve year old Eddie is frozen in the doorway. His face is pale, near white as he stared at his mom.

Charlotte Munson is slumped on the couch, nearly no emotion on her face. Her eyes glazed over, only half way open. Her mouth is parted in a dazed smile, the usual warmth in her face is completely and utterly gone.

Her hand is clutching a tiny bottle and there’s a bottle of vodka on the table.

Even in his frozen state, it doesn’t take long for him to figure out what is happening. Her chest is slow, he can tell she’s breathing. Only just enough but the glaze in her eyes isn’t clearing up; her eyes are actually slipping shut more.

He doesn’t know how long he stands there, doesn’t know how long she’s been there either.

Eventually, someone knocks and breaks the spell.

He’s told later on that she overdosed, but he already figured that out. He watched it happen. Two weeks later he’s shipped off to Uncle Wayne’s, promised to be cared for and he makes a silent vow to never take too much or to mix anything, ever.

—

Shaking his head out of the memory, he looks at the paper again before jumping out of bed to get dressed.

He doesn’t understand or know why his brain decided to be so fucked up and marge the images of his mom and Steve together, but he was jolted awake by it and has stayed awake since.

Now that his plan is laid out on paper for him to visibly see, he feels more confident in this. Before all his head could come up with was ‘Protect Steve’ flashing around as if it was a neon sign.

Grinning to himself, he grabs his notebook and his pencil plus a highlighter. Erasing the crossed out titles before writing down:

Sunshine Protection Squad (he also drew a tiny sun next to it)

It’s not exactly a good title for what this is, but it’s actually the perfect title. Simply because it’s what he is now. He is Steve’s protector and hopefully, for as long as possible. He’ll wear it with pride and scream it from the rooftops if Steve would like that, maybe get a tattoo imagery of it; he’ll remember to ask before doing such.

Steve has always been the protector and never the one being protected. It’ll be a change for him and Eddie knows this, but he’s ready for the challenge to prove it.

To prove that Steve is worth protecting. Even if it’s against his own friends.

I'm going to end it there, i think the stopping point is pretty good. Plus it means I can switch either back to Steve or get into the party. I had a blast coming up with the writing of Eddie's plan. It would be even better if tumblr allowed underlining in the text. (wrote most of this in my notes app and it looks so dumb and perfect lmao) btw if anyone has any tips on how to write any of the party members please send them my way!

taglist: @zerokrox-blog, @piningapple, @i-wanna-combust, @stevecarrington, @henderdads, @fiore-della-valle, @eddiemunsonswife, @mixsethaddams, @momotonescreaming, @ajamlessbaby, @novelnovella, @flustratedcas, @thelastwalkingsoul, @hellfire1986baby, @manda-panda-monium, @xo-blairej, @freyaforestafay, @princessstevemunson, @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring, @sapphirecobalt-1, @stevesworldxx, @jonathanbyersbbg, @fromapayphone, @anzelsilver, @adaed5, @koyislosinghismind, @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit, @bornonthesavage, @seths-rogens, @xwildangel, @mightbeasleep, @y0urnewstepp4r3nt,

@saphhicwitchbitch, @m-chmcl-rmnc, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @steddieassheg0es, @didntwant2come, @itsfreakingbats, @stranger-poets-society,

#steddie fic #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #stranger things fic #stranger things #eddie munson fic #steve harrington fic #desperate prayers of a cursed man fic #nburkhardt writes #we're getting somewhere #i'll be honest writing the plan was a lot of fun #also sorry for the surprise backstory for eddie lmao #that legit wrote itself tbh #came outta nowhere #angst #angst fic #btw i'm sorry if the parts are small... idk what it is i can get anything longer

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tartsinarat · 8 days

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Ngl was thinking about this whilst drawing some toh au stuff while watching doctor who in the background but I really feel like Pip would really be into the toh version of doctor who.

no idea what it would be called tho in the owl house but Pip’s into it for obvious reasons of sci-fi but also occasionally randomly fantasy?? show, which has chaotic mess of lore that makes no sense whatsoever (I say this with extreme love tho) and has a main character who’s a mad genius and criminal who stole a time machine and ran away to explore the universe and time which I feel meshes very well into what Pip would enjoy

Like I don’t see him enjoying space frontier as it’s pretty much Star Trek and that show has an really optimistic grand view of the future, it focus mostly on the good of people as a whole and that anything can be achieved if people work together and put their minds to it, I can see why Hunter and Gus would enjoy it which I find really sweet and adorable

On the other hand Doctor who has a very complex but pessimistic view on people/the universe, it mainly focuses on the crazy situations that a lonely alien on who’s constantly running away but desperately trying their best at all times to either atone for what they did in the past or to help people across time and space which I think Pip would find more interesting and relatable.

He’d also probably think that all the historical stuff in doctor who is real and that Britain is just constantly getting invaded by aliens.

Funniest thing though about him discovering Doctor who is Pip finally learning what a British person is, and that he’s got a British accent himself as I’m pretty sure there’s literally no one on the boiling isles other than Belos and Pip have that accent so he wondered where it’s from.

Pip also enjoys this show even more because time travel is a concept in toh, soooooooo the guy is just itching to figure out how to make a real Tardis, the only thing stoping him is that he’s in the human realm and in the demon realm the titan themselves was like “nope not even risking it” and decided to never allow him to be able to find a time pool again (he was apart of the events of elsewhere and elsewhen along side Luz and Lilith… it was awkward between him and Philip to say the least but it was more on Pips part because he was like” holy shit is he an older me?? Or my great great- something?? grandad what is going on???” So he didn’t know how to react to that and neither did Luz who was like yep they’re related, and Philip was like “what a strange hooded kid, I didn’t know that demons could mimic accents and appearances so well, I should be stay wary of that abomination and slay it when I have the time”. Oh yeah Pip does almost get killed but Lilith springs into action and does the badass punch to stop Philip. Ngl I’ll have to draw this as a comic at some point because it’s interesting to imagine/draw)

As well I had some ideas of him in thanks to them dressed up in a nerdy doctor cosplay which I found fun but idk if that’ll end up being what I draw him as for his Halloween costume, all three were picked because they all had similar Pip personality wise and I feel like he would relate most to these three in particular;

Like Pip, 10 is pretty much a wild card personality wise depending on the situation he can either be a sad destructive arrogant bastard with a slight god complex who takes matters into his own hands because he believes that he’ll make the right decision without thinking about the consequences or be a lonely silly guy who rambles a lot and is always running around and just wants to have fun.

1 is a grumpy trickster that has strong opinions about right and wrong, he also appears rude or uncaring but actually cares a lot and is the guy who ran away and stole a fucking time machine. He and 14 (14 is basically a mature 10 but I was tempted to go with him instead of 10 but he doesn’t have the ego problem so 10 it was lmao) fought a god like being that’s from another dimension thats obsessed with playing games.

4 is a bit of an odd ball though, he’s the weirdest doctor out of the bunch. He’s pretty silly, but at times he’s shifts into being quite callous and broody but still has a heart of gold. As well as 4 seems to struggle a lot in acting human as he’s pretty distant, aloof and alien at points, he even emphasises a lot throughout his run how he’s not human. Which I feel Pip would find extremely relatable as well as enjoying 4’s adventurist spirit and his extreme hatred of authority.

I think 4 is Pips favourite so he’d most likely cosplay as him during thanks to them.

Omg almost completely forgot to mention but I didn’t add his scar on purpose, he’s used illusion magic to remove it to make the cosplay more accurate and because his curse at that point is showing more physically on his body at this point in season 3 (he goopy 😔) and I can imagine it’s hard to explain to people in public why you a rotting infected looking green scar across your face and an even worse looking arm that’s weirdly proportioned to your body.

#the owl house #toh #original character #toh au #art #golden heir au #the owl house au #oc #owl house au #oc stuff #i got too silly #no idea if I should tag this as being doctor who related #it’s kinda embarrassing but ig cringe is dead #sorry to my followers who aren’t into doctor who #and also aren’t insane about dw #philip wittebane

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buryyourdoves · 2 years

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Writing Jewish Characters (what not to do, according to one jewish gal on discord) (a probably incomplete list):

(For reference, because I say it a few times: goyische = not Jewish, or relating to non-Jewish things/culture/etc)

Preface:

Many of these are things that some Jews do irl for various personal reasons, and that is 1000% valid and fine!! This is in no way dragging any Jew’s life choices whatsoever. When it comes to representation, there is a huge skew in one direction: the Jew-ish, bacon cheeseburger-loving, Xmas-celebrating, modern Jew whose nagging, kvetching Jewish family comes up for a special holiday or life event episode and is never heard from again. The implication is that Jewish traditions don’t fit modern people/society and that a non-Jewish audience can’t connect with a Jewish character who remains close to their cultural roots. All that to say, this piece is all about representation, not necessarily irl accuracy.

Primer:

Jewish characters don’t have to be “religious,” and definitely not in the way you might conceive of a religious Xtian character. But being an irreligious Jew doesn't inherently mean they won't follow any Jewish rituals or holidays. It’s a culture as much as it is a religion, and there are a million reasons an atheist Jew (not an oxymoron!) might follow any of these rituals/rules, including but not limited to cultural heritage, community, and religious family/friends <3

Eating treif (aka never-kosher food like pork and shellfish):

They don’t have to keep kosher (altho that would be a very welcome change just one (1) time ksdjg), just don’t make them actively not kosher. I know it feels super innocuous to talk about Erik Lensherr grabbing a bacon egg and cheese from the bodega, but it sticks out to me every time because it is, in itself, a statement. If that's a statement you want to be making, think about why. What are you trying to add to this Jewish character by giving him bacon, or shrimp, or a cheeseburger, etc etc. And is it something you think is a positive addition, or is the implication just that not eating bacon is silly, or outdated, or only something super duper religious Jews could ever want to do? If so, maybe skip the shrimp. It’s a tiny thing that can really make a big difference.

True bonus points: actively have the character keep a semblance of kosher. A simple, 2-second choice for a character to turn down a bite of their coworker’s pork fried rice because they’re Jewish feels SO NICE to read in an ocean of Jewish characters eating treif.

A lot of media codes Jewish characters by drawing attention to the fact that they’re eating bacon, even though they “shouldn’t.” Very little media codes Jews by having them leave the cheese off their burger.

(And if you do write them eating non-kosher, a friendly reminder that Jews who don’t keep kosher don’t think about how disappointed their mother would be everytime they bite into a piece of bacon. They just eat it lol.)

Interfaith parents/“half-Jews”:

I feel it necessary to reassure with this one in particular that there is nothing wrong with this, and both matrilineal and patrilineal Jews deserve representation. This is common enough irl and if they identify with the Jewish side of their heritage to consider themselves Jewish, that’s great! Variety is the spice of life. Once again, I want to emphasize that I am not making any judgments on irl Jews in any of these complaints.

This is only up for representation discussion because this feels like another trend in media and fandom, where it seems like one parent is Certified Not Jewish™️ almost as an excuse to…have Jewish characters not have to be Jewish except in name. Interfaith families are almost always shown mainly celebrating Xtian holidays, with a tiny nod to Judaism: agiant Xmas tree with a menorah to the side, or an Easter episode with a throwaway mention of Passover (if anything). Mainstream media especially will do either this, or have both parents be Jewish and the main character be such a ~disappointment~ to their parents for being less so, and of course falling into lots of icky stereotypes along the way.

Basically just, don’t not write interfaith characters, but be careful with them. Please don’t use interfaith characters as your reason excuse to let them do the Goyische Stuff, like celebrating Xmas. And speaking of…

Christmas (derogatory):

My opinion on Jewish characters celebrating Xmas, my prayer hands and shameless begging, is just…please don’t do it. I get it, plenty of irl Jews participate in Xmas activities or even celebrate it with their friends and extended families, that’s fine, absolutely no judgment. But without getting into the whole shebang of christian hegemony and the myth of secular Christmas, that’s already EVERYWHERE. Almost every tv show, every movie that has Xmas in it, if there’s a Jewish character, there’s a solid 98% chance they celebrate Xmas too. Maybe even LOVE it. Maybe there’s even a confused goyische friend going, “aren’t you Jewish?” and the Xmas-loving Jew happily informs them why that doesn’t matter, or how actually only their dad is Jewish (and he loves Xmas too so woo!) so they get to do the whole Xmas shebang and maybe have a lil menorah off to the side for the token representation.

Jews who participate in or celebrate Xmas exist, but this is a reminder that those who don’t also exist, and they are not remotely uncommon. And we don’t feel deprived for not having had Xmas, I promise. Go against the grain! For lols you can even have your Jewish character be half clueless about Xmas traditions because he never had them! Ben Grimm who has no idea what a garland is and at this point he’s too afraid to ask. There’s so much you can do with it and have fun with in a way that still keeps your Jewish blorbo unassimilated <3

There Was Only One Jew:

Most content has one (1) Jew and that’s that. It’s almost like there’s a rule that there can only be one (1) Jew per friend group. If you have more than one Jewish character, then slay! More Jews are always welcome, and the more you have, the more leeway there is, imo. It feels less egregious for, e.g., a Jewish character to loooooove shrimp if you’ve got another in the story who’s never touched it in his life and never plans to. (Although, when deciding which characters to do this with, consider making the more observant one your main, instead of relegating them to the background and/or parental characters.)

In Summary…

Thanks for reading!! There’s no one way to write Jewish characters, but I hope this helped give you something to think about! I’m always happy to answer questions if you want to learn more. You can also check out the Jewish and Judaism tags on the Writing With Color blog if you want to hear opinions from other Jews. (Not affiliated, just love their blog, haha!) These are just my thoughts on these things after reading a lot of Jewish characters (canon or headcanoned) in fic. 😊

B’hatzlacha! <3

#writing tips #jewish representation #writing jewish characters #jumblr #judaism #writblr #writing #representation #writing resource #jewish characters

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soullessjack · 10 days

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ok so carried on from this post theres a specific tag i wanna elaborate on which says ‘[jack] isn’t a pacifist he actually has a very complicated relationship with violence’ in relation to how he’s usually (mis)characterized by the fandom.

so first, Jack isn’t a pacifist. pacifism is a total opposition to all war and violence, and a belief that it is never justifiable for any reason or circumstance. He might be averse to violence as a first response or reaction, and he’s frequently shown to want to help the person before anything else—especially people he finds sympathetic or similar to himself (ie Mia Vallens, Sylvia)—but he’s not averse to it altogether.

Jack seems to really only be against violence when it’s used against innocent or undeserving people, including himself. Like in S13, he has no problem using his power to force an angel to stab themself with their blade or going to war with Michael and killing thousands of angels in his army for roughly 6-8 months (and we must remember, it was an effective genocide before he decided, completely out of the original plan, to kill Michael and made it a war) but he still has a total meltdown over accidentally killing an innocent security guard and almost strangling someone who did nothing wrong like he’d assumed. In Ouroboros he states that anyone who could hurt/kill an innocent person is a monster, even if they’re human, which is probably the clearest establishment of his moral code the show could offer.

I think Jack’s particular aversion to violence or even general aggression/anger is also caused by the fact that he, at three days old, was told by Sam that he would need to be kept from hurting other people while his powers were still largely uncontrollable (and therefore, still making him a threat and “evil” if he couldn’t do that). He’s also seen for himself what his power/his overreaction inadvertently causes for other people–like throwing Sheriff Barker into the vending machine (which he apologizes for later)—and is blatantly scared of it at first, so I think it makes a lot of sense that he prefers nonviolent behavior as an initial or default response. However, pacifism is still defined by the belief that no circumstance or reason whatsoever can justify an act of violence, which directly goes against how Jack personally feels about and uses it.

Going back to Ouroboros, he personally defines a “monster” as anyone who would willingly harm or enjoy harming someone who doesn’t deserve it, even if they aren’t actually a particular species of monster. And going back to S13, he has no problem murdering Michael’s army or even torturing Michael himself (which he specifically does because Michael “hurt his friends, hurt his family.” Ergo, Jack does believe in using violence, so long as it’s only used as a justified defense, and I think that is also a part of why him torturing Nick so horrifically is meant to land on us as Something Ostensibly Wrong. Did Nick deserve it? Yes. Mary isn’t even upset about him being killed; she just halfheartedly tells Jack “not like that.” Nick deserved it, but he is still barely a threat to someone like Jack (which everybody knew)—and because he isn’t a veritable threat, none of what Jack does to him can actually qualify as a “defense.”

It’s violence for the sake of violence, with a personal grudge for motivation, and while it’s shown a lot throughout SPN, it hits a lot harder coming from Jack specifically because he, again, is generally averse to [ab]using his power like that—even against other enemies. He believes in necessary and defensive violence and acts accordingly, which makes the completely unnecessary violence he uses against Nick more disturbing; it’s not about defending his loved ones or even stopping a nefarious plot anymore (he literally banishes Lucifer within seconds of getting there). It’s just about making someone suffer and enjoying it. In Absence we also get the vague implication about Jack’s particular fears and insecurities: he’s afraid that he isn’t really loved or wanted for himself, but rather that he’s valued for being “the muscle to take out enemies,”—that he’s nothing more to the Winchesters than a pet monster and easily discardable if he’s no longer useful to them.

On the flip side of that, he’s also canonically very happy to be wanted, needed and helpful to his family/friends—which is to say, again, he’s perfectly fine using violence as a justifiable defense that serves his family (which is also why he chooses to burn Nick to death after Sam indirectly wishes it on him, and why he’s happy to murder all of Dumah’s targets under the guise that it would make Sam and Dean happy). Once he realizes the truth and horror of his actions, however, he tells Dean that he is a monster, by his own definition. But how exactly is this complicated, you might ask? Well I’m glad you did, because I’m getting to it. Throughout his entire short-lived life, Jack has had to be painfully aware of the damage he can and does cause, and what it means for how he’s perceived and the ever present debate about his “true” nature.

I can’t find it now and probably won’t bother looking, but i had another post about how Jack inwardly perceives himself and wants to be perceived in return, particularly when he’s perceived as a threat. To summarize: because of his particular moral code, Jack inwardly knows he would never [want to] use his power against his family or friends, and is therefore not a threat to them, and therefore does not want to be perceived as one despite the danger he still poses with the potential alone. The eggshells that people walk around him are solely based on the fact that he has immense potential and capability to hurt them, all prevented by his simple continuous and impermanent choice to not hurt them.

The only thing standing between them and everything he’s ever done to their enemies is the fact that he considers them friends and has no reason to want to hurt them, and that’s exactly what Jack himself personally lives by. It’s the same blind trust that Sam and Dean have built with Cas; they know what he can do, and they know when he would or wouldn’t choose to do it. It’s a mutual understanding that “I know you can hurt me but I care about you enough to trust you not to do that,” and “I know I can hurt you but I care about you enough to not hurt you and Im glad you trust me to not do that.” I also mentioned it in the post that in Last Holiday, Jack doesn’t deny it when Mrs. Butters says that he’s insanely powerful; he does, however, deny her saying that Sam and Dean should be afraid of him, because “[he] would never hurt them.”

Insanely powerful? ✅

Potentially dangerous? ✅

A threat to be feared? ❌

(This is also what makes Mary’s death by Jack and Sam and Dean’s subsequent actions exceptionally tragic on both sides; their mutual trust is inadvertently, yet still effectively, broken. Jack has also effectively gone against his own morality by harming people he loves and people who don’t deserve it, and now in S15 is struggling with the loss of said trust and the need to earn it back).

That, my hypothetical audience member, is the complicated part. Having to find a middle ground between necessary, defensive, justifiable violence that his surrounding community would approve or appreciate, and the completely unnecessary abuse or misuse of power (ie violence) that would register him as an evil monster and/or a threat to be put down for the justifiable greater good. There’s also the additional middle ground between presenting and maintaining the image of himself as docile and non-threatening (the behavior of which is hugely infantilized by the fandom), while also still being able to defend others with the same violence that could easily lead to him being seen as a threat.

in conclusion (1): Jack is not a pacifist but he has an extremely complicated relationship with violence and the fluctuating justifications surrounding it which he must meet in order to continuously be perceived as safe and trustworthy in spite of his capabilities.

In conclusion (2): this is the truest of jack true forms:

thank you for coming to my yap session, don’t let the door hit you where the good lord split you on the way out 🫶

#cal.txt #spn #supernatural #spn meta #sort of #spn analysis #jack kline #dean winchester #sam winchester #mary winchester #castiel #team free will 2.0 #when does violence become a love language? when it’s all you think you’re good for of course!#this is what I mean when I say jack is like a wolf in sheep’s clothing. not out of deceit but out of a need to be loved and belong #dog motif #wolf motif #lamb motif #a wolf in sacrificial lambs clothing if you will #boy oh boy where do I even start. he’s…well..hes my everything

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yeehawbvby · 4 months

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Falling Away With You | Ch. 48

Sebastian x F!Reader and M. Rasmodius x F!Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: Y/n goes a little apeshit at JojaMart lmao

Author’s Note: *Crawls out of a pit covered in dirt and blood. Slaps this chapter down in front of you, on a SUNDAY no less!*

My health situation hasn’t improved whatsoever, but I will prevail, damnit!!

I wrote most of this and posted to ao3 early this morning, and haven't had a chance to proofread really. I'll do my best to get that done soon ^.^ Sorry if there are any weird wordings. Also sorry for the complete lack of Seb and Magnus in this one, I hope the shenanigans make up for it <3

Table of Contents + Work Summary

Check it out on ao3!

Prev | Next

I hate that stupid, cryptic, blue note I got.

Ever since it came, I think about it every time I check the mailbox, without fail. I don’t want to, I kinda just want to forget it exists, but I just… I dunno. I have a bad feeling about it. A gut feeling. Like, something’s totally up with it. It’s just been sitting in my closet for safekeeping until I decide what to do, though.

For some reason, I’ve been too nervous to bring it back up to Magnus. He’s forgotten it exists, from what I can tell. I think I’ll do my best to keep it that way for now. It feels more like my burden to bear than his, and besides, he’s already got the whole region to take care of.

After today’s confirmation that I don’t have bills or anything important like that, I head inside to get ready to leave the farm. Reeeally hoping my routine will shake out my heebiejeebies.

I got the OK from Magnus to use his fancy shrine for Spirit’s Eve. Got an idea of what I think I want to make myself look like, too. Maybe a tiefling or something. If tieflings don’t really exist, I’m sure some sort of succubi, or imps, or some sort of creature that looks like one’s gotta, no? I suppose I could always fall back on just pretending I’m an elf… man, a tail and horns would be so fun though.

Either way, tomorrow is the big day and I am so ready for it.

I mean, like, almost ready. Whatever.

Today I’m going to Magnus’ place to get some practice in. Just a precautionary measure to try not to, like, blow myself up or something.

I’m gonna keep my outfit cozy and easy to move around in, but I have half a mind to make sure I wouldn’t mind losing these clothes in particular if something goes wrong with the transformation. Just some leggings, some crew-cut socks, an old hoodie, and my favorite boots, since I won’t have my shoes on in the shrine anyway. All of it is in black. Sebastian cosplay.

I’ll pop my red studs in too, gotta commit to the bit. I haven’t had time to talk to The Emo and see if he actually did get his shit pierced last night, but assuming he did, and assuming he was able to use these for it, I wanna go all out, baby.

Now, before I head to the tower, I’ve got some errands to run around town. I woke up a bit late so there’s gonna be more people out than I’m looking forward to, but hopefully I have no creepy Alex encounters or awkward conversations with Shane again.

I promised Sam I’d visit him at work sometime soon, so I might as well head there first. He hates it there, and it’s been a while since we’ve caught up, so I’ll hopefully be a welcome distraction. I’ll bring him a coffee too to keep his spirits high.

After it’s done brewing, I grab two foam cups and pour the coffee in. Knowing Sam, he probably needs this stuff sweet, and I’m in the mood for sweet too, so I pour in a bunch of vanilla-flavored creamer. To make the beverages ~gourmet,~ I add a little whipped cream to each, as well as a light drizzle of chocolate syrup. After securing the plastic lids and giving Cannoli some well-deserved love, I head out.

While I pass by the bus stop, I make eye contact with Pam. I’ve never spoken to her, but… I dunno. I can’t tell if I like her or not. She gives me a nasty stink eye and I can only further assume she’s as mean as she outwardly appears. Unless she was just cursed with an intense resting bitch face...

I smile Pam’s way anyway. She doesn’t smile back, but that’s okay. It doesn’t benefit anyone to be so judgemental of her.

I pass a few local moms once I make it to the town square. None really mind me, which could mean they either didn’t notice, or they don’t care. Either is fine by me. I don’t hear what they’re saying, but Caroline talks very animatedly just before the rest of the group bursts into laughter.

I turn my attention back ahead as I pass by Pierre’s and nearly bump into Marnie as she’s leaving the shop.

We both squeak out a little “Oh!” before apologizing in unison.

“I wasn’t really paying attention,” I double down.

“Oh, that’s fine. I rarely ever am!” She then motions to the two cups in my hands and adds, laughing, “At least the coffee’s safe!”

I awkwardly nod in agreement. Then, a brief flash of myself actually spilling coffee somewhere down the road raids my mind, my necklace tingling against my skin and my fingers practically buzzing.

Great.

“Everything alright, sweetie?”

That probably looked weird. “Yeah, sorry,” I try to recover, “just sleepy today!”

I take a sip of coffee to emphasize my point. Plus, I might as well drink what I can before these puppies go down. Hopefully I’ll be able to save at least one of them when the time comes.

“Aw, I’m sorry to hear that!” She puts a gentle hand on my shoulder. “I need to get back to the shop, but take it easy and don’t overwork yourself, you hear?”

I nod, thanking her and waving her off with a shy grin before I continue moving. Once I get closer to the spot I’m supposed to be spilling these drinks — just before that little bridge over the river by JojaMart — I begin to walk more cautiously. If I can just keep these steady and focus on the ground…

A sneeze creeps up on me. Oh god. Oh god oh fuck oh no.

Just as I’m beginning to carefully place one of the cups on the side of the bridge for safe keeping, the sneeze forces its way out of me. Luckily, one beverage — the one I hadn’t drank from yet — stays safely in my hand. Unluckily, the one I was working on trying to keep safe fell to the stones at my feet, opening up and dispersing its contents fucking everywhere.

God damnit.

“Nice one.”

God fucking damnit.

I look up to the voice. It turns out Shane’s outside having a smoke. He’s at the opposite end of the bridge watching my clumsiness unfold with an aloof look about him. He’s bent over to lean on the stone wall, his right elbow propped up and his corresponding cheek in his palm. His left forearm is flat against the structure while his left hand lazily dangles his cigarette between two fingers.

Is that pink nail polish on one of them? I wonder if that’s Jas’ doing.

I merely groan back my response, picking up the now-empty cup to discard in the trash bin near the store. As I proceed on my walk of shame past Shane, I point out, “At least my clothes stayed safe.”

Shane follows and asks, “How many ants do you think you murdered with that accident?”

I grin a little at his dry humor. “Oh it was a massacre,” I bounce back. “The war in Gotoro pales in comparison.”

“Ha!” Oh my god, I made Shane — the grumpiest fuck I’ve ever met — laugh?! “Right on. Seems like pointless violence anyway.”

I turn to see if I can catch him smiling for the first time, like, ever. It’s not there anymore, but there’s a residual brightness in his features.

Shane snuffs out his cig on the ashtray built into the garbage’s lid, abandoning it there before shoving his hands in the pockets of his bright blue shorts.

“Those sons’a bitches,” he nods in the direction of my carnage, “they had it coming.”

My nose scrunches as I laugh a little, giving him a funny look. “Damn, what’d they do to you?”

There’s a playful glint in his eye, as he deadpans me. “Exist.”

I shrug and nod — I get it, they can be pretty annoying! — and follow the man as he makes his way through the white-rimmed, glass-centered automatic doors. I try not to cringe outwardly at how many self-righteous pro-Joja fliers are on them.

Shane stops a few steps into the store. Turns around. I stop too and look up, tilting my head. What’re you looking at, punk? I think to myself. Dunno if I’d be pushing my limits by trying to say it out loud. Better not.

Shane gives me a weird look too, but I can barely see it. My senses are taking their damn time getting used to the obnoxiously fluorescent lighting.

“Don’t you shop at Pierre’s?” Shane wonders out loud.

I blink a few times as I adjust to the environment and then nod. “Visiting Sam,” I explain.

“Ah.” He nods too, in understanding, and then looking the other way he continues, “Enjoy.”

Shane makes his way towards a door to the right of the manager’s office. Says “Employee’s only,” so I’m assuming it’s a break room or something. I don’t miss the incorrect apostrophe, but choose not to linger on it either.

“You too.” He looks back over his shoulder, so I pair my well wishes with a lazy salute.

“Buh.”

…Buh?

I smile. I think he’s warming up to me!

Feeling a tad lost now that I’m alone, I look around before making any advances. Should’ve asked Shane if he knew where Sam would be around now. I dunno how the shifts work around here.

The cashiers to my left — a visibly exhausted red headed woman, probably in her late 30s or early 40s; and a scrawny, scruffy looking teenager, with thick-framed glasses sitting atop his freckled nose — both look miserable.

The boy is boredly leaning against the counter, zoned out on the ground in front of it. The woman looks totally spaced out on nothing in particular. It almost seems like she’s fighting off sleep, too. Poor lady.

The woman and I lock onto each other. She looks away from my face before I can even register it, but I notice her eyes flicker longingly to the coffee cup in my hand a few times after the fact. I peer between her and the beverage twice before I all but scurry away into the aisles. I’m too awkward for this. My only option is to retreat. Never said I wasn’t a coward.

While I venture past the boatloads of boxed, bagged and canned foods in search of the resident dog boy, I observe some of the products. Some don’t look safe for consumption, while others seem like they’d be fun to try as a one-off sort of deal. It overlaps a few times as well. I mean, why wouldn’t I want to try this cereal which very explicitly states on the box that it’s more sugar than grains? It makes me stifle a giggle. I like the brutal honesty.

I stop and stare at it for a sec. Gnawing my lip. Wondering if I should just…

No. I shan’t.

I break away from temptation and trek on. As I reach the end of the aisle, I pan across the back of the store. More shelf-stable products, a small produce section… ah!

Sam looks like he’s supposed to be mopping the floor near the freezers. To be fair, he is holding a mop, and it is touching the floor! But instead of cleaning, he uses the tool as a microphone; singing against the end of the brown wooden handle, both hands passionately gripping it as he bends his torso to quietly belt one part in particular. Sam’s eyes are shut, his bulky black headphones are secured over his ears, and he has not a single worry in the world.

Holding his coffee in both hands now, I stop walking and lean against a nearby shelf. Observing. Waiting. Eventually he’ll have to see me.

He does a little spin move and carelessly bumps into the bucket of soapy water he’s working with, causing it to slosh around a little. Some of it lands on the floor, and some on the pants of Sam’s jumpsuit. Doesn’t faze him in the slightest.

He does another spin the opposite way and nearly knocks over the conveniently placed display of sprinkles that are situated right in front of the ice cream freezer.

I feel like I should probably stop him before something bad happens, but he looks so damn content and so stinkin’ cute that I can’t be assed.

Just as I’m thinking this, he opens his eyes, completely avoiding my direction while he immediately peers over his shoulder. Sam scans around, getting a full view of the proximate areas. It seems like he’s just making sure he’s not about to get caught by his boss or something, if I had to guess.

Eventually he lands on me. We both smile wide, and I triumphantly hold up his (unspilled!!) coffee in one hand, presenting it with a small flourish of the other and a bow of my head.

“For you, my good sir.” I make sure to sound extra fancy, dropping my voice an octave and annunciating my words a bit too much.

He looks around again before meeting me in the middle with a fist bump, completely ignoring my bit. Aw man.

“Hell yeah, thanks dude!”

I shoot some awkward finger guns at him, “You got it, bud.”

“You didn’t make yourself one?”

I sigh, lamenting, “I did…”

Sam scans my face as we share a short silence. Then, the lightbulb almost visibly goes off in his noggin. “You spilled it, didn’t you?”

Pursing my lips, I nod. “I spilled it, yeah.”

“Buuummer, dude.” He pats my head and I sigh, leaning into his touch. I’ll be damned if I don’t still love head-pats, even if it’s been a while since I’ve gotten one. “Wanna split this one then?” he offers, palm still on my crown. At this point he’s just trying to messy me up.

“No thanks, I’ll just grab another later if I’m really craving it.” Not having noticed the trance I’ve been in as my hair gets slowly and steadily ruined — it feels nice, okay? — I finally look up at him, cheekily glaring as I manually remove his large hand from me. I add on as I try to repair the frizzy aftermath, “Sick performance, by the way!”

“You think so?” he beams. Makes me laugh.

“Of course! It looked like you were having a lot of fun.”

Sam’s face is a bit flushed as he takes the compliment, not even trying to hide it; he has a big goofy grin on his face, too.

It drops and Sam looks behind him as a deep voice with a bit of a southern twang booms from one of the aisles nearby. “Samson?”

“Shit, here.”

Sam hurriedly places his coffee into my hand and rushes back near his water bucket, looking around for his manager as he moves. I try to make things less suspicious by pretending to look at some nearby end caps.

I take a peek over when I hear Sam greet the man, “Hiya! What’s up, Morris?”

Crossing his arms and puffing out his chest to try and make himself look mighty, a man in a navy blue suit, a bright red bow tie, and a poorly-applied black toupee corrects him. “That’s Mr. Saxton, son.”

I roll my eyes. Awesome to know the guy running this Joja is just as insufferable as the dudes who work on the corporate side.

Sam puts an anxious hand on the back of his neck, and halfheartedly smiles as he apologizes, his speaking patterns much more formal than before. Poor guy… it hurts to see him having to tone it down so much for this dipshit.

I turn my attention back in front of me so as to give him some privacy. Not sure he’d want me to hear him getting his ear talked off.

This display is full of holiday cards... I might as well waste some time with these bad boys. I pick up one with a cartoon beagle wearing a birthday hat on it, stealing a sip of Sam’s coffee as I read the pun on the front: “Have a doggone good birthday!” Alright, nice and cheesy start…

I flip the card open. It starts blaring Baha Men’s “Who Let The Dogs Out.” Fucking hell. Jumpscare me, why doncha! I shudder at how tinny the music sounds — likely made worse by its volume — then close the card and place it back in its spot, not bothering to read more.

“Excuse me, miss?”

I peer over my left shoulder, and see that Mr. Saxton is making his way towards me. A vein is popping in his forehead, but he has a toothy smile on his face that screams customer service. Not sure what’s going on and feeling a little anxious about the situation, I don’t answer with words — I just turn my body to him and watch him expectantly.

My eyes flicker to Sam real quick, who’s closer to the opposite end of the freezers now. He’s looking over here though, and when his eyes catch mine, he mouths “Go!” and motions his arm towards the front end of the store. Maybe he got caught socializing or something… wouldn’t doubt that there’s probably heavy surveillance in here. Man.

I look back at Sam’s boss as he says, “I’m going to need you to discard your beverage.”

My brows furrow and I tilt my head. “Why?”

Ah, he’s the asking-questions-is-talking-back type: He huffs a deep breath and tilts his head as if to mimic me, clasping his fingers together in front of his ribs. The smile and vein are both still on his face.

“It is not only unacceptable to bring your own food into a grocery store,” he strains, “but I cannot have you spilling your drink all over our products.”

…I haven’t spilled anything. What does he think I am, some crusty little kid?

Damn, this is bringing out a rage that I haven’t experienced since working behind a Joja desk. I didn’t know I was even capable of it anymore. Must be something about the overstimulatingly bright blues, or the blindingly white strips of lights. Same ones we had above each cubicle in the office.

My anxiety is rapidly replaced with a petty yearn to cause a ruckus as I realize that I don’t work for Joja anymore. I never have to even come here again, actually.

I don’t answer to this fucko! I don’t answer to anyone!

Screw this guy!

Feeling courageous, I put on my own customer service mask as I inquire, “Do you want me to spill this on your products?”

“E-excuse me?!”

I hover the cup near the cards, tilting it a little. Doing a little eyebrow wiggle too for good measure. “It feels like you dooo.”

“I— w-what are you doing?”

Seb would be so proud if he were here. Not sure how Magnus would react, but I’d like to imagine he’d support me too.

Completely on impulse, I bring the cup in front of me and splash a little coffee in the man’s direction instead of the cards’. The now-lukewarm liquid splatters onto the white button-down beneath his jacket and rapidly seeps into the fabric, leaving a light brown, unsightly splotch.

Sick, got him where it hurts and none got on the floor! Less work for Sam!

Making sure my voice is just as cheery as Morris was trying to keep his, I cap this off, “Stop treating your employees like crap and stop treating complete strangers like children, asshole.”

This feels so good. My heart is racing and my pits feel a little moist and I might just end up an anxious mess the second I walk away, but I’ll be damned if this isn’t cool as fuck in the moment. When Leah asked me last week if Magnus ever wanted to go apeshit, it didn’t even occur to me how badly I wanted to go apeshit.

I walk down the nearest aisle as Morris continues sputtering something about me leaving, paying for this, whatever.

Shane’s kneeled down in the middle of the aisle stocking shelves. He faces me for a moment and grins slyly. “That was cool as hell.” Why does this feel so validating? “A woman after my own heart.”

HUH?

I blink that fucking flashbang away — seriously, the last time I saw him he was still being a dick, and today he’s treating every interaction like we’re fully acquainted, if not more, what the heck — as he turns away to scan items onto the shelf again.

“I really didn’t do much…” I really didn’t. Just kinda caused a minor inconvenience for the guy.

My hands are shaking though, so it must be catching up to me.

“That still took some balls.” He glimpses at me briefly and adds, “Y’look like you might cry, though. Get outta here before I change my mind about you.”

I huff out a quiet laugh and steady Sam’s — well, my, now — coffee in both hands. “On it, boss.”

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