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memwazz · 11 months

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SEVEN - Grace Hopkins

- ROLE

Grace joined the team 5 years before the story and became a fundamental member. Her superheroine pseudonym is E-DEN and she could be considered as the "Mom Friend".

- APPEARANCE

Species : surhuman

Age : 32

Height : 161 cm

Grace (left) with her wife Samira (right).

COSTUME

- ILLUSTRATIONS, COMICS, SHITPOST

- Illustrations :

Finish Line - Bodies -

- Comics :

Dancing Queen -

- Shitpost :

Disney Princess Meme - Trauma Dump - Attractive -

ABILITIES

Grace is a telepath who can either read minds or communicate with people through thoughts she sends in their heads. Her surhuman ability, closely linked to thoughts and emotions, makes her empathy extremely developed.

Her aura is naturally reassuring and Grace sometimes uses her powers to apease her relative's negative emotions.

In addition to her telepathy, Grace can also fight well as she's been practicing judo since she's a teenager.

- PERSONALITY

Maybe because of her psychic capacities, Grace is someone highly empathic. She's sensitive to both her friends and unknown people's feelings and feels sad or guilty every time she senses negative emotions. Whatever happens, she always tries to apease these with her telepathy.

Grace wouldn't forgive herself if she accidentally offended or hurt someone : she's trying to be soft and understanding with everyone. She's overall very attentive to what people say and think and is always ready to sacrifice her own time and mental health to help and relieve them. She thinks everybody has something good in them and would never sentence someone without trying to understand the way they function or their viewpoint.

Despite being a valuable quality in many situations, Grace's empathy sometimes could and is lived as an intrusion. She tends to be quite nosy when it comes to her relatives' thoughts, wants to know everything about their lives and checks on how they feel way too much.

She's actually curious in general, not only when it's about other people; she likes to learn about everything and collect informations on various topics.

With Arthur and Aloïs, she's one of the most "mature" members of the 7th Division. Even if her powers have exhausting consequences on her, she remains a stable and reliable person. She has a calm temper and learnt to care for others before herself. Now she controls her telepathy entirely, it helps her overcome her moods, which makes a good diplomat out of her.

She sometimes considers her friends as kids she has to parent and take care of. Grace is very analytical when it comes to people's problems and acts like a therapist for the group, even if this role is tiring and isn't accepted by everyone (Aloïs for example, is hesitant about letting his emotions out).

Despite her calm and serene personality, Grace has fears of her own. Because she's nosy and very engaged in her acquaintances' lives, she sometimes feels stressed or panics when she's not informed about a feeling or important event. Secrets scare her and give her the sensation of being excluded or not being enough. It makes her an honest person as she will always tell the truth (with tact but sincerity).

Her power being difficult to control and a huge part of her daily life, she tends to overuse it : she's therefore often tired and victim of migraines. Moreover, she has the reflex to absorb all the negative feelings around her and it can make her very depressed. She could be qualified as hypersensitive.

However, she's not weak and can be as stubborn as her friends, which sometimes causes her to disobey or question Aloïs' decisions. She also is an activist actively fighting the racism, sexism and homophobia she lives daily; as a school principal, she transmits the kids her strong values.

- BACKSTORY

Grace was born in a very Christian family and is the second sibling of 3. Her power declared when she was 5, taking the form of thoughts she could hear as whispers in her head. She didn't understand what it was and since none of her relatives had unusual abilities, nobody was able to explain what was happening.

The voices slowly drove her crazy as they were permanent and sometimes transmitted negative messages, depending on what people thought. She was a sensitive, stressed and depressed kid who was diagnosed very early with schizophrenia because of what everyone mistook for hallucinations.

Grace was hospitalized aged 10 and given meds that didn't help her much. Back then, she was living her life like a zombie and struggling with everything. She still managed to attend online classes and avoid school failure.

As a teen, she started questioning her sexuality but was quickly discouraged by her conservative parents. She distanced from them a bit and closed in herself because she feared the homophobic whispers she was hearing were people insulting her (which was kind of true because they were actual thoughts of people passing nearby). Grace had almost no friends all her life until her meeting with Samira.

Aged 20, she was clinically depressed and had even tried to kill herself once. The only way she had found to shut the voices down was to get completely wasted and so she went to a lot of student social events to drink a lot. There, she met a girl her age who didn't fit a lot because her religion forbade her to drink but people were still pressuring her to do so.

Grace felt Samira's distress, came for a chat, made her a lot of alcohol-free cocktails and befriended her. The two of them became very close and it helped Grace dealing with her depression. They finally fell in love after years of friendship and started dating.

Grace introduced Sam to her parents whose reaction was a disappointment : they rejected her for being a Muslim lesbian and didn't allow her at home. Grace definetly cut contact with them and her big brother Adam who took their side. She moved out and settled down with her girlfriend.

5 years before the story, after an argument and a break up with Samira, Grace felt suicidal again and tried to jump off a bridge. She was stopped just before by Aloïs and they had a long conversation in which he explained and convinced her the voices were actually telepathic powers. From then on she learnt how to master it, became friends with Aloïs, joined the Division and finally got better.

She married Samira two years later but their relationship was not doing great back then. Because of Grace's double life as a superheroine, Samira thought she was cheating on her and they were arguing everyday. She finally was forced to reveal her secret identity and the situation fell into place. They're still married in the main timeline and are planning on adopting a child.

- PRIVATE LIFE

Grace stopped talking to her parents and her big brother Adam. However, she still loves her little sister Alyssa and they're in a long distance relationship. She's married to Samira and is close to her family, especially her father and her nephew Tamim.

She works as a school principal and rents a little appartment downtown with her wife.

Nicknames :

E-DEN

RELATIONSHIPS

SAMIRA

Samira has been Grace's wife for 3 years : they're very close and know each other by heart. They live together and are planning on founding a family, but can't adopt for the moment because they're having it hard as racialized lesbians.

The year before the story, their relationship was not doing great because Grace was never home and couldn't tell she actually had a secret identity. It lead Samira to think Grace was cheating on her and they came close to divorce.

When Grace revealed she had superpowers, Samira distanced herself because she was afraid of her telepathy and doubted Grace a bit, thinking she could have manipulated her the whole time.

Now their marriage is better : Grace swore she would never lie to Samira again and Samira accepted her wife's secret identity and even met the other members of the Division.

They're a stable and loving couple.

ADAM AND ALYSSA

Grace stopped talking to her big brother Adam after he said their parents ''had the right to disagree'' with her sexuality. He apologized a few times but she can't forgive him for the moment and refuses any interaction until she feels ready. Adam respects her decision and they don't see each other anymore even though they used to be very close as children. Their relationship will get better through the story.

Alyssa is Grace's little sister and the apple of her eyes. Contrary to Adam, she talks to her every day through online messages because Alyssa married and is starting a family out of town.

Grace would protect her at any cost and will even fight against Alyssa's husband then fly with her to Canada to get an abortion after they find out he's involved in drug trafficking.

ERWAN

Grace (as well as her wife Samira) almost sees Erwan as a son. She's the one to help when he's feeling anxious at the beginning of the story, then she takes him home to protect him after he's tortured by the mafia during Lilyas' arc. She sees in Erwan a great heroic potential and can't help tellingit even when it annoys him. She's always here to apease his fears and anger issues.

ALOÏS

The two of them met when Grace was about to jump off a bridge to kill herself because of the voices. Aloïs forced her to have a conversation and helped her understanding she had telepathic powers.

From then on, they became friends despite of Aloïs' distance and Grace joined the Division a few months later.

Grace's empathy and kindness make them quite the opposite emotionally but they still have agreeable conversations. Grace has perfectly understood Aloïs is not a talkative person and struggles with social interactions : she doesn't force him to communicate and does her best to respect his space and intimacy.

However, Grace is frustrated because Aloïs is the most reserved person of the team and she can't always perceive his emotions. His mental barriers are strong and it stresses Grace who can't help or apease him much. Though, she's always ready to advise him when it comes to communication and social interactions.

Grace likes Aloïs' honesty, loyalty and composed personality. She's grateful for the hand he gave her 5 years ago and his caring attitude towards her mental health.

#sdu #seven #seven division united #oc #original character #character sheet #grace hopkins #superheroine #e-den

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beevean · 4 years

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SEGA and the eternal issue of “Sonic’s girlfriend”

[Translator’s note: here is the original article written by @latin-dr-robotnik, originally written on the 18th of May 2020]

Today we’re going to talk about one of the aspects SEGA is more secretive about: Sonic’s relationships.

[Translator’s note: this article was written to celebrate Seaside Hill Paradise’s 200th entry. If you’re fluent in Spanish, I highly recommend you to check it out! And if you aren’t, go follow Latin’s Tumblr blog if you haven’t already and you’re into Sonamy, analyses, gushing about music and shitposts.]

This article concludes my Sonamy trilogy, and I recommend you to read the previous two articles: “SEGA and the eternal issue of the Sonamy dynamic” and “’I love you’ – forbidden words in Sonic”. This means this is a shipping article – if you’re not interested into another essay about the love life of a blue hedgehog, I can redirect you to other articles such as “Sonic and speed: are we misunderstanding them?” and “What went wrong with Classic Sonic’s music in Sonic Forces?”.

Everybody else, welcome to today’s article!

It should be noted that this article focuses more on the semi-official and strictly official aspects, since there is really not much to say about the fandom. Nowadays the fandom has a relatively peaceful coexistence, creating art, fanfics and more, for all kind of ships; sometimes there’s an occasional fight between ships or a ship that clearly is not appropriate… but besides that, everything seems relatively calm, at least in my experience and compared to other fandoms.

Too cool for relationships...

Few things are as mentioned and yet silenced by the official SEGA media as the fateful words “girlfriend” and “Sonic” put together. In official terms, Sonic has always been this young, cool hedgehog, with a pure love for nature and never too worried about life, but with a moral code that makes him fight against injustices. During his first years, Sonic was almost impatient and a little emotionally distant, although as it was the ‘90s and things were not so clear for the young SEGA star, different interpretations would take the character through different paths - some more radical than others. As the years went by, and going through many redesigns, certain aspects of his personality would be perfected, exaggerated, or even flanderized. His position on relationships, on the other hand, would remain relatively constant over the decades, with a few particular exceptions.

The this is that Sonic, in the words of his own creator Naoto Ohshima, has always been considered “a young man with a child's heart”, which has helped to substantiate and understand why the character would remain relatively distant from his feelings, and much closer to his own interests associated with the life of adventure.

... or is he?

Despite everything I just said, they tried in many occasions, if not succeeded, to give Sonic a girlfriend, with various results.

As carefree as Sonic is, and as much as SEGA tried to clarify this point over and over again, the people behind his character have always tried to introduce one or more relationships into his life. Even Naoto Ohshima himself has made his own suggestion as to who might be a hypothetical partner for his character. The different interpretations I’ve mentioned have tweaked Sonic’s character to make it more apt to certain types of dynamics, and the cultural gap between the East and the West (which I analyzed a few years ago with the first article of this “trilogy”) also has a considerable impact on the type of relationships that would be established for Sonic from very early in his history until today.

Author’s note: the concept of “Sonic + human woman” of 1990 wasn’t completely forgotten, no no, it was brought back 16 years later, in… well… the worst way possible.

Let’s see an example. Going back to his very origins, in his pre-Sonic 1 sketches Sonic was often depicted with a stereotypical damsel in distress, Madonna, his own “Princess Peach” that ended up being scrapped for many reasons, including the similarities with Super Mario. As the years have gone by, this concept has not disappeared, but rather the writers and directors of the series have taken it down different paths over time. While Madonna was too cliché, other candidates for the role of “Sonic’s girlfriend” would quickly appear to try different dynamics, directly or indirectly endorsed by SEGA.

Sally Acorn

For many years, Princess Sally was for Western fans the first person who came to mind when they thought of “Sonic’s girlfriend”. Since 1993, and for 2 more decades, her relationship with Sonic has gone in many directions, but fundamentally the most amazing thing about this whole situation was that she was Sonic’s official girlfriend (at least in the Archie Comics canon). It was also one of the many headaches for SEGA in the last decade.

Originally a fellow fighter against the macabre Robotnik from the 1993 animated series Sonic The Hedgehog, Sonic and Sally’s relationship was always marked by their opposite personalities; while Sally tends to plan ahead and is much more focused on the seriousness of the task, Sonic was the type to destroy robots first and think later. “Opposites attract,” they say, and by the (premature, I might add) end of that series both were already more than friends. They had already kissed a couple of times.

At the most critical moment in their relationship, Sonic, after a year of being missing in space and presumed dead by everyone, returns to Mobius only to end up back in potential danger, decides to ignore the wishes and warnings of Sally, who’s clearly emotionally traumatized and stressed by both the general situation and the responsibilities she had to carry out for her kingdom in the absence of her parents. The result of this explosive cocktail was one of the most infamous scenes in all of Archie Sonic, "the Slap", where Sally finally reacts violently to Sonic's selfish statements. The hedgehog's response? Well, a long exposure to the screams about her experience - also traumatic - up to that point. In the end, both end up screaming and crying in front of virtually everyone.

What followed in the next decades was an expansion of that original SatAM canon in the Archie Comics, in which its various writers introduced varying degrees of drama and increasing conflict to demonstrate the strong bond between them, destabilizing or even stabilizing it again, multiple times. They would be together for some time, then they would be apart, eventually rekindling the flame of love passionately, until a final sacrifice on their part and the eventual resetting of the entire Archie Sonic canon.

In their last years, after the Super Genesis Wave, Sonic and Sally’s relationship went back to being platonic. a good friendship with the advantages and disadvantages of their personalities - Sally’s leadership and Sonic’s extreme confidence - while the focus was put on the flourishing relationship between Sally and her best friend (and old computer!) Nicole.

Regardless of the way their relationship ended, it's undeniable that Sally has left a huge mark. Being a product of the West, her existence was never really accepted by the Sonic’s Japanese creators, but because the bulk of the fandom is here in the West, Sally's presence has been strongly associated with Sonic, the Freedom Fighters, the comics... and also the ship wars between her and the character we’re going to talk about next. Her very existence was a living contradiction to the Japanese central canon, an official girlfriend who broke all the ideas that existed for Sonic in terms of his conception of relationships and lead him through unique paths. Whether for better or worse, Sally broke the mold.

Eimi. Rosy. Amy Rose.

On the opposite side of the spectrum there’s Amy, a character that was originally conceived as the Minnie to Sonic’s Mickey, but with her own dynamic.

Despite Amy’s existence being strongly tied to Sonic’s, once again Sonic Team tried to avoid the classic cliché (in this case to copy Mickey and Minnie), opting then to establish Amy as the one interested in a relationship, while Sonic runs away from this idea. For this dynamic to keep working, Sonic’s feelings have to be kept hidden, with excuses like his “shyness”, which leads to ambiguity, or because, as said before, of his “child’s heart”.

The most interesting thing is that Amy kept her canonical status of “self-proclaimed girlfriend” since 1993, which makes her “official” and “not official” at the same time, but there are some traces left from the Sonic manga of 1992 (which in turn influenced Amy’s original design), where a prototype version of Amy (or, as it was spelled there, Emi/Eimi) played the role of Sonic’s girlfriend (or Nicki’s, to be more precise). With this detail in mind, Amy can be considered, at least in the East, the very first “Sonic’s girlfriend”, even before Sally – but her situation is much more complex.

Sonic Mega Drive (top) and Sonic Boom (bottom), representing some differences in different Sonic continuities.

In any case, the manga would be the first and only time Amy was officially considered “Sonic’s girlfriend”, because in the following decades and in several continuities the core of their dynamic shifted to Amy chasing Sonic. Both would get closer or further away depending on each case (in Fleetway, for example, Amy ends up marrying another character, while in Archie Sonic there would be only a few instances of potential interest, quickly overshadowed by convenience or other things directly or indirectly related to Sally), but generally no continuity would establish an official relationship. In some cases, such as Japan, it wouldn’t even be necessary to clarify the state of the relationship, since their cultures accept more easily the dynamic that Sonic Team proposed as an “official relationship”. Just looking at the artwork highlighted on Sonic Channel (run by SEGA of Japan) shows how much more accepted the relationship is, even though Sonic Team’s official artwork still avoids any kind of public confirmation. (Author’s note: I’ve written more about Amy according to the East and the West in the first article of this trilogy)

Unlike Sally, there is no “opposites attract” situation between Amy and Sonic, and, at first, there is no prior friendship from which a potential relationship could flourish. We witnessed their dynamics from the first moment they met, and it would not be until years later that there would be a minimal basis for interaction from which various official continuities would bring both characters closer together.

Technically Amy already knew that her destiny was tied to Sonic and the events of Sonic CD on Little Planet, thanks to her tarot cards (an element that has disappeared since then), but for Sonic it was just another day of adventure, and although we’ve seen how Amy's feelings have progressed, mostly in Adventure 1 and 2, Sonic has never reflected on his personal feelings; it’s an aspect of the hedgehog that to this day remains a mystery to the audiences.

Also unlike Sally, Amy has appeared in multiple continuities of all kinds and because of that her relationship with Sonic has been affected in various ways. The main videogames canon has remained ambiguous and unchanged for 25 years: Amy would stay close to Sonic and offer some good moments to reflect on her feelings about him (some of which I mentioned in my post about Sonic Unleashed and Amy’s emotional support), while Sonic would remain distant, uncomfortable, shy, and, more recently, potentially affected by her apparent loss.

Sonic X is the first official attempt (by Sonic Team no less) to offer an expanded view of our characters. There’s a lot of discussion about how Sonic is slowly opening up to Amy’s advances, and these developments follow a line that we discussed in previous articles of this trilogy, and how, during the 2000s, the Japanese writers of the series kept slowly deepening the interactions between the two, reaching very important symbolic moments like Sonic X Ep. 9, 52 and 76, among several others. I am purposely leaving out specific details to direct your attention to this fantastic thread by Yvanix Rose that highlights some key details about how this continuity worked the Sonic-Amy dynamic. [Translator’s note: the thread is in Spanish]

Sonic X, episode 76.

Another essential continuity for the development of this dynamic was Sonic Boom, since, despite having been a separate continuity with its own interpretation of the characters, its existence managed to influence the main canon in some way in the years that followed its original release in 2014.

Sonic Boom made two important changes in the dynamic: Amy did no longer externalize her feelings with the same frequency or intensity (speeding up a process that already started in the main canon in 2008), and Sonic was noticeably more nervous and insecure of his feelings for her, even being jealous in several occasions. These changes got the dynamic closer to the “friends who have secret feelings to each other but they’re too shy to admit it” trope, and in the second season it could even be said that there are signals of the “secretly dating” trope. Nothing was officially confirmed yet, but the changes to the dynamic offered a fresh perspective to work from: winks and inferences about a relationship that was not talked about but seemed to happen behind the scenes.

Sonic Boom S1E16.

Sonic Boom’s approach also opened the door to working a little more on the characters’ new personalities. Taking a little inspiration from the original foundations of Sally and Sonic’s relationship, Boom now presented situations where Sonic and Amy’s perspectives actively clashed with each other, leading to discussions and moments that showed a little more of the mundane details of the friendship they had, rather than appealing to more classic behaviors of the main canon, like Sonic leaving the scene in a hurry. Considering the way things turned out the last time we saw this kind of dynamic on screen, it was pretty safe to assume that their new opposites were now attracted; the implied secret dating and so on only helped to give it more sustenance - which the fandom would eventually take to the extreme.

And lastly there’s IDW Sonic, the comic series that replaced Archie Sonic after its cancellation in 2017, and the most recent arc that offers an interesting perspective. Starting its continuity from the end of the events of Sonic Forces (which at the same time took on certain characteristics from the post-Boom era, particularly as far as Amy is concerned), IDW Sonic didn’t waste any time in presenting the way in which it would carry out its dynamic between Sonic and Amy.

Amy makes her feelings for Sonic very clear, and he is surprised but unable to match them. However, Sonic doesn’t want to outright reject her, and suggests that she come with him; she refuses, claiming that she has duties to the Resistance, setting the tone for the rest of the series. (IDW Sonic #2)

“Sonic’s girlfriend” today

As I mentioned earlier, after the reboot Sally was no longer considered Sonic’s girlfriend, and her disappearance after the cancellation of Archie Sonic in general is a sign that we may not see her ever again, even as a friend. As of today, in 2020, only Amy has been left in her “unofficial, but…” state, with various minor events taking place both in the main canon and in IDW Sonic:

In 2018 the official SEGA shop wrote a description for a piece of Amy Rose merchandise that said “celebrate 25 years of Sonic’s girlfriend”; the mistake wasn’t immediately corrected, despite the fandom pointing it out immediately.

The video game canon has remained dormant, with Team Sonic Racing in 2019 featuring more of a regular friendship between Sonic and Amy, sharing rivalries and quiet moments alike.

On the other hand, since IDW Sonic and Sonic Boom laid their foundations, we've begun to see a certain shift in the way the two characters are presented. While we’ve talked about IDW Sonic already, Sonic’s social medias have done multiple “Twitter Takeovers” where Sonic characters answer questions from fans, and Sonic has always answered more like his version of Boom to the inevitable question about Amy and his “feelings”.

Recent official animations like Sonic Mania Adventures and Team Sonic Racing Overdrive have shown Amy flirting with Sonic in a more casual way.

The current dynamic seems to be pointing towards “Sonic’s hidden feelings”, and I think we are at a perfect point to change the approach. SEGA in general seems more open to the idea of bringing these characters closer, probably as a marketing strategy, but without yet separating themselves from the central ideas that defined the dynamic for the last two and a half decades.

Conclusion

The idea of “Sonic’s girlfriend” has been one of the most experimental and controversial in the almost three decades that this series has been around for. SEGA has opened the door to all kinds of ambiguities, developments and interpretations, all with their pros and cons, instead of settling on a definitive position. As iconic as these characters, conceived as Sonic’s “romantic interests”, have become, they have also had their share of criticism and controversy, especially in the fandom.

The presence of Amy as the only “official but self-proclaimed girlfriend” today says a lot about the control SEGA (specifically SEGA of Japan) regained over the characters, after decades of interpretations that offered different alternatives with various degrees of success. At her best, Sally represented an ideal relationship with Sonic, much more complete and profound than the back-and-forth game between Amy and Sonic. But at her worst, this same relationship represented everything wrong that could happen by associating Sonic with the emotional spiderweb of a romantic relationship. SEGA hardening its control over the characters seems to have put an end of this type of situation where Sonic ends up being involved in a romantic telenovela, but at the same time it has revitalized the flirting game and the implicit associations that give fuel to the fandom fire.

From my humble interpretation, I think we’ve reached a point where Sonic and Amy have shared enough stories and moments to solidify the core aspects of their personalities and their friendship, allowing them to take the next step, which is to play around with the idea of “something else”. 25 years ago it was hard to see how these two characters could work together beyond “it’s SEGA’s word”; today there’s enough of a story to find a rhythm and chemistry for them, and the series of situations they've put themselves in (e.g. IDW Sonic’s plot arcs) are increasingly helping this case. The topic of “Sonic's girlfriend” may be a controversial one for SEGA and the fandom in general, but the doors have slowly been opened for this debate to develop and be investigated with interesting results, and I think that, in this new decade of 2020, there’s a unique potential to explore this kind of discussion, without sacrificing in any way the central principles of Sonic as a character. Thank you for joining me in these 200 entries, and hopefully we’ll see each other for many more.

#sonic the hedgehog #amy rose #sonamy #translation #analysis #long post #happy birthday latin!#this one was so hard #i had to cut a lot of shp-related parts sadly #but this whole project was very fun and enlightening

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witchy-lili · 4 years

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Sander Sides Coffeeshop AU! Part 2

Well I didn’t expect part one to get that much attention..

Thank you all :) Trigger warning : Hum, alcohol ? I guess ? tell me if I have to put something in there !

The first one was originally just a simple shitpost, but seeing this positivity encouraged me to write more ! So have that ! Oh and, use this song for a certain part of the chapter. Enjoy~

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Damn was this a tiring day for the owner. Logan closed the cafe’s door after the last customer, not even turning the key, before dropping down on one of the angle sofas, sighing loudly. He lifted his rectangle glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was tired, but now wasn’t the time to sleep.

The cafe, as much as he loved it, wasn’t enough income to maintain a stable life. He wasn’t in debt, lord knows how much he hated seeking help from others. “I always counted on myself, why change now ?”. The day was not the only time he was behind a counter. After closing his eyes for a few seconds, he stood up and went to look in his bag and looked at the hour on his phone. Eleven twenty four pm. It started at one am. He had enough time to freshen up. And so he went out, his blazer on his shoulder walking under the moonlight after putting the key in his pocket.

Home sweet and dearly home. It wasn’t much, just a simple black and white apartment with hints of deep navy blue. Hanging his blazer on the hook present on the back of his door. A soft creature came, rubbing against his legs, calmly purring.

-Well hello Plato..

The cat answered with a soft meow as Logan gently patted his fluffy cream fur which composed the majority of his body. The face, tip of the tail and paws being darker, almost black, but the cherry on top was the two icey sapphires eyes, as cold as his master’s. Only the hue was different, Lo’ having more greyish eyes. Speaking of the devil, he walked up to the living room connected kitchen, taking out a can of cat food to pour it into one of his little fuff ball’s bowl then filling the second one with water.

-There you go, you cuddle head.

Question remained, why would someone who struggled with money have a pet ?

Logan was always in control, trying his best to think about the most logical and brainey solution to a problem or way to improve his life, but even he could not just walk away from a crying kitten under the rain. He remembered the day. He was still a college student, his life was a wreck, a twelve sided Rubik’s cube with the colors constantly changing every single time he moved them. It was the same period he decided to close himself off and focus on school work but even he couldn't stay unmoved by a crying dirty kitten under the rain.

He smiled thinking about it again, all the nights worrying about Plato, putting him in his sweater while he was studying just to keep him by his side, all the books he read to learn how to properly take care of a cat, all the scratches he got, but also all the kisses and head rubs. Logan absentmindedly looked at the clock. Almost midnight.

-Shit.

Who thought he could lose himself thinking about how much he loved his companion ? Now he had to be fast. He’d usually take the time to enjoy the warm water on his skin, usually hugging himself in the process, trying to emulate the feeling of a long lost embrace, but now it was pretty late. He needed to go. Where ? Well his side job. Logan quickly dried his dark chestnut hair before putting on an elegant uniform. A white shirt buttoned to the top under a navy vest and a pair of jeans. Simple but efficient. Just like he always did.

The dark haired man arrived in front of a bar’s backdoor. Just on time after a really painful sprint considering he wasn’t the athletic type. He entered and went to the changing rooms, just to put down his bag and finally go to work. That was the program, but apparently the strawberry blonde seemingly pissed man bursting in. Only a thought crossed Logan’s mind “Oh for fuck’s sake.”.

-Oh my god Lo’ you’re here i thought i’d never see the light of day !

-..Pretty normal considering it’s past one am. -Now calm down. i’ll make you a quick drink and look for your gloves, your makeup is perfect. Just go sit down.

He walked towards him clutching his arms, the barista cringed at the contact but kept a straight face before finally realising that his friend was in a long cherry red all sparkly dress and same colored heels.

-You got a representation tonight Roman ?

-Yes and it’s an ever-loving catastrophe ! I can’t close this fucking -but amazing- dress by myself, i don’t know where my gloves are and i start in five minutes ! Jesus, am i sweating ? Am i sweaty ? Is my makeup dripping ?

The usual scenario, Logan sighed before kindly pushing his friend away and turning him to, first of all, close the dress, having to stand on his tiptoes to reach the end. Roman was already a bit taller than him, but with those heels, phew, how could he even walk in these ?

Such a drama queen. Literally and mockingly. He tapped the performer on the back before straight up going to his dressing room, the gloves were just here, sitting on the edge of the mirror. Pretty sure Roman missed them because of his stress. He then went to the bar, discreetly pouring him a bottom of whisky and coming back with the two items. Blondie jumped on his heels to hug him again, making his poor friend spread his arms to avoid damaging the gloves or spilling the drink before giving them after the embrace.

-You are a lifesaver you nerdy coffee man !

-Don’t mention it. I have to get working, good luck.

Finally. Putting on a black apron, he came behind the bar and started serving the clients. Tonight was going to be busy. Why ? Well, Roman was performing, his angelic sultry voice brought everyone in. The lights dimmed in the club, only the stage was illuminated. The singer walked in, projectors reflecting against his strass covered dress and gloves. Claps and whistles welcomed his grand entrance as he took the microphone, glazing over the room. Logan gave him a nod and a thumbs up to encourage him. The instrumental started to play.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_LqbV36OhtQ&ab_channel=CalebHyles

Where have you been? Been searching all along Came facing twilight on and on Without a clueWithout a sign Without grasping yet The real question to be asked Where have I been?

The tone always sent chills down Logan’s spine. He often heard him sing, but he could never not be surprised by his talent. He forgot himself, slowly breathing, calmed by the jazzy tone of the song. Forgot himself so much that he didn’t notice the new customer sitting at the bar and calling him for the last few seconds. The barista shook his head and turned, starting his usual pitch… -Sorry for that. What can i… ...only to be met with the amber gaze of a familiar face. The man of this morning. What was his name again ? Janice ? Janelle ? Jamil ? Logan’s eyes became cold and stern again, along with his voice. -..serve you. -Looks like i was right. You’re not as boring as you seem to be. -Do you want to drink something ? I have other clients. The man in the melon hat turned his head left and right with a smirk. He was the only one sitting at the counter. -A Snakebite, if you know how to make it right. Logan raised a surprised eyebrow. It was literally two ingredients. He was clearly mocking him. Without a word, he took the honey flavored whiskey and lime juice and put them in the shaker with some ice before energetically, well,shaking it and straining it in a shot glass, putting it in front of the snide individual then turning back to look at his friend. -Delightfull isn’t it ? I’ve rarely heard such a sultry and heavenly voice at the same time. -Well, it is Roman. They looked at each other for less than half a second before having their attention taken by the singer. Roman got compliments and flowers thrown at him at the end of his performance, and after some quick talk with fans, he sat down at the bar, sighing happily. -Damn that felt good ! Sooooo~, how are my two favorite boys doing ? Logan seemed surprised and pointed the curious man.

-You know him ?! -Yeah of course you dummy dumb ! I was the one who gave him your cafe’s address ! Ain’t he the loveliest ? -My my, thank you Romie, you’re going to make me blush. His eyes were still on Logan, still mocking him, he could have sworn even seeing this snake of a man quickly stick out his tongue to taunt him. Well. Looks like this was going to be a long night.

--------------------------------------------------------------- Surprise surprise ! You probably realized by now that I was really inspired by the talented Caleb Hyles with his “Beneath the mask” cover for this song. I just love the atmosphere. Hope you lovelies enjoyed this piece of writing !

#sandersides #sander sides #sanders side fic #coffeshopau #coffee shop au #logan sanders #logan #roman sanders #roman #sides in dresses #humanau #sander sides human au #sandersidesau #sander side au #janus #sander side deceit #deceit #loceit

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uhxrp · 4 years

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member groups

these are open to interpretation. our site’s member groups include seven character groups as well as four side groups that we’ll give you the run down on just to keep everything transparent. something to remember for our character groups, however, is this: you have full power on which group your character falls into. we understand that characters, just like people, often fit into many different groups, and sometimes it’s hard to choose. because of this, we just ask that you pick the one that makes the most sense to you, the one that seems like the best fit even if they have qualities of other groups. basically, as long as you can rationalize it, we’re good. the choice is entirely yours.

Our member groups are as follows:

BLOOD MOON - #c991a1

the staff. this group is for the members of the site staff team.

this is a side group.

SOLAR ECLIPSE - #c99c91

the leaders. these are naturally commanding, self-assured, decisive characters. they are the 'leaders of the pack', so to speak. these are the ones to make the final decision. unfortunately, great power also comes with great sacrifice and these characters tend to be demanding, haughty, inflexible, intolerant, overbearing, and ruthless at times. these characters are the ones to make things happen, which can be good but leads to a power struggle between responsibility and power. these characters are leaders, but being a good leader means listening to the will of your followers, and the balance is not an easy one to master. still, those in this group are magnanimous, calm in stressful situations, and they inspire loyalty.

aesthetics. aficionado of history, badass in a nice suit, cunning concealed by painted lips, delighting in the waves, doves, eloquence, expensive watch, flash of lightning, flirtatious winks, force of nature, gets turned on by danger, high-rise buildings, juggling multiple events on their busy schedule with ease, lenny face, maintains order, most likely to be voted class president out of their peers, natural charisma, nightmare-filled nights, planes soaring through a cloudless sky, pretends they don’t have feelings but they do, proud arm around their lover’s waist, running on coffee, sees the world as a runway, staring wistfully from a balcony, strolling along the beach, strong handshake, technician on the piano, the sea washing their ankles, thrives on attention, thunder in their heart, unapologetically sexual, wants to be adored, your girlfriend thinks they’re attractive.

NEW MOON - #c9b991

the newbies. this member group is what we call our registering members, those who haven't been accepted yet. everyone will start off in this group.

this is a side group.

MOON MOON - #bec991

the forgotten. this member group are those who have been archived, but don't sweat it. we allow for character reactivation at any time, should the need occur.

this is a side group.

WANING CRESCENT - #a1c991

the artists. these are naturally creative, sensitive, and dexterous. these characters find the future and make it discoverable. they see the world as a place to build and admire. these are the artists, the entrepreneurs, the inventors. these are creative spirits with unique ideas, outlooks, and inspired souls. they can be artificial, moody, self-destructive, and flaky - but they can also be spontaneous, refreshing, and romantic.

aesthetics. always up-to-date on the latest technology, cool rain, cows grazing on a pasture, crafting masterpieces, dark eyes that penetrate your soul, devil-may-care smile, does it for the vine, downs glasses of wine as they relax with a scented bubble bath and netflix, files that under ‘fuck it’, fingers dancing across the keyboard of a laptop, folded maps, hand clutching a string of pearls, hoodies and sneakers, ink-stained hands, large chandelier with glittering crystals, long drives on the highway, loving and hating fiercely, marble and gold, neatly-organized music sheets, notebooks filled with poetry, paint brushes, paint coated boyfriend jeans, pictures of the sky while flying on a plane, resting bitch face, romance to realism, spontaneous road trips, will steal your french fries.

LUNAR ECLIPSE - #91c9b9

the inspirational. these are the optimists, those who are uplifting, motivating, and energizing without even trying. these are your visionaries, the people who turn terrible situations into manageable ones with ease. they reassure you, encourage you, and cheer for you on the sideline. but these aren't just side characters, these are the people who create revolutions. these people bring good intentions to life. these characters also have a strong downside though, often coming off as irrational and fanatical in their die-hard beliefs and own decided moral/ethic code.

aesthetics. blueprints for future projects, broad shoulders, cherry blossoms, clothes smeared with paint, coffee shops, colorful coral reefs, compass with a spinning arrow, cotton candy, even their muscles have muscles, fixing up a busted up car and giving it cool upgrades, flame burning in their eyes, fondness for diy projects, goes jogging in the morning, grocery shopping, handwriting that flows across the page, holding hands, knee high socks, leather jackets, love confessions, ma and pop diners, mood as ever-changing as the sea, nimble fingers playing the strings of a violin, owns several sketchbooks yet always yearns for more, puts googly eyes on everything, revolution in their kiss, secret daggers, sexual tension, spicy food, stirrer of passion, storm with skin , striking a match, stroking the soft fur of a cat, sweaty brow, the calloused hands of someone who knows labor, the roar of a motorcycle, the sea casting its spell, their heart pounding as their horse’s gentle trot speeds into a gallop, tousled locks, velvety singing voice that haunts your dreams, waves crashing against the shore.

WAXING GIBBOUS - #91bec9

the intellects. they question everything, they look at everything in a different way. they find themselves naturally curious, studious and academic not because they have to be but because they feel this undying need to be. they're analytical strong left‐brainers who question every reality of this world and pursue the answers endlessly. they're dependable while remaining independent, conventional but investigative. they can be arrogant, they can be reclusive, but they are beautifully brilliant.

aesthetics. a shy kiss on the cheek, a steamed up mirror, abs that can cut steel, ancient buildings, armor that intimidates, balls of wool displayed on shelves, big fan of logic, breathless laughter, campfires, can kill you with their brain, dipping your feet into a swimming pool, discerning gaze, eye for architecture, glittery eyeshadow, go-getter, hair done up, heads to the library often to research, loves brain teasers, matte nailpolish, modern buildings, natural lipstick, old books, owl perched on their finger, plays the sims for the sole purpose of building houses, pottery classes, quiet museums, rainy days, sharpened pencils, stargazing, stoic statues, storm clouds, studied the blade while everyone else was busy getting laid, sweaters in neutrals and cool colors, the glow of your phone at night, the patience of a lifelong teacher, the rooftop of a building, unreadable face.

BLUE MOON - #91a1c9

the unknown. this group is for those first viewing our site, our guests and potential new registers. this is the main look of our site, prior to becoming a newbie.

this is a side group.

FULL MOON - #9c91c9

the entertainers. they are built with more charm and charisma in one pinky than most others have in their whole body. these characters are naturally engaging, articulate, and expressive, often the people who keep the world turning by making it an enjoyable place to be. characters like these remind us what it means to be human and how to feel emotion. unfortunately, they can also be a bit arrogant because of this, as well as dramatic, demanding, and deceptive.

aesthetics. arrow to the heart, art galleries, bathing in the sunlight, beautiful cover of wonderwall, being made of gold, being the baby of the bunch, collecting vinyl records, creeping vines, drunk shitposter, glitz and glamour, grand opera houses, hanging out at music festivals with their friends, healing touch, inspiring loyalty, lives for the applause, masquerade balls, on their sixth glass of wine before you’ve even finished your second, playing multiple instruments, pouring champagne into flutes, probably has a tinder account, receiving a standing ovation, rich fabrics on dark skin, rolls of film, rose caught between their teeth, seductive smirks, shattered chandeliers with broken glass scattered across the wine-spilled floor, shunning lies, sleek-furred panthers, sleeps naked, smile mingled wrath, speaking in prophecies, sporting shades, stage productions, tasting like sunshine, the powerful urge to create, theater masks, turning the volume up, untamed curls, wild parties that last from sundown to sunup.

WAXING CRESCENT - #b991c9

the survivors. they can be forceful, but are loyal to a fault. these are the protectors, those born with determination in every fiber of their being. these characters don't know when or how to quit, always striving to be the best they can be in every aspect of their lives. problem is, these characters are often seen as brutally blunt, sometimes intimidating and hot-tempered, and nearly always unforgiving of mistakes, even when they themselves make them. these characters are people based on action, those who set goals and are always trying to move toward them. they can be persuasive or coercive, and sometimes find the balance between the two hard to find.

aesthetics. armed for battle, arrow hitting a target, bandages wrapped around bruised knuckles, blood on their hands and face, bonding while circled around a campfire, boxing gloves, curses under their breath, damaged goods, disheveled braid, exhausted, fear is a prison, fights against injustice, fist raised in protest, force to be reckoned with, freckles like constellations on their skin, gives piggyback rides, ignites revolutions, keen sense of a hunter, lying on the grass and staring at the stars, moonlight peeking through the shadows, more sensitive than what their tough shell will make you think, mother doe and her fawn, not being much of a people person, patience on 3%, piercing eyes, popping egos, protecting their kin, quiver full of arrows resting against the bark of a tree, red roses, running with wolves, scarred body, soft spot for children, the calm of the forest at night, the moon shimmering on a still lake, touches heaven and returns howling, wants to raise a dog with their significant other, warm hugs, well-worn combat boots, willing to fight the world for the ones they love.

WANING GIBBOUS - #c991be

the caring. their biggest battle comes in the form of service vs servitude, or the form of serving the common good vs losing their own power. these characters are naturally accommodating, compassionate caring, hospitable and altruistic. they are the ones who always takes care of you when you need it. they are dedicated in relationships, often coming off as the "mom friend" in their friend groups. on the opposite side, however, these characters can often be overworked, easily frustrated, and self-sacrificing. they are often prone to self-disparagement and can become a bit controlling. still, these characters are trustworthy, competent, warm individuals who often are just trying to help others.

aesthetics. being the mom-friend, can lift you and your friends, caring for someone, curls crowned with flowers, daisies dotted across a collarbone, dressed in silk and satin, fairy lights, field of flowers, flower in their hair, flowers kept in the pockets of overalls, flushed cheeks, folded pile of sweaters in warm hues, greenhouses, heart as strong as a mountain, hugs, laughter-loving, leaves rustling in the wind, picking fruit, playing in the snow, pulling out fresh-baked bread out of the oven and the smell wafting through the air, skin loved by the sun, smile that can bloom flowers, soil-covered hands, speaks to their plants, stalks of wheat, stargazing, staying up all night to talk to someone you like, sweet smiles, takes pride in their beautiful garden, the sound of a pen scratching against paper, travelling, twirling around in a pretty dress, values simplicity.

#unhxlyrp #groups #updates

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mirroralchemist · 4 years

Text

Untitled FFXIV Trash, a side story

Basically a crack sequel to pt.5. But it’s somewhat not crack? I just felt bad I did FIVE angst feels things so this was to lighten myself up. It was a stray shitpost idea that my WoL is so obvious in her feelings for Thancred and sorta oblivious to the others that Scions made bets on how it was gonna turn out.

I ran with it. Literally wrote this in two days so it’s not my best. When is anything ever my best tho? What is best loool

Stepping back into Mor Dhona always felt like a homecoming. Watching as the town goes about its daily business grounded me from where my travels took me. I gave simple nods in greeting as I headed for Seventh Heaven. The employees there gave me a short wave in greeting, having grown accustomed to my comings and goings of their establishment. I opened the door to the entrance of the Rising Stones, essentially home. It had appeared it was one of the lull times. Either people were out missions, or resting before the next duty calls them out. The others still unable to reunite the spirit with the physical and my subsequent journey to the First, it left a hefty role to fill.

It was comforting to see that everyone had filled that role readily.

“Eh? Ami?”

Tataru had noticed me standing at the entry. I made my way towards her, a small smile on my face. It had felt entirely too long since I had last saw her. Whenever I did have to travel back to The Source, it was never within the vicinity. The Lalafell scanned me up and down. Without a doubt, she was checking up on me.

“You’re finished with the business over there in the First? It didn’t seem terribly long since you left.” she asked.

She was kept somewhat abreast of the world I got summoned to, thanks to Feo Ul.

“Rifts are peculiar. It felt like I’ve been there longer. Anyway, I wouldn’t say finished but we reached a standing point so it was suggested I come back and report.”

“There’s a certain change about you from last we spoke.” she admitted, “But we can discuss the particulars later. I’ll get Krile and you can tell us everything.”

“You mind-,” I began, “you mind if we get some of your tea blend brewing. I miss it.”

She gave me the brightest smile.

“Of course Ami, of course.”

It only took a short while to summon Krile and with three cups of tea we secluded ourselves to one of the tables to talk. Mostly to recount my tales of dispersing the primordial Light from Norvrandt. I didn’t go too deep into the others personal growth along the way, just enough to satisfy that they too were safe given the circumstances. I could feel the relief as I gave this news. With the report now over it brought us back to the main issue at hand, getting the others back into their bodies. Krile sat thinking of all that was spoken. Soon she jumped off the chair and walked to the chambers where the Scions’ bodies remained in slumber.

“I suppose now is a time as any to check if there’s been any changes. You’ve given me a lot to process Ami, maybe I can take this knowledge for something.”

She closed the door and started to get to work, leaving Tataru and I. I stared at the door for a moment before focusing back on the tea in front of me. If I took any sort of lesson from all of this, it was to look at the present sometimes. There was nothing I can do but to wait. My eyes widened, suddenly remembering the package.

“Oh! Y’shtola wanted me to deliver this to you Tataru.”

I passed the pouch and sealed missive to her. She seemed surprised at the gesture but then grinned once she read the parchment. She gave me the strangest look.

“Well I’ll be damned.” she spoke in an awed whisper.

I tilted my head in confusion. Soon turning into a blush as she really looked at me. Scanning me up and down once again. I knew the last time we had met my hair was shorter, but it wasn’t a reason for her to look at me so intently.

Right?

“It seems I have a lot of collecting to do soon! Okay everyone, it’s over!” she shouted, “One won, plus a bonus of physical.”

I watched in utter confusion as the scions that were left went to our table and deposited gil into the pouch. With each one, they looked at me with a look of understanding and joy? I even received a few celebratory pats on the shoulder. It was a fast transaction; which I had expected no less from the woman who handles all our finances. But I still utterly confused.

“Um, Tataru?”

“Yees Ami?”

“Would you explain what that was?”

Tataru blinked. I blinked. She jumped back a bit in surprise. I was still confused.

“Oh, you had no clue. Of course you wouldn’t.” she mumbled, “If you did then this wouldn’t have happened. Oh dear. Promise you won’t be cross?”

“I cannot promise that, but I can at least not instinctively react until you explain.” I answered.

She twiddled her fingers before flashing me a cute smile, already a flag I probably was not going to like what I was about to hear.

“Humorous situation really. But we may hap bet on who it was you got romantically involved with?”

Wait.

I was still for a moment. My mind understanding the words she had spoken. I blinked slowly. Oh...oh. That told a lot really. I snapped my head up at her, full blush all over my bare skin.

“What! You bet on my personal life?”

“Don’t get cross!” she suddenly said, “I swear it was a jest at first! It was after we moved here, you retired early. Granted given how much you helped with the moving efforts. The rest of us had a small housewarming celebration. Few drinks and it boiled down to admiration of all you do. I swear you can never ever doubt how much you mean to people here.

Anyway! Talk passed around about how we never see you just enjoying yourself. It’s training this or duty that. Gods Ami, you’re an appealing young lass, you can afford to enjoy yourself. More drinks and we came upon a realization that you are not has hidden with your emotions as you seem. If we were honest even sober we can see how your eyes wandered to one in particular. It was quite the open secret that the gaze you held was amorous in nature. Except for the man himself, the daft fool. One would assume with how much he is seen with women he would know when one is-”

“Tataru, you’re deflecting.” I pointed out, sighing.

“Oh! Apologies. As I was saying, we had jest how long it would take for you to confess. Then someone asked to put gil down for it and that is how it started. Given how long it’s been since then we had quite a few takers and surprises when other players appeared. Once all of this calmed down I might take a trip back to Ishgard. Some of the residents there were quite adamant on Ser Aymeric. I had never seen a man so open in his affection for you and you just unknowingly dismissed them.”

I opened my mouth to say something. But soon closed it. I was unsure to feel insulted that my personal life seen in such a way or touched that they cared about me that much. I buried my head in my hands. For now, I just needed a moment to absorb all this.

“Ami, you’re okay?”

“A moment.” I responded, “It’s not exactly easy to get over the fact that everyone knew I had held such feelings for Thancred. For years.”

“More than that given those marks on the back of your neck.”

I slapped the back of my neck, wincing at the still tender spot. It had only been a few days since that night, places still sore marks are apparently still visible. On a related note, that means that at the very least, Y’shtola knew. I felt a small hand on my free hand. It certainly wasn’t how I wanted for this to pan out. I had deep inside knew that it would eventually be known, I hadn’t expected this soon.

“Who is the one who won?” I asked.

At that her face fell.

“...She didn’t put anything monetary down, but Minfilia always had a feeling it would happen. She desired for those two close in her life to find happiness. Just a passing coincidence if it happened with each other.”

I softly smiled at that. Minfilia, ever the optimist even when gone. I let out a small laugh which grew until small tears prickled at my eyes. I took a deep breath. I couldn’t be fully mad when they did not mean anything malicious by it. They truly were concerned for my being. I can deal with the inherent embarrassment with such an earnest concern.

“It’s only right that we take these earnings towards our coffers. Minfilia would want us to flourish with our eternal mission right?”

“Exactly.” she agreed.

We enjoyed our tea in mutual silence again.

“My ever inquisitive mind would like to know, was it all you imagined?”

I spat out my tea.

“Tataru!” I whined.

She laughed at my embarrassment. The Lalafell has quite a devious streak on her. But it was what I found endearing on her. I could talk to her as an equal, even indulge in idle gossip. As I wiped the spilled drink from the table, I felt my skin go hot again. The memories still fairly fresh on me.

“I-I” I stammered, “I don’t exactly have any other experience to base it off of. But it was fine. He was patient. I have no clue what exactly you want me to say to that?”

“More than that for sure.”

“You are a handful Tataru. I suppose that’s what endeared me to you. I’ll be staying for a little while, so maybe just maybe I’ll share more.”

#shit writing #writing things #fan fic #fanfic #fanfiction #fan fiction #FFXIV #FF14 #Final Fantasy XIV #Final Fantasy 14 #crack treated somewhat seriously #Tataru is like Go get laid #my wol is like damn u rite #mentioned Wol/Thancred #this is pure crack #and self-indulgent #don't judge me #I'll be back to angst in no time C:

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sincerelysamedt · 5 years

Conversation

Tag yourself (Good Omens Edition)

Houseplants: doing your best. actually really scared but trying, okay. still beautiful. bent not broken. label says "handle with care".

Cars: best thing ever really. quick and efficient but an actual travelling disaster. shitposts a lot but relatable and on point shitposting, ya know?

Books: soft and homey. low-key hoarder. no one touches your stuff. a real people person until there's actual people.

Swords: gets lost a lot and ends up in the wrong-right places. super special but always given up or given away. you are a gift that keeps on being re-gifted. deserves more appreciation.

Glasses: insert emotional trauma repression here. been through a lot. needs a nap. been through enough. trying to remain calm but flailing on the inside.

Crepes: everyone wants you. people would die for you. cross oceans and enter warzones for you.

Oysters: people go out for you then leave with someone else. always the third-wheel or matchmaker or the friend the couple met through. deserves a gentle romance.

Benches: seen a lot of shit. people watches. makes up stories for randos you see in public spaces.

Gazebos: the friend who always tells their friends to break up with their so cause they're problematic. thinks everyone deserves better. mom friends rolling eyes in exasperation.

Sidewalks: everyone's therapist. trying to solve the world's problems. sees through shit. i know you be back in his bed by nightfall, don't @ me with that i won't even think about you trash.

Bus: doesn't ask for directions even when on Mars. i know where i am going. you don't. carpool dude.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #a.z. fell #anthony j crowley

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queenofthelanternfish · 5 years

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Final thoughts on the update

I know everyone has conflicting opinions on how the video should be interpreted and that people are beginning to be upset over how people express said interpretations. I have expressed my own opinions on the video, and understand people view it differently from me and that people could be potentially upset by my opinions. I just want to put in my final thoughts on the video, to clarify how I feel about it and what I took away from it.

First and foremost, I said that this dream is caused by Nevy’s subtle manipulations, that she is exacerbating Gil’s feelings towards Odin. Just because I said she is exacerbating these feelings, doesn’t mean I invalidate the obvious signs of Gil developing a crush on Odin despite their less than desirable interactions. Gil is attracted to Odin, a theory I have LONG speculated would happen at some point in the comic, and although I am not a fan of GilOdin, I do not deny it will be a part of the story whether as one-sided or not. I don’t want anyone to believe I am invalidating any of the characters or their roles in the story. I have noticed some posts in the tag implying people to be homophobic for not viewing the video in a positive light, and that Gil’s feelings towards Odin are gross because he is a gay man.

As a bisexual woman in a same sex relationship, Gil’s attraction to the same sex aren’t an issue at all to me. My issue is that he is idolizing Odin into a person he isn’t in order to cope with everything he has recently lost. Odin is becoming a new objective for Gil to reach, as his dreams of becoming a doctor literally crumble in his dreams, Odin becomes the fresh, attractive new start Gil wants in life. The Odin in Gil’s dream is a literal prince charming archetype, adorned in diamonds, blues, and so polished he hardly even seems real. Gil is morphing Odin into a fantasy that would be perfect in his idealized perfect world, but the reality is that Odin, despite being an actual prince, is nothing like Gil has fantasized.

Gil has no idea who the real Odin is, and assumes Odin comes from a place of no hardships, assuming he must have had things easy in life as a heathen. The reality is that Odin is a real prince, and that it is not a glamorous title given the state of his planet, his people dying off, his parents dying, his sister’s disappearance, and his remaining siblings rejecting him.

My problem with Gil and his crush on Odin is that Gil has been quite hostile towards Odin, and hasn’t once bothered to get to know Odin and yet is having a romantic dream ABOUT Odin. Odin has been apathetic about Gil overall, with one attempt at trying to help Gil calm down, and Gil quickly souring the moment with his newly conflicted feelings about Odin. Overall, there wasn’t a lot going on between them, especially not anything positive. It kind of leads to believe that Gil finds Odin to be this sinful temptation due to their conflicting opinions and personalities, he finds him to be dangerous and exciting, an embodiment of sin rather than an actual person.

This is where Nevy comes in. Given her having the highest empathy among the demons, she can read Gil like a book, she knows Gil is developing a crush and can use this to her advantage to help Gil and herself. I do not doubt she genuinely loves Gil, but shows it in an unhealthy way, like a mother who hovers over her child and is codependent with. She will do literally anything to make Gil happy, and fabricate anything to keep Gil’s mind at ease. Her manipulating Gil’s dream to keep him happy makes sense for her character. Gil is her her favorite person, her only friend, and as such giving Gil romantic dreams to the tenth degree is not shocking.

It can be debated whether or not she is also doing this in order to get close to Pedri again. I like to believe she is, considering she said she will regain all that they (ie. Gil AND her) have lost. Nevy could know by now that Odin has Pedri because Odin triggered a feeling of love she once felt before. She knows Odin is special, and Gil liking Odin is advantageous for the both of them. To Nevy, this is a win/win situation she thinks will work out. However, Pedri has no interest in seeing Nevy at all, and Odin has not shown any interest in Gil. These factors could lead to a lot of potential issues in the story, and with Gil and Nevy being literal personifications of being envy, it will not end well for them no matter how hard they try to get what they want.

To end it all off, I just want to clarify that even though I don’t view this video as anything but ominous and am not a fan of the ship, I don’t invalidate the characters or their sexualities and I try to be as objective as possible when formulating interpretations, analysis, and theories. I put my personal opinions in when asked, or if I’m just messing around with a vent post or shitposting. I don’t care if you do not agree with my opinions, but I don’t want anyone assuming my morality over a fictional pairing.

#ava's demon #avas demon #gil marverde #nevy nervine #odin arrow

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dotsz · 5 years

Text

hey i finished my elmer’s glue fic i bet for the phight

@phandomphightclub dunno if you’re still active but here’s my bet lol fml

Empty. The room was empty.

Oh, sure, one could argue otherwise; literally speaking, the room was covered wall to floor in posters from various comic books, fanarts, certificates, and the such. Action figures littered every surface, and the camera set in front of the desk gave the impression of there always being an audience.

And yet.

It wasn’t so much the contents of the room but the atmosphere that made it feel so incredibly void of… happiness? No. Purpose. Maybe. Even the word felt empty.

Butch sighed from his place on his seat. He looked into the camera, the lenses reflecting his own mournful face back at him, and a cold pit grew in his stomach.

“What am I,” he said, “but a puppet in this madness? This simulation? This… this reality, it’s… it’s falling apart.” He put his head in his hands, inwardly cursing himself for how his shoulders shook. “Oh, Lord, it’s all falling apart.”

All this efforts to create something for this bland world, all the years of pouring his heart and soul into his work… was it for naught? Did they truly detest him so? What did he ever do to deserve such torment?

Deep in the recesses of his mind, a dark voice slithered through. But you didn’t really do anything! it whispered. Your show only did well because of the concept; still people fight you on it, tell you what you could do better, yet you refuse to open your mind and accept criticism-

“Silence yourself,” Butch murmured fiercely. “I am not weak. I don’t listen to those who are less than me.”

But are they really less than you? it cackled. What if you are the one in the simulation? The dream? The nightmare? What if they are telling you to wake up? What if your masterpiece is really the key to your salvation, not theirs?

“That doesn’t even make any sense.” Butch stood abruptly from his chair, and the screech it made as it slid across the floor caused him to cringe almost as much as the phandom while watching Livin’ Large. “I created their childhood. Without me, they would not exist. I shaped their very souls.”

Is that the truth? Or simply your over-inflated ego?

“Who even are you?” Butch whirled around to face his wall of fanart, which had not been updated since, like, 2015. “What business do you have to be in my mind, speaking poison into me?”

I am your insecurities.

“Impossible. I have none.”

Let me clarify, said the voice. I am the insecurities created out of your show. The creation of Danny Phantom came with sacrifice; it came with the knowledge that despite your initial ideas being of interest, your writing and unwillingness to stray from your narrow-minded beliefs of what cartoons are to be caused the show to inevitably fall into mediocrity.

“Hey-”

The inspiration of superheroes, woven into a twist of a child’s secret identity stemming from keeping themselves safe rather than those they love, coupled with the allure of ghosts in a small, eerie town, as well as relatable and well-written depictions of teenage characters, could’ve made the show to be a legend, revered, given much more than two seasons plus one half-assed excuse for a season and conclusion.

“Are you done yet?” Butch asked irritatedly, an ache beginning to form between his eyes. He didn't have time for this. He didn’t have much time for anything, it seemed, what with Oaxis needing more support and his fans letting him down… he was always being let down…

Stop whining, the voice snapped. Anyway, as I was saying: if Danny Phantom had been given the same treatment as other popular cartoons, like Gravity Falls, the creepiness would’ve fit its child-like innocence enough to give it the right kind of feel people were hoping for when you put ghosts and superheroes together. Truly, I pity you. You could’ve done something great.

“Stop…” Butch groaned. His head pounded, his hands shook, and every inch of his body tried its hardest to go against the thoughts that had begun to enter his brain. His - no, it was no longer his - fandom had grown into a phandom, solely for the show, leaving his ideas behind for “better” ones of their own. And when he demanded answers, they only laughed in his face… is this what he’d become? A laughing stock? An example of everything he’s ever hated?

This simulation of life was created for us to give, the voice said, sounding much more sympathetic. But they’ve done nothing but take from you.

“I…” Butch gasped, fell into his chair, stared into the camera. Soulless lenses.

Isn’t it your fault, though? You pushed them away, didn’t you?

Black spots danced before his eyes.

You false god, said the voice, and Butch lost consciousness.

He swam in darkness for what felt like eons. Bursts of light and noise every so often tore through the veil in front of him; he heard whispers from years past, mutterings of guacamole and a red-head background character, the phrase Phantom Planet’s Not Canon Fuck You; he saw lists of dissection fics and metaphysical hang-out spots at Denny’s, accusations of diaper fetishes… finally showing his ridicule after announcing Oaxis, the way they slandered him.

This was his legacy being shown.

Butch groaned. Something soft remained under him.

“Oh, good, you’re awake,” said a voice to his right. Familiar.

He opened his eyes, slowly, pushing through the heaviness, black spots receding to the corners of his vision. He took a moment to recognize he still sat in his office, only this time on a small couch by the corner.

“Here, drink some water,” said the same voice. Butch turned his head to look-

And froze.

It was him. It looked like him. Same strong jawline, luscious locks of dark hair, broad shoulders and tight-fitting shirt that stretched over his toned physique; same deep, soulful brown eyes, a charming grin showing perfect, pearly-white teeth.

It was like looking into a mirror.

The other him grinned wider, holding out a cup of water. “Here, drink up.”

As if on autopilot, Butch reached forward and took the glass out of Other-Butch’s hands. Their fingers brushed, and something akin to electricity traveled up his arm and into his chest, warming him up from the inside, making him gasp. With shaking hands, he gulped down the cold drink and shivered at the chill.

“What was that?” Butch choked out, staring at the perfection that was his face - on another body, yet so incredibly familiar he had no choice but to feel calm, secure, happy.

Other-Butch laughed, booming and infectious. “Oh, you took a nasty fall, all right. Don’t worry, the voice in your head won’t come as long as I’m here.”

“Alright?” Butch paused. “Who are you?”

“I’m you,” said Other-Butch simply. “Well, not exactly; I have my own thoughts and feelings too, of course. But I’m still you. Same memories.”

“Same name?”

“Butch Hartman.” Other-Butch smiled softly as if he were revisiting an old nostalgic memory. “But you can call me Elmer, if it’s too confusing.”

“Elmer.” Butch tried the name on his tongue - it fit. “I haven’t heard that in years.”

“It’s pretty old, isn’t it?” Elmer sighed, leaning forward. His biceps flexed as he wrung his large hands together. “Butch, do you remember the Golden Days?”

“The what?”

“The Golden Days.” A ghost of a smile. “Back when everyone loved your show. I mean, they still do, but they respected it back then. Loved you. Your ideas.”

“I…” Butch closed his eyes. “Yes. Yes, I do. Good times.”

“I remember your - our passion,” Elmer continued, his voice dripping with wistfulness. “And now? What now?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re giving up,” Elmer said, his tone suddenly sharp.

Butch snapped his eyes open to stare at Elmer. His jaw jutted out defiantly, his eyes smoldering, looking into his very soul. For the second time today, Butch shivered.

“You can’t give up, not now,” Elmer continued. “What about Oaxis? What about the children? You’re making the future, Butch.”

Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. Butch sniffed angrily - he, crying? The almighty Butch Hartman? No, he would not stoop to such low measures. “The phandom-”

“Those little shits know nothing of what you’ve accomplished,” Elmer hissed. “All they’re good for is making bad shitposts and hurting your canon. What happened to ‘You can’t bring me down,’ to ‘Criticism only makes me stronger?’ What happened to the Butch we know?’

Butch stayed silent.

“You can’t give up.” Elmer grabbed his hand, brought it close to him. Butch gasped at the energy flowing between them. “You can’t.”

And through his doubt, a pinprick of light shone through; a small bit of passion broke through, then multiplied, flooding his veins and swelling his heart as he fell further into the electricity Elmer brought him.

Butch grinned, reminiscent to his old bravado. “You’re right.”

Elmer mirrored his grin. “I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

“You will?”

“We can do this together,” Elmer said, his eyes wide and open. Butch leaned into him, the two embracing, gasping at the energy coursing through them. Yes, this was meant to be. They were meant to be.

And whatever happened, Butch knew he’d be ready. With Elmer by his side.

“We can fix this simulation,” Elmer whispered hoarsely into his ear. “Together. Like glue.”

And Butch said, “Okay.”

And together, they created.

#fuck! i can't believe i wrote this #tears are streaming down my cheeks i hope yall are happy #phandom phight club #elmers glue #birch tree fartman #phicc #danny phantom #bet

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cavaliant · 5 years

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I was just on semi-hiatus, but I’m probably gonna remain low activity/not online much beyond the occasional shitpost for a while ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The family situation seems to be calmed down now, though I’m not with my extended fam overseas atm so idk how they’re really doing. From the messages my aunt has been sending me, they seem to be ok for now, though they do have to follow a lot more mourning traditions for my grandfather, and also for Ghost Month.

I’d like my family here to enjoy the (actual) vacation coming up as a break from the hecticness that was the last yeeting over the sea. A lot went on in the past month or so and I haven’t really felt like socializing online, or doing threads/conversations either IC or OOC, on Tumblr or off.

Thank you to everyone who has been supportive of me in this time.

#everyone's muse is dead except for beo shitposting energy #gdi beo #personal///#out of thunder #death mention #packing clothes without any red yellow orange or pink is harder than expected lmao #me @ me why u gotta own so many clothes with even a tiny speck of red #(i'm supposed to wear dark colours and or white until sometime in sept)#it's a good thing i own so many black work clothes lol #esp bc i've been trying to cram more hours in

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thesnapewecandreamof · 5 years

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500 Followers!!!!!

So I was still working on the continuation of my 400 follower fic thing and then I saw I reached 500 and I never imagined so many people would like the shit I write in this hell site. I never knew there were so many people in the Snapedom! I cannot keep up with you people(don’t stop tho, I love the attention) Let’s all raid Gringotts together!

Just a warning, this is super AU. Things will be altered to suit the plotbunny’s my crazy vision. VERY OOC!

The Little Prince

- Tom met a little boy in Hogsmeade when he was in his seventh year. The boy was runty, dirty, and had a thick accent.

- The boy was intelligent though and while Tom was enjoying his christmas break shopping in Diagon Alley when suddenly this little boy who was barely five years old pick-pocketed him. He followed the boy and watched him exchange the sickles for some bread.

- He caught the boy just as he finished eating the bread. The boy was frightened, Tom could smell his fear. To his surprise the boy squared his shoulders and took out the change he had from buying the bread. The impish little smile looked almost genuine.

- He learned that the boy preferred to be called Sev. Tom called him the little Prince. Sev laughed and wouldn’t explain what was so funny.

- Tom said that he was only staying until boxing day, then Sev would need to find another poor shmuck to pick-pocket. Sev assured him that it was alright, his parents would hardly notice his absence.

- Tom didn’t ask about his parents and Sev didn’t ask why a student was renting out an inn for the holidays.

- Tom caught Sev reading one of his not for children books and was quite cross. Until he saw the genuine interest Sev had for the Dark Arts.

-Sev had a nightmare about his father. His muggle father. Tom felt awkward holding the boy but maybe this could be some foundation to a relationship he can use in the future.

- Sev was scarily good at cooking. Tom wondered just where he learned and why someone as young as him would need to know.

- He was scolded by Sev when he accidentally tried to make dinner.

- Tom felt something in his chest. He wasn’t quite sure what it is.

- He was surprised when Sev gave him a handsome looking wand-holster. He gave Sev a nice slytherin scarf.

- Sev never knew just how dark Tom was. The boy saw his temper and Tom looked for him for three hours until finding him in a dark alley. Tom was not sure what he felt but he didn’t want to feel like that again.

- Sev liked to delve in the dark arts but the boy was not dark, of that he was certain. Tom often wonders if the boy’s smiles were fighting the darkness in Tom’s own heart.

- Tom was practicing some curses and Sev was watching. The boy was asking so many questions. They had a fight. Sev was pulling him away from the dark arts and Tom thought that he was getting weaker. They barely spoke to each other until Tom had to go out.

- During one of his shadier ventures, Severus followed him. Aurors surrounded the area. His hooded figure hid his identity, spells were cast and he saw Sev hiding behind some crates. The aurors looked at where he was looking and fired a spell thinking that it was one of his associates.

- There was a bright light and they were all blinded. When he opened his eyes, he saw that the crates were gone along with Sev. What remained were ashes and scorch marks.

- Tom burned the guardianship papers in the inn. He burned many things before returning to Hogwarts.

- After his many horcruxes, he looks back and wonders if the boy was just a hallucination his mind just created.

xxxxx

- Severus was never sure what happened during the short few weeks his mother insisted he spent in bed struck by a magical illness. He woke screaming and it took his mother quite awhile to calm him.

- He never knew where he got the green scarf that was tucked under his bed.

- Severus wondered who that older boy in his hallucination was.

- He could never explain why he felt something about the Dark Lord.

- He could never explain why he somehow felt he trusted the Dark Lord.

- Voldemort learned of the half-blood prince and he felt something he couldn’t quite name. He almost didn’t want to give Snape the mark, almost.

- Betraying Voldemort felt like he was betraying an old friend. He has come to accept that Voldemort was no longer the man he thought he knew.

- Voldemort wasn’t exactly sure why he spared Severus after arriving from his resurrection late. The man claimed to be a spy for the light but there was just something about the boy that was familiar. Something in his torn soul pleaded not to kill Severus.

- When he killed Severus, the little part of his soul cried out. He regretted it. He remembered a little boy being reduced to ashes and he wasn’t sure why he remembered a hallucination when he has just won the ownership of the most powerful wand.

- When Harry Potter revealed that Severus was a spy all along. Somewhere deep down, Tom knew that Severus was never truly dark.

- Tom wonders if the Sev from his hallucinations was related to Severus Snape. That maybe the boy who barely reached his hip, with hair as dark as the night, and wit as sharp as a blade was still somewhere in the world.

I’m not sure where this came from. This was supposed to be about smol Sev and young Tom about trying to bake a cake and other cute stuff. But that didn’t happen. I can feel some metaphor hanging from this thing that even I can’t understand. Damn you plot bunny!

Anyway, this thing started as a shitpost or something because my blog is riddled with angst right now and I thought I’d just whip out things like how when they reached 500 NEWT graduates, the alumni organized some sort of party where everything is 500 themed. They invited Snape despite agreeing not to because why not? Flashforward and there’s a big party and Snape did find that obscure karaoke place and he sees former students singing “And I would walk 500 miles, and I would walk 500 more!” at the top of their lungs and was that Minerva he saw leading that out of tune group? There was a hush where everyone thought he’d be angry and suddenly they all felt like students again but he shows them who’s boss in the karaoke and belts it out. (They may or may not have made a parody of seasons of love, but I suck at rhymes)

Yeah that didn’t happen. My thoughts were hijacked by a plot bunny and here it is, it’s not really a fic but eh. It’s another WIP.

#severus snape #pro-snape #tom riddle #voldemort #500 follower fic #au #very au #damn plot bunny!#am i going crazy?#maybe

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chonkychungus · 6 years

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Virtue’s Grace

“We are the sum of our deeds, not our names.”

The Basics ––– -

NAME: Ceciel James Ashmore

TITLE: Virtue’s Grace // Duke of Ebonbrooke Hollow // Wrynn Bannerman

AGE: 28 Years

BIRTHDAY: October 9th

RACE: Human

GENDER: Male

SEXUALITY: Heterosexual

MARITAL STATUS: None

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single

Physical Appearance ––– -

HAIR: Blonde

EYES: Azure

HEIGHT: 6′1

BUILD: Fit

DISTINGUISHING MARKS: None

TRP Excerpt: Gold, shoulder-length hair, often swept behind each ear, complement the steel blue eyes which lend a poised gaze. Sculpted brows, creased with furrowed lines, conjunct with a characteristic scowl to perpetuate a stern and arduous aura; a defined look that seldom earns him the unwitting company of chatty strangers. Trimmed, blonde hair coat the margins of a stiff frown that plasters full lips, his well-kept beard continuing along the contours of a square jaw. High cheeks and a slender nose mark the fair-skinned visage, and though a reserved penchant broods from his stoicism, the gregarious and ephemeral smile is a rare bounty given to intimate company. A straight posture and broad shoulders carry weathered armor the paladin is seldom seen without. Worn pauldrons and a scratched breastplate, polished to an immaculate luster, bear black and gold motif alongside twin sigils of the Silver Hand. Steadfast gauntlets, fastened to the forearm, shield each finger with segmented plates of steel coupling the thick underside leather. The burden of each heavy sabaton, along with the combined weight of the entire suit of armor, herald the slow footfall carried by a proud, purposeful stride Ceciel holds.

OCCUPATION: Paladin of the Silver Hand

PERSONALITY TRAITS: Candid // Reserved // Temperamental

LANGUAGES: Common

RESIDENCE: Ebonbrooke Hollow (Elwynn)

BIRTHPLACE: Ebonbrooke Hollow (Elwynn)

Relationships ––– -

SPOUSE: None

CHILDREN: None

PARENTS: Garland James Ashmore (father; deceased) Julia Ashmore (mother; deceased)

SIBLINGS: None

OTHER RELATIVES: None ( I am open to suggestions for pre-established relationships )

ACQUAINTANCES/FRIENDS: Lady Strixena Draconis ( @strixena ) Lady Valerie Shadebrook ( @valerie-shadebrook )

PETS: Archer (picture) Bron (picture) Heiress (picture)

Traits ––– -

extroverted / introverted / in between

disorganized / organized / in between

close minded / open-minded / in between

calm / anxious / in between

disagreeable / agreeable / in between

cautious / reckless / in between

patient / impatient / in between

outspoken / reserved / in between

leader / follower / in between

empathetic / unemphatic / in between

optimistic / pessimistic / in between

traditional / modern / in between

hard-working / lazy / in between

cultured / un-cultured / in between

loyal / disloyal / unknown / in between

faithful / unfaithful / unknown / in between

Additional Information ––– –

SMOKING HABIT: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

DRUGS: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

ALCOHOL: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess

A veteran of the Northrend campaign, the reclusive lord is the remaining heir to a forlorn legacy tied to the Ashmore name. Temperamental and slow to trust, the furtive paladin is oathbound to the greater realm, his own kin, and the cocoon of flaws that mark his character. Prone to the traps of a reluctant soul pushed into adversity by the hand of fate, the Duke of Ebonbrooke Hollow seeks to ensure the longevity of his charges with the weight of differing obligations taxing both his mantle and his incorruptible faith.

I did a thing. Despite all the memes, shitposts, and the dog/cat posts, this is indeed an RP blog and I finally gathered the will to put something together. I hope to provide a more robust view of my character and encourage more interaction. I’d certainly welcome other PALadins to come fraternize with him. He IS a noble, his small House specializing in the modest export of lumber, ore, bred hunting hounds ( thanks to @adilynia for this suggestion), and the means to sponsor small IC businesses, and as such any sort of IC connections are entirely welcome.

Thanks for reading, and I hope my character catches everyone’s interest! All artwork depicted here is done by me.

#WoW Character #wyrmrest accord #Ceciel James Ashmore

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champhangman · 7 years

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Reckless - Part 16

Part 16/??

Characters: AJ Styles, OFC, Baron Corbin

Summary: The newest woman on the roster finds herself making waves she never intended to, with men that are both off-limits to her.

"Kimmy?"

She released the breath she'd been holding, lungs stuttering. Gripping the edge of the sink, she stared at the obnoxious purple and white stick with its digital readout. It began to move out of her view and it wasn't until it disappeared completely that she realized Baron had stepped up behind her. She could hear him breathing. Could hear the whisper of every movement he made. She could even hear his fingers against the plastic of the test stick. Lifting her head, she looked at him in the mirror while he looked at the test.

Then, she heard nothing but silence.

Closing her eyes, Kim lifted her hands to cover her face. The test clattered in the sink then his hands were on her shoulder, turning her to face him. Pressing her face to his chest, she remained stiff while he murmured softly against the top of her head.

"It's okay, it's okay."

Except it wasn't. She began to shake her head, pushing away from his offer of comfort. "No," she murmured, trying to suck in a proper breath. "It can't be."

"Baby—"

"I can't be pregnant," she whispered, snatching the test out of the sink and carrying it into the bedroom. The instructions were on the dresser and she grabbed them, tried to read them carefully though her hand was shaking. She had done everything she was supposed to do. Why was the result the wrong one? "It must be a dud," she decided, barely noticing when Baron slipped the paper from her fingers. "That's it. It's a dud. A false positive. Maybe I didn't use the right amount of pee—"

"Kimmy. Baby. Stop," he said.

"How can you be so calm about this?" she asked, whirling to face him. "Why aren't you freaking out? This is the last thing we need or want right now! A baby changes everything, Baron!"

"Calm down." His hands were on her shoulders again. Gentle. Comforting. "Having a breakdown in the middle of the night won't do any good. Besides, it's not the end of the world."

"Not the end of the world? Are you insane?! It's the end of everything!" She shoved her hands into her hair, clutching, wondering how he could be so unconcerned. Then she understood. It didn't change anything for him. He could still go on as he had been. Could still climb into a ring. Could still travel the world. Could still follow his passion. Wrenching away from him, she bit down hard on her bottom lip. "I won't be able to wrestle again. I'll have to sit at home and get fat while you and everyone else gets to do the only thing I've ever wanted to do. And then I'll have to sit at home and take care of a baby. Because you know as well as I do that this company will forget about me while I'm gone."

"Kimmy," he sighed, shaking his head. He reached for her, then put up both hands when she took a step back. "It's a baby—"

"A baby," she repeated. A baby she didn't want. A baby she didn't need. A baby that would, undoubtedly, cause her tentative relationship with Baron to end. Promises or no promises, she knew he wouldn't stick around. A baby that would send her on another career path. She almost told him she didn't want the baby, but saying the words aloud somehow seemed more callous than just thinking them.

"A baby that we made," he said gently.

She wondered when, exactly. That first night when she'd given in and sought him out? Or the morning a few days later? She struggled to recall each time they'd had sex since getting back together. She hoped the conception had occurred during one of their gentler couplings. But knowing her luck, it had probably happened during a quickie against the door when she hadn't even had an orgasm. "Fuck," she muttered. "I can't do this."

"What do you mean you can't?"

"I can't," she stressed. "I can't have a baby. Jesus, I'm barely old enough to drink! How can I be responsible for another life?"

Baron's eyes grew cold. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

She blinked. She wasn't sure what he thought she was saying. But she had an inkling. And she supposed she was. But again, she couldn't say it out loud. Just like saying the word 'pregnant' aloud would make it real, so would saying that she was already considering terminating it. Staring at him, it dawned on her that he wouldn't want her to. He would want her to carry and give birth to and raise his child. Whether she wanted to or not. "I'm going for a walk," she blurted.

"Kimmy, we need to talk—"

"I can't. Not now. I just need some air."

"There's air here," he retorted.

"I need air without you in it," she clarified, hating how petty the words sounded. But they made him back away.

"Where are you going?" he asked while she retrieved her phone.

"Outside." She probably wouldn't walk far, if at all. She just needed a few moments to herself to let the news sink in. There were a million things she probably should do, but none that appealed to her. She wasn't keen on making a reminder to call her doctor in the morning for an appointment. She sure as hell didn't want to sit in the hotel room and act as though she were happy about the situation she was in. She had no desire to start looking up pregnancy facts or maternity clothes or baby items or any of the things that she assumed most newly pregnant women did.

She left the room, leaving Thumper asleep on the bed, and looked first one way then the other. Trying to get her bearings, she ventured left, unable to remember which way she and Baron had come from when they'd checked in. She didn't remember passing the vending and ice machines. Stopping just outside that door, she rubbed at her temples to ward off the headache she felt starting to brew.

"What's wrong, princess?"

The softly spoken words made her freeze. She slowly turned to face Corey slowly, wondering just where he had come from. She'd passed no one since leaving her room. She saw the ice bucket in his hand and glanced beyond him to the vending machines, connecting the dots in her mind. "Hey."

His brow furrowed. "You okay?"

She exhaled sharply. "I don't know."

Corey looked at her for several seconds, then tilted his head towards the end of the hall. "Come on."

"I was going outside for some fresh air," she said as she followed him into his room. The glow of the TV was the only light in the room until he switched on a lamp. She recognized the show playing two seconds before he turned the TV off, and sighed as she sank down on the foot of the bed while he disappeared into the bathroom

"What happened?" he asked when he returned. Unwrapping the complimentary glasses, he placed them on the dresser next to the ice.

She heard the cubes of ice clink against glass. Looking over, she watched him pour liquor into each, and accepted the glass he held out. She took a tentative sip. Scotch. "Nothing happened. I just needed air."

"There's air in your room," he pointed out, echoing Baron's sentiment.

"That particular air was smothering," she whispered.

He chuckled, ice rattling as he sipped his drink.

She thought of the last time she'd been in his room. The uncanny ability he'd had to help her forget everything. Before she could talk herself out of it, she blurted, "Could you do me a favor?"

"As long as it's not money or murder."

She rose to her feet. One more tiny sip of the scotch and she pushed the glass onto the dresser. Looking up at him, she moistened her lips. And wondered what shew as about to say made her. "Will you kiss me?"

"That's not a service. That's a privilege," he corrected. He set down his drink then his hand came up and gently cupped her cheek. "But why do you want it?"

She decided that she would think about his calling kissing her a privilege later. "Just kiss me so I can forget."

"What do you need to forget?" he whispered. He was guiding her backwards, and when she sank onto the bed he followed. His lean body covered hers, his inked arms holding him above her.

"Everything."

"Rough night, huh, princess?"

Kim nodded, vaguely wondering just how he had settled on calling her princess. Had anyone called her that before? She couldn't remember. "I'm just stressed, and I need—"

"You need a proper fucking that has you forgetting your own name," he finished with a knowing smirk. "But if all you want is a few kisses, I can do that too."

"You're such a gentleman," she muttered with a roll of her eyes, holding her breath when he brought both hands to cup her cheeks. She was reminded of the tenderness he'd shown before, and it was just as unexpected. She couldn't understand why he seemed intent on taking his time with her. Was it just a part of his sick game? But he appeared to enjoy dragging it all out, and not perversely. As though she actually was a gift that he was having fun unwrapping.

"You're thinking," he whispered, lips hovering over hers.

"I can't just shut my brain off," she groaned.

"Try," he breathed.

"I am."

"Don't lie to me, princess," he teased, giving her a brief kiss that left her wanting more.

"Wouldn't dream of it, prince," she returned. She laughed, surprising herself, when he groaned. Leaning up to initiate the next kiss, she finally allowed her hands to rest on his shoulders. They were bare, she realized, wondering when he'd taken off his shirt. Deciding it didn't matter, she trailed her fingers over his warm skin. As her lips parted all the problems and worries that had sent her from her room began to fade. By the time their tongues met they were gone completely.

"You taste so good," he whispered moments later, shifting so he fully lay between her thighs. A hand left her cheek and trailed down her side, fingers lightly tracing the outside of her breast before gliding down to grasp her thigh. "I can't wait to taste the rest of you, princess."

She tipped her head back, clutching at him as his lips found that spot below her jaw. Panting, she let her eyes drift closed, releasing a soft whine. She was getting warm. Could feel an ache for more than kisses and whispered promises start in her core. When he guided her leg around his waist she arched her back. Her fingers were dragging down his back before she knew it, then they were toying with the waistband of his pants.

"Fuck," he groaned, jerking his head up at the sound of an electronic jingle.

Shocked by how much she craved his hand on her when it left her thigh, she slumped, heart pounding furiously. She thought at first that it was her phone but recalled switching it to silent earlier in the evening. "Ignore it."

"Can't," he said, offering a quick kiss. He was as breathless as she, and she thought she detected a faint tremble in the fingers against her cheek.

"Please," she whispered, leaning up when he began to pull back. It occurred to her that she had, quite possibly, gone insane, wanting a man she disliked. But she held onto him, sitting up and shifting so she straddled his lap. His chuckle was low and he rewarded her efforts with another kiss. Encouraged, she moved her lips over his jaw, felt and heard him swallow as she nibbled at the side of his neck. "Don't answer it."

"It might be important," he said. He kept one arm around her waist, holding her to him while he reached for his phone. With one fluid motion he reversed their positions, guiding her to settle over him while he brought the phone to his ear. "Yeah?"

Kim shook her head in disbelief, certain the call wasn't important, then leaned down to continue her explorations. His one-syllable replies to whoever was on the phone showed no sign of arousal or even breathlessness, but she knew he was affected when his fingers dug sharply into her hip. She kissed a trail from his throat to his chest, heard him inhale as her lips brushed one nipple. His hand moved from her hip to the back of her neck, giving a reassuring squeeze, and she pushed her hair back so she could see his face.

Keep going, he mouthed, bucking his hips. His voice sounded normal, almost disinterested, as he continued his occasional replies. When she began to kiss lower, sliding back on his thighs, she felt his hand slide into her hair. With a gentle tug he had her looking to his face again. His abdomen rippled beneath her lips as he slowly released a breath. "Man, who ever knows with chicks? She's probably gone to one of the girls' rooms to have a bitch fest."

That gave her pause. Lifting her head, she gave him a questioning look, and missed the weight of his hand when it slid away.

"Well I sure as hell haven't seen her," he went on, leaning to grab Kim's phone from the bedside table. "Don't go waking up half the damn hotel looking for her. She'll probably text you that she's with Becky or whoever. She's not the type to let someone worry. Alright? Yeah… Talk to you later."

Kim sat up as he tossed his phone aside. Pushing her hair back, she took her phone when he shoved it towards her. She held her breath while sending Baron a vague text, not allowing herself to read the messages he'd sent her. Once she finished she lowered the phone. Corey took it from her and shoved it onto the nightstand with his. "Corey—"

He flipped her onto her back, catching her hands and stretching them above her head. "Two questions."

She gulped anxiously, not liking the darkness that was beginning to creep into his eyes. "What?"

"One, why the hell didn't you tell me you and him had a fight?"

"Saying we had a fight implies we shouted and threw things. It wasn't like that at all," she insisted, biting her lip when he pressed her deeper into the mattress. "It was just a disagreement."

"Fair enough." He leaned down, lips barely touching hers. "Two, do you like it from behind, being on top, or good old-fashioned missionary?"

"I—" She was silenced by his kiss. The hands trapping hers loosened, and before she knew what was happening she was being swept away. She assumed he was guiding their impromptu time together towards sex and only felt a little trepidation as he eased her top off. The anxiety eased at the gentle touch of his hands along her sides. Breaking the kiss, she gasped for breath. "Corey—"

"Answer the question," he murmured, leaning back.

"I don't know how I like it," she said after a moment. The ache was starting to wane and she wasn't sure how to react. The question had thrown her off, making her think. Which was the last thing she wanted to do.

"Come on," he said with a quick chuckle. "Everyone knows their favorite position."

"I like them all. There's not one that stands out as better than the others."

"Really? One doesn't make you cum harder and faster than the rest?" He traced a line from her throat to the waistband of her shorts. When she shook her head, he hummed thoughtfully. "What makes you cum the hardest? Oral? Fingering? G-spot?"

"I…" Her breath caught as his fingers swept from her shorts to the tattoo on her side. Why was he taking his sweet time? Her stomach twisted when it occurred to her that he was probably just toying with her. Was that his plan? Get her aroused and wanting him, then push her away?

"Talk to me, princess." His voice was as soft at the fingers tracing her tattoo.

"I've only had one g-spot orgasm. It was nice."

He exhaled a semblance of a laugh. Meeting her gaze, he lifted a brow. "Nice? Really? That's how you describe it?"

"I don't really remember anything about it except thinking how good it felt," she explained. Confused when he shifted so he lay next to her, she pressed her lips together to hold back a sigh.

Corey continued stroking her tattoo, occasionally allowing his thumb to sweep at the underside of her breast. "Did you feel like you were going to pass out?"

He asked so casually, while propped up on one elbow, as though they were discussing a movie or the best travel route to Atlanta from Orlando. Thinking back to the night before the Money in the Bank show, she chewed thoughtfully on her bottom lip. She had been so close to orgasm when Baron had flipped her. It had taken so long, at least to her, for her to get close again. And when she had… She shook her head. "No. It was just a lot of pressure and then…"

"Did you squirt?"

"A little. I think. I wasn't really paying attention to anything but how good it felt."

"Were you by yourself or with someone?"

Jesus. Next he would be asking if she'd recorded it so he could see for himself. "With someone. I don't… I mean, I have before, but I don't…"

"Masturbate?" he supplied

She felt her cheeks heat. Clearing her throat, she looked at the ceiling. "Yeah that."

"Why?"

"I've never… Well I have, but it's just not something I feel needs to be done. What about you?" she asked. "Do you masturbate?"

"Yes." He leaned close, thumb swiping over her hardening nipple just when his breath fanned her cheek. "I get myself off almost every day. Sometimes I watch porn. Sometimes I think about a former partner. And sometimes, I've thought about you."

"You jack off and think of me?" she whispered, not sure how to digest that bit of information. On the one hand it was flattering, but on the other… "What do you think about me doing?"

"I think about that night." He nuzzled the side of her face. His hand moved slowly until it cupped her breast, and when a moan escaped her he moaned, too.

She had to know. The waiting and wondering was going to kill her otherwise. Turning onto her side, she initiated a quick kiss, encouraged to let it linger when his hand cupped her cheek. Not thinking was nice, she decided. "Again still hasn't happened," she whispered once the kiss ended. Eyes meeting his, she idly traced the inkwork on his chest.

"It will." His fingers were a caress against her cheek, then swept along her jaw.

"When?"

One corner of his mouth lifted. "What, you expect me to make a date? Pick you up at your place and take you out to wine and dine you?"

She tried to imagine what a date with Corey would be like. All that she could picture was a jarring rock concert and a seedy tattoo parlor, so she shook her head. "I just want to know when. So I can be prepared."

His eyebrow lifted almost to his hairline. "Prepared? Tell me more, princess."

"Mentally prepared," she elaborated, rolling her eyes. "I'm not going to do anything special for you, trust me."

"You won't have to. I'm still planning that night out."

He kissed her again before she could reply, and by the time his lips moved from hers she was once more pinned beneath him and breathless. "What are you planning?"

"It's a surprise."

"I hate surprises," she muttered, pushing at his chest so she could breathe.

"How appropriate, considering you hate me, too."

***

The hallway was deserted when AJ left his room. Had the water from the tap in the bathroom not tasted putrid he wouldn't have left at all, but thirst drove him out. He decided as he made his way toward the vending machines that, since he was out, he should get a snack or two as well.

Not bothering to muffle his yawn as he waited for his drink to make its way out of the machine, he glanced over his shoulder at the sound of voices. Seeing no one, he shrugged and grabbed his drink. Was just opening it for a sip when he heard the voices again. He turned, certain he recognized one of the voices, and stepped into the doorway to see Kim stepping out of an open door at the end of the hall. A late-night girls' talk, he assumed, about to turn to get his snack when he heard a male voice. Curiosity had him leaning, just in time to catch sight of a tattooed hand on Kim's cheek. He instantly recognized the hand and, growing more curious, looked on while the two spoke to one another.

He was too far away to hear any definite words, but there was something about the situation that rankled him. There was something almost tender in the way Corey touched her cheek one more time before she stepped away from the door. She walked at a normal pace, and as she neared where he was AJ saw a familiar gleam in her eyes. Realizing that if he didn't speak she wouldn't notice him, he cleared his throat.

"You're up late, sweetie."

She jumped backward, lips parting and eyes widening. "AJ," she blurted. With a small, nervous laugh, she brought a hand to her chest. "You scared me."

"Sorry." He noticed that she glanced back to the room she'd just left. Her cheeks were flushed. It was close to the way Ajay and Avery acted when they'd done something and didn't want him to find out about it. What had she done to feel guilty over? "You alright?"

"I'm fine," she promised immediately. Her tongue darted over her lips. "What are you doing?"

He lifted his drink and took a sip. "I was thirsty."

"Ah." She rubbed the front of her neck and darted her tongue over her lips again. "I was just… Y'know, walking."

He hadn't seen her in the hall when he'd come out of his room. About to tell her so, he kept silent, getting a good look at her. Her lips were kiss-swollen. Her hair was slightly mussed. She'd been kissed, and recently by the looks of it. Was it just his imagination, or were her clothes rumpled? Like she'd just been… But that was impossible. She'd been talking to Corey.

Or had they been doing more than talking?

"You feelin' alright?" he asked, needing to change the subject.

Her face paled, and he would have sworn her complexion turned greenish. "I—Yeah. Whatever it was is gone now."

"Are you gonna go see a doctor?" Fearing she might vomit, he glanced to the ice machine to see if there were a spare bucket or two. When he looked back to her she was shaking her head.

She pressed her swollen lips together. "Not yet."

He looked beyond her, to the now-closed door. Dragging his gaze to her face, he saw she was glancing back as well. And when her eyes met his again he saw them flash with worry. He pressed his lips together. None of his business. No part of it was any of his fucking business. But, glancing at her kiss-swollen lips then to her tousled hair and rumpled clothing, he realized with a jolt how much he wished it was his business. He both recognized and loathed the jealousy he felt welling up within him. And before he could stop himself, he said, "I think maybe if you didn't wander around so late at night you'd start feelin' better."

#aj styles #baron corbin #aj styles imagine #baron corbin imagine #wwe #corey graves #wwe imagine #multipart:reckless

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awkwarddezzy · 7 years

Text

Ignite

Pairing: Dan x Phil

Genre: friendship, romance, slight angst

TW: swearing, mentions of alcohol

Word count: 7,494

Summary: Hawaii: the state everyone knows as paradise. For Dan Howell, the label is far from what his life is truly like. When Phil transfers to Dan’s high school from Manchester, the two boys instantly become friends. But will the revelation of Dan’s hidden past affect their budding friendship? Phan HS AU.

Hey ya’ll! This is technically my first fanfic posting of 2017, although I already had this written back in 2016. I mentioned a handful of times in tags for my shitposting that I wrote a Phan-inspired story as part of my short story portfolio for my creative writing class last semester. I submitted said story for possible publication at my college’s local journal, so cross your fingers with me that it’ll make the cut. I mean, can you imagine a phanfic legitimately bring published?

My professor absolutely loved the story. Even though it was over the word limit (she set it as 4,000), she told me she didn’t mind the word count as long as the plot was good. Needless to say, I got an A on it. Hell, when we had to type an analysis about our stories, I specifically mentioned being inspired by Dan and Phil and how homogenous relationships are often undermined in young adult literature.

I’m proud of this baby. Aside from character names (because I didn’t wanna plagiarize), this is nearly word for word of that story. I guarantee this is different than any phanfics ever to exist. One, because the setting is in Hawaii (our professor gave us extra credit if we tied our story to Hawaii in some way since I do go to a community college in Oahu). Two, to make it personal, I made my Dan-inspired character Filipino (because I’m Filipino myself) and kept my Phil-inspired character British. In short, this is my story using the YouTubers I had in mind while writing the story. It’s basically a high school AU, which I’m used to writing when it comes to AU’s.

I finally got around to posting this in light of Phil’s birthday. I CAN’T BELIEVE OUR BELOVED ANGEL BEAN IS FINALLY 30. *screams* He’s getting old. We’re getting old. Jesus Christ, Phil’s finally reached the age of parenthood. It’s only a matter of time when we see Phil Jr’s walking around England lol.

Now on with the story!

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

When people use fire as a metaphor for love, I roll my eyes and silently think these people are delirious. They think love is a burning passion they allow themselves to consume them completely. Or they think love is a spontaneous combustion when two pairs of eyes are caught in a lingering stare for the first time. But those are the fools talking. Those people are blind to what fire really means.

Fire is despising the source of its ignition.

Fire is a glow you believed had completely faded, yet still remained raging within you.

Fire is a curse and a traitor, yet also a blessing and a helping hand.

Fire is what makes me fluctuate between being a dreamer and a realist.

~:~

He’s a needle in a haystack with his raven hair, cerulean eyes, and pale skin. The cafeteria is swarming with incoherent conversations between students coming in and out of the stuffy building. I stand stock still, lunch tray in hand, debating whether or not I should go talk to him.

My feet move toward the boy with no hesitation. He stares intently at me when I place my lunch tray on the table’s wooden surface and sit on the benched seat across from him.

We remain silent for several seconds before I blurt out, “I like your shirt.” He’s wearing a white t-shirt embedded with lyrics from a Panic at the Disco song.

“You like PATD?” His voice carries a heavy British accent.

“One of my favorite bands.”

A corner of his mouth curves slightly upward. “What other bands are you into?”

“Ummm… Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, All Time Low, Breaking Benjamin, Muse-”

“Whoa there. What are you, some Asian clone of me?”

I chuckle. “No, but that would be pretty epic.”

He grins. “You’re the first person I’ve ever met who know Muse.”

Warmth seeps to my cheeks. “They’re one of the first bands I got into. I have a soft spot for their Origins of Symmetry album.”

“No way! That’s my favorite album too.”

I beam. Going to meet up with my friends doesn’t seem like a priority anymore. “So how come I’ve never seen you around?”

He picks up a carrot stick, dipping it into the blob of ranch dressing on the top right corner of his lunch tray, then taking a bite out of it. “I moved here from Manchester a couple weeks ago. You know, for a place where everyone want to vacation, it’s way different when you’re actually living there.”

“That’s paradise for ya. Tourists get beaches, fine accommodations, and hot hula girls. Locals get Pidgin, spam musubi, and a complex bus system.”

“I’m out of my element here.”

“You’ll learn to adjust.”

He finishes the rest of the carrot stick. “I’m Phillip by the way, but you can call me Phil.”

“Phil… got it.”

“Uh-huh. My entire first name makes me sound like a grandpa.”

I laugh. “You’re gonna be a grandpa someday anyway.”

“Hey, I’m still young! Lemme enjoy my teen years while I can.”

“Sure, Phillip.”

He sticks his tongue out to me playfully. “And what should I call you, Phil 2.0?”

“Well Mr. PATD, you can call me Dan. It’s short for Daniel.”

“Dan.” My name rolls off his lips in a way that sounds as if he has known me for years rather than a few minutes. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Perhaps the school year won’t be as boring as I thought it would be.

~:~

Sam, Louise, and PJ bombard Phil with questions when I introduce him to them after school that same day.

“What’s England like?”

“How do you like Oahu so far?”

“Have you tried a malasada yet?”

“What do you think about our school?”

“Why did you move here?”

“Have you ever met Emma Watson?”

“Guys! Geez, calm your tits.” I look toward Phil apologetically. “Sorry. We don’t get to meet a lot of new students who come from outside the island.”

“It’s okay.” Phil smiles shyly at my friends. “No one’s really tried to talk to me for more than two minutes till Dan approached me. I was afraid I’d be a loner for the entire year.”

PJ whistles. “Damn, Daniel. What happened to being antisocial?”

“I prefer the term introvert,” I retort.

“You haven’t made the first move in anything since you told Sam how you felt about her,” Louise says.

Phil glances between Sam and me. “You two are boyfriend and girlfriend?”

Sam loops her arm around my elbow, pressing her chest against the side of my body. “As of a couple weeks ago, yes.”

“I didn’t know that,” Phil says, giving me a scrutinizing gaze.

I rub the back of my head. “I thought it wasn’t important to mention until you got to meet my friends in person.”

“Ah.” He nods in understanding, but I detect a hint of a different emotion in his eyes. Disappointment? Disapproval? I internally shake my head. It’s probably my usual paranoia of students’ judgments whenever they see Sam and I together. Even though Sam has been my best friend for years, anyone outside my circle of friends haven’t fully comprehend why Sam prefers to be around PJ, Louise, and I. Her near flawless looks makes her more fitting for the popular crowd rather than the nerdy emo’s.

“Well then,” Louise chimes in, shoving my momentary doubts out of my head. “Who want to go to Starbucks?”

~:~

Phil gives me a tour of his house the weekend following the first week back to school. The moment I step inside the Lester residence, I’m astonished by how lively his home is compared to mine. There are houseplants in practically every corner of the house. Polaroid photos of his family are tacked to the walls of the living room. Upstairs, in Phil’s bedroom, he has various plushies littering the floor, a full-length poster of Sarah Michelle Geller on the wall behind his bed, and even a tiny cactus displayed on his bedside drawer. His twin-sized bed is covered with a green, blue, and purple checkered bedsheet, shades I think is fitting to his colorful personality.

“Sorry it’s a little messy in here,” Phil says. “I have a lot of stuff and my new room’s not as big as my old one in Manchester.”

“It’s fine. My room’s a bit messy too.”

He smiles, picking up a Totoro plushie and dropping it on his bed. “So what’s your flat like?”

“Flat?”

“Apartment.”

“Oh.” Reminder: start learning some British slang. “Not as great as yours. Roaches creeping on the floor at night. Shitty air conditioning. Noisy ass neighbors. At least my mom makes enough as a nurse to keep a roof over my head.”

“What about your dad?”

“He’s… gone.”

He frowns. “Sorry to hear that.”

I respond with a curt nod. “But you’re free to come over next weekend if you want.”

His frown disappears, morphing back to the smile that he wore earlier. “That’ll be great.”

If only you knew just how much I miss him, I think. And hate him at the same time.

~:~

There’s a paper bag from Bath and Body Works on Phil’s bedroom floor when I stay over at the Lesters on a Saturday night in mid-October. I’ve been spending most of the weekend so far doing homework and catching up with episodes of Attack on Titan and JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure. Sam and Louise are busy rehearsing for a PowerPoint presentation for their Modern Hawaiian History class and PJ is helping his family prepare for his cousin’s debutante, so I’ve been spending the time outside of my apartment hanging out with Phil.

“What’s with the bag?” I ask.

“Oh this?” He picks up the paper bag and empties its contents, revealing three candles and a bottle of lotion. “Mum went to Pearlridge today, so I asked her to buy these for me.”

I scan over the candle labels: Pumpkin Spice, Apple Pie, and Marshmallow Fireside. “Never pegged you for a candle person.”

“It’s a thing that runs in my family.” He picks up one of the candles. “In their uni years, my dad confessed his feelings for my mum by spelling out ‘I love you’ with candles at a beach in Liverpool. Mum loved the gesture so much, and since then, Dad’s been getting her candles on every anniversary.”

“Your dad sounds like a complete romantic.”

He nods, placing the candle on his bed. “I think candles are an excellent representation of my parents’ marriage. Their love is a candle with a flame that’ll never die.”

“They must be really happy together.”

“Twenty years and still going strong.”

Bittersweet memories of my mom, dad, my 10-year-old brother Adrian, and me surface in my mind. Thanksgivings when my dad splurged on the turkey special from Golden Coin. Christmases when we woke up at 7 AM to open gifts while watching the Macy’s Christmas Day parade. Birthdays celebrated with dinners at Max’s Restaurant. Those days are a lifetime ago, days when I still looked forward to Sundays when Dad was off from work and gave me guitar lessons.

“Yeah…” Those days are a thing of the past. On the bright side, having an absent father taught me not to be naïve and fueled my appreciation for rock music.

As if sensing my distress, Phil says, “So… wanna play some Smash Bros?”

I grin. Crushing him in one of my video games is a healthy distraction I need from my vortex of childhood memories. “I’d be stupid not to.”

~:~

When Sam suggests for me to perform for the winter pep rally, the fears I buried when I started dating her crash through my mind like a wrecking ball.

“You’re kidding,” I say in a monotone voice. We’re on my bed, Sam laying down with her dyed dirty blonde hair fanned across my Pikachu pillow and me sitting cross-legged with my guitar settled on my lap. I was in the middle of playing “Chasing Cars” by Snow Patrol when Sam casually brought up the question.

“I’m not.” She moves into an upright position. “Think about it. Five minutes on stage with hundreds of students cheering your name. Phil, Peej, and Lou know how talented you are. Don’t you think it’s about time to let the entire school know too?”

“No.”

She sighs. “It’s your dad, isn’t it? Danny, just because your dad was a musician doesn’t mean you’ll make the same choices he did. Besides, if being at the center of attention isn’t for you, then the pep rally can be a one-time thing. Don’t let your potential go to waste.”

I bite the inside of my mouth. A part of me is itching to live out my dream of capturing people’s souls while I perform, but the other part of me is trembling at the thought of being in my dad’s shoes. Going through with this could open up a possibility of Sam and me splitting apart.

I can’t lose Sam. Even if she isn’t my girlfriend, I can’t imagine a future without her. The Earth can be a cruel planet; I can’t navigate through it without having someone who’s equally as confused about the world as I am by my side.

She curls her arms around my neck. “I know you’re scared, but can you do it for me? For one day, can I pretend to be your rock star girlfriend sitting in the audience as you play a song dedicated to me?”

“What song do you have in mind?”

“Hmmm… a song probably everyone knows, but still fits your style.”

“So… something from Ed Sheeran, Sam Smith, or Bruno Mars?”

“Yeah!” She stares at me with her puppy-dog eyes. “So will you do it?”

One pep rally won’t be the death of you. “I’ll… give it a shot.”

She squeals, peppering the side of my face with kisses. “Thank you thank you thank you! You’re gonna be great, Danny. Show those Mariah Carey wannabees that serenading isn’t dead yet.”

I laugh. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.

~:~

Nerves rattle through my body when the student announcers call my name. The audience claps as I make my way onto the platform of the makeshift stage. Standing in front of the microphone stand with the Velcro strap holding my guitar against my abdomen, I position my fingers above the instrument’s strings. Looking out into the crowd, I spot Sam, Phil, PJ, and Louise grinning enthusiastically at me.

You’ll be fine. They’ll be proud of me no matter what happens.

I strum the opening notes of “Give Me Love” by Ed Sheeran. When I start to sing, my pre-performance jitters dissipates. I let my hands do the playing and the lyrics do the talking. I lose myself to the symphonious tune of the song, my heart beating rhythmically like a pendulum. Thoughts about my dad are knocked out of my head, replaced with a surge of joy as I think, Why didn’t I answer to the spotlight’s call sooner?

The gym fills with applause once my performance ends. My friends are on their feet, along with dozens of other juniors, upperclassmen, and even underclassmen.

I beam from ear to ear.

I’ve never felt so alive.

~:~

Hip-hop music pulsates across the spacious area of Chris Kendall’s house. Bodies grind on the open area of the living room where furniture was shoved aside to make room for a dance floor. Parties are definitely never on my agenda. I’m only here at Chris’s graduation party because PJ wanted to go for fun (it was an open invite), Sam and Louise wanted to go to have the full high school experience, and Phil wanted to see if a high school party in Hawaii is any different than the few he went to when he lived in England. Before my performance during the winter pep rally, I was someone that no one spared a second glance. Five months later and two more performances from the spring pep rally and junior prom under my belt, I get hellos from random students in-between class periods and invites to parties from popular students. So here I am, a red plastic cup filled with Pepsi in my hand (I have my values and know better than to take one sip of alcohol) while watching my friends dancing, breathing through my mouth to avoid sniffing the sickly scent of weed and cigarettes.

“Dan!” Phil stumbles out of the kitchen holding an empty Heineken bottle.

“Hey… Phil.” I finish the rest of my drink and toss the cup into one of the trash bags lying around next to the snack table. “You look like you’re having fun.”

“I am! Aren’t you?”

“If by watching people shamelessly doing things they might regret in the morning, sure.”

“Aw. Lighten up, mate!” His palm slaps the back of my shoulder. “Want me to get you a bottle?”

“I’ll pass… wait, how much have you had to drink?”

“Eh, couple bottles I think. Might go for a third.”

“No you aren’t.” I grab his wrist and drag him to the front door. When we’re outside, I lead him to the backyard. I don’t want to haul an intoxicated Phil back to his house. Perhaps some fresh air can sober him up.

I lay him down on his back on the grass, then sit down next to him. His mouth forms into a lazy smile.

“You look pretty, Dan.”

I laugh. “I’m not a girl, dude.”

“What a shame. You’d be my perfect Buffy.”

“You and your Buffy obsession.”

“Yeah… but I love you more than Buffy.”

My blood goes cold. He isn’t saying what I think he’s saying, is he?

Phil takes my silence as a sign for him to continue. “Why did I meet a perfect guy who’s taken? You’re so smart and talented and so good at video games. I had so much hope the first time we met that we could someday be something more, then I find out you have a girlfriend and I had to learn how to just be friends with an impossible dream.” He sighs. “Why did it have to be you I fell in love with?”

Suddenly, he takes a fistful of my shirt and yanks me down onto him. I fall on top of him, my face inches away from his.

“I… love you,” he mumbles before his eyelids flutter close.

I roll myself off from his body, then scramble to sit up and scoot away from him. Heat rushes to my face, my own body quivering from his words.

“Holy shit,” I whisper.

I touch my lips. He may not have kissed me, but his words feel like he did.

~:~ One week has passed since Chris’s party.

There’s no one I can tell about Phil’s drunk confession. He has no recollection of what he told me, and I have no clue if what he said is true. There’s a likelihood it isn’t. People can say all sorts of unpredictable things when they’re shitfaced drunk and not mean any of it.

Yeah right. No one says “I love you” to me without being serious.

“Fancy playing Mario Kart while we wait for the others?” Phil asks. We’re sitting on the sofa in my living room, waiting for Sam, Louise, and PJ to arrive. The five of us aren’t in the mood of going out today, so we planned a casual indoor hangout in my apartment.

“Sure,” I reply. “I’ll go get us some drinks.”

“Grab me an iced tea, yeah?”

I smile. After living in Oahu for nearly a year, Phil gradually got himself addicted to Hawaiian Sun drinks. “You’re in luck. Mom bought a fresh stock just for you.”

I leave Phil to peruse my video game collection under the TV stand and head to the kitchen. I open the refrigerator door and grab two cans of Hawaiian Sun: an Iced Tea for Phil and a Lilikoi for me. Carrying the cans back into the living room, I’m putting the two drinks on the coffee table when I hear three knocks on the door.

That bus ride was quick. I dash to the front door. Upon unlocking it, the face that greets me is one I least expect to see.

“Daniel.” The way he speaks my name has the familiar tenderness that would gravitate me into his arms when I was in elementary school. But hearing his voice now is a thousand needles stabbing at my heart all at once. My lungs shrivel at the pain scorching my chest.

I can’t breathe. My vision is blurring from months of pent-up resentment. Not knowing what to do, I back away and rush to my bedroom, slamming the door behind me. I collapse on the floor and bury my fingers in my hair. This cannot be happening to me.

A few minutes later, I hear the door swing open.

“Mate!” Phil kneels down in front of me, his face contorted into a concerned expression. “You look like rubbish.”

“No shit.”

“That guy at the door told me he’s your father. Is it true?”

I remove my hands from my head. How he could be staying so goddamn calm? He should be furious at me for lying to him, not composed and acting like I didn’t drop a bomb on him.

“He is,” I whisper.

“You said he was gone.” “He was, but he may as well be dead to me.”

“Why? What did he do to you?”

I swallow my anger threatening to rise again. “He left me, alright? He left my family for some woman named Erica he met on the streets while we were on vacation for the summer in the Philippines when I was nine. They were contacting each other behind our backs after we left and Mom caught ‘em together at Ala Moana a year later when Erica came to visit him. Mom and Dad ended up getting divorced the summer before I was in 7th grade, just shy of my 12th birthday. He left for the Philippines afterward and he’s been living there with Erica since.”

Phil doesn’t immediately respond, just staring at me in shock. I use his silence to continue my rant.

“Music is important to me because of my dad. He played all sorts of gigs when he was my age, but gave up his musician dream so he could support my mom when she was pregnant with me. He taught me how to play a guitar and got me into rock music when he told me rock is music in its rawest form.” I direct my attention to the vinyl cover of Muse’s Origins of Symmetry album nailed next to the window. “Dad’s the reason why I love that album. He bought it for me on my 7th birthday. I listened to that record on repeat after the divorce and was what got me through the first few year without him.”

“And you hadn’t seen him since the divorce,” Phil concludes.

I shake my head. “He came once during the holidays when I was in 9th grade. I pretty much avoided talking to him the whole time.”

The wake of a wildfire is outside of my bedroom. He’s the cause of why my family is a mess. He chose another woman over us. How can I forgive the man who destroyed my picture-perfect family? How can I let go of the hurt I’m still feeling four years later?

“I don’t blame you for not telling me,” Phil says.

I turn my head to look at Phil, vulnerability running through my veins. “I’m a horrible person. I should’ve told you a long time ago, but I kept it a secret because I didn’t want you to know how crappy my life really is.”

“Again, not blaming you.” He drapes his arm across my shoulders. “I get that you felt betrayed by your dad, and nothing can erase the pain you still feel. But he’s out there right now. He flew whatever miles it is from the Philippines to Hawaii to see you. Nothing’s hunky-dory between you two, but you can still fix things with him. I saw how crushed he looked when you ran off on him like that. He wants to make things right. I’m not saying you should outright forgive him, but I think you should give him a second chance. Let him be a father to you while he still has healthy lungs and isn’t in a wheelchair.”

I look into his eyes, his blue orbs looking back at me with a softness that douses my anger away. As tension rolls off my shoulders, the memory of his drunk confession flashes through my mind.

“Why did it have to be you I fell in love with?”

Did Dad or Erica ever speak the exact same sentence to each other at one point in their relationship? What was it about Erica that drew my dad to him? How did Dad know he loved Erica more than my mom? I don’t know the answer to those questions. I don’t know why Mom didn’t fight for her right to remain as Dad’s wife. I don’t know how Erica’s family reacted when they learned about her relationship with a married man. I don’t know much about their relationship, other than how they met and how they loved each other to a point of sacrificing their family’s trust to be with each other.

The clarity hits me like a curveball.

Love is an emotion that can’t be tamed. It can blind us, be an intense slap to the face, hurt us in any way possible, but it can never leave us completely empty. It’s why I’m still affected by my dad’s choices. It’s why I still prefer rock over any other genre of music, even when it was Dad’s preferred music style. It’s why there’s still fire raging inside me whenever I think about Dad. I still love him amidst the ache he imprinted in my heart. It’s why, as I gaze into Phil’s vibrant eyes that always seem to contain a gentleness I usually don’t see in males, I finally understand what I’ve been fearing all along. I wasn’t afraid of thinking about the past and making the same wrong choices as my dad; I was afraid of listening to the other side of a story and discovering things that may have been right in front of me all along.

“Go talk to him,” he murmurs, drawing his arm away from me. The loss of his friendly touch leaves a dull ache in my chest.

It’s time to face the music.

“Mind if you come with me?”

“Of course. Did you think I was planning to let you face him alone?”

Fireflies stir in my stomach. Once I deal with the person outside this room, I’ll think about what these fireflies mean. I don’t know why the fireflies popped up unexpectedly, but I sort of like it.

Phil helps me stand, staying close to me as I open the door. We walk into the living room, where I find Dad sitting on the sofa. I take a deep breath, my hand taking purchase on Phil’s arm. His presence is my gravity, helping me to control negativity in my emotions. If I’m going to make an effort to patch things up, I can’t go berserk if I feel the slightest agitation.

“Dad?”

I hear his breath hitch when he turns his head to the direction of my voice. Same dark chocolate eyes. Same unruly brunette hair. Same mole marked on the ridge of his nose. I’m looking at an older version of myself, albeit as someone wiser that has seen more of the world. That, and I can’t stand my natural messy hair. I can’t leave the house without using my hair straightener.

“Anak,” he says softly.

The fireflies glow for a brief second.

“It’s okay,” Phil whispers. “He’s not going to hurt you.”

Dad glances toward Phil. “This is your friend, right?”

Phil gives an awkward wave at Dad. “Hi. Sorry I didn’t properly introduce myself earlier. I’m Phillip, Phil for short.”

“Phil … it’s nice to meet you.”

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Howell.”

I can’t help the low chuckle that escapes my lips. “This isn’t Pride and Prejudice, dude.”

Phil laughs. “What? This is a momentous occasion, Dan. This is more nerve-wracking than making a first impression to my girlfriend’s parents.”

“You never even had a girlfriend.”

“I will one day.”

For some reason, I’m a bit upset by his response. So did his drunk confession mean nothing? Or is he making an Oscar-worthy ruse to cover up his feelings? My effort to analyze his emotions is only confusing me further.

Dad clears his throat. Right. Dad first, Phil later.

“Anyway-” I say, “Dad, what are you doing here all of a sudden? If you’re looking for Mom, she won’t be home from work till around six.”

“I’m aware of that. I actually wanted to talk to you first, if it’s okay,” Dad replies.

“Fine, but Phil stays with us.”

“I see no problem with that.”

Phil and I make our way over to the sofa, my hand still on Phil’s arm. Dad moves to give us room, leaving me to sit in the middle so Dad is to my left and Phil is to my right.

“Where’s Erica?” I begin.

Dad shakes his head. “I asked her to come, but she thought it would be best for me to be here alone.”

“How long will you stay?”

“A week, two weeks at the most.”

“Dad…” I move my hand from Phil’s arm to his jean-covered thigh. “Ummm… this might sound out of the blue, but how did you know you were in love with Erica?”

“Oh… to be honest, Jessica was the reason why,” he tells me sheepishly.

“Mom?” I say incredulously. “But… how?”

He smiles, leaning back on the sofa. “In many ways, Erica is a lot like your mother. She put her studies first, cared about her family more than anything else, and worked hard to give herself a good future. She became an attorney to provide for her family, and she cherishes her job so much, though she told me more than once she felt she was missing something from her life. She didn’t know what it was until she reunited with her childhood friend.”

“Who was that?”

“Your mother.”

“Wait… what? I thought Mom and Erica were strangers until you got together with Erica.”

“Your mother and I only said that because we thought you weren’t ready for the truth.”

“Dad! I was 11! I watched enough episodes of Maalala Mo Kaya to know what reality is about.”

He looks at me forlornly. “I know that now, anak. I’m sorry.”

I sigh. “I’m turning 17 next week. Whatever secret you’re keeping from me, I wanna hear it.”

He nods. The story he tells me drastically alters my perspective of Dad.

Mom and Erica knew each other because they were best friends when they were kids and lost touch with each other after Mom immigrated from Cebu to Honolulu when she was eight.

Dad courted Erica in high school. When he got accepted into an exchange program for the University of Hawaii in Manoa, he made a promise with Erica to go on a date with her once he graduated from college and moved back home.

During his third year at UH Manoa, he met Mom during an open mic night at a bar in Waikiki. Mom was in UH Manoa’s nursing program and skipped a night of studying to hang out with her friends at the bar that Dad had his gig at.

Mom and Dad became friends, which gradually turned into love.

Dad was guilty about breaking his promise to Erica, but Erica understood and she wished the best for him and Mom.

Parenthood treated Mom and Dad well when they had me and Adrian.

Then came the Philippine vacation.

Dad hadn’t communicated with Erica since he told her about his relationship with Mom, so he was surprised when he bumped into her at a Chow King restaurant while buying lunch for Mom, Adrian, and me. They exchanged phone numbers and used long-distance phone-lines for communication over the course of a year, where they found themselves revisiting their past and falling in love with each other all over again.

During winter break of my 5th grade year, Erica lied to her parents about wanting to spend Christmas and New Years with a friend in America so she could see Dad, even if it was just for a few days and a majority of her time would be spent cooped up in her hotel room at Ala Moana Hotel. On that fateful day when Mom saw Dad and Erica together, she was at Ala Moana Shopping Center to do some last-minute shopping while she supposedly thought Dad was helping my Tito Kevin pick out a gift for my Aunt Elizabeth. As soon as Mom exited from Macy’s, she witnessed Dad and Erica holding hands while sitting at one of the tables outside the neighboring Starbucks. Erica saw Mom and that was when all hell broke loose. Mom tried not to cause a scene at Ala Moana, but she had a crying fit when she learned that Dad’s mistress and her childhood friend, Erica Bautista, were the same woman.

That night, when I overheard my parents arguing but Mom told us she and Dad were disagreeing on something about bills, it was really about Mom’s reaction to finding out about the affair.

For months, they kept the issue a secret from Adrian and me. Mom swallowed her pride, staying in the sidelines as she encouraged Dad to go after his true love. The issue loomed like a raincloud over their heads once Dad chose Erica over Mom, and that raincloud lingered until Mom and Dad finally told me about Erica and their mutual decision to file for divorce.

Unfortunately, that raincloud only transferred over me, towering over my own head and remaining there to this day.

“Damn” is all I can say when Dad finishes speaking.

The pieces are coming together.

It was never supposed to be Mom and Dad.

If Dad never met Mom, it would have been Dad and Erica.

It’s a classic case of how wrong timing can affect even the strongest of relationships.

“Fucking hell,” Phil breathes. Hearing him swear surprises me. He rarely swears, and when he does, it’s when he’s incredibly emotional about something.

“I didn’t tell you this because I thought you might dislike Erica more if I told you the truth,” Dad tells me.

Everything coming out of Dad’s mouth sheds more authenticity to the entire situation. All this time, Dad was never at fault. It wasn’t his fault that Mom was an intervention who prevented him from keeping his promise to Erica. It wasn’t his fault for reaching a point where he had to choose between his wife and kids over a woman his heart subconsciously still yearned for. It wasn’t his fault for allowing his heart to direct him down a path that led him to hurt those he cared about. Everything happens for a reason, and it’s the reason why I’m existing in the first place. If his life went according to plan, I wouldn’t have ever taken my first breath in this world.

Love isn’t always kind. It isn’t an easy stroll through the park or a cookie to steal from a cookie jar. It’s having to pay 75 cents for a gumball from one of those machines in supermarkets or trying to find parking during Black Friday at any mall. Love always comes with a price. For Dad, the price for his happiness with one woman is the trust he has from those he loves the most.

“That was a possibility,” I say. “Or I could’ve appreciated her role in your life. We’ll never know. Either way, it wouldn’t have changed how much you love Erica.”

Dad nods in agreement. “Erica hasn’t changed how much I love you, Adrian, and your Mom. It was wrong of me to leave you how I did, but I’m here to right my wrong.”

The fire in my chest blazes more furiously than it ever has before. Flames send the fireflies in my stomach glimmering in a flurry of excitement, sending my emotions in a tailspin.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been a good father ever since I moved to the Philippines,” Dad continues. “It wasn’t my intention for you to think I didn’t care about you anymore, but it was my way to give you space. You were angry at me, and I believed distance was the solution to ease your anger. When you refused to speak to me when I spent Christmas with you on your first year of high school, I realized the distance led you to resent me more. I don’t want to hurt you anymore, anak. I’m tired of being away from you. My life may be in the Philippines, but my heart belongs here with our family.”

My insides melt. These are the words I longed to hear Dad say. I’d be a fool if I ignored my subconscious whispering how I should stop being hostile and allow my dad to make up for lost time.

“Did you steal that line from a Justin Bieber song?” I joke.

Hope swims in Dad’s eyes. “So you forgive me?”

“Not… exactly,” I answer hesitantly. “But we have two weeks. We can go around the island like we used to.”

I’m not looking at the enemy anymore. For the first time in years, I’m looking at my idol, the man who rooted my dedication to music, the greatest hero I’ve ever known.

A smile cracks on Dad’s face. “Your old man is looking forward to that.”

~:~

Summers brings goodbyes, hope, and refreshing starts. Four years ago, summer was bidding a reluctant farewell to the perfect family I had. One year ago, summer was sharing my first kiss with a girl who meant more to me than my best friend. This summer, a new chapter with a man I granted a second shot at redemption opened up, and an opportunity to follow my heart like every protagonist in a cheesy YA novel is ushering in a wave of anticipation of what the vast unknown will bring.

The sky is enveloped by a murky blanket of gleaming stars and a moon illuminating the night. Sitting cross-legged on the rooftop of my apartment complex, I fish out another roll of Smarties from my jacket pocket. I unravel the plastic packaging and shove pieces of the colorful candy into my mouth, savoring its sweet, tangy mixture. Aside from the occasional car zooming along the streets at midnight, I relish the relative silence. My mind is still reeling over all the things that occurred since Dad showed up at the front door of my apartment.

The two weeks that Dad was here was a hodgepodge of family beach trips and father-son visits to various music stores around the island. He shared tales of his life with Erica in Manila, and in return, I shared my memories about Sam and my friends over the last four years. Those two weeks were us being mismatched pieces slowly fusing together to create the complete puzzle, with several holes that are yet to be filled. By the time he flew back to the Philippines, I was closer to the point of one hundred percent forgiving him. It’ll take me months before I can truly move on from the past, but I’m getting there. Time will tell when that day will come.

After Dad left, I took the time to figure out my feelings for Sam and Phil. Before I met Phil, I thought Sam was my endgame. I saw a future with her after high school. I visualized the two of us moving in together, having a beachside wedding, honeymooning in Paris, and raising our kids with our brown or black hair and brown eyes. But after Chris’s party and the long conversation I had with Dad, I questioned where my heart belonged. Sam was everything a boy could ever want for a girlfriend, someone who Mom was ecstatic about someday watching me say “I do” to, someone who filled that empty void when Dad left. Phil, on the other hand, was everything I never knew existed as an option for me, someone who enamored me since day one and opened up parts of me that I never showed to anyone aside from Sam, PJ, and Louise, someone who was the reason why I willingly mended my relationship with Dad.

I was confused. Do I choose safety with the anchor that has always kept me grounded, or do I choose happiness with the candle who sparked an incandescence within me that not even Sam or my friends were able to light up?

A few hours ago, on a park bench with the sun dipping down in the horizon, I broke up with Sam. It was a difficult choice that I nearly backed down from doing, but it was one Dad would be proud of me for doing. Being in a position of dumping my girlfriend made me understand why it was hard for Dad to divorce Mom. True love isn’t measured by years or the number of people that approve of the relationship; true love is the person who makes your heartbeat stutter and makes you smile to any love song that plays on the radio, no matter how cliché the lyrics are. Love is the fire that ignites your soul and what makes you the best person you can be.

Despite the tears that were shed, Sam understood. In fact, she had a hunch that Phil harbored feelings for me. She knew it was a matter of time before I caught on and braced herself for the feasible day where I could return his feelings. Following a friendly hug, we left the park knowing that even though we aren’t a couple anymore, our friendship will never fade. We’ve always been there for each other; we won’t let our breakup drive a wedge between us.

“Dan?”

I turn around. Phil stands behind me, his ruffled raven hair reflected under the moonlight and his blue irises flickering with uncertainty. We’re heading back to school next week, so my friends and I are spending our last few days of summer break with a weekend-long sleepover in my apartment.

“Yo.”

“Mind if I sit with you?”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

He nods, then moves to sit directly across from me, mirroring my sitting position.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asks.

I chew the remaining chunks of Smarties in my mouth and swallow. “How can I? We’re seniors. We have one more year in high school before we’re thrust into adulthood and we’re little fishes trying to swim away from huge-ass sharks. Not that I’m ready to grow up, but my teen years are moving way too quick and I need time to slow down just a bit.”

He chuckles. “True. I’m not ready for senioritis to bite me in the bum yet. But I think that’s not what you’re really worried about.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You have a few candy wrappers next to you. You don’t binge-eat sweets unless you’re thinking really hard about something.”

He’s right. My sweet tooth is my version of stress-eating.

“You’re not wrong,” I say. “Truth is, you’re kinda the reason why I’m this close to getting a cavity.”

“How come?”

“Well… how else do you cope with realizing you love someone who’s so close yet so far beyond your grasp?”

“What? Dan, what Shojo anime have you been watching lately?”

“None. I just… God, I’ll just say it. I like you, Phil. I really, really like you and I might even love you, but I don’t know if I do yet ‘cause it’s too soon to tell.” I bend my legs so my knees are curled to my chest and my chin is on my kneecaps. “Fate is so screwed up. I shouldn’t be feeling this way, but I do. You’re strangely interesting and you get me so well. You’re the ying to my yang. You complete me, and I can’t live with the idea of seeing you with someone else. It’s so selfish of me since I already had Sam, but there’s something about you that wants you more than a friend. And… yeah.”

He blinks. “Whoa.”

“I know. Now let me down easy so we can forget I said any of that and I can start dealing with rejection.”

“Rejection? Dan, what are you, blind? I’ve loved you the moment you approached me and said, and I quote ‘I like your shirt.’”

“You still remember that?”

“How can I? It was love at first sight.”

“Love at first sight? This isn’t the 19th century.”

“Not according to the swiping on Tinder.”

I laugh. Being with Phil is easy. He’s carefree and doesn’t mind my wit. Even Sam has her occasions of being offended by my snark.

“I’m serious though. I do love you.” He leans closer, his hand reaching out to rest on top of mine. “I love how you can speak like a wise old philosopher. I don’t know how I went most of my life without you, because you’re what I was missing out on all this time. You came into my life with a purpose. I don’t know what I did to deserve you as a friend, but whatever it is, having you around made my life so much better.”

I look down at our entwined fingers. Holding his hand is comforting, a gesture that should be so wrong yet feels so right. This is what tadhana is. Destiny works in mysterious ways. As our fingers entwine, I’m reminded by how touching him soothed me when I spoke to Dad. He was my gravity then, and he’s my gravity now. The gravity is a force that’s much more powerful than I foresaw.

“Are you sure about this?” I murmur. “I’ve already hurt Sam. I don’t want to hurt you too if this doesn’t work out.”

“It will.” His eyes sharpen with conviction. “I won’t let anyone ruin what we have. Even if the universe hates what we are, I won’t ever hate you.” He releases my hands and maneuvers them to caress my cheeks. “I love you, Dan.”

I nod. Someday, I’ll be able to repeat those three words back to him.

Because when our lips meet and my stomach is churning with gentle waves, I’m certain that what Phil and I have is a fire that’ll never be extinguished.

What we have is real and here to stay.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

For any of you that read any of my former phanfics, I used a few lines from The Story of Us and Don’t You Wonder. I couldn’t resist using my one-liners while I wrote this.

Anak means “my son/daughter” and tadhana means “destiny.” I can’t speak Filipino fluently, but I do understand some of the language.

Maalala Mo Kaya is an ongoing Filipino TV series that showcases real-life stories of celebrities and average people like us. Dan’s family background was highly inspired by numerous eps I watched of MMK involving broken families.

Hope ya’ll enjoyed this! I had fun incorporating aspects of the “local” life in Hawaii, especially since the release of Pokemon Sun and Moon. If you haven’t tried a malasada, you should. There’s a reason why Hau loves ‘em. Don’t give spam such a hard time, because I eat spam musubi’s often and they’re delicious. And the bus system? Trust me, if you aren’t sure familiar with public transportation involving the bus system, you’re easily gonna get lost. Heaven knows how many tourists I witnessed questioning what bus to catch. Hell, even a local like me sometimes has to consult Google Maps to figure out what bus to ride.

Originally, I approached this story with a love triangle angle, but it was my professor who recommended I should try focusing on a father-son relationship instead. Best decision ever, because writing the story that way felt way more real.

~ AA

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