#yes i did two versions..... sometimes you gotta laugh out of the pain i guess

[pedrohub]

EMMY AWARDS LOSER PEDRO PASCAL

Outstanding Lead Actor In A Drama Series

#pedro pascal #the last of us #the last of us hbo #tlouhboedit #tlouedit #tvedit #joel miller #ppascaledit #pedropascaledit #emmy awards #emmys 2024 #emmys #joelmilleredit #ours #gifs #constance #yes i did two versions..... sometimes you gotta laugh out of the pain i guess #we'll get you that emmy king.... for season 2

[myaimistrue]

part one of the fic for my content creator celebration! in this one, season five cas learns a little bit about how to take care of people from bobby <3 part two will be up tomorrow! EDIT: part two is available now here!

read on ao3

Castiel watches Dean sleep.

He knows he’s not supposed to. It’s something Dean’s told him plenty of times, usually in that hushed whisper Castiel has grown so familiar with over the past weeks spent in hotel rooms and Bobby’s house with the Winchesters, all those early mornings and late nights. But he thinks even Dean would allow him this, if he were awake. He thinks Dean would understand why Castiel has to stay here, has to watch over him.

They were ambushed by some of Castiel’s brothers and sisters this afternoon. Castiel is still strong enough to have fought most of them off, with Sam and Dean’s help, but he wasn’t strong enough to prevent Dean from being seriously hurt, let alone to heal him.

But Bobby patched him up well. Sam and Castiel brought Dean back here as quickly as they could, and Bobby worked efficiently. The wide cut on Dean’s torso is shallow, fortunately, and Bobby cleaned and bandaged it carefully. The dislocated shoulder has been popped back into place, and with the minor flickers of his remaining grace, Castiel was able to soften Dean’s head injury to a mild concussion that should heal within the week. If you weren’t looking closely, Castiel thinks, you might not even realize Dean was injured at all.

The quiet is broken by the familiar sound of floorboards shifting as Bobby’s wheelchair crosses them. Castiel doesn’t bother to look away from Dean to greet him.

“You gotta sleep,” Bobby says gruffly as he comes to a stop beside the old chair Castiel is hunched over in. He eyes him knowingly. “I know you hate it, but you’re pretty damn close to human these days. You need rest the same way we all do.”

“I’m watching over Dean,” Castiel says, gaze locked on the curve of his cheek, the way his faint freckles stand out especially by the light of the desk lamp.

“Well, I’ve been doing that his whole damn life,” Bobby grouses. “So why don’t you go lay down before I kick your ass all the way there?”

Castiel looks over, and Bobby’s arms are crossed firmly across his chest. A thread of fondness runs through him, for the man who made sure the Winchester boys grew up with some sort of unconditional love, and has now taken Castiel in the same way: with plenty of grumpiness, but an ever-present undercurrent of kindness and care. Fondness for Bobby, who taught Castiel how to make salt rounds, who makes sure to buy the sugary cereal he has recently become fond of, who has healed Dean now that Castiel is now unable to.

“You did well with him,” Cas says quietly. They’re both looking at Dean, his peacefulness in sleep. Castiel tries not to think of the way Dean cried out in pain as Bobby and Sam popped his shoulder back in place, the pale line of agony in his face as Bobby cleaned out the cut on his torso. “You made it as quick and painless as possible.”

“I’ve been patching him up since he still had his baby teeth,” Bobby says. He looks at Dean like a father would—like Dean is something to be proud of, to protect and to love at any cost. Castiel wonders if his own Father ever looked at him like that, even once.

“I remember, one of the first times John dropped them here.” Bobby’s voice has taken on the tone it does when he’s telling a story, and Castiel feels himself relax further into the chair at the familiarity of it. “Sam was still real little, so Dean had to be five or six, maybe? He tripped down the porch steps one day, scraped up his hands and knees. He didn’t even tell me.” Bobby chuckles softly. Castiel watches him, enraptured by this story, this new sliver of Dean he doesn’t already know. “I found him standing on a chair in the kitchen trying to reach a bottle of vodka. Guess John never taught him about antiseptic.” A shadow passes over Bobby’s face, an angrier version of what Castiel has seen on Dean and Sam when discussing their father. “So, I sat him down and started cleaning him up, and he was so quiet. Wouldn’t say anything, just screwed his face up and kept his mouth shut, even though I knew it must’ve hurt like a bitch.”

“It’s hard to imagine Dean being quiet,” Castiel says.

“He was a quiet kid,” Bobby replies. “Wasn’t until he got to be a teenager that he started this whole macho motormouth routine. Before that, he didn’t talk much, especially if he didn’t know you well.” He sighs. Castiel wonders if he misses that version of Dean. “Anyway, I told him, you’ll feel better if you let some of that pain out. It hurts worse when you keep it all inside. He just kept staring at me, so then I said, if you don’t tell your daddy, I’ll let you cuss. Just this one time. And his eyes got so wide, and I poured some antiseptic on the worst of it, and like he couldn’t help it, the kid goes, oh fuck, Bobby!”

They’re both laughing then, hushed as they can be in the quiet twilight so as to not wake Dean. Castiel can picture it easily, big green eyes swallowing up Dean’s tiny face, the way the curse word would’ve spilled out of him and surprised him more than anybody else. That child seems so close and still so far away from the sleeping man in front of them.

“I couldn’t quit laughing,” Bobby continues, still laughing in the present day. “And I swear, Dean smiled so wide I thought his face was gonna split in half. By the time I finished bandaging him up, the kid’d run through just about every cuss in the book, and he wasn’t crying about his hands and knees anymore.”

Castiel’s laughter goes quiet, and so does Bobby’s, until they’re both looking at Dean again, at the man who made it so that they see each other as far more than just reluctant allies, so that they now know each other as family. Dean shifts in his sleep, and the wrap on his shoulder shifts along with him. Unthinking, acting on a terrifyingly human instinct, Castiel reaches out and straightens it with a gentle touch, smoothing over Dean’s shoulder with careful hands.

He feels Bobby’s eyes on him. Castiel wonders, as he often does, if he has crossed some unspoken line with Dean, if he’s done something a human would know better than to do, something Bobby and everyone else can see right through. Sometimes, he thinks they all know something he doesn’t.

“Dean means a whole lot to you, don’t he?” Bobby finally says. His voice is low, almost kind.

Castiel thinks of Dean’s soul in Hell, glowing warm and golden. He thinks of how he’d fallen to his knees beside Dean after Afriel knocked him aside this afternoon, the rushing and roiling panic. He thinks of how he can’t ever look away from Dean, even when he’s angry, even when he’s scared.

“Yes,” Castiel says. “Yes, he does.”

Bobby searches Castiel’s face, and seems satisfied with whatever he finds there—he claps Castiel on the shoulder, squeezes once, then lets go. “Now, you go the hell to sleep. I’ll wake you up when Dean does.”

Castiel, who’s starting to think that if there’s anyone he can trust to watch over Dean, it’s the man beside him, doesn’t argue. 

#deancas #dean #cas #bobby #spn #del's writing #fic #content creator celebration #rambleoncas #offbeattraxx #gardenercas #seffersonjtarship

[ohmygoodnessgraciouss]

Reality Check - Chapter 6

Summary: Y/N and Wanda were very close after returning in 2023.  The two bonded over the loss of their partners.  It wasn’t enough to keep Wanda grounded after she found Vision’s body though, and Wanda wants the best for her friend.  Unfortunately for Y/N, this means she’s going to be thrown into a reality she wasn’t expecting.

Notes: Thank you all for your love and support!!  I love you guys so much and your feedback makes me smile.  It’s hard to reply to everyone but I’m keeping tabs on the taglist as much as possible.  I’ve noticed a few usernames are not being tagged on this post, so I’ll be sure to contact them.  Tumblr decided not to tag them I guess lol!  

Anyway, enjoy this new chapter.  I changed things a little bit.  We’re going a little off course of what I had before, hence the reason why this is late.  The chapter I had written at first is only being stocked away for the next chapter, which means it’ll be out sooner than this one did.  I promise! 

Happy Falcon and the Winter Soldier day, everyone! 

“Well Wanda, I gotta skitty before Loki starts wondering where I’m at,” You chuckled nervously.  Watching her fix the wall was incredible.  It was unlike anything you’ve seen before.  So unusual yet so familiar. 

Wanda smiled lightly at you.  “Alright, I understand.  But please feel free to come by anytime.  Whatever you need,” She said.  You smiled back at the woman. 

“Of course!  Maybe I’ll swing by in a couple of days to see the boys!” You waved goodbye to her and opened the door. 

You took your leave, closing the front door behind you.  Vision turned to see you come outside moments later, a confused look on his face.  “Vision?  What’s wrong, buddy?  You look paler than a ghost.” 

Vision turned to look back at the fence, where Herb and Agnes once stood.  The two had left a while ago, but he seemed frozen in place.  “It’s nothing,” He smiled.  

“Are you sure?” You asked, looking back at the fence that he seemed to stare at before he looked at you.  It was cut nearly in half.  From what, you couldn’t tell. 

“Absolutely.  I suppose I’m just rather nervous about becoming a father.  It feels like it happened so quickly.” 

“Well, I’m sure it did, Vision.  You’ll be fine though.  You’re a good man and remember, Wanda’s going to be there too.  Like I said before, it’s not like you’re doing it alone.  You’ve got this whole town.”  

“That’s true.  This town seems to be quite... Supportive.” 

“Sometimes too supportive.  It feels like everyone’s connected sometimes!” You two shared a nervous laugh. 

“Oh yes, everyone here is quite connected.  Sometimes it is almost concerning.  This town is nothing like I have ever seen before.  I feel as though you can’t keep any secrets around here.” 

“Yeah, I know how you feel.” 

~

“What do you mean?” Loki asked, trying to figure out what’s going on.  The blade was pressing against his skin, close to piercing it.  His eyes scanned the man’s face, unable to determine who he was. 

“I won’t ask again.” 

“I don’t even know who you are,” Loki replied, now glaring at the man.  

Scott revealed himself to Loki, green magic engulfing his form.  He wore the same suit as he did before, but his hair was longer now, reaching down to brush his shoulders slightly.  His green eyes were sharper now, and his face was far more defined.  Loki watched as the man morphed into a mirror image of himself.  “Do I look familiar now?” He spat out, annoyed by the impostor.  

“Quite,” He said stiffly.  Loki pushed him back while “Scott” wasn’t paying that much attention.  He walked to the other side of the room, giving the two of them space between one another.  “I am Loki.  But who are you?” 

“That’s impossible,” Scott said.  “This reality’s version of me was supposed to die in 2018.” 

“2018?” Loki questioned.  “The year 2018?” 

“Yes, the year 2018,” Scott rolled his eyes.  “What other year would I mean?” 

“What year is it now then?” 

“2023.  You’ve been dead for 5 years and yet you’re here.  The T.V.A didn’t tell me about this.  Of course they wouldn’t.”

“The T.V.A?” 

Scott ignored his question.  “Now I’m stuck in the Scarlet Witch’s fake reality with another version of me.  But they told me he died.  Is it possible?” He was thinking aloud, causing Loki to grow even more confused. 

“What are you talking about?” 

Scott shook his head.  “It doesn’t matter.  I have a mission to carry out if I want to get out of there.  Plans have changed.” 

~

Ten minutes later you found yourself walking to Ellis Avenue.  It was close to the edge of town, and very few people lived there anymore.  The sun may have been shining and birds may have been chirping, but you felt like the air was icy as you got closer to the border.  The sign “Leaving Westview: We hope to see you again soon!” looked old and rundown, as if no one had touched it in decades.  An image of a family playing in the park was shown next to the lettering.  Perhaps once upon a time it was a cute sign.  Now it seemed ominous. 

A sense of dread and misery started to seep in as you continued walking closer to the end of the road.  It was like you couldn’t control your own thoughts anymore.  Or perhaps, it was the other way around.  For the first time this week you felt like you were gaining control again.  

Making your way to the border, you noticed that there was not a single person in sight.  The road continued on, making its way through the forest that was only a mile away.  The trees swayed with the wind soundlessly.  A part of you almost seemed to beg to leave the town.  

So you kept on walking. 

It felt like some sort of energy was trying desperately to pull you away from it.  You couldn’t understand what pulled you to this town, what kept trying to pull you back into it.  You hardly remember anything before Westview.  What was on the outside? 

You were abruptly stopped by a barrier.  It was glowing red, much like the other objects you saw a few days ago.  The vibrant color seemed to pulse and move as you walked closer.  It was an electrifying feeling, being this close to the magic that kept everyone trapped inside.  Some part of you begged, screamed for you to stay back.  The other part of you asked for the exact opposite.  

You touched the barrier, a shock running up your arm when you did.  You almost pulled back instantly, but something protected you from it.  You stared in amazement as blue shockwaves seemed to surround your hand.  They disappeared, fading off into the red barrier.  

You turned around, looking to see if anyone was nearby.  No one seemed to be in sight, but you felt like you were being watched.  You turned back to the barrier, pushing your hand further in.  It hurt, but something egged you on, daring you to cross it.  

You took a step in, watching the red engulf your entire body.  You couldn’t think, couldn’t hear, couldn’t even see anything that was going on.  You had two options: Go back into the town that you’re trapped in or see what’s on the outside.  

It seemed to last forever, but it was probably because you could hardly move while you were in it.  It felt as if you were frozen solid.  Whatever it was didn’t want you to get out.  Memories were starting to seep in though.  Memories of the distant past, and memories of what had happened only two weeks ago.  

You gained feeling back in your hand again.  You had to be close to the end if you could feel it.  In just a split second you were thrown out of the barrier.  You collapsed onto the grass, taking a deep breath.  It felt like someone splashed cold water on you.  

Lights began to blind you as you heard voices all around you.  “Put her in custody, and someone get a doctor!” You heard one say.  It was distinct, clear, loud.  Whoever it was sounded like the leader. 

You felt several people pull you up from the ground, placing you on a softer surface.  A gurney, probably.  You blinked several times, squinting to see where you were.  Someone familiar stood next to you.  It was Geraldine.  Was that her name?  

At that point it didn’t matter.  Your head was in too much pain from everything else that was going on to care.  

“You’ll be okay, Y/N.  We’re going to get you checked out,” The woman reassured you.  She smiled slightly and you tried to smile back at her. 

You started to doze off, choosing to sleep and recover from the traumatic experience you just had.  For the first time in a long time you were able to dream.  These dreams weren’t normal though.  

They were memories. 

Memories of everything before Westview. 

Scott watched Loki’s body slowly disappear.  Clearly, he was just an illusion.  Something set up by the Scarlet Witch to keep Y/N in control.  He contacted the TVA on his communicator, sending them a message as he watched the body dissolve.  

He was told that this reality was created by the Scarlet Witch and that he had to get the timeline back on track.  They never told him about Y/N being involved.  They didn’t even tell him that an illusion of himself would be in it too.  

The plan would have to change if he wanted to make sure this worked.  They didn’t even give him an idea of how to set the timeline right.  Now that he knows what’s going on, he has an idea. 

And now, he’ll make sure he gets out of here in time. 

And he’ll be sure to give the Time Variance Authority hell.  

~

Wanda smiled down at Billy, sitting next to Vision who held Tommy.  She felt something turn in her chest.  Something was wrong.  Her eyes widened, and she looked out across the room, zoning out.  

Vision noticed that she seemed distracted, trapped in her thoughts.  He reached over slightly to touch her hand, bringing her back.  She turned to him and smiled.  

“Is something wrong, my love?” He asked. 

“No, nothing at all.  Everything is just fine.” She said, looking down at Billy once more.  

She wasn’t going to concern him with the fact that she knew something was wrong. 

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

@emberfulclass @momoneymolife @high-priestesss @hailey-the-heathen @mochminnie @dpaccione @intricate-melody @lindseyrae20 @storminateacup15 @ilovemollyweasley @bookgirlunicorn @chims-kookies @austynparksandpizza @yikesdameron @littleladdty @three-eyed-snail @kymera-casterwill @justsomerandompersonintheworld @followthepastelcloud @11mb0 @carolinesbookworld @from-hel-i-with-love @grimalkynslee @boywivlove @prettysbliss @youreobsessedwithmarvel @th3gl1tt3gram3roff1c1al @luthien-t @lokilove3000 @treblebeth @weclassygirl @justfangirlingaround @drpepperobsessed @how-does-this-work @prideofnewberk @matterdontminduntildone

#loki x reader #loki odinson #laufeyson #thor #westview #WandaVision #WandaVision spoilers #Reality Check Masterlist #Fanfic #Fanfiction #fluff #wanda maximoff #vision #avengers #marvel

[scribblingfangirl]

WITH LOVE, THE GOSTS | Julie and The Phantoms - Part Three

.•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•.

Author’s Note: I decided that this fic trilogy occurs a year after the season one final, making Julie and Y/N almost (or already) 17. Also… this part turned out waaay longer than expected. Which is why there is going to be a fourth part because I have one last idea but didn’t want to rush to write it. And to think this all started because of a rushed (haha) 1k Oneshot. I should really start to write more spontaneously, it seems like good things come out of it. Anyway, Enjoy! :D

Songs mentioned in this chapter (in this order): Now or Never & Wake Up by JaTP | Don't Stop Me Now by Queen | Rude by MAGIC! | Don’t Laugh At Me by Mark Wills | Don’t You Worry ’Bout a Thing by Tori Kelly | Still Learning by Halsey | Ayo Technology by 50 Cent | My version of My Name Is Luke by Trevor Wilson | Let’s Forget About It by Lisa Loeb | Let's Just Get Naked Lyrics by Joan Osborne | Hey by Pixies

word count: ~ 3.9k

summary: Even after meeting the boys they still aren’t tired of helping you out and they each have their own little ways to do it.

warnings:  // (english is not my first language, not beta-read)

| PART ONE | PART TWO |

.•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•.

Knowing that ghosts existed was an absurd feeling (even though you had always believed or hoped that there was more out there than just this world, especially with all those planets that had been discovered by NASA), but knowing that there were three certain ghosts that liked you enough to kindly haunt you, well… that was just plain unimaginable somehow. Yet, still less anxiety awakening than you expected. 

After Julie let you meet the guys for the first time you thought you were prepared to accept that you would not be able to talk to them unless they played something (after all, you had Flynn to groan about that), but the occasional giggle from Julie and her glances into nothing still sent chills down your spine.

So you started to always look around very suspiciously whenever you were over at her house and make obscene hand movements just to be sure that the boys would move before you walked somewhere or sat down (which just earned chuckles from Flynn and annoyed sighs from Julie - “Just because you can’t see them, doesn’t mean they can’t see you. They know where you are, so please stop, or else my dad will call your parents and send you to Dr Turner as well.” The boys found it hilarious and liked to imitate you whenever they came too close to you.) 

The boys also still kept doing little things for you, just not so in secret anymore (though… Reggie was never one for subtlety). Whenever you seemed to have had a bad day (or whenever they just wanted to make you smile) you knew you could count on them having something prepared for you. 

You soon discovered that anything related to food (which sometimes were extremely odd and bizarre combinations) was Luke’s doing (except for pizza and meatballs, according to Julie that was always Reggie). And you knew it was Alex whenever it was something more calm and soothing, yet sometimes a little bit clumsy. And whenever it was blatantly obvious and/or slightly weird (in a good way!) it was Reggie. 

Well, no. Not always in a good way. One time you came back from school and your whole room was filled with glitter and butterflies and a small note with a little ‘Sorry!’ on it was pinned to your desk - cleaning that had been a pain in the a-. But you couldn’t be angry at Reggie, even though you weren’t quite sure what his ultimate goal would have been. 

Speaking of REGGIE...

All those helpful little deeds and nice gestures were always done within the limits of your house (mostly room) or Julie’s house and the studio, which is why you almost let out a loud yelp when suddenly during a math test your pen started to move on his own, filling out the empty space (because yes, you hadn’t been doing very much other than staring helplessly at the paper in front of you). Quickly you grabbed the pen as well (loosely and while trying to ignore the fact that you were practically holding hands with one of the guys) so that nobody would see a floating pen as you did a few weeks ago at Christmas.

From the corners of your eyes, you saw Julie slightly move her head towards you, as if she was listening to you - or rather someone right beside or behind you. ‘Of course. I can’t see them, so the only way to help me is by physically grabbing the pen, but Julie can hear and see them, so they (whoever this is - because let���s be honest, none of the guys really looks like a math genius) only have to tell her the corrects solutions and how to get there. My money’s on Alex.’

You were kind of shocked, and weirdly proud when Julie came up to you after class and said: “Reggie’s not so questionable after all, huh?” (Though… you should’ve guessed it, you did say subtlety wasn’t Reggie’s strong suit.) So you just giggled and shook your head while leaving some of your books in your locker (alongside the fact that Reggie was probably almost (if not!) hugging you from behind - you shuddered at that thought, it’s not like you were already awkward around living boys your age, no need to add ghosts to that list!)

A week later you and Julie entered the studio with blank faces and hanging shoulders. Julie threw a weak little wave towards the piano and sighed while you threw the blankets and snacks you were holding carelessly on the ground and let yourself fall face-first onto the couch, not being able to hide your smile anymore.

“We got our math exams back… yes the one Reggie helped us with.”

You couldn’t see what Julie was doing, but you heard her gasp and whisper “No! Reggie…” after a while. Then she was standing beside you, nudging your shoulder and willing you to sit up, but you didn’t bulge, needing a few more seconds to wipe the smile off your face again.

Faking to disgruntledly accept defeat as Julie’s nudges got stronger (the couch was really comfortable, you totally understood Luke now) you sat up and looked at Julie. “Who’s going to tell them?” you said with a heavy voice and felt how the couch dipped beside you. Raising your eyebrows you quickly glanced to the side (obviously not seeing anybody or anything) and looked back at Julie questioningly. 

She nodded, telling you that it was indeed Reggie and gave you the okay to drop the bomb.

You sighed as you turned back around, facing the wall on the other side of the studio and hoped that Reggie would ignore the fact that you were probably talking to his ear or something. “So Reggie… the help you gave us on the math final? Well…,” you couldn’t keep your face straight any longer and jumped onto the couch, “WE ACED IT! I WOULD HUG YOU IF YOU WEREN’T MADE OUT OF CUTE AIR!” (Okay… maybe there was a little bit too much serotonin involved.)

Julie added smiling, “And I’m happy to announce that due to my good grades my father allowed Julie and The Phantoms to play at the upcoming Summer Music Festival!”

A guitar riff filled the studio, followed by a short drum intro and with a ‘puff!’ the boys appeared in front of you, beaming and glowing at the news. Reggie even threw a wink at you when you smiled back and said: “Thank you!”

Don't look down 'Cause we're still rising Up right now And even if we hit the ground We'll still fly Keep dreaming like we'll live forever But live it like it's now or never!

This allowed LUKE…

The music festival was an experience you would never forget. You were very happy Ray managed to persuade your parents to let you accompany Julie (sadly Flynn had no such luck). Not only did you turn 17 and the boys made sure to have the whole crowd sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to you (as soon as you were back home you would add an extra point to your to-do: ‘find out how to kill ghosts a second time’), but the boys rocked the stage and Julie stood up taller and shined brighter than ever before. 

Gone (yet not forgotten) were the painful shocks and the fear of never performing again and the serenity of the guys was visible. 

It was the last night of the music festival when Julie got the phone call from her father. He would come by to get her the next morning and they would drive directly to visit other family members and spend the rest of the summer holidays there. 

Of course, Julie was excited to see her cousins and aunts and uncles again, but she also felt bad to leave you to drive back alone (you had come with your car jam-packed with all the necessary equipment you needed and that wasn’t provided by the festival).

“Don’t worry! It’s only a four-hour drive! I’ve got good music, podcasts and audiobooks to keep me company and back home Flynn will be waiting. It sadly looks like I’m going to survive without you.” 

Early the next morning Julie and some newfound fans of Julie and The Phantoms helped you load the equipment into your car and you said goodbye to Julie. Expecting the boys to just directly puff back to Los Feliz you didn’t waste any time and entered your car, connected your phone with the stereo and started to blast your favourite Broadway musicals.

You must’ve been on the road for half an hour when suddenly the playlist stopped and ‘Wake Up’ started to play.

So wake that spirit, spirit!

Confused you scrunched up your nose and touched the touch screen displaying the music system, trying to change it back to your playlist. But instead, the music changed yet again.

(Don't stop me now) 'Cause I'm having a good time (Don't stop me now) Yes, I'm havin' a good time I don't want to stop at all

“What the hell?” you muttered, staring at your stereo for a quick second before focusing back on the road, “Why you always going crazy on me dude?”

Once again the music switched.

Why you gotta be so rude? Don't you know I'm human too?

It took you a hot minute to understand what was going on and then you couldn’t stop laughing. 

Don't laugh at me, don't call me names Don't get your pleasure from my pain

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you said mockingly, looking at the empty passenger seat, guessing that that’s where your invisible friend was sitting. “Your pain? I’m not the one who is able to puff wherever and whenever their heart desires and who sneaks up on innocent people.”

Silence. 

“For what it’s worth. I’m sorry. I really am. It’s not like you choose this life, you deserved better than this. But I’m really glad I was able to get to know you. I’m really thankful for the light and happiness you brought back into Julie’s life.”

Don't you worry 'bout a thing

But I'm still learnin' to

using technology

You laughed. “Impressive skills nevertheless. Knowing three fitting songs and then changing them at the right time? Let me guess, Luke? Because I don’t think all of you three would fit into my tiny car full of musical equipment.”

At first, there was no music yet again, but then the slow melody of a (for you) well-known song flooded your car. It was the one Trevor Wilson song you never understood until you met the boys, the one song that was so totally different to his usual rock sound (except for the refrains, which, as you later would find out, were parts of the original lyrics Luke wrote for his version of the song).

I sing to remember the stories that used to be But I don’t write to create what could have been And as I scream words into the darkness around me They come out like a dying whisper

The kindest thing to do is to silence them and let them die To unleash my heartfelt sorrow into the sky  And diminish the will to fight That pulses like fire and screams with pain through my veins

But life’s not always beautiful, it’s rare So I’mma chase it, watch you make it

Don’t need to introduce himself You will want to know his name Pushing your foundations down  He is here to stay

Don’t call him a breeze when he’s a hurricane Don’t call him a tremble when he’s an earthquake Don’t call him an inconvenience Please just say his name

Leaving lyrics in my hands That I swallow like pills Like hurtful words, they rip and claw And press painfully against my chest

But no matter how painful they are I will soak them up, thinking of our hopes and wishes And as each word pushes a new pulse through my veins I keep staring out on the grave of our shared space of mind

Life’s not always beautiful, but it’s rare So I’mma chase it, watch you make it

Don’t need to introduce himself You will want to know his name Pushing your foundations down  He is here to stay

Don’t call him a spark when he’s a lightning bolt Don’t call him a flicker when he’s a raging flame Don’t you dare to underestimate him Please just say his name

But even when the word flood finally comes to an end Fidgeting hands remind me of music never played

I owe him my voice I owe him my sound

So I give him this time I give him this space To sing it out loud To let him declare And let me be proud

What’s his name? (His name is Luke!) What’s his name? (His name is Luke!) What’s his name? (His name is Luke!)

How long do we say his name? (Until we explode!)

My name is Luke! (Tell your friends!)

Tears were rolling down your cheeks, the song now more emotional than ever before. You couldn’t imagine how this song must affect Luke. Thinking that his bandmate abandoned him (which honestly… he kind of did, only mentioning him in one song, not giving any money to their parents and so on) up until he heard the song for the first time.

“Luke…”

Forget about it Let's forget about it

The ensuing silence wasn’t awkward. You hummed along to the music Luke selected, sometimes it were old classics (probably his favourites), other times it seemed to be random newer hits he probably never heard before mixed with some songs from your favourite playlists.

It was nearing midday and your stomach made itself known. As if on cue a road sign hinted at a diner just up ahead. Setting the blinker you pulled into the parking lot a few moments later.

“I hope you don’t mind. I know home’s only like an hour away, but...” you began to trail off, not knowing where to look at and your stomach finished your sentence. And before you were able to grab the door handle it sprung wide open. 

“Uh, what a gentleman. Thank you very much.”

The meal was over in a flash and once more you realised how much the boys actually knew about you without having actually interacted with you (perks of seeing other people without being seen themselves?). 

It’s like Luke could read your wishes just from your facial expressions. Whenever you needed salt or pepper they were right there. Whenever something was too salty or had too much pepper on your drink was being pushed closer to your side. And when you accidentally spilt something and needed more napkins they magically appeared.

When you then spotted a cute little guitar keychain that reminded you of Luke that was being sold as a souvenir at the check-out it was suddenly safely tucked into your back pocket (though that was really really risky, and while you did not condone it you couldn’t really stop a ghost).

Back in your car, you didn’t even bother to turn on the stereo, knowing that Luke would take over as soon as your hands were on the steering wheel again. 

However, a glance to your right presented you with a map of your surroundings, a big x hastily drawn over the Silverwood Lake in San Bernardino, which was basically just around the corner.

“You want to go swimming? We- I just ate! And my bathing suit is somewhere under that mountain of equipment on the backseat.”

Let's just get naked, just for a laugh Let's just get naked It's a trip and a half

You laughed at that, rolling your eyes and shaking your head, before stowing the map away and turning on the car. “I guess catching Reggie in the shower isn’t enough anymore?”

Hey!

“You started making it weird buddy.”

It had started to rain when you finally pulled up in your driveway, but you couldn’t be bothered to rush inside, enjoying the feeling of the cooling wetness on your skin.

“Look at that,” you said to nobody in particular, not knowing if Luke was still around or if he puffed back to the garage, “I didn’t even need to go swimming after all.”

He was. Sitting in the passenger seat, face on his arms while he leaned on the open car window, he watched you dance in the rain with a smile on his face. He was glad he decided to stick around and keep you company on that road trip. You gave him the courage to listen to My Name Is Luke for the first time (and getting to see you smile while showing off his impressive music knowledge was a bonus too). Because without knowing, you were doing little deeds for the boys too.

And made ALEX…

Whoever wrote that “Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass. It's about learning how to dance in the rain”-quote totally forgot to mention how dangerous small summer storms can be. 

Well sure, it might have been your fault for staying out for too long and deciding to let the sun that came out a little bit later dry you instead of changing into fresh and dry clothes, but whatever happened happened and you got sick. (It’s not like you had anything better to do during the last few days of your summer holidays, right?) 

Flynn had been a great friend and hung out almost daily at your house, playing board games, watching movies or tv or even just discussing upcoming Julie and The Phantoms possibilities with you. But your dearest little helper had been Alex.

The blond drummer had turned into the tall brother you never had but always wanted (focus on tall because the age thing with ghosts is seriously confusing) even if he was invisible to you 100% of the time. You had the same interests and were able to bond without actually having to say any words, little gestures and reciprocations on your side were more than enough.

Julie had come up with an easy solution and had bought you some of those sound buzzers (like the ones that dogs and cats use to communicate with their owners) and recorded some simple words and phrases the boys liked to use on them. Now the boys just had to press them to be able to communicate with you without having to use pen and paper or Julie herself (sure your parents were a little bit weary and confused, but you said it was for a longer school research project and that shut them up).

Now, feeling way better than during the last few days, but still very tired, you were sitting in your bed, not really focused on the tv show (or was it a movie?) that was playing on your computer. You had been contemplating and mentally preparing yourself to get something to eat and to drink for the past 15 minutes, but the thoughts alone were exhausting and binding you to the bed. Just then a tray with a water bottle, meds and a fruit bowl floated into your room. 

Suddenly wide awake and full of energy you clumsily jumped out of your bed and grabbed the tray, throwing a quick glance out of the door to see if your parents were around and slammed the door shut, wincing at the loud sound and hoping that Alex had walked out of the way (not that it would have hurt him, but you know - rude).

“Rude.” 

See? He thought the same. (Julie had to specifically add this word for Alex.) 

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. But I would like not to get murdered or have Sam and Dean Winchester on my back because my parents think I’m possessed and need to be exorcised.”

“Me.”

“You what?”

“Me.”

“Alex… I need more context.”

“I do. Me.”

You just blinked blankly at the sound buzzers, trying to piece together what Alex was trying to say.

“Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. M-”

“THAT’S ENOUGH Y/N! WHATEVER THAT SCHOOL PROJECT IS, TELL IT I HEARD IT AND I DON’T CARE WHAT IT WANTS!” you heard your father's scream come muffled through the door.

The audience laughter from sitcoms filled your room and you groaned, grabbing a pillow and smashing it against your face.

Faintly you heard the telltale sound of a pen scribbling something on paper and when you peeked from behind the pillow a note was floating in the air in front of you. “You mean exorcise ME! You would be the one surviving!” 

“What? Oh my god… yeah okay, YOU get exorcised… same thing. Both aren’t allowed to happen. Forgive my fever brain.”

“No.”

“Fork you, Alex.”

“No.”

“I have Carlos on speed-dial, I’m sure he already came up with other methods to get rid of ghosts other than the salt thing. He already told me that he’s sorry and that he thinks I might get haunted by you too with the amount of time I spend at their house.” 

“No. Food.”

Confused at that topic change it took you a few seconds to answer. “What?” Looking around your gaze landed on the tray that you had deposited on your desk. “Oh right! Boy, I completely forgot how thirsty and hungry I am. Did I say thank you? Fang u!” you mumbled with your mouth full of fruit. 

“No. Food.”

You swallowed down your food and took a big gulp of water. “Yes Alex, thank you. I am eating. You see? Here I am, here’s the food. The food is here and now whoops - ifs gan!”

You could basically feel the annoyance radiating from the ghost and weren’t really shocked when the pen started to scribble something down again.

“No! Argh!” He really wrote Argh… that dork really wrote Argh! “You can be worse than Reggie sometimes, but you do it on purpose and I’m just sorry for Reggie. A) Carlos thinks he got rid of us by making a french dip and B) You’re awfully lively for a supposedly sick person. I might need to use the buzzers more and see what other reactions I can provoke from your parents.”

Crumbling the note in your hands you thought ‘Challenge accepted’. “You know what? I think I’mma go back on Reggie’s offer and actually let him introduce me to Wilbur. He might know some stuff I could use to blackmail you. And you’re right! I feel much better, just very tired, but that’s nothing a little bit of fresh air can’t fix! Toodles!” 

You left your room, leaving a flabbergasted ghost behind who had lost his snapback with the number of times he had been combing through his hair with his hands. And while angrily pressing a pink buzzer, the buzzer wasn't the only thing that screamed “WILLIAM!” after the girl. (That was another important sound Alex wanted to have recorded.)

.•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•.

Taglist: @sunsetcurvej​​ @ifilwtmfc​

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #jatp x reader #julie and the phantoms x reader #luke patterson x reader #reggie peters x reader #alex mercer x reader #jatp imagine #julie and the phantoms imagine #jatp fanfiction #julie and the phantoms fanfiction #jatp one shot #jatp oneshot #julie and the phantoms oneshot #julie and the phantoms one shot #my writing #viascribbles

[uniquevocashark]

Tea and Ice Lattes

Part 2

tw cussing and mentions of pain

...

Rosalyn relieves you of work immediately after the Countess leaves, and Maxwell spreads the salve on you before you can bloody your cheek.

“Hey,” he snaps his fingers in front of you and you jolt upright. “Hey, stay with us.”

You look around and find that the back room is trashed, the chairs thrown about and the table flipped over. Rosalyn has your arm trapped against the wall, your fingers twitching back and forth. You open your mouth to speak but your jaw aches so bad you snap it shut.

“Here.” Rosalyn murmurs, and spreads a bit more salve on your face. Your eyes water but the pain fades eventually. “You should go home until this heals.” She counsels, letting go of your arm slowly.

You rub your cheek and wince.

It takes longer to heal than you think it should.

The first three days you’re never far from an ice pack and you burn through three quarters of the salve before the pain cools. Rosalyn checks up on you those days, often with jars or bowls that someone left for you at the store of foods so soft you can suck them up a straw. After that, Maxwell takes her place, though he doesn’t stay long.

A week after your incident, he comes by with a large purple box, wrapped with a ribbon softer than anything you had in your house. The card stuck to it was equally as soft and shone like spun silver under the light.

“Hey,” You greeted him, “What the fuck is this?”

“Yeah.” He laughed uncomfortably, then handed the box over. It’s too large to fit under your arm, so you end up carrying it like a forklift with your arms out and palms up. You wonder how he even managed to carry it up the stairs, let alone fit it through the doorways.

Your name is written in large, loopy cursive on the letter, in letters too large to have been comfortable to write with a normal sized hand. “Do I need to worry about this?”

“Oh, nah,” He shrugged, “We did the cat test, and it turned out fine.”

“The cat test?”

“Yeah, the cat test.”

“Elaborate, please?”

“It’s an old superstition about the Dimitrescu’s. Nothing dangerous,” He assures you when you look at the box suspiciously, “We rubbed a couple cats on it.”

“You rubbed cats on the box?”

“Yeah. We held them up like Simba and rubbed them on the box.”

“Alright then,” You say, “Which one is it from?”

“I don’t know,” He paused, checking his watch, “hey, I gotta go. Adrian and I are going on a lunch date.”

“Oh, right. Have fun!”

“Yeah. See you later.”

…

By nightfall, after you’ve managed a dinner of chicken nuggets and creamed corn, you still haven’t opened the box. It’s very picturesque unopened, like those aesthetic photos you see sometimes. The letter, too, is very nice, with a proper wax seal to close it.

It smells distinctly like the Countess, which makes your face itch so badly you have to flee to the kitchen and get the salve to calm yourself down. You make yourself a coffee. It isn’t a good thing to do, especially so late at night, but you drain two cups before you can force yourself back into the lounge.

The letter isn’t anything special though, or particularly harmful. It’s a long three pages of an obvious copy paste offering all kinds of platitudes and condolences that don’t really have anything to do with you. The only thing of note is the handwritten note at the end, which differs from the mechanical writing of the letter with thick cursive in red ink.

To whom it may concern,

I hope this gift will convince my errant daughter that my apologies to you are sincere, and that I didn’t mean any truly debilitating harm to a lovely creature like yourself.

With my full regards,

Countess Dimitrescu

“Creepy.” You say to no one and through the letter back on the table.

You take the lid of the box and are met with a mountain of velvet. Beneath the lilac layers is a set of teacups and a finely filigreed book. The book is an 1898 version of Bram Stoker’s Dracula, which is a little on the nose, considering the Dimitrescu family history.

The teacups though are too large for you, more like a soup cup than anything, painted delicately on each of the sides are birds. One depicts a duck, another a hummingbird, and another a kingfisher. They’re a little impractical, especially since you don’t drink tea, but they are lovely.

Hidden in one of the teacups is a bundle of duck fluff and feathers and a small portrait of a very happy duck in a finely made suit.

…

You decide to treat the teacups like a white elephant, because they are no doubt expensive, and you want to have them sit around for a little bit before you use them. The book is even worse to look after, because you have no idea how to keep it pristine and end up keeping it along with the duck portrait in the box.

Thursday rolls through with a lazy breeze and light snow. It’s spring, and the icicles on your windows are a little smaller than they were yesterday. Maxwell comes by practically glowing, and he spends the walk to work gushing over his boyfriend. They went a town over to have lunch, where the place was built half in the woods and half out of it.

You’re barely into the rhythm of work before you’re swamped. It is nice to be able to do something again, that isn’t scratch your cheek and watching the same series for the fourth time, so despite the heavy work load you find yourself smiling.

Today must be a special day too, because Alcina walks in around one, wearing a perfect purple pantsuit and sleek black and red heels. She seems surprised to see you, and her smile is more genuine than she usually directs at other people.

“You’re better.” She says by way of greeting, leaning forward more so than usual as she stands at the counter.

“I am!” You smile, straightening your apron, “Your usual today?”

Her chest gives a little peep. You peek lower than you usually would and see a duckling in the fold of her jacket, its beak peeking between her fingers. Alcina clears her throat, her smile a little more sheepish, “That was a yes.”

Her duck peeps again and she remains by the counter, watching you make the drinks.

“Archibald,” You hear her admonish quietly, her voice thick and disappointed, “That is very naughty, young man.”

Archibald peeps quietly again, and it sounds cheeky. You glance over and see Archibald held to her eye level, her lips pursed, and eyes narrowed.

“Are you taking it to go?” You ask after a second, not sure if interrupting is rude or not.

“No,” She says calmly, at odds with the face she gives her duckling, “Here is fine.”

You look at her a second longer, the way her face isn’t drawn or tight. Alcina languidly strokes the top of Archibald’s head, and she seems calmer than the last time you say her.

She catches your eye, “Yes?”

“Oh, nothing.” You smile and she looks away.

…

“I wanted to ask a question.” Alcina says as she comes up to pay.

“Yes?” You reply.

“Would you accompany me to an event this weekend?”

You deposit the money into the till. You weren’t, precisely, busy. Being cooped up at home for the week with nothing to do meant that you had powered through your household chores. Archibald, as if he could sense you debating, waddled towards you on the counter and shook his little tail feathers. He was from a large breed, almost twice as large as your hand, and he nudged at your fingers until you pet him gently.

“If it’s on Saturday, then yes.” You say.

Her fingers shook for a second and her voice was smooth as cream as she whipped a pair of black glasses onto her face. “Excellent. I’ll pick you up at ten on Saturday?”

“From the store,” You say quickly.

Alcina scooped Archibald into her hands, “Yes! Yes, of course.”

You gave her the receipt. “I’ll see you Saturday then.”

“Yes, Saturday.”

She strode from the store more quickly than you’ve ever seen her move. You looked at Maxwell and he looked at you before cracking a smile.

“Holy shit.” He laughed, “She asked you out.”

“I guess she did.” You say lightly.

He wiggled his eyebrows. “Somebody has a crush.”

You flip him off.

#alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #tea and ice lattes #my writing #duck finally returns #coffee shop AU

[nachohypno]

Pine’s Football Jocks (Rewritten) - Ch. 2

Little heads up: This one is a weird thing. It’s a rewritten version of the original Pine’s Football Jocks, but it contains spoilers for the college series, so it should still be read after reading the other ones (Original included) first, like a sequel.

------

Present Pine's POV 

I had an awful day. Nothing bad really happened, just a lot of stuff to do and me not being capable of doing it all. Skipping today's football practice, I had to take a bus to the sports club and check out that everything was working out (Hah, see what I did there?) with the coaches that were working today. I needed more employees? Yes. But keeping up with the maintenance while still having to do my college essays during my free times was actual hell.

I think I'm smart enough to keep being one of the best of my class (Spot that I'm afraid I'll lose soon), but I don't have enough energy to do all of this at once.

I'm not going to lie, these many responsibilities are *burning me out*. I'm heavily considering giving up the football team back to Peter (Of course, keeping him under control and checked), or set a new manager for the sports club. It's a hard choice, but I'm not going to stop studying to keep track of those two little jobs I got for myself. I also love those jocks way too much to let them go.

Have you spent an evening with them? The revamped football team is lovely! They're always joking around and being nice whenever they're not on the field or studying. Gotta spread the jock love around the campus, right?

Taking care of Mike wasn't an easy task either. The big guy was heavily expecting news to know if he would be able to play again without any risks, or if he'd have to focus completely on getting his college degree.

Mikey wasn't used to being restricted before, he's the physical kind of guy and likes to spend a good amount of time working out or playing sports, or chilling in a physical kind of way. Videogames could keep him entertained, but only so much.

So, he went back to his other favorite hobby...

I sat on the couch, leaving my laptop on my lap readying myself to check out some documents, and suddenly heard an awfully loud fart. Jumping up again, I realized I had sat on Mike's whoopee cushion. A loud laugh could be heard from the couch. 

"Never gets old! I was wondering how much you would take to sit on that one spot, because filling the couch with whoopee cushions would be quite expensive!" He said while walking into the room, as I took the cushion and threw it at him, but the shot failed awfully.

The guy was wearing a football jersey that looked like a pajama shirt without the armor underneath it. It still managed to make his pecs stand out a bit, which made me take the work off my mind for a bit and I was thankful for that.

I tried to be comprehensive, it was either that or watch his football team play without him while he's on the bench. Or study, but that was always slow and boring for him when he’s not ordered to do so. 'Nothing better than being stuck in here, with an amazing boyfriend, and just being able to read books about biology' He'd say, jokefully, trying to take a bright look at his situation.

I thought about hiring him as one of the club's trainers, since he has a good amount of knowledge on the matter, already helps anyone who'd ask him nicely, and he wouldn't need to make a lot of effort with his bad arm!

...Better than having him prank me all day, I guess. Or laying around while groaning ‘I’m boreeeeeeeed…’

Loud steps and he jumped over the couch to sit down beside me. “Hey there, bro. How was your day? Went to my classes and did all my homework already. Need help with anything?”

“Not really, just gotta finish examining these documents Peter forwarded me and I’ll be done for the day” Just a bit longer and I would be free from work!

“Did coach Peter mention something about me? Maybe he can pull some strings and allow me to… I dunno, take a magic drug that’ll heal my arm and make me into a super soldier?” I can see he has been watching movies lately.

“You know what the doctor said. Just a few more weeks and-”

He rolled his eyes. "C'moooon, just a few more weeks could be enough for that temporary quarterback to steal my spot!" He's so paranoid about that.

"Who's the coach?" I asked him, pushing my glasses back into place.

"You are, bro, but-"

"Thus, who has the final choice about who plays and who doesn't?" I didn't try to sound dominant, but it kind of came out like that on its own.

"You do, sir." Mike answered, sounding a bit defeated. I motioned him to come closer, and he did, then I grabbed his hand and pulled him in to lay on my lap (Being careful and leaving the laptop beside me to make room for him).

"Just relax, let your arm get better, then you'll be back on the field in no time, alright?" I whispered to him, trying to sound confident. A little kiss on his lips, and he nodded.

"Sure, whatever you say." He sighed.

I ruffled his hair. "Good boy, now... Want to hear the rest of the story? You fell asleep yesterday" Maybe that would get his mind off things again. It seemed to make wonders yesterday.

"Really? Oh, fuck. Where were we?" Mike asked, scratching the back of his head nervously. "I remember the outing, I went to change, then we resumed with some time later on?"

"Before I got my powers, yeah." I finished, turning around from him and looking for the doc file on my laptop. "Well, take a seat. I have some time so we can continue the story where we left it..."

As I grabbed my laptop, Mike got up and positioned himself belly down on the couch, occupying the rest of available space while getting comfortable (He kind of didn’t fit while doing that, so he had to keep his legs up to actually fit his whole torso on the couch).

I chuckled, before leaving the laptop on my lap again and looking over for the spot I left it at yesterday...

-----

Past Pine's POV

Nighttime already. My arm was still hurting, but quite less than earlier today.

My family was nice. Mom and dad are nice, and my big brother Dwight sometimes comes to visit after a big exam. He's not a jock, but he's not a nerd either. You learn to differentiate them after a while. Just those two sides of the spectrum exist for me: Nice guys, and not so nice guys. He's nice, but loves to bug me from time to time. ‘Middle point’ is how I describe him.

It's understandable though, I'm easy to bug.

I honestly just wanted to go to sleep, and silently count the days until my graduation. Then, I'd be able to enter some random college, hopefully a great one, and be done with this.

After dinner, I went up to the bathroom and checked out my arm. It didn’t look bad, nor it had any sign of me having been shoved. Just a little pain, but nothing else. I could cope with that.

Going back to my room afterwards, I dropped to bed and just reminded myself it would all be over soon. A nice career waiting for me after college if I worked hard enough, then the good life!

A little smile formed on my face as I fell asleep.

Okay, I'm not a big dreamer. Like, I never have dreams, and if I do they're weird things where I get run over by cars out of nowhere or medieval-like settings. Like my mind is setting up these weird scenarios to keep myself entertained even when I sleep, but I often forget about them quickly so no point on that either.

This time, it was like I was awake, but at the same time I kind of knew I was asleep.

A lullaby was being hummed, I was on my bed covered by my sheets, the ones that protect me from monsters!

The lullaby was nice and relaxing, but it felt like... it came from inside my head? Imagine being in your bed all comfy and suddenly Zelda's Lullaby starts playing on your head and makes you feel like everything is alright but nothing is alright because there are still months of bullying waiting for you at school but those thoughts are also getting muffled by the nice lullaby, which made not want to move at all.

The thing kept going for a few minutes, which developed into a nice sleep for the night as I forgot about my worries. Like I was a bit more 'in control' of my anxieties.

One thing was for certain, that was the best sleep I had in a goooood while.

------

The relaxation didn't last long.

I felt sick. I really didn't want to go to school today. One thing was for certain, that was one hell of a weird dream, but also quite amazing.

I had a really bad headache, but it didn't feel fever-ish. I could move myself without any pain, so I thought it was just a lack of sleep. 'Maybe a coffee will help me out...' I thought, as I got up from bed and lazily walked out. According to my phone, I woke up way sooner than I should have to. But maybe that'd give me time to enjoy a nice breakfast. Believe me, I'm not in a hurry to go to school anymore.

'Ugh... Can't see...' I thought. I liked to wash my face before putting my glasses on. Helps me wake up faster, maybe it'd help with the headache too.

Walking out of my room in my pajamas, with my glasses in hand.

I yawned, rubbing my eyes.

"Watch it!" I heard my brother saying. He had come out of his own room and we almost crashed into each other. He didn't sound mad, just a bit annoyed. "Rough night?"

"Uh... kinda," I mumbled, trying to process all the stuff he just said.

My older brother patted my back "Don't stay up studying for too long, you'll forget half of it once you graduate anyways." He said in a funny voice. As I mentioned, he's nice. Loves to bug me and my love for disconnecting from the world by just... reading books, but he's still a good brother.

"Never, heheh." I tried to seem cool, finger gunning at him, but Dwight just laughed at me. "Hey, you're heading downstairs, right?" He nodded. He was wearing some joggins and a sweatshirt, so I guessed he was going to jog for a while. "Turn the coffee machine on, please. I wouldn’t mind a good breakfast today…” I said, holding my stomach with my empty hand. I was hungry, not going to lie.

I didn't get an answer from him, but instead noticed him walking away without a single word. Quite rude I thought, but decided to shrug the thought off and go to the bathroom.

After washing my face, I placed my hand on my forehead. It was normal, no fever, but the pain was still there. I could ask mom if I should take some medicine, but she may still be asleep.

A little part of me wanted to use this as an excuse to miss school today. Imagine getting through the whoooole day, with Garrett and his army of neanderthals following your ass all day, and not in the good way.

Walking downstairs, still in my pajamas, I noticed Dwight walking out of the kitchen and heading outside already. I opened my mouth to ask if he did my coffee, but he faced me as soon as he noticed my presence.

“Hey, made you some quick breakfast. Enjoy, Piney! Gonna jog for a while, alright?” I nodded, kind of wondering what got to him. It’s like, he’s not really a bad brother, but he wouldn’t make me breakfast even if I asked reeaaaally nicely.

I stood there as I watched him leave the house. I went to the kitchen afterwards, and noticed Dwight prepared me a mug of coffee and left a cereal bar next to it. Hey, he tried! That’s what counts.

I enjoyed my quick breakfast as I watched a bit of TV, trying to make time before going to school, but I figured I wouldn’t be able to do that. Even if I tried to take it slow, I felt compelled to finish quickly and go back to my room to change.

Sucks being such a responsible asshole! But whatever, my mug was empty and I finished my cereal bar.

Just had to get ready, head to school and… try to be a ninja around there, because this headache wasn’t going off.

---------

Hours later, it had been a good day so far!

I mean, as good as a school day can be, of course, but I still really enjoyed my classes! No jocks nearby either, so that’s another plus!

My headache wasn’t there anymore, luckily. It’s like the world was turning brighter for me each moment I thought about it. I had fun in math and literature, Garrett and a few of his teammates were there, but either they didn’t notice me or my ninja skills (Aka lowering my head to the point of seeming stuck to the table) helped a lot!

And now, I just had to head to my locker, leave last class’s book in there and grab the next one, and keep doing as well as-

“Oh hey, it’s faggot!”

Spoke too soon.

I didn’t look back, I tried to pick up my pace as soon as I heard the familiar voice, but it seemed to be quite pointless.

Garrett grabbed me by the shoulders, and dragged me into an empty classroom. My attempt to make a stealthy escape failed miserably and I was now getting one of my weekly’s beat ups. The sad part was that nobody in the corridor seemed to notice or care.

Closing the door after throwing me in, I started walking away from him. Maybe I could loop him around some tables, I saw that working in a video game!

“What’s up, faggot? Scared of a real man like me?” He slapped his chest, asserting his dominance or something? Fuck, and I thought this was going to be a good day.

The guy chuckled at his comment, before charging against me. I avoided him, and started walking around a desk, trying to avoid him by keeping a good chunk of distance and going towards the opposite direction he tried to go. I knew he was getting mad quite fast, but I didn’t care. If I could slow him down enough for the bell to ring, I’d be happy and safe!

Good thing that this was a biology/chemistry classroom. The desks were long enough for me to keep distance from the big mean guy, and if he tried to attack me I could maybe grab something from the desk and get him off me…

Fuck, my thoughts about self-defense using chemistry instruments distracted, and Garrett was now a few feet away from me now. He enjoyed this little cat and mouse game, it got him in the mood for ‘a good beating’. I wonder if he’s mentally sick or something like that, because he enjoys this a lot.

“Fuck, you’re really putting on a show today, ain’t ya?” He mumbled, grabbing me by the wrist and twisting it to make me move closer to him.

“Let… go!” I told him, covering my face with my free hand just in case he tried to hit me.

And surprisingly, he did.

Of course, I didn’t stop covering my face. But I did notice the jock was standing there, his face still showing off that proud asshole-ish grin. “Wait… you’re letting me go?” I asked, with some hope in my voice. Maybe Garrett wasn’t so bad after all!

“Uh… yeah… no need to hold you to beat you up!” He resumed. After that little ‘realization’, the linebacker tried to charge at me without a single doubt on his face. He was really enjoying this

After that, the guy walked closer and held his fist up preparing his first strike. Before that would happen, I yelled “Stop!”. What, you thought I’d stand there waiting for the blow? I’m not an idiot! Hopefully, someone would hear me and rush inside the classroom!

Once again, I was surprised to realize Garrett did as I said. Or sort of. He froze in place, still smiling with his fist high. I kept walking away but my bully didn’t move at all. By this point, I knew something wrong was going on. I mean, I’m not saying I would have preferred for him to beat me up, but I was pretty curious about what was happening.

“Man, can’t wait to freaking beat you up today. Had an awful morning and I need my favorite punching bag to get off” But he still wouldn’t move.

“Then… what are you waiting for?” I was tempting him now. What if this was just a very elaborated joke and he would just break my glasses with a single punch?

“I dunno. Just wanna prolong it to scare you a bit more, I guess” He shrugged. He freaking shrugged, like we were chatting about a normal subject, not beating me up.

I loved that last ‘I guess’ though. It kind of gave me a little push to try out if this was really happening or I was just going crazy while Garrett played around with me like a spider.

“Can you put your arms down?” I asked him, and he did so. He still retained his cocky smile, but he just seemed alright with doing what I just asked him to do for me. “Uhm… Flex now?” And he did as I asked.

Okay, I’m not going to say I lust after this piece of poop, but these biceps oh lord. I wondered if he was on steroids or something. Can a senior student really be that muscled?

He’s 18, like most of my class and his whole team, but I think he’s one of the biggest ones I’ve seen in there. “Can tell you’re really thirsty, nerd. No wonder why, always knew you had a crush on me. Sick pervert…” He mumbled.

“Don’t worry. I wouldn’t mind being as far from you as possible.” I was cocky and I shouldn’t act like that. “But now that you mention it, I’d like to examine you closer and I’m sure you won’t try to harm me in any way.”

Uh… his eyes seemed weird, but before I could check them out, they returned to normal as he started speaking again. “Of course I won’t. Why would I waste my energy in a lil’ faggot like you?” Was his answer, before I walked closer to him. He was still flexing his arms, pecs noticeable under his shirt. Baby stepping towards him, I reached out and started touching his arms first.

“Not going to lie… you do have some nice muscles…” I mumbled, bringing my other arm to feel him up too. I was shaking, my heart was beating like crazy, but I couldn’t help myself. Garrett was exposing himself to me like it was a normal thing to do.

“I know I do. Chicks love ‘em, but you don’t know about that, huh faggot? You look skinny as a twig.” Ouch. I mean, it wasn’t really something hurtful, especially since he told me worse things before.

It was a good chance to try out if this was an elaborate joke or not. “Hey, that wasn’t nice at all. You should apologize, Garrett. Pretty sure you just want to be a nice guy to me, don’t you?” I took a step back again, because there was a 50% chance it would actually be a big joke and he was just playing along until this point.

“Y’know what? You’re right, nerd. I’m sorry. Would hate if someone body-shamed me too… Uh…” I was really surprised. Jaw-dropping surprise. Here was Garrett, the king of the football team, the big meanie, the superior asshole, apologizing to me after I suggested him to do so. I think I noticed his eyes getting glazed as he spoke? I couldn’t tell, there was a few inches of distance and my glasses weren’t helping now.

“Thank… you?” I didn’t know how to take what was going on. Maybe I was still dreaming! Hmm… No, dreams aren’t this long. Something definitely happened, and Garrett is doing what I tell him to do.

I looked up at him, as he stared around, probably trying to avoid looking at me or I just wasn’t worth his attention anymore.

My bully didn’t seem so menacing anymore, he just looked like a normal guy. It doesn’t erase the fact that he brought me so much pain before but… he was just exploring the area with his gaze now, like he just got bored of me and wanted something else to focus on.

I still don’t know if I’m doing something or if he just decided to be less of an asshole suddenly, but it seems that he’s reacting quite obediently to what I’m saying. Remembering that we are in an empty classroom that may not stay empty for too long, I decided we may just leave the scene and try out more stuff later, for testing purposes.

“So… I’m going to my next class now…” I started to say, and Garrett looked at me again.

The jock nodded. “Yeah… I should do the same, nerd. Uh…” Again, he seemed confused. Scratching the back of his head, he turned around and started walking towards the classroom’s door.

“But… Uhm… I think you should invite me over to your place after school…” I had to find the words for this to not sound weird, but it was almost impossible. How do you suggest someone to invite them to your place? I’m not a very social guy either, so that added a bit of doubt if what I was saying was normal or not. “You know, for a good study session with your favorite nerd?”

I tried to appeal to the nickname he gave me. It was better than ‘faggot’ at least. Garrett stared at me, like waiting for me to finish talking, before flashing a smile. “Yeah, of course we’re going to my place. I’ll take ya after school, I guess?” His confusion was still notorious, but he seemed to try and take the best out of this. It was quite nice from him.

After he walked out of the classroom, I did a little celebration dance. I got Garrett to not only not beat me up, but also treat me nice! I still wasn’t sure what was going on, but I’m going to enjoy this evening after school!

-----

As you may have guessed, I was kind of dying inside. Not literally, but I like to be dramatic sometimes.

Garrett waited for me after school in his car. I sat on the co-driver’s seat and just… stood there silent. He didn’t seem like a chatter box either, so it was just a nice silent moment between bully and random gay guy.

After a few moments of staring straight ahead, the jock turned the car on and drove off. His face didn’t seem confused anymore, but it was clear he wasn’t happy either. I wasn’t a blissful flower either, I knew what I was doing.

I wanted to try out this apparent new “ability” of mine, and it got me to Garrett’s house. Now I was walking into the wolf’s mouth, but he wouldn’t be as dumb as to beat me up in his own house, right?

“So… Garrett… Uh… Tell me what do you think about like… us, hanging out today?” I asked him, still nervous but trying to get the hang of whatever that was going on with me. “Oh, and uh… be honest about it, speak your mind and all that”

He eyed me, probably a bit weirded out by my choice of words, but still answered “It’s weird. I never thought I’d be driving you home, much less having a study session with you. You being, y’know, a nerdy fag and all that. It’s weird that we’re hanging out at all, we never hung out before”

Then he focuses back on the road. I did the same, not knowing what to answer. But he gave me a little push, returning the question. “What about you? Uh… Have you ever tutored someone before? I know my mates need some help”

“I used to help Mikey- Ehem, Mike, with his homework. And I find learning exciting, so helping others with it just comes naturally, you know?”

“Y’sound like a nerd. Sorry, had to point that out” He turned the wheel, and I noticed the houses looked a bit more luxurious on this side of town. Not that my house is awful or anything, but these look like really cozy places to be. I knew Garrett was wealthy, but didn’t know he lived in a mansion!

“What’s the deal with Mike anyway? I used to think you two were lovers or some shit like that, never got what he found in you.” The jock continued, without taking his eyes off the road.

I got a glimpse of his big arms as they held the steering wheel. They seemed to be holding the thing really aggressively, before letting go slowly. Like he was struggling, but it made his muscles and veins stand out a bit more.

“That’s kind of personal, so… I wouldn’t like to go there, if you don’t mind.” I tried to avoid the topic, especially because he was one of the reasons I stopped hanging out with Mike, but I don’t think he cared about it. Garrett wasn’t a nice guy.

He shrugged, “Whatever, keep the love story for yourself then. We… just arrived.” He took a moment for those last few words because he tried to park on the big driveway. The house was reaaaally nice looking. Like, not huge, but at the same time not your normal suburban house. I loved it, not going to lie.

I was in awe, as I grabbed my stuff and walked out of the car. The place was beautiful! And Garrett stopped at the front door waiting for me. He was waiting for me!

I picked up the pace and followed him in. The ‘lobby’ was good looking too. Kind of empty, but still gave that welcoming feeling you expect when you enter a house.

“So, do you prefer studying in the dining room, or my room? You’re the… teacher…? here, I guess” It didn’t feel natural for him to say that, I could tell. He was still kind of struggling, as his hands were closed and seemed to be clenching into fists, but at the same time he offered me a gentle smile.

“Your room would be perfect. We could use some extra privacy for… studying. Yeah, just studying.” I replied, as I kept looking around. I’m not going to get tired to say that this place is huge-

My little expedition was interrupted by Garrett’s pair of big hands. Taking me on a tour apparently wasn’t his goal, he just made sure I walked faster towards our destination: His bedroom, while not getting distracted by the place.

My bully only let go of me once we arrived at his room. He let me go in first, before dropping himself on his desk chair. The door was wide open, and I was tempted to close it but maybe I should make a bit of chit chat first.

Garrett’s room… It was alright. In comparison to the rest I’ve seen so far in this house, this one room looked kind of small, but still wide enough to contain Garrett’s interests. A computer, a console with a pair of joysticks, and a big bed against the wall.

“What are we going to study, by the way?” He looked at me. I took a good moment to examine his face now. No more confusion, one of his eyebrows raised, as he stared at me with friendly eyes.

His arms were still kind of twitching, but he was apparently trying to contain them by playing with one of his cord bracelets.

Now, time to keep testing my ‘power’.

“Well…” It was difficult to put it into words. He seemed to believe and/or do whatever I suggested him to do, and find out a way to make it his own idea. That’s what I theorized so far. So… “Garrett… You trust me completely.” I tried to avoid making it sound like a question, and more like an order. It was weird, but I just wanted to put more ‘power’ into my words, if that makes sense?

Now that I could see him clearly, I noticed his eyes definitely glazed over before he spoke again “I trust you completely.” After the words were said, emotion had returned to his face already. He sat down on his bed, still staring at me.

That’s great! I actually do seem to have powers! And Garrett was doing everything I said! Fuuuuuuck. This opened so many possibilities. I wanted to jump with excitement but I didn’t want Garrett to think I was weird.

“And also, we weren’t going to study,” Okay, this seems like I’m pulling his dick now. Studying was the whole reason he ‘invited’ me over, so if I pulled that out of the question, his reaction could change completely, right? Don’t mind me, just investigating here. “You asked me to come because you wanted to talk with me”

As I thought, he seemed confused again. Poor guy may be having the weirdest day of his life. But he didn’t fight me on that, he just nodded before agreeing. “Uh… Yeah…” Then he shook his head for a bit “Sorry, nerd. I’m a bit lost today. I can’t even remember what I wanted to talk about, fuck.”

The bigger guy tapped his head a few times, apparently trying to remember. Better help him ‘remember’ what he had to say, hehehe.

“It’s okay, you actually told me what you wanted to say and everything. You want to apologize for being such a dick to me” I don’t usually speak like this, but if I got him to apologize, then getting him to do anything else may be a piece of cake. And if I’m going way too far, then at least hearing that apologize would be really great on its own.

His eyes went glassy again. Great! A few seconds afterwards, he replied with a “Yeah. I’m really sorry for being such a dick to you.” And after shaking his head again, his blank face changing to a sad expression “Can’t believe I did all those awful things to you, I’m so fucking sorry, man.”

No more glazed eyes, but he didn’t seem to be tearing up exactly. I’m not a sadistic guy though, I just wanted a bit of payback after these few months. I could use the dick card and be like ‘I don’t accept that, you’ll have to do so much better for me to forgive you’.

But… I’m smarter than that.

“Okay, apology accepted, I guess.” I tried to sound uninterested, but the apology thing was enough for me to internally freak out again. Couldn’t show mercy, though! “I’ll have to think it through, but in the meantime we could… make a deal?”

Garrett raised his eyebrow, but before he could reply something or tell me to fuck off, I decided to interrupt his train of thoughts with another command. “You’re curious about what I’m talking about and you’ll accept the deal no matter what it is”

That should be explicit enough. Eyes glazed over again, as he nodded slowly.

“Yeah… I’m really curious. What do you have in mind, nerd-o?” That ‘nerd’ thing would be nice to change, but it’s not as bad as it felt before, at least!

I tried to think about exactly what I wanted to say to him, because I didn’t know if I could control this ‘persuasion’ or ‘make him obey whatever I say’ thing. So better be careful, even if he deserved an accident.

“This is the deal: You will obey everything I say and will love to do so, no questions asked. You’ll start to recognize me as your absolute superior, like… your master? Yeah, that sounds good, you will call me ‘Master’ when we’re alone.”

Garrett remained silent as I talked, which was good. No unwanted interruptions as I explained the terms of our ‘deal’! “You will treat me like your best- No, that spot is sort of still taken… You will treat me like a good friend. Understood?”

No reaction at all, until a few seconds passed. Then a smile appeared on his face. “That’s it? Of course, bro! Sounds like a great deal!”

“Wait, I’m not done.” I wanted this to be the *perfect* moment for us. Like, here was my bully, and I was about to take complete control over him. I didn’t want this to go wrong by any means. “Uh… One last thing, for now. You will start feeling attracted towards me, if that makes sense…” Would I be able to also manipulate his feelings? Only time will tell, I guess.

He didn’t freeze this time; the reaction came way faster than before. Garrett turned around to see if his door was closed, which wasn’t, so he got up to close it before answering a very proud “Yes, master! We got a deal!”

Great! It worked! Now, some testing was needed to ensure the orders I just gave him worked perfectly. First things first… “Do you mind if I call you Gary? Bit less of a mouthful than ‘Garrett’”

“No problem, Master. My bros call me Gary all the time” He stated, smiling like an idiot.

“Right, great. Uhm, stand up now Gary. And, uh… Lift your shirt up so I can check you out” I ordered. The jock in front of me didn’t hesitate, getting up from his bed and moving his hand to the bottom of his shirt, slowly lifting it up.

His abs seemed rock hard, his pecs were great looking. Was this a high school linebacker or a bodybuilder on steroids? Maybe he takes steroids for football? I don’t know, but I loved it. I moved closer and caressed his abs up and down. He just smiled at me as I admired his torso. It was weird, but also quite fun.

“What do you think about this whole… situation, Gary?” I asked, as I moved my hand up to his pecs and played with them for a bit.

“Honestly, I never thought I’d be doing this. But it’s what you want, Master, so I’m happy to do it” ‘Smart answer’ I thought.

“Uh Huh... Say, have you ever… done something with another guy?” I asked him, without taking my eyes off the pecs. “As in sexual stuff, I mean…”

“Nah, Master. I’m straight as an arrow, never done something with another guy. Prefer them chicks with big… personalities, know what I mean?” He sounded gross again for a bit, but as soon as he shut up and went back to smiling like an idiot, I was happy.

“Funny, neither did I,” I said, looking up at his face again. “And you will help me with that, don’t you?”

His smile faded. “Yes, Master.” Gary said, as I grabbed the back of his head and pulled him in for a kiss. And he was kissing back.

My first kiss was happening with my bully jock ‘slave’. Huh, that’s weird to say. Guess I’ll have to get used to it.

I didn’t know the difference between ‘good kiss’ and ‘bad kiss’. But it felt amazing, and magical, and just… it was turning me on so much. Maybe I can say that he’s an amazing kisser?

We stood like that, taking little breaks from time to time to breath, where he would smile at me and I would just blush. I don’t romantically like Garrett, he caused me so much pain, but I wanted to enjoy this. I’m not going to cause pain to him, because I’m not evil. I’m nicer than him. Better, I would say.

I found it funny that he would still hold his shirt up. I could have told him to take it off, but there was something about it that made me choose not to. I wanted to see his body, but let’s leave the full naked stuff for later.

We stopped kissing.

“So, uh… I’ve heard rumors about your… ‘thing’, down there.” I mumbled, as I groped his crotch. I wanted to sound confident, but it felt really weird after so much time of keeping myself ‘hidden’. Gary didn’t answer, he was still smiling at me. “Can I see, Gary?”

“Of course, Master. Anything you want!” He accepted, and I looked down to undo his belt and lower his jeans. Huh… It was semi-hard.

A bit veiny, 4/5’ inches semi-hard? I’m not a cock measurer, but I think that’s quite good. 

I slowly went down until I faced Gary’s cock. I wasn’t sure if I should do this. This wasn’t going to bring me any pleasure. But maybe…

“Gary, I’m going to give you the best blowjob you’ve ever had. And as I do, I want you to feel the orders and the deal we made today cemented on your mind, understood?” It could be of use for our control thing.

“Understood, Master” I dove in the cock after that. Slowly taking the tip in first and giving some gentle licks before starting to get more of Garrett’s cock inside my mouth. It wasn’t hard to do, getting it inside. And then I just had to take it in and out, being careful with the teeth and trying my best with my tongue.

“You like that?” I asked him as I rested for a few seconds, before getting it back in my mouth. It felt naughty, and awesome! Like, the adrenaline of doing the dirty stuff with another guy… Huh, and I haven’t lost my cherry yet!

“Yeah, feels great… Keep going, Master… Please…” He moaned, arms behind his head as he sported a relaxed face. I loved hearing him calling me master, not going to lie!

Although, after thinking about it for a bit, it would be better if I didn’t let him cum. Maybe I could get him to record a video of himself jerking off or something for later. Anyway…

I took the cock out of my mouth and got up. “I want you to listen carefully, okay?” Gary nodded, not seeming to care about me not finishing the job. “When in public, you will still act somewhat attached to me, like we are good friends. And if someone suspects about it you will explain that I’ve been tutoring you and that I’m an amazing teacher, understood?”

“We’re good friends, you’re helping me with tutoring, and you’re an amazing teacher. Gotcha, Master” He repeated, eyes a bit unfocused again, but still a degree of emotion on his voice.

I ruffled his hair. He would have beaten me up in the past for that, now he just smiled even more than before.

“Good… boy.” Felt amazing to say that! “Could you give me a ride home now?”

-----

Present Pine’s POV

“What’s up now?” I stopped reading after noticing Mike was frowning. Like when you see that one character you don’t like in a TV show on-screen, that type of frown. “I thought you and Gary made up with each other already?” I assumed that was the problem, the big guy may have felt a bit jealous of his former football mate.

It killed me not reading his thoughts whenever I wonder if something is wrong, but I respected my best friend and boyfriend’s mental privacy. And if Leo or any other mind controller (Assuming there are more) discovered about this, they would laugh at my face.

“I know, he’s my bro and all but you gotta admit that he was such a dick before. I’m pretty chilled but I don’t think I could have just… given a turn to his personality and called it a day” He chuckled, as I closed the laptop. “Probably would have been way unforgiving, but you’re the lead here, bro”

“Well anyway, enough story for today. Any thoughts you’d like to share? This one was one of my favorite moments of the first plan I had” I mentioned, leaving the laptop on the coffee table before setting my attention to the jockboy beside me.

“It was great, got me hooked already. It’s also a nice throwback, ‘cuz I barely remember senior year other than ‘playing lots of football’ and doing awesome pranks” Mikey said, leaning in quickly to kiss my cheek. “By the way, which guy comes next? Is it me?”

He seemed excited to know the answer. It was Brent, Garrett’s friend, but I wasn’t going to give it away. Gotta keep my public engaged!

“Sorry big guy, got to keep the mystery, hehe.” Mike looked disappointed at my answer, but I just ruffled his hair. “But hey, all this reading about mind control got me in the mood. Wanna do something?”

“Huh… my thoughts exactly” I don’t know if he intended to make a pun on me being able to read his thoughts, but I wasn’t going to put much thought into it. I had to put thoughts into his head already.

It was like flipping a switch via the mind link, and then Mike’s eyes were glassy, and he had a dumb smile that curiously reminded to that of Gary back when I first enslaved him.

“Who’s a good jock boy?” I asked, pulling Mikey closer to me.

“I am, bruh… I’m a good jock boy, huhuhuh” was his answer, before going back to smiling like a big dummy.

Doing hot stuff with Mikey while his arm was casted wasn’t all that different from before. Now he just had to use his bad arm less than before, but you can still do plenty with one arm. Like have the jock take off his shirt, revealing his nice, muscular torso.

If I weren’t careful, I would be the one drooling here. I leaned in for a kiss, and Mike kissed back.

It was just a nice little moment between the two of us. Making out without a care in the world. Certainly a good way to forget about my responsibilities, no complaints there!

----

Author’s note:

Thanks for reading! I hoped to publish this here a few weeks ago, but writing the next chapter took me more than intended, so the public release also got pushed back a bit. Sorry for that 💦. 

But, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! And thanks again for reading! <3

#PinesJocks #mind control #hypnotized #straight to gay #gay hypnosis #jock #brainwashing #brainwashed

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #427

“don’t pray for me when you’re the one enslaved”

Your ex taps you on the shoulder and says, “I still love you.” You say? I wouldn't say anything, I'm pretty sure I'd just break down. Do you play video games? Not really anymore. :/ I probably would, though, if I had the appropriate consoles for games I want. You can only replay PS2 games but so many times before you're tired of them. Do you spend a lot of time with family? No, honestly. Is your house more than two stories tall? It only has one floor. Have you ever hit your significant other? Has he/she ever hit you? I'm not in a relationship, but I have most certainly never hit an s/o, and they've never hit me. I wouldn't tolerate that shit. What makes you an attractive person? (Talk about your personality too!) I'm not. What color is your hairbrush/comb? White. What snacks do you have available in your household atm? Hm. Just some fruity grain and oats bars, as well as cashew ones. We try to keep sweets out of the house. Has anyone recently told you that they like you, or find you attractive? No. Are you attracted to the last person you Facebook messaged? Holy fuck yes, she's drop-dead gorgeous. Do you care about anyone that doesn’t care about you? Ha, I'm sure. Was your last Facebook friend requests from a male or female? Some random middle-aged man, like who are you sir. Which one of your relatives is most likely to embarrass you? My dad. He can be so rude to people sometimes. When was the last time you ate a bar of chocolate? Not sure. It's been quite a while. Do you play any games on Facebook? No. What would you like to get a degree in? It'd be nice to get a degree in Arts, but yeah... I'm never going back to school. Do you wake up a lot in the middle of the night? Pretty much every night. Would you prefer to read a book, watch a movie or TV show, or play a video game? Play a video game. Do you usually get popcorn or soda at the movie theater? Almost without fail. You've got to, it's part of the experience. What genre of films do you like the best? Horror. How many bank accounts do you have? None, actually. Have you ever had the flu? No, thankfully. What is your goal for the next few months? To start getting in shape/losing weight. I seriously hope this gym routine works out. Have you ever had some kind of sleep-disorder? How did it affect your life? I have seveeeere sleep apnea. It's shocking, I never would've guessed it, though, so the diagnosis (I had a sleep study, so yes, it's legit) was an extreme surprise. I don't snore at all, nor do I like pass out in the middle of something, but I stop breathing A LOT. For a year or two (no, that is not an exaggeration), it caused consistent, horrible, and violent nightmares/terrors. It made sleep frightening to me, and I was never getting a truly restful sleep. Now, I have an APAP mask (like a less extreme version of a CPAP mask) that helps me greatly. I only very rarely am surprised by a more subtle nightmare now. Have you ever had food poisoning before? Describe the experience. No, thankfully. What are two things that you have no problem paying full price for? Quality tattoos, for one. And maybe uhhh... idk. We're the kind of family that buys off-brand foods and drinks all the time because it's cheaper, so I can't say that. Maybe health care? Like I wouldn't want service from a sketchy dentist or something. Funny, charming, cute, romantic, smart - choose only 2 for the opposite sex. Charming and romantic. Have you ever let somebody use you? Why did you do it? No. You can go back in time & change something in your mom’s past - what is it? That's hard for me to say. She doesn't seem to like talking about her past very much, because I know it's turbulent with her mother. I would say her being disowned, but I don't know how that *actually* affected her. Maybe it was for the better she wasn't under her mom's authority anymore. Do you know anybody who is around the exact same size as you? Who? I guess my mom, but she's actually smaller than me now. She's lost a lot of weight and is still going at it. Ever been to a haunted house? How scared were you? Not a house, but rather hay rides and those places you just walk through and experience different stuff. They don't scare me at all; I love 'em. Been on any websites today you wouldn’t want your parents to see? No. Which is worse: dusting or mopping? Ugh, mopping. I don't mind dusting. Would you marry somebody who was intensely religious? No. Did you pull a senior prank? No. That shit is so dumb. Did you graduate? High school, yes. Have you ever been unfaithful in a serious relationship? No, and I never would. What was the last song you listened to? I'm listening to Lauren Babic and Halocene's cover of "Bleed It Out" by Linkin Park right now. It's great. Are you one of those lucky people with 20/20 vision? Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeell no. Is fashion one of your interests? No. Do you think you’ll eventually find that special someone? Hell if I know. Do you care what people think? Way, way more than I should. Is acting something you enjoy? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. I feel so stupid. What was the last thing you broke/sprained? I tore a ligament badly in my foot maybe a year and a half ago. I was SO sure it was broken. My mom had to help me walk everywhere, and even when she did, I'd be whimpering and seething. Have you ever fought with a friend because of their boyfriend/girlfriend? Because of yours? No. Has a stranger ever yelled at you for your language? No. Whose house, other than yours and your families', are you most comfortable at? If we're excluding all family, I suppose Sara's? Has any of your friends’ family ever yelled at you? Probably at some point as a kid. Did you ever play a sport as a little kid? Did you enjoy it? I played a lot. The only two I really didn't like were soccer and cheerleading. Did you ever watch the show Full House? Hell yeah, I loved it as a kid. Is there a celebrity you are just DETERMINED to marry? Ha ha y'all know I joke about it, but no, not legitimately. It's not like I know him personally at all, and I'm not chasing him to California either. Just let me dream still lmao. Have you ever burned someone’s picture? No, but I've actually heard it's truly therapeutic and not just for dramatic effect, so I wouldn't be opposed to doing so if you handed me a picture of him and a lighter. What’s the longest hike you’ve ever been on? I've never hiked before. Would you ever get a lip tattoo? Uh, no. Who is the first person of the opposite sex that pops into your head? Jason. Do your parents smoke cigarettes? My dad smokes like a chimney and is 100% going to end up with cancer because of it. You should hear his cough. Mom smoked for a very, very brief period before I was born. What does one of your T-shirts have written on it? "Equal in our bones" is on my favorite shirt. Name a pet you definitely wouldn’t want. Certain inverts people are wild enough to get, like giant African centipedes in particular. Would you prefer your partner smaller or taller? Can't say I care. do you enjoy going through old pictures? Sometimes. Other times, it's too painful. It also depends on the era of the pictures. Do you believe people when they say they don’t judge people? Ha, no. We all have natural first impressions and things like that that just... happen. What did you love the most about the town you grew up in? Nothing, really... besides just childhood memories that inevitably came. My hometown was dangerous. What’s a movie that you laughed the hardest during? I'm not sure. What’s a movie you cried the hardest during? I want to say Old Yeller, but I'm not sure. What’s your favorite restaurant? Olive Garden and The Cheesecake Factory. Is there a dessert you don’t like? Yeah; I don't like pie, strawberry shortcake, and I know there're others. Favorite album? Ozzy's Black Rain. It was my introduction to metal, so there's nostalgic value there, but I also just LOVE every single song. What’s a book that you read because everyone else was reading it? None. I don't read books for that reason. Underwater or outer space? Both kinda frighten me to a degree, but I find outer space to be way cooler. So many colorrrrrrs. Dogs or cats? Cats. Kittens or puppies? Ugh, both are so cute, but I gotta hand it to kittens. Bird watching or whale watching? Whale watching would blow me away. Whales are such magnificent, awe-inspiring animals. What is your spirit animal? Probably a deer. Skittish, shy, and quiet. What was your best subject in school? English. What was your worst subject in school? Math. What is one thing you wish you knew in high school? You and Jason aren't going to last, hunty. Who is your fashion icon? I don't have one. I wear what I want/what's comfortable. Diamonds or pearls? I think diamonds are a lot prettier. What color dress did you wear to prom? First one was maroon, last one was black. What’s your favorite plot-twist? Silent Hill: Shattered Memories. My jaw actually dropped. Honestly, are you jealous of someone right now? Yes. Honestly, what’s the worst thing you’ve done when you were mad? Said things I shouldn't. Honestly, ever made anyone cry when you were mad? Yes. Honestly, when was the last time you REALLY cried your heart out? Two weeks ago or something like that. Ever pop someone else’s pimple? OH MY GOD NO alskdfa;wekrwer; Do you need to return anyone’s phone call? No. Who are you closest to? My mom. Have you ever had a bad concert experience? No. Are you currently sad about anything? A number of things. Have you had any form of exercise today? No, but tomorrow is day #2 at the gym! Can you handle blood? Yeah, np. Has any place hired you underage for a job? No. Have you ever carried a concealed weapon? No sir=ee. Are you currently searching for a job? Not anymore, at least not actively. I was going to after TMS, but I'm just... still not ready. Right now, I'm focusing on the gym and getting healthy again, but if the seemingly perfect job comes along, I'm not opposed to taking it up. Does eating breakfast make you sick? No, I've got to have breakfast or else THEN I feel awful.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''thoughts & prayers" by motionless in white

[nicknellie]

Honestly the fact that March is in two months is actually horrific. Also that’s a mood, my sleep schedule has been weird due to Covid as well. (and technically good night to you when I get this down in like the next hour)

Box stuff

1. Exactly, Alex tells Luke how exactly to get back on good terms with his parents and at the same time tells him how dumb he was but lovingly and of course since it’s Alex Luke immediately listens.

I love that, also he was close to his teachers. Like he would be the one to tell them if Luke (for example) had a bad night and to let him skip the class and the teacher would begrudgingly agree just because they know that Alex is true to his word and will make sure that he’s caught up on everything. Honestly I don’t really feel like Alex is a teachers pet as well but he did get along with his teachers.

Actual points (that did make sense)

Oh my goodness yes, Emily will deliberately try to remember embarrassing Luke stories just so Alex can bring it up.

‘Bold words for someone who cried when they didn’t get to go on the tea cups’

Precisely, they gave the chance for Luke to make up with Emily if he wished because they didn’t really have anything to say to their parents. Agreed, and that’s some thing I hope season two expands on because they had to have friends outside of the band even if they were closer with the band than anyone else they definitely had some acquaintances. Imagine people making tributes 🥺 (honestly I feel like they were all kind of done with school and that Bobby if he didn’t quit like the other boys then he probably did not return). But I love that idea. I feel like Alex had a little sister as well, and that’s a really good theory I feel like it would make sense that Mitch and Emily were a bit more overprotective about the band and everything if they had a miscarriage. Because they want Luke to do so well that to them committing himself to a band that might not take off wasn’t the path to go and they were worried. Agreed, honestly if anything sometimes I just think to myself that the three of them are only children however I feel like it would also work if they had a younger or older sibling (Alex having a younger one and Reggie having an older one).

That’s relatable I’ve had quite a few songs I’ve only listened tofor a bit and then immediately fall in love with them. I hadn’t heard the song before but I checked it out and I agree. If you like it is some thing that Rose wrote towards them just to remind them not to give up. Because, while wake up was personal to Julie and to remind her to keep doing music this song would kind of be Roses way to say all the words she never got to say but not like in an Unsaid Emily way. (Exactly how you said it lol)

I feel like they had a piano as well, so one day Julie does play it for them and it’s so sad.

3. Oh my goodness, Willie setting the kitchen on fire and then Alex trying to help him is everything. And yes he does need to be banned from the kitchen, is the type who would burn water. Yes, every single time Luke and Reggie try to receive the book for Alex just so that he has something to look at but he’s just like ‘nope I don’t need it anymore’

Board games and jam (that is honestly just monopoly and among us at this point)

1. I’m glad this made you laugh because I find it hilarious as well. And that’s exactly what happens because Alex waits for Reggie to be completely unprepared and just like Luke he sends a drumstick at him.

Honestly I’m the one who wrote the sentence and at first I interpreted that way as well. Just like Alex has thrown drumsticks of the band so many times that he has perfected his skills is so true.

He does and Willie is just crying laughing in the corner because Alex is throwing drumsticks at Caleb. I love how Alex just doesn’t stop and Caleb eventually it’s just like okay I guess I will continue on with my evil speech. But he continues to get hit with drumsticks, although he doesn’t understand how.

Among us

I love that so much. That is exactly what happens and bonus points if Alex looks Willie straight in the eye when he kills him. And Alex isn’t even subtle about it he legitimately just follows Willie and kills him immediately.

That is so cruel but hilarious. Building off of that idea a little bit the first time someone finds Luke’s body is Alex and he runs away. After that round Luke is so hurt but Alex is like we’re all just going to be suspicious of each other and there’s no point.

How Flynn has the rules memorized no one understands but she will legitimately say ‘in section B point 2 it says blah blah blah’ and she is always correct.

I love the example you chose was someone, probably Willie, moving three squares instead of two and Flynn just loses it. (bonus points if just like Alex she will throw something at you but it’s usually the rule book and or her piece)

I do have to agree with you but at the same time Alex being friends with Flynn and the two of them plus Julie making friendship bracelets is adorable to me. But with your point, legitimately they are always in agreement together. One time Alex even lies about the rules and just because Flynn is done with Luke, she will agree with him.

I do have to agree with you, I may not start arguments but I am definitely the type to be like ok this is your turn and you have to go twice ect. And as we should

Alex never has any pity for Reggie struggles, legitimately Reggie will not understand how Uno is played and Alex will just be like ‘oh sad, now draw 4’ (I have no clue why I chose Uno but that’s the route I’m going down)

Numbers

2. That was exactly my intent. And yes, Alex does say that.

6. Honestly Willie trying to have a discussion with Alex and then Alex just panicking while the guys are laughing in the corner is everything.

Actually I haven’t seen Miranda before but I will have to check it out and the American version because anything that has Cheyenne Jackson in it needs to be seen at some point. I don’t know why but that just gives me total Alex energy like Willie just offhandedly asked him about some thing and Alex is immediately agrees although in real life the statement is very false. (Honestly I feel like we’ve already talked about three AU here but you definitely should)

8. Luke- yes he is very selfless which upsets Alex who usually is the one who reminds him to proceed with his day and do things. Also agreed, the band means so much to him that he couldn’t be cocky even is he tried (unless it’s about the others talents)

Reggie- I love his solo in stand tall as well, I don’t think you’ve mentioned that before but that lyric is really good from now or never. (Honestly part of the reason why I love those song so much because both Alex and Reggie have solos in them)

I haven’t listened much to his new EP either but I’ve listened to Uh oh and ballerina (really good)

Alex- exactly, honestly I feel like that scene was kind of uncharacteristic on Luke’s part. Because throughout the show we see him being supportive of Alex and trying to get Alex to appreciate his talent more (after now or never basically him being like Alex you killed it come on) so him basically saying that they don’t need drumming anymore is a bit weird.

Precisely, whenever anything goes wrong they usually turn to Alex because although it may not go the best way he’s always the best person to handle it

Bobby- same here, it’s easier to talk about a character if you know how exactly they are/how they react to things

Umm this is painful. Thinking about Luke being left behind hurts, also your right. Honestly I feel like if any of them and Luke especially lost each other then they would probably lose music because the greatest attachment they have to music is each other. (Which for Luke is a big thing) oh my goodness thinking about him going to the studio and just crying because he’s thinking about the boys is everything. Also thinking about Luke unconsciously going home and just seeing the boys in simple stuff that his parents are doing is heart crushing. Aw just Luke and Emily going to hug each other is adorable, honestly it would be amazing to see him talk about the fact that he lost the boys and then slowly she becomes supportive of his music and, despite what I said earlier, eventually he releases a tribute to them.

17. Yes exactly, bonus points if the wave that Caleb does is the one that he did after Alex says ‘Willie and I. I mean I wouldn’t call it magic’

‘Do what you gotta do’ and nothing to lose are some of the best technically villain songs and Cheyenne Jackson does such a good job at them that honestly seeing his character turn good would be sad. (But that would also mean more songs in general possibly and not losing the character so it’s hard to decide)

19. Exactly, they all just end up attacking each other with snowballs that it’s hard to keep alliances. Also yes, Willie has a really keen eye for perfect moments to throw snowballs.

Agreed, it will be exciting to see them grow as actors and also how they grow in general because as you spend more time with castmates you get closer to them and that chemistry is more evident on screen which will also help out. It’s interesting because the show has kind of like a perfect balance of actors who are in stuff before so they have previous acting experience and actors who haven’t really. So seeing them get more recognition especially for the ones who have been in stuff before but aren’t really recognize/popular because of that is amazing. (also the fact that quite a few of them have picked up learning a new instrument and or in general can play quite a few instruments so I hope that they will experiment with that during the second season)

Agreed, just wouldn’t want the show to have too many villains to the point where it gets overwhelming and just repetitive. Honestly Willie turning the ghost club into a skate park just out of spite for Caleb would be amazing.

I have no clue why but the ‘you’d better run’ made me think of that ‘why are you running’ vine and now I can see Carlos saying that just to be funny.

21. Oh yea Willie almost got arrested while he was alive. Honestly if anything I think that he was running from the cops before he died so he was almost going to get arrested for sure.

Exactly, bonus points if it’s Alex who actually did the graffiti just because he knew that Reggie was upset and although he teases Reggie so much, he will be the first one to say something if anyone ever hurt him.

25. Exactly, also love the ‘she’s going to kill me again’ like Caleb is scary but if you hurt Alex then Carrie is most definitely scarier. That’s how the talk goes, word from word. And yes although Carrie is more so all bite no bark, the boys would’ve definitely killed willie if he hurt Alex. They would find a way, it’s definitely possible. I feel like while all of them would know that Willie wouldn’t actually hurt Alex. They say that just in case because they love Alex and if there’s a slight chance that someone could hurt him then they want to make sure that the person knows repercussions will happen.

They are perfect for each other lol

32. Exactly, and Alex just brushing off the dirt of Reggie‘s jacket and being the mom friend is very in character. Also the handing over the cookies, and Bobby goes with him just to make sure that Reggie doesn’t get lost again. (Luke was probably with Reggie when he got lost and or is the one who wandered off and lost Reggie while doing so)

37. He can do the impossible though I feel like that’s definitely canon. It does makes sense, if anyone can be trusted to do something that is hypothetically impossible it’s definitely Reggie. It will definitely be done in the weirdest way but Reggie will always pull through.

Oh my goodness ‘the timeout corner’ I love that. They are preschoolers thought especially with lighters. Yes, that is the only time Alex did not realize that Reggie had a lighter and of course it was the time that Reggie set Luke on fire. (Love the fact that you said he was panicking because he knows that he will be put in a time out)

I want a Reggie and Julie duet as well, it would be so amazing. And yes that is the title. They have another one that’s pure country because Luke won’t let Reggie have a country song.

Omg I’m so sorry, I’m really dumb and I thought I had posted this forever ago but turns out I just had it saved to my drafts! Aksbdkdk sorry lmao

March is in two months??? That doesn’t sound right. March was like a week ago. I hate this.

Good *insert time of day here* for whenever you read this!!

Box stuff:

1. Yeah exactly! And like what if it’s not just that it’s Alex so he listens, but it’s Alex so it makes sense? As in, if anyone else was telling him he’d wouldn’t get where they were coming from but because Alex takes the time to really explain what’s going on Luke actually gets it (even if he doesn’t want to get it, but Alex can tell when he’s just being difficult and petty)

Omggg I love that! Like he’d arrive to class early to tell them to make sure nobody else heard. And it gives a whole new meaning to his line “I’m pretty sure that was just a you thing. I was always pretty trustworthy ☺️” because like if any of the other boys (especially Reggie) tried it then they wouldn’t have got anywhere at all but just everyone trusts Alex

Actual points:

Agskdlsld I love that also “bold words for someone who once got his head stuck in a lampshade” “SHE TOLD YOU THAT?!?!”

Oooooh I never thought about them dropping out of school but that would make a lot of sense (especially for Luke dropping out because of all people he wouldn’t have seen any need to stay). And exactlyyy they would have had to have other friends and they must’ve been upset by their friends dying so like??? And the idea of people making tributes hurts my heart - like, putting flowers or whatever outside their old lockers at the school, no matter if they were still in school or not, just as their way of saying goodbye, or making sure nobody sat where they used to sit in class. And having a whole-school assembly where they played Sunset Curve’s demo and talked about how inspirational the boys were and I’ve gotta stop or I’ll cry. And yesss because if Luke was their one shot at having a child, something they had dreamed of for years, they’d want him to succeed and they were so blinded by it that they wanted him to succeed in their way, not his which could fail. And yeah, I also usually think they’re only children but for the purposes of fics or adding some more depth to their characters then I like to think about siblings and how that would have changed them as people. But the show never mentions them ever so I mainly stick to canon that they don’t too

Yessss exactly 🥺 it’s her way of telling them that they don’t need to worry or be sad and I love it so much!

3. Lmao Willie just being a kitchen disaster is brilliant - he actually did burn water once (on purpose just to see if he could actually do it) but then every time he tried to cook after that and use water he burnt it on accident and he has no idea how he’s doing it bc it’s impossible and after the fifth time and the fire Alex is like “ok willie just go”

Lol it kinda turns into some sort of game once Luke and Reggie realise Alex is dead set on not having that recipe book. He throws it away and one of them sneaks it into his pocket somehow. So he throws it away again and next time he opens the fridge one of them has put it in there. They just spend hours moving around the book solely to piss Alex off

Board games and jam (lmfao yeah there’s no jam left, it’s one board game, and a random online game):

1. Alex now just uses it as any excuse, like Luke will ask him to make room for him on the couch or whatever and Alex will scowl at him and say “if you make me move I swear to god I will pelt your face with drumsticks” and Luke just backs away slowly and sits somewhere else

Absbdksl with the Caleb bit, it’s like Alex has been secretly practising magic tricks or sleight of hand or whatever, so he’s got these hundreds of drumsticks hidden all over his body and no one can see where he’s getting them from apart from when he literally pulls them out his sleeve. Caleb - the actual magician ffs - spends hours later trying to work out how he did it but can’t. Willie finding it hilarious is everything omg just stood in the corner like “you go babe! Mildly inconvenience that soul-stealing jazz singer ghost!”

Among Us:

LMFAO YES and he does it in front of everyone too, reports the body himself, admits to it on chat, but nobody votes him out because Willie had it coming

I love that sm, Luke looking at Alex like “dude I’m right there” but Alex just completely ignoring him. The anger and hurt just fuels Luke’s weird ability to be able to sense whenever Alex is imposter

Yes definitely! Flynn gives the page number and everything, and Julie watches so smug and proud as he best friend rattled off these rules and Reggie is like “that can’t be right” so Alex checks and everyone is just that little bit more scared of Flynn because god that was weirdly cool

Ajakdlsnd YES she does or if she’s sat beside the person who did it she just repeatedly hits them over the head with the rule book like “MOVE. YOUR. PIECE. BACK. ONE. SPACE.”

Oooohhh I love the friendship bracelet idea that’s so cute! Also, I know I said they wouldn’t be that close, but the idea of Flynn going to Alex before anyone else when she realises she has a crush on Carrie (because she knows he’s gay and also hopefully friends with Carrie at this point and he might be able to be helpful) is literally such a cute idea to me. And the one time they’re not in agreement with the rules is obviously when it comes to Willie - Flynn accuses Willie of cheating somehow and Alex readies his drumsticks to throw at her like “what did you just say about my boyfriend?”

I do that too! But tbh most arguments are because I get competitive and demand we play the game by my utterly made up rules which are very biased towards me. I’m half the reason most card games are banned in my house... 😂

Oh lol I love that Alex just takes advantage of Reggie’s complete lack of uno knowledge. Reggie will pick up a useful card like the one where you change the colour or whatever, and he asks what it means, so Alex is like “oh that means you have to pick up four of every colour”

Numbers:

6. Exactly, so right. And like I feel like that’s definitely the sort of thing we could see in season 2 - like Alex and Willie having a conversation and Alex feels normal and fine but then Reggie and Luke and Julie come in and suddenly everything that comes out of his mouth sounds romantic and sappy and they’re all laughing at him and it wasn’t this hard before they came in!

You should definitely watch Miranda! I can’t remember if it’s still on Netflix, but highly recommend! Exactly, any opportunity to see Cheyenne Jackson act should be taken at once. And yes, it has total Alex energy, Willie could say anything and Alex is just like yes absolutely. (And tbh that’s mainly the plot of Miranda as well so if I did write this hypothetical AU there would be plenty of opportunity for it lmaooo)

8. Luke - yes wait I love all this so much. Like as a totally random example if Luke tries to surprise them all by cooking lunch or dinner or whatever one day (even though he’s a terrible cook and it should always be left to Alex) he just forgets to make any food for himself and Alex has to gently remind him that Luke you need to eat too remember? And Luke being cocky about the others’ talents??? God Tier Thought, I love it so so so much. Like someone will tell him he was really good on stage that night and he’ll brush it off with “yeah, but did you hear Alex’s drum solo? Totally improv, the guy has mad skills. And Reggie’s backing vocals and harmonies - his range is literally unbelievable, better than most people to be honest. Oh and Bobby? Well damn, did you hear his solo? He’s up there with the best, learnt that whole thing in under ten minutes”

Reggie - same tbh 😂 like I love Luke and Julie’s vocals to the moon and back, but it always feels kinda special whenever Alex and Reggie sing y’know bc we hardly ever hear them apart from backing

Yeah I listened to Uh Oh and a few others too, I think Stranger was my favourite (if that’s even what it’s called, I think it is) but I haven’t heard the whole thing yet. Ballerina is my jam omfg I love it and I love he wrote the whole thing for and about Carolynn like that’s so sweet 🥺

Alex - yeah I thought that too! I think I saw a post ages and ages ago that was talking about how it would have made more sense if Luke was worried about being left behind or had some abandonment issues (worries from his days arguing with his parents) so at the first sign that Alex wants to “leave him” (in his mind) and cross over or join Willie he gets defensive and tries to shut Alex out with that line before Alex can leave him. I might not have explained that as well as the post did but I think it’s the general gist?

I think you’re right, I can totally see any of them losing sight of music to begin with. I think for Reggie he would sort of shrink in on himself and just not feel up to doing anything at all, he would really struggle mental health-wise. Then for Alex I think he’d launch himself into boring menial tasks to get his mind off it, maybe go off the rails a little because what does it matter anymore? Then exactly as you said for Luke, bc it’s so important to him he just can’t face it. And obviously we’ve talking about Bobby like a million posts ago and still now 😂 but eventually all of them would take up music again and write a tribute for each other.

This is only a little bit off topic bc we just mentioned Emily and Luke but yeah so if Emily and Mitch saw Julie and the Phantoms perform what would they do??? Bc I can’t imagine it, and I don’t think they’d believe in ghosts, but if they did like would they be happy? Or angry that Julie didn’t tell them? Or sad because they can only see their son if he’s playing and that’s the very thing they encouraged him never to do? Idk idk idk but I just want them to find out about the band in season 2!!!

17. Bonus points definitely awarded, I love that sm lmao

And yeah like Cheyenne Jackson just does villain songs so well??? Like, Caleb is my best friend’s favourite character and I asked her why she loves him so much and to answer she just got Spotify up and started playing Nothing to Lose and I was like ok fair enough. Exactly, like I want him to turn good but the villain songs might be something I can’t lose. But then just general Caleb songs ugh idk I’d love that too

Wait wait wait I had a thought - someone’s probably said it before but Caleb and Willie duet????? Please?!?!

19. Lmao by the end alliances just don’t exist at all anymore

Yes all of this!!! It really is perfect because as you said their friendships will develop and that’ll translate into screen so beautifully and I honestly can’t wait. And of course as you said the balance between upcoming actors and those who have been in stuff before is great, they’ll be able to give each other tips and pointers and learn from each other and eventually start reaching the same levels of fame or whatever and that’ll just be so cool! And yes it’s so cool to see them start getting recognition - like Madison hitting one million followers on Instagram the other day, I’m literally so proud of her and so glad she’s getting what she deserves!! Agreed, it’s great that they all play their own instruments and sing their own stuff rather than having others do that for them - I really want to see more of Sacha playing his guitar as Nick bc he’s so good, but also he’s being possessed by Caleb and I want Caleb to just be terrible at guitar so that’s how they first know somethings off bc Nick suddenly can’t play 😂😂

Ajsndlslf Carlos would totally do that. Carlos would be the one to introduce the guys to Vine and it would haunt Julie’s existence for all eternity because now Alex won’t play anything until Julie has said “bring the beat in” for him to reply “anything for you Beyoncé!” And Reggie would keep saying “I wanna be a cowboy, baby” and it gets on her nerves, and Luke takes to strumming his guitar and going “I love you bitch I ain’t never gonna stop loving you bitch” and yeah lmao

21. Wait yeah lmao that’s the only reason he didn’t get arrested because he freaking died instead, chaotic king

Oh it was DEFINITELY Alex who did the graffiti, it’s his way of being overprotective and cheering Reggie up

25. Lmao I love that - Caleb is scary but oh shit better watch out for Carrie Wilson. The guys would definitely find a way to kill Willie again - they’d go to extremes like figuring out how to do the stamp so he stops existing (or maybe they would just talk about doing that but not actually do it because that feels way too mean and if Willie hurt Alex (not that he would) then they could just keep them out of each other’s way). Yeah exactly, they just want to make sure they’ve got everything covered to try and protect Alex as they would do for anyone in their group - and Alex insists he doesn’t need their protection because it’s just Willie, but really he’s extremely grateful for it

32. YES I love all that like Alex is about to send Reggie on his way but is just like “hang on, take Bobby with you, I don’t want you getting lost or eating all the cookies before you get there” And Luke having got lost with Reggie is everything - both of them were looking at a cool bird or something and didn’t realise Alex and Bobby had kept walking, so Luke tried to lead Reggie in the right direction but got them lost, and then said to Reggie “stay here I’ll get help” and left him and didn’t come back because he couldn’t find him again

37. Oh 100%. Reggie can do impossible things but they’re just in ways that also seem like they should be impossible. I wish I could think of examples, but I don’t know how to do impossible things so 😂🤷🏻‍♀️

Adjoskflfmj yeah he’s not panicking because Luke’s on fire, he’s panicking because he doesn’t want to miss snack time while he’s in the timeout corner (having a scheduled snack time was Bobby’s idea because Luke said he wasn’t allowed to eat during rehearsal because he needed to focus)

Honestly Julie letting Reggie have any country song he wants just because Luke won’t let him is everything I need and more

#ugh im so sorry im an idiot for saving this to my drafts instead of posting it :((( #its lucky I realised before it had been like a week lmao #williexmercer #asks #emily answers

[mnthpprt]

Chapter 38: Nocturnal

[Am I procrastinating by writing yet another chapter? Yes I am. Pls send help.]

I wake up only a couple hours later to find Arthur is gone. He must have gone back to write in is room. I don something comfortable and pick up my blood soaked clothes from the bathroom floor to wash them. Though Sebastian knows what I did, I don’t want to wake him up in the middle of the night for this. He has done enough already, and I can deal with the stains myself.

I fetch a bucket and a jar of salt from the kitchen and bring it back to my bedroom before filling it with cold water. I then proceed to scrub as much as I can off the clothes inside the shower, using a thick salt paste, and when the water stops running red, I lather them in soap and leave them to soak in the bucket. The stains are fairly fresh, so hopefully they will come out in a day or two.

After drying myself off, I leave to aimlessly roam around the mansion. I need to do something, anything, to keep my mind occupied. I eventually end up in the attic, crawling onto the roof through the dormer window. I am pleased to find Jean is there. I don’t think I could handle being alone with my thoughts.

“Mind if I join you?” I ask, knocking on the window frame. Jean turns to glance at me before shuffling over, making space for me beside him on the edge. “This is becoming a habit, huh?”

“It’s not one I’m opposed to,” he shrugs. I light a cigarillo, and he looks at it disapprovingly. “Unlike that one.”

“Sorry.” Before I can smother the flame on the roof tiles, he holds my hand to stop me.

“I was joking...” he mutters. “I don’t mind if you smoke.”

I... did not think Jean had a sense of humor. His is a lot like Mozart’s, I think, in the sense that it’s hard to tell when they’re kidding. I chuckle and look up at the sky. The sun is still nowhere near the horizon. It must be around 3 in the morning.

After exhaling a cloud of smoke, I glance at Jean to notice him staring at my arm. My sleeves are still rolled up from the laundry, and most of my tattoos are fully exposed.

“Is that some sort of plant?” he shyly asks. I nod.

“A monstera adansonii. I used to work in a flower shop, and this is my favorite plant that we sold,” I explain. Though it is commonly referred to as ‘Swiss cheese plant’, the holes on its leaves have always reminded me of the craters on the moon.

“I own a shop too,” he quietly informs me, catching me by surprise. “I sell weapons.”

“Sounds about right,” I chuckle. His fascination with the objects is evident in his bedroom. “Do you make them yourself?”

“Only some of them. I mostly just make slight alterations.”

“Must be a lot of work, if you also own the place,” I ponder out loud. “No wonder I rarely see you during the day, you must be so busy.”

“Napoleon helps me with the paperwork. I wouldn’t be able to manage without him.” I tilt my head, wondering what he means by that. “I, uh... I can’t read or write,” he explains.

“Oh.” It makes sense, given the time that he lived in. Most people back then were illiterate. I open my mouth when a thought occurs to me, but quickly close it and sink down against the chimney, resigned.

“What is it?”

“I was going to offer to teach you, but I’m not much better off myself,” I chuckle. “I could not spell in French if my life depended on it. I can kind of read it, though. That, I might be able to help you with.”

“... Thank you,” he murmurs after a brief pause, before turning to look at me with his good eye. “I am glad that you are staying here, Anaïs.”

“Yeah, about that...” I mutter. “I think I understand how you felt that night. These baby vampire impulses are... a bit too much to handle. It’s rough.”

Jean nods slowly and looks away from me, as if thinking about something. When he finally speaks again, his voice is even softer than usual.

“You slipped, didn’t you?” His unexpected question makes me tense beside him. I guess he feels it, because he continues. “I was up here when you came back. I saw you.”

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” I sigh. “It was bad. I mean, it was self defence, but that doesn’t make it any less awful...”

“It does,” he declares. “Do you think that person would have died if they hadn’t attacked you?”

“Not really, but-”

“Then they deserved it and their blood is not on your hands,” he cuts me off. “Not literally, at least.”

I hadn’t thought of it that way. The logic in his argument is not exactly airtight, but it’s better than blaming myself for what I did. I helped Jean hate himself a little less, it’s time to let him do the same for me. Satisfied with my new mindset, I bring the cigarillo to my lips and inhale a deep puff.

“... People,” I finally correct him after I blow out the smoke. He looks at me, confusion in his ocean blue eye. “There were two people.”

“And you took them down on your own?” he inquires. I shrug. It’s not exactly something I’m proud of. “Impressive. I didn’t think a frail little woman like you could defeat one, even as a vampire.”

“Hey, I’m stronger than I look,” I laugh. I am still not sure whether he was teasing me or not, but I chose to take it that way. He looks at me before shaking his head.

“Nah, I don’t believe that.” Yeah, he is definitely messing with me this time.

“I am, I swear!” I play along, gently smacking his muscular arm. “Wanna take this to the training room?”

Instead of replying, he gets up and offers me his hand. I take it, letting him effortlessly pull me to my feet, and follow him back inside.

“You know,” I say on the way there, “I’ve been wanting to learn how to fight properly for a while. Ever since I saw you and Napoleon on my first day here.”

“How about I teach you that, and you teach me how to read?” he suggests. I smile.

“I’ll do my best.”

When we enter the training room, Jean turns the switch on the wall, making the lights turn on with a flicker. I wonder how he feels about all this new technology, so unfamiliar to him. He seems to have gotten somewhat used to electricity and running water, at least. Although I’m pretty sure his brain would implode if he saw the things that are common in my time.

He exchanges his rapier for a wooden version of it he takes from the rack in the corner, and hands me another one, identical to his. It’s heavier than I expected. I hold it between my thighs to tie my hair up as Jean expertly waves his sword around with a flourish, getting accustomed to the different handle in his hand. What did I just get myself into? Whatever it is, it’s going to be fun.

“En garde!” He takes a stance, and I try to mimic it, but my thin right arm is unused to the weight of the weapon, so my left hand instinctually joins to support it. “No, use only one hand,” he instructs. “Like this.”

I am surprised to see I can easily hold it up once I get past the mental barrier of what my human body was capable of. I am stronger and more resilient than I have ever been, though I think I’ll need some time to get used to that.

“Alright, I’m going to attack now. Try to block it,” he warns be before lunging forward and thrusting his sword towards my stomach. The movement is deliberately slow to give me time to deflect it, which I successfully do. 

He slashes at me again, stepping closer. I push his sword to the side with my own, but it comes back in full force. I barely manage to block it this time, reeling backwards.

“Focus,” he orders me. “There is more than one way to avoid being hit.”

I nod, taking the hint. When he attacks again, I am quick to dodge his sword, focusing on agility rather than strength. While I struggled significantly to parry Jean’s hits, I can effortlessly jump and twist out of the way without ever having to lift my own sword. His movements accelerate, and I follow along, resulting in a graceful dance between us. It reminds me of waltz with Mozart, how he had spun me around the ballroom until my vision blurred and I struggled to keep up with his quick footwork.

“Ow!” I cry out in pain when Jean’s sword hits my hand, right on my knuckles.

“Désolé! (Sorry)” he apologizes, lowering his weapon. “Not bad, Anaïs. How come you’re so fast? You’ve never trained before.”

I simply point at my skates across the room, the red suede boots having become part of the training room’s vast collection of equipment over time. I started leaving them here, on the floor near a corner, when I realized I could never use them outside of the mansion.

“When you’re falling from a triple spin in the air, you gotta be quick or you end up breaking your leg, or something,” I chuckle. Jean nods, his eyebrows raised, as if he just considered that possibility for the first time. He probably did, but to be fair, he has been watching me skate for a month now. He should know better.

I slowly flex my fingers over the sword’s handle, but wince in pain when I try to move my pinky. It’s too sore for me to continue training.

“Are you hurt?” Jean asks, concerned. I shake my head.

“I’ll be fine, it’s just my pinky,” I brush it off. “It will be healed in a day or so.”

“We should continue another day, then.”

I want to argue, but he’s right. I can barely hold the sword straight. My pinky might have taken the brunt of it, but the dull ache expands through my entire hand.

“Okay, but I’m gonna skate instead, if you don’t mind,” I finally give in, walking to ‘my’ corner of the room, before kicking my shoes off. “I have way too much energy. I fear I’ll end up eating someone again if I don’t get rid of it somehow.”

As I struggle to tie my laces with a semi-numb hand, I remember something. I look up at Jean and stare at him for a few seconds before voicing my thoughts.

“Do you know any songs?”

“Yes, why?” he asks, confused.

“My headphones are dead.”

“Headphones?” He sits on the floor beside me and tilts his head.

“Yeah, you know those little things I wear in my ears sometimes?” I remind him. “They play music. And, well, it’s kinda weird for me to skate without music, so I was wondering if you could sing something...”

“Did I accidentally hit your head?”

I snort at his genuine question. Of course, he seems even more confused by my explanation. It is then that I remember my phone still works. I turned it off after my first night here to preserve the battery. It must be in my room somewhere, along with my wireless earplugs.

“Wait here,” I tell him, quickly pulling off my skates. “I’m just gonna show you. I’ll be right back.”

That said, I jump up and run barefoot out of the training room. I have no idea how I’m gonna explain this to Jean without him thinking it’s witchcraft, but it might be better if I just let him see it for himself.

#ikemen vampire #ikevam #ikevamp #ikemen #ikemen fanfiction #ikemen vampire fanfiction #ikevam fanfic #ikevamp fanfiction #ikemen vampire jean #ikevamp jean

[not-close-to-straight]

I Wanna Hold Your Hand (Stony)

For @ceealaina because she is hilariously awkward with her local barista and I laughed hard enough at her story that she deserves a ridiculous fic. 

Based on THE CLASSIC song by the Beatles only because it’s fun to listen to, and ft. Barista!Steve and Over Tired!Tony because that’s our favorite version of him, right?

PLAYLIST MASTERLIST HERE

******************

“Hey, good morning Tony.” Big blond and blindingly cheerful smiled at Tony from behind the coffee counter. “Your usual today?” 

“Mmmphalways.” Tony mumbled, and when the barista’s smile only stretched wider, he sighed and tried again, “Yes, thank you. Sorry, I’m uh-- I’m a little out of it this morning.” 

“Yeah, I thought your hair looked a little fluffier than usual.” the barista joked and when Tony only blinked at him, the blond clarified, “We can pretty much tell whether it’s finals week or mid terms or if there’s a project due by the height of your hair.” 

“You judge my stress by my hair?” Tony said in disbelief, and put a hand to his hair to try and assess the volume. “Are you serious?” 

“Very serious.” Valkyrie leaned across the counter to get a closer look at Tony’s hair, her own curls piled high atop her head in a messy bun, dark eyes sparkling with laughter. “What is that, three inches today? You must have a project due.” 

“I hate you.” Tony informed her, and Valkyrie chucked a few coffee beans at him for good measure and started to make his drink. “I do have a project due, last big one of the semester. Gotta crank it out, then sleep for a month.” 

“Aw, don’t sleep for that long.” Blond barista was talking to Tony again, and he dragged his gaze away from where Valkyrie was pouring espresso shots to pay attention. 

“Sorry, what?” 

“Don’t sleep for that long.” Blondie repeated, and was he-- was he winking at Tony? Was he flirting? People didn’t flirt at seven in the morning, what in the fuck-- “You’re my usual Tuesday, Thursday Friday, it would screw my whole schedule up if you stayed away for a month.” 

“...oh.” Tony tried to wrangle his face into something less confused. “...yep...I guess I’d hate to do that to the-- to the schedule.” 

The barista grinned and held at his hand and Tony was running on all of forty five minutes of sleep, entirely too much stress, and not enough coffee yet so he just-- he just took the guys hand. 

Blondie had been flirting whether Tony was awake enough to appreciate it, and damn the guy really was hot and even though Tony couldn’t remember the barista’s name to save his life, if the guy wanted to hold hands for a minute, he wasn’t going to argue. 

A little weird, sure. Who held hands over a counter? But Tony hadn’t looked up from text books long enough to date in like two years and hey maybe this was what the kids were doing these days. 

So yep. Tony just took the guys hand. Held the barista’s hand over the cash register because the day had already been weird, this might as well happen too. 

“So.” Tony raised his eyebrows and attempted to sound as if he had any idea how to flirt and was in fact in control of his mental faculties at-- my god, was it seven oh seven and he still hadn’t had coffee? “So uh-- this must mean we’re dating now, right?” 

He was joking, definitely joking, but Big and Blond’s sort of amazingly blue eyes went sort of shockingly wide before he stuttered, “I was just waiting for your card, Tony. You’re holding it in your other hand.” 

Oh, fuck my life. 

Tony snatched his hand back like it was burning and dimly, over the sound of his own screaming embarrassment, he heard Valkyrie about laughing herself sick over his mistake. 

“Hey, it’s fine.” Hot Barista was blushing clear to his ears and even though Tony wanted to fall into a hole and die, he had to admit the blush only made the blond even cuter. “You haven’t had coffee yet, can’t be held accountable for your actions, right?” 

“Yeah. Lets-- let’s definitely go with that route.” Tony dragged his hands down his face. “Also, I’ve been listening to the Beatles on repeat and I’ve been singing ‘I Wanna Hold Your Hand’ for like four hours. Sorry.” 

“No, it’s fine.” Blond handed over Tony’s coffee with a fairly suggestive smirk. “But if you uh, you ever wanna make good on the hand holding idea, I know a great spot for dinner just down the way. I’d love to take you sometime.” 

“Mmmph.” Tony was back to non verbal, inhaling the scent of his coffee and then tipping it back and draining a frightening amount of the scalding drink in one big gulp. “Mmmmm java java java. Valkyrie, I love you.” 

“I know you do.” Valkyrie laughed at him. “Good luck on your project today. Let us know how it goes.” 

Tony waved over his shoulder as he hurried from the shop, and as soon as the door closed behind him, Valkyrie whirled on Steve and smacked him in the shoulder. 

“Ow!” Steve scowled at her. “What the hell was that for?” 

“What the hell was that for?” Valkyrie mimicked. “Steve! You don’t ask coffee customers to dinner! Look at Tony! Do you think he even knows what dinner is? That man lives from coffee cup to class and back to coffee cups! The only reason he talks to me is because I’m the one who literally creates coffee for him! You don’t-ask-coffee people-to-dinner!” 

She punctuated each word with another punch at Steve’s arm. “If you’re ever going to get that guy’s attention, you need to get off the cash register and onto the espresso machine. Otherwise you can bat those stupid long eyelashes and fail at flirting all you want, and our favorite sleep deprived little genius is going to keep right on ignoring you. I bet he doesn’t even know your name.” 

“That’s rude.” Steve protested. “Tony knows my name, I’ve been taking his order three times a week for like six months now!” 

“Yeah....” Valkyrie shrugged uncaringly. “He doesn’t know your name, champ. The closest thing you’ll ever get to a date with Tony is him being caffeine deprived again and accidentally holding your hand for a minute. Which I mean--” she shrugged again. “--if that’s how you get your jollies...” 

“I DO NOT GET MY JOLLIES BY HOLDING HANDS WITH CUSTOMERS!” Steve shouted, and the woman who had been entering the coffee shop turned right the hell back around and nearly ran for her car. “Oh. Oops.” 

“Good job.” Valkyrie said flatly. “First you inappropriately hold hands with customers, now you’re yelling at them? You’re an awesome barista.” 

Steve just looked at her, and Valkyrie looked right back. “I’m just saying, Steve. You want a chance with Tony? Step your game up.”

“Alright.” Steve straightened his shoulders. “I’ll step my game up.” 

Valkyrie chuckled and went to make herself a cup of coffee. “I can’t wait to watch you make a fool of yourself. You are the worst at flirting. It’s practically painful.” 

“Rude.” 

“I think you mean honest.” 

“I’m pretty sure I don’t.” 

****************

Tuesday morning Tony stumbled through the door and up to the counter moaning, “Valkyrie...” 

“I’m on it, love.” Valkyrie assured him. “When do you hear if you passed your final?” 

“End of the month.” Tony poked listlessly through the granola bars. “Longest three weeks of my life but you know, I’ve got finals in every class so at least I’ll be too busy to stress right?” 

“I’m pretty sure all you do is stress love.” Valkyrie called over the noise of the espresso machine. “But three weeks will fly by, don’t worry. Then you can sleep. You definitely need to sleep.” 

“Is that your way of telling me I look like tired?” 

“It’s my way of telling you that you’re starting to resemble a zombie.” Valkyrie corrected and Tony smiled a little, then made an effort to smile a little more when Hot Blond came to the register. 

“Morning, Tony. How are you?” 

“Valkyrie says I look like a zombie.” Tony dug out his credit card and handed it over. “But you know, zombies are in all the movies, right? They’re sort of sexy.” 

“Valkyrie’s a punk, I think you look great.” Blonde said and dang there he went flirting again and Tony-- Tony was just too tired for this. 

“Um, thanks.” He tried for another smile and rewarded by a nearly mega watt smile. “You are uh-- you’re pretty fuckin’ hot too.” 

Sexy Barista’s eyebrows about flew off his forehead and Tony mentally face palmed. “You didn’t call me fucking hot, did you? I just escalated that for no reason, didn’t I?” 

“Up too late listening to the Beatles again?” Blonde teased and Tony snorted something that may or may not have been an answer. “Which song was it this time?” 

“I keep coming back to the hand holding one.” Tony confessed. “Its got a good rhythm when I’m typing, but also I hit repeat on my playlist and it just looped between that song and Rocketman like eight hundred times.” 

“Sounds like a fun night.” 

“It definitely wasn’t.” Tony stretched and yawned and completely missed the way both barista’s eyes sparked when his shirt rode up and showed off a little bit of stomach. “I need a life beyond school.” 

“Well, my offer for dinner is still good.” The barista took the cup Valkyrie handed him and scrawled something on the side. “If you’re up for a night out?” 

“A night out sounds awesome, but I definitely can’t do that until after finals.” Tony yawned again, groaning when his jaw popped. “Sorry.” 

“I’d wait.” The guy said immediately. “I mean, I got no problem waiting a few weeks. Not going anywhere anytime soon. Why don’t you give me a call and we’ll see how it goes?” 

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’ll definitely do that.” Tony answered absentmindedly, his attention shifting from hot blond to hot coffee and he shivered in anticipation. “Mmmmm java java java, thank you. Valkyrie, I love--” He stopped, frowned. “Wait, this isn’t my drink.” 

“Sure it is.” Valkyrie said quickly, and Blond Barista agreed, “Definitely yours, Tony.” 

“No this is um--” Tony’s frown deepened and he set the cup back down on the counter. “I don’t know who Steve is, but I’m sure he’d be mad you are giving me his coffee.” 

“You don’t know who Steve is.” Valkyrie repeated, swiveling to give very wide eyes to the blond. “You hear that? He doesn’t know who Steve is.” 

“I feel like I’m missing a joke, but I’m too tired to care.” Tony blew out a deep breath. “I gotta go or I’ll be late. Tell Steve sorry I almost stole his coffee. See you Thursday.” 

He was gone a minute later, leaving Valkyrie with tears running down her face and both hands clapped over her mouth so she wouldn’t scream with laughter, and a mystified, frustrated barista named Steve who couldn’t believe what had just happened. 

“Alright.” he clenched his jaw, which only set Valkyrie off again. “Alright, Tony is way too hot to not have had numbers written on coffee cups before. How did I screw that up?” 

“You tried to flirt with him before he’d actually had coffee.” Valkyrie explained. “What’s that, the fourth time you’ve asked him out for a date and he’s sort of said yes only to not remember it the next time? By the way, I told you he didn’t know your name.” 

“Damn it.” Steve hung his head. “I am terrible at this.” 

“Don’t give up, champ.” Valkyrie elbowed him out of the way so she could raid the display case for a snack. “He told you he thought you were fuckin’ hot, right? So even though you’re probably just a coffee producing blur right now, at least you’re a hot blur. Don’t give up.” 

“You don’t think it’s a lost cause? Or creepy to keep asking?” 

“Steve.” Valkyrie rolled her eyes. “Your version of coming on strong is writing your number on a coffee cup, and Tony is such a nice guy he assumed he’d accidentally gotten someone else’s coffee and gave it back. You two are hilariously oblivious and completely hopeless and definitely meant to have jittery, coffee fueled sex at least once.” 

“...that was a weird sentence.” 

“Eh. Not my weirdest.” 

**************

Thursday Tony was back, and this time Steve greeted him before Valkyrie could, giving the overly tired and still morning grumpy PhD candidate a big smile. “Hey Tony. How are you?” 

“Mmmph.” Tony was less verbal than usual today, rattling an alarming doze of Tylenol of out the bottle and swallowing them dry. “Mmmblergh.” 

“Charming.” Valkyrie huffed and Steve waved her off. “Tony, you need an extra shot this morning?” 

“Yes.” Tony said clearly, emphatically. “God yes. An extra shot. Right now.” 

“Do you have any fun plans for the holiday break?” Steve took Tony’s card and swiped it through the reader. “Going back to California?” 

Tony didn’t answer, but he did cock his head and squint at Steve’s over sized name tag for a moment, peering through a mess of curls and mouthing the word a few times. 

Steve held his breath, waiting the moment where Tony realized that the Steve written on Tuesday’s coffee cup had been him and his number, not some random customer....

....but the brunette only yawned and commented, “Huh. I always called you Hot and Blond in my head. Hey, do you know the customer Steve, too? I got his coffee on Tuesday. Weird.” 

“Yeah...weird.” Steve said slowly. “How much sleep have you gotten, Tony?” 

“Like four hours.” 

“Last night?” 

“This week.” 

Steve’s eyes bugged out, but Valkyrie was already handing over the extra-shot coffee and Tony was already shuffling out the door. 

“Hey Steve.” Valkyrie said casually. “Do you know the customer Steve? Tony got his coffee Tues--ack!” she yelped when Steve flung a wet dish towel at her. “Ew! What the hell--?”

“The guy is sleep deprived.” Steve scowled. “It’s not my fault he doesn’t remember me or my name.” 

“Sure. Sure it’s not.”

****************

Over the next three weeks, Steve and Tony went back and forth flirting and not flirting, successfully having conversations and then having days where Tony probably didn’t even have his eyes open as he shuffled in the door before his first class of the day. 

Sometimes Steve was really on point with his flirting and managed to get a smile and a few lines of response from Tony, other times he received nothing but bleary eyed blank looks. Sometimes Tony called him Steve, other times Tony stared at the name tag for a minute and then called Steve ‘Blondie’ anyway. 

Early one morning after an all night study session for a physics exam, Tony came in wearing a hoodie at least two sizes too big and Christmas printed leggins, and the next morning he came in wearing two different shoes and a crop top. 

One morning Steve attempted to make Tony’s coffee and Tony burst into tears because it wasn’t perfect and he was so very tired, another time Steve attempted it and got it perfect and Tony blew him at least a thousand kisses as he wandered back out onto campus. 

...it was a roller coaster of a few weeks. 

But then--

“Tones!” James Rhodes popped his head into the coffee shop and shouted for Tony, who startled out of an early morning daze with a jump and scream and almost scared Steve to death as he tried to sweep the floors before the morning rush. 

“Oh hey man.” James smirked at Steve’s dropped broom and scattered dust pile. “Did I scare you?” 

Steve lowered his brows and glared, but went back to sweeping. 

Tony didn’t recover as well though, a hand at his heart as he wheezed for breath, clutching at the counter as if he might collapse, eyes wide and expression panicky. 

“Okay you see this?” James motioned towards Tony. “You see how you almost shut down right there? This is why it’s unhealthy to drink your body weight in coffee every week. Your hair is fuzzed out, your eyes are popping-- stop with this. Stop all of this. You look terrible.” 

“I think he looks great.” Steve objected and James pointed a disapproving finger at him. 

“Just cos you’re trying to bone my friend here--” Valkyrie shrieked out a laugh and James nodded. “--yeah, don’t think I don’t know about all your lame come ons. How you gonna hit on a guy who doesn’t even function before his coffee? Tony barely knows his name before seven am and you’re trying to take him to dinner?” 

“Okay but in my defense--” 

“Honeybear, leave the hot barista alone.” Tony finally managed to find his voice. “What do you want? Why are you yelling at me? I didn’t steal your underwear today, I’m wearing my own, I promise.” 

“I actually know for a fact you aren’t wearing underwear.” James said flatly, and waved off Valkyrie’s disbelieving expression. “Don’t look at me like that, all the times I’ve seen Tony naked have been terrible and unwanted flash of dangly bits as he runs from the shower so--” 

“HONEYBEAR!”

“-- don’t whine at me, Tones. You got zero boundaries and you know it. I’m just saying I know you aren’t wearing underwear because I saw you streak around the apartment this morning and then fall into a pair of pants and run down here for coffee and an ogle at the All American Beefcake over here.” 

Steve grinned in delight, thrilled that Tony had come out this way to look at him, and James shook his head. “Nuh-uh, that wasn’t a compliment, man. Not a compliment. Anyway Tones, I came out here to tell you that you passed.” 

“...what?” Tony went very very still, still enough that Steve actually readied himself to catch the brunette if he collapsed. “I what?” 

“You passed.” A proud smile split James’s face. “You did it, Tones. Here in a few months you get to introduce yourself as Doctor Anthony Edward Stark, and hang that real pretty degree certificate on the wall.” 

“I passed?” Tony repeated. “Oh my god... I did it. I passed? I passed! Valkyrie! I passed!” 

Valkyrie whooped and cheered and whistled and James whistled out loud and clapped his hands and Tony lunged forward and grabbed at Steve, yanking him down into a spontaneous, messy kiss, crushing their mouths together for one amazing moment. 

“I passed!” Tony screeched and let go of Steve to go and tackle James into a hug. “Rhodey! I did it! We did it!” 

“Yeah Tones.” James wrapped both arms around Tony and squeezed him. “I’m real proud of you. But also, do you know you just kissed Barista Beefcake?” 

“I’m too tired to care about that.” Tony announced. “I’m going home to sleep and I will see you all in about a month.” 

Just like that he was gone, almost tripping out over his feet out the door and cheered to anyone who noticed, “I passed! I passed my exam! I can finally sleep again!” And because it was a university and they were all sleep deprived and running on coffee, everyone who heard him cheered right back. 

“Alright, listen.” Once Tony was gone, James turned back to Steve. “Don’t get any ideas about that kiss. One time Tony didn’t sleep for thirty one hours and I saw him kiss a statue and tell it thank you for guarding the sidewalk. It didn’t mean anything. But I’m gonna get him to bed and make him sleep for a week and then when he comes back in here? Then you can ask him to dinner.” 

“Wait, really?” Steve blinked at James a few times. “You’re alright with that?” 

“Look man.” James gave the most long suffering sigh to ever be sighed in the history of ever. “Tony is a disaster running on spite and caffeine but every time he comes back from getting coffee here he sings that one terrible Beatles song about holding hands.That makes him happy which makes me happy so yeah, yeah I’m alright with it.”

“...alright?” 

“So once he’s back to normal, ask him out again, I promise he’ll say yes.” 

“Thanks.” Steve’s grin was fifty shades of goofy. “I’ll do that.” 

“See that you do.” James sent Valkyrie a smile. “How you doin’?” 

“Rhodey.” Valkyrie smirked. “You gonna come out drinking with me again?” 

“I’m still hung over from the last time.” James held up both hands peacefully and backed out the door. “I’ll see you guys later, I’ve got a genius to track down.” 

Valkyrie pitched an empty cup at Steve and grinned when he batted it out of the air. “Alright, I don’t want to admit it, but Tony singing ‘I Wanna Hold Your Hand’ every time he sees you is pretty fucking cute.” 

“It’s cute right?” 

“Sort of disgustingly cute.” she agreed. “Make sure you treat him right. “

“Val, it’s a fifty-fifty he’ll even remember my name when he’s normal again.” Steve chuckled. “This will be like starting over at square one with Tony and I gotta say, I’m okay with that. It’ll be fun to know him when he’s not sleep deprived, you know?” 

“Yeah yeah.” Valkyrie started wiping down counters. “By the way, I’m calling you Barista Beefcake from now on. That’s never going away.” 

“...fantastic.” 

**************

**************

A week later, a gorgeous brunette in very expensive clothing waltzed through the door of the coffee shop. His curly hair was perfectly styled, dark eyes sparkled from well rested features and his smile was brilliant, flirty and expectant and both Steve and Valkyrie stopped and stared when he sashayed up to the counter and leaned over to turn all that charm in their direction. 

“I’ll take my usual.” he said smoothly and Valkyrie blurted, “Fuck me, is that you Tony?” 

“Who else would it be?” Tony looked a little miffed that Valkyrie hadn’t recognized him. “You act like you haven’t seen me three times a week for the last several months.” 

“Well yeah, but the last time I saw you it looked like Gollum had snuck out of the cave and crawled across my floor.” Valkyrie pointed out and Tony huffed at her. “Now you’re bloody gorgeous!” 

“I’d like to think I was always gorgeous.” Tony returned flatly. “But thank you anyway.” 

“Uh, hey. Hey Tony.” Steve gulped when the full force of those beautiful eyes turned his way. “Good morning.” 

“Good morning.” Tony wet his lips, his smile gentling into something a little more apologetic. “It’s Steve, right?” 

“Yep.” Steve tapped his over sized name tag. “Steve.” 

“Listen.” Tony cleared his throat. “I am real sorry about the last few weeks. I have it on good authority that you have been flirting with me and even asked me out a few times and I may or may not have said yes, but I don’t remember it so I feel like it doesn’t matter. There was something about a number on a cup and I thought it was meant for someone else named Steve? And um, also? Rhodey informed me I laid a hell of a kiss on you when I found out I passed my exam and I should probably apologize for that too.” 

“Well I mean--” 

“I promise I’m actually a real human person and not just a coffee fueled goblin.” Tony laughed a little and Steve felt it clear to his toes. “So um, I thought if you still wanted to try for a dinner date...?” 

He let the question trail off and Steve managed the smoothest comment of his life, and as Valkyrie passed him Tony’s usual coffee, he handed it over to the beautiful brunette and murmured, “Dinner would be great, but really? I just wanna hold your hand.” 

Valkyrie made a gagging noise, but Tony’s eyes opened wide in delight and surprise. 

“You’re my favorite.” he decided and Steve grinned. “I’ll be back at noon, Barista Beefcake.” 

“Oh good, I’m glad that’s catching on.” 

*****************

SAY SOMETHING ABOUT THE FIC!

*****************

@ships-galore @ceealaina @izziebladez @grimmkitty06 @cwar1864 @hausoffro @lookuplaughing @tonystarkisanangel @multishippinglife @girlnic @iam93percentstardust @water-colouredmemories @paranormalmoonlight5 @igotloki @moosette05 @wayward-student-philosopher @kaz-brekkers-gloves  @zerokrox-blog @zuretha-metal @tstilcr @larissaloki @blackhearted @itsallyd @megahuffledor @tabziecat @susana0 @vgurl18 @sw3etpotat0 @jade-taillia @the-pagely-gun-slinger @atomicfandombomb 

#ncts fics #stony #song fic #college au #coffee shop au #tony stark #steve rogers #valkyrie

[nightowlfandom]

(Partial) Yandere! Ardyn Izunia X Reader- I’d Rather Die (Part 2)

So in honor of my birthday comin up, I’m gonna post as much as I can for the next few days! YAY!

SO I DID A PART TWO,

READ PART ONE HERE!

Leggo!

...

(Dream Sequence) 

“Oh dear, don’t give me that face.”

“Nope, you’re a meanie.”You crossed your arms, sitting facing away from him.

“Really now, you’re being childish.” he sighed, putting a hand on your shoulder. “Turn around, Y/N.”

“Within my own right.” You huffed. “Now leave me alone.” you stood up, getting ready to storm off. Or your version of it which was to walk very slowly to see if he would follow. He usually always did.

“Hm.” you felt something wrap around your waist and looked down to see what looked like a tindril. “Hey! That’s foul play! You can’t use magic!” you whined as you felt your feet leave the floor. You were suddenly back at his side. “You and your stupid magic.”

“All is fair in love and war, Y/N.” he chuckled, wrapping his arms around you. “Now hush and rest with me.”

You looked up at your companion, for once his hair wasn’t a huge mess. He had finally listened to you and wore it in a ponytail for once. Good, it wouldn’t tickle your face when you tried to get close.

You turned to stare up at him, a pouty smile on your face. “How do you put up with me?” you asked curiously. “No really, how? I always seem to get into trouble and you never seem to mind getting me out of it” 

“Hm, I’ve stopped asking myself that long ago, dear. I’ve learned to live with it.” he chuckled before dodging a pinecone that came bolting for him. “I knew you were gonna do that.”

“Of course you did.” you huffed resting your head on his chest. There was a somewhat peaceful silence between you two. You could almost fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat. You could feel his arms tighten around your body as you relaxed under his touch. Times like these were your favorite. Playing childish games like hide and seek, star-gazing, or hiking was great, but the two of you rested together, each of you shaking off the tiresome events of the day were the best.

“My love?” 

“Hm?” you turned your head, only to be taken by surprised as his lips found yours in a chaste kiss. Just a slight peck that caught you a little off guard. “...You gotta stop doing that.”

“Hm, but then I’d never get to see that flushed face of yours.” he teased. 

“I don’t have a flushed face!” you retorted. “My face just gets warm sometimes.” 

“Sure, Y/N.” he laughed sarcastically. “Now, let us rest for a moment. I grow weary. Lie with me.”

You got comfortable and gently laid your head on his chest. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest, you could feel your eyelids getting droopy.

“Sleep.” he spoke. “I’ll wake you went we’ve rested enough.”

(End Dream Sequence)

Your first instinct was to bolt upwards, but your headache had forbade you from doing so. “Ouch.” you quietly whined. This was why you hated this so much. “Ugh.” you groaned in pain. You went to go turn, only to feel yourself fall off a ledge- well a bed for that matter. 

“OW!” you snapped. “God-damnit!” you snapped, standing to your feet. You turned around to gaze at your surroundings. You were no longer in that frozen tundra of a room, but instead what looked like a luxurious bedroom. A jacket was wrapped tightly around your frame as well. “What the-...I’m definitely not home.”

No, what happened last night (or at least you think it was last night) definitely happened. You slowly stepped forward, treading carefully. You tried to stay upright as your head pounded. It made it hard to even think. You looked around the bedroom and took note of everything. Where were you?!”

“Where am I?” you voiced your thoughts aloud, walking into what looked like a bathroom. You stood in front of the mirror, leaning against the sink. “Ugh.” you sighed. You flicked on the faucet and instantly began splashing freezing cold water on your face. 

“Hm...Y/N.” 

You peeked your head around the corner to see Ardyn walking through the door frame. You flicked off the tap and walked out the bathroom. His back was turned towards you. Did you dare attempt to try and leave? 

“Hm, there you are.” 

Ardyn turned to face you, he had a bundle of clothes tucked under his arm. “I trust you slept well.”

When you didn’t answer, his eyes narrowed in focus. He took note of you leaning against the door frame, putting a hand on your forehead every so often. Another dream-state perhaps? He stepped toward you with authority, striding up and towering over you.

Assuming he might say something, you readied yourself for the worst. Ardyn simply raised his hand, and gently grazed his knuckled across your forehead. In an instant, the pain was gone. Just like last time.

“If that happens again...tell me.” he warned. “Seeing you in such a state isn’t the best sight to see.” he said. 

“S-sorry...” you looked down at your toes. 

“Hm...I see you’ve taken a fancy to my coat.” 

You finally noticed just how tightly you had been clutching onto his jacket. Instantly shrugging it off, you handed it to him. “Here.” You grumbled. 

You were still pretty heated, the whole being kidnapped thing really put a damper on your mood. 

“Hm...thank you.” he winked, making you turn your head. “Hm, you can quit that tough act.”

“Act?” your head shot in his direction.

“You trust me, do you not? You’re here. You haven’t tried to run yet. You seemed adamant on sleeping in my coat with how tightly clutched onto it you were last night.” 

Shit, he was right. Sort of.

“Well, if you’d like to get your day started, then I suggest you hurry up and get ready. I have a change of clothes right there for you.” he held out the bundle of clothes to you. You had to wait a second, taking in everything he just said. “Your car is parked outside, I was able to retrieve it.”

“Wait...I can leave?!?” You raised an eyebrow. “You’re serious.” you crossed your arms suspiciously. “Why?”

“Of course, How would I look keeping you locked up all day?” he looked as if you had just asked him if fire was hot. “Plus, I know you would never try and disobey me. I trust you enough.”

“You barely know me.” you whisper. 

“Hm, I barely know you in this reality, my sweet. But we indeed do know each other, quite well.” he winked, making your face heat up. If he had seen the same things you had seen, then he was right. In more ways than one. 

“W-well maybe in a dream, but in reality, you’re a complete stranger to me.”

“Hm...for now. Now go if you must, but best believe I will come to return you here.” 

“How would you even find me?” you asked curiously. You weren’t trying to be a smart ass, or challenging. You were genuinely curious as to how he would find you, even if you managed to make it miles away.

“Hm, wouldn’t you like to know.” he chuckled, turning away to walk out of the door. “ I’ll leave you to get changed”

...

Weird, it felt odd to be outside with how you were trapped in such a space previously. It certainly beat being chained to a wall. You sighed dramatically, would it really be so difficult to try to escape his grasp? You weren’t 100% sure, but part of you figured that if you did so much as to even try, it wouldn’t end in your favor. 

Another thing that wouldn’t end in your favor was seeing the man you never wanted to see again find alone in broad daylight. 

“Y/N L/N!” he spat your name like it was expired, moldy, poison something. “I never thought I’d see the say you show your face alone.” he growled. 

Long story short, you had a history with making shitty friends. This one in particular, was the result of you outshining him to your shared sensei. Only one student could take his legacy and you just so happened to have been that student when you bested him in the final test battle to see who would go on to be on the royal court back in your hometown. That was so long ago, guess he never got over it.

“Oh...oh no.” you mumbled.

“I bet you thought you saw the last of me, didn’t you? I’m here to finally exact my revenge.” he snapped. 

“How exactly do you plan to do that?” you stammered over your words. “Last time I checked, we didn’t have any issues.”

“Oh, issues.” he laughed. “Don’t make me laugh.” he grabbed your wrist.

“L-let me go.” you began yanking your hand.

“Fight me, then! I’ll prove our teacher chose wrong!” he growled.

You weren’t prepared for a fight, let alone a battle. His grip had tightened around your hand.

There were a few options going through your head, they all seemed to escape you.

“ARDYN!” you heard yourself scream. His name ripped through your throat like prayer. You could hear the echo of your own voice in your head and almost nothing else. Your fears, everything you had been scared of was unfolding before you eyes and his name. His name. Was the first thing to appear in your mind. You tried to pull your arm away, only to have it pulled on even harder. “I said let me go you freak!” you struggled. 

“And just who is going to make me?” he snarled, pushing you to the ground.

Before you could answer, you felt a sudden chill wash over you. 

“I believe that would be me.”

As you hoped, Ardyn appeared. Only he looked less than amused, dawning a bronze bladed dagger in his hand. “Can’t even go a day without getting into trouble, hm? No worries my dear, I’ve prepared for this.”

“Y/N...who is this?” 

“Hm, no need to include the lady.” Ardyn chuckled sinisterly. “This is a fight between men, is it not. Or are you so weak that you go to challenge a woman who is scared of you.” There was fire in his eyes. If you looked closed enough, you just might have been able to see the devil himself unfurl his wings in Ardyn’s soul. He was beyond furious. He grabbed your (now his) opponent by the neck, lifting him up off the ground. “Just who do you think you are?” he snarled. “You don’t even deserve to breathe the same air as my dear Y/N.”

Before he could say anything else, Ardyn turned towards you.

“Love...close your eyes. You shouldn’t have to see this”

He didn’t have to tell you twice. The pained screams, demonic yells, and sounds of metal chinking and clinking against concrete was enough to give you an idea of what was going on. You could just hear the ungodly sounds of stabbing and ripping...

Ardyn’s terrifying laugh ripping through the air, sending a horrible chill down your spine.It was truly times like this that made the term “nightmare fuel” a real phrase and not just some thing edgelords used to describe something slightly scary. 

The horrible sounds were soon followed by stark silence. You suddenly felt warm hands grazed over your knuckles. “Open your eyes, my dear. The evil man is gone.”

You peeked from behind your fingers. “Is he really-”

“Dead?...Yes. You needn’t worry about him again. The important question here is...are you alright?”

“I-I’m...fine.” you stammered. “Y-you’re saved my life.”

“I’m aware.” he chuckled at you cutely stating the obvious. “It’s my duty as your protector to make short work of the scoundrels who even think they’re worthy of merely a second of laying a finger on you.” You suddenly felt a wash of deja vu wash over your head. 

“C-cool.” You suddenly got very dizzy.

Ardyn caught you just as you fell limp. Luckily he was there to catch you in time. He could almost laugh. He held you in his arms, lifting your legs off the ground to carry you in his arms. You acted like it was your first time in a duel. Ardyn knew for a fact this wasn’t the case, maybe it was a surprise. Maybe you didn’t expect him to actually show up.

“Hm, maybe it would be better if I took you back.” he mused to himself. “It’s been a long day for you, hasn’t it?”

(Dream Sequence)

“I should reprimand you for being so foolish, but I’m happy you’re alright.” an exasperated Ardyn put a bandage over your shoulder. What were you thinking!?”

“It wasn’t my fault he lunged at me first.” you sighed.

“I know, I know.” he sighed. “I was just worried about you.”

“As always.” you stared down at your shoes. “I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“As long as you’re alright.” Ardyn shook his head. “How are you feeling?”

“Better than before.” you smiled shyly. You felt a little guilty. A worried Ardyn wasn’t a happy one. “I should be asking you that.”

“It was only a minor scrape.”

“That fiend charging at you with a sword is a minor scrape, Y/N? Had I not been there you could have been killed!” he replied sternly. “If I didn’t trust you so much, you’d never leave my side.” he grabbed your shoulders and made you look at him.”Promise me you’ll be careful.”

“I promise.” You replied, nodding.

“Good, I hope you intend on keeping such a vow, Y/N.”

#ardyn x reader #ardyn izunia #ardyn lucis caelum #ardyn izunia x reader #ffxv x reader #ffxv imagines #final fantasy 15 ardyn #final fantasy x reader #yandere ardyn izunia #ff15 headcanons #ardyn izunia imagines #final fantasy 15 #ardyn x oc #ardyn x character #final fantasy xv #ardyn lucis caelum x reader

[ninjabobanekokyrie]

Osomatsu Month 2020: Part 2-I'm already broken, so tell me why I'm still fucking hurting (Cont.)

He swallows before continuing, "And I guess I was so angry because...I thought you were moving out to get back at me. For annoying you and making you miserable all those times. Like you're leaving....so you don't have to deal with me anymore. I honestly don't blame you, I'd leave too, but...I never thought I was such a bothersome presence to my brothers. To the point where one runs out. And I never thought it would upset me so much." 

He can hear Choromatsu's heartbeat, and the younger brother's chest vibrates when he speaks, "Osomatsu-niisan, don't be silly. You don't make me miserable. Annoy me, sure, of course. It would be a little weird if you didn't here and there. It's what brothers do. But not miserable. You just piss me off sometimes, that's all. All of you do. Sometimes more frequently than usual. And there have been plenty of cases where we've pissed you off too. And when we do, do you stop loving us? Do you hate us with all you have?" 

Osomatsu reluctantly answers, "Well no..." 

"Right? I don't hate you, Osomatsu-niisan. You annoy the shit out of me sometimes and there are times where I feel like you could be a better and more supportive brother, I'll admit. I don't hate you or Karamastu-niisan or Totty or Ichi or Jyushi. I don't hate any of you. How could I? You guys are my brothers. No amount of anger is gonna make me just decide that's not the case anymore or worse make me hate you. That's just ridiculous thinking. And I would never want to shove my success in your face like that. Well--sometimes I do--but not like this. I would never do it to hurt you, Nii-San. So get those stupid thoughts out of your head already, alright?" 

Osomatsu sniffled and nodded, having calmed down tremendously by now though he still leaned tiredly into the younger brother's chest. 

Choromatsu's eyes landed on Osomatsu's still reddened cheek, noticing there was now a big bruise there and mumbled, "Let me see your face." 

"Eh?" 

But Choromatsu didn't make any room for questions. He merely pulled back slightly and cupped Osomatsu's cheek, ignoring the oldest's pained protests consisting of mixes of "Choro, I'm fine" and "Ouch, that hurts!" And "You're gripping too hard!". 

"Karamatsu-niisan got you good," Choromatsu murmured, rubbing his thumb back and forward on Osomatsu's cheek. "We're gonna have to ice it when we get back home, or it'll swell up even more." He paused before pushing on, "Why would you grab Jyushimatsu like that? You know he gets protective whenever he sees one of us threatened, regardless if it's by you or not." 

"I know...I had it coming. He's been like that since we were kids." Osomatsu huffed, too tired for another lecture. "I get it." 

"Mm...true. But he's never gotten that violent with you before. The most he's ever done is yell at you. Ah, and honestly...he didn't need to hit you. That was a little out of line. Shoving you would have been the more appropriate course of action, it still would have gotten you to let go of Jyushi and in a less violent way, too." 

Osomatsu shot him a surprised look, "Are you actually...defending me?" He asked, baffled. 

Choromatsu puffed out his cheeks, looking annoyed. "Geez, don't sound so surprised. I've come to your aid plenty of times in the past. ...But in a way, yes. You were being a major asshole, but he wasn't any less of a jerk by hitting you like that. You were both wrong tonight. Though...not just you guys were in the wrong. I was a little, too." 

"You? Why?" 

"I should have given you a heads up on the job. I guess I just...knew how you were gonna react. Or at least I thought I knew. I was obviously way off base, because I ended up hurting you. Pretty badly. And I never want to hurt any of my brothers like that. I was trying to avoid the bad, but I just ended up causing the worse. I wanted this to be a happy night, not a night full of anger and pain. You have a right to be upset, Osomatsu-niisan. I'm sorry I didn't tell you." 

He swallows before looking Oso dead in the eyes, "But I'm serious, this is just a job. It's not like I'm moving to another state or something. I'm still gonna be around you guys a lot, just not as much. And I'll write. And call. And when I do, you better pick up, Oso." 

Seeing Choromatsu's glare yet the promising look shining in his eyes that says 'I'm not going anywhere, get that through your dense skull you dumbass', Osomatsu is finally convinced and he lets out a trembling laugh, pressing his face to Choro's shoulder to hide the new fallen tears of relief. 

"I will, Fappymatsu." 

"Finally. I thought I'd never get through to you." Choromatsu sighs, tone mixture of his own relief and frustration as he leans back on the bench slightly, looking up at the stars. 

After a couple minutes, the green clad uttered, "Let's head home, Oso. It's getting cold out here." 

"But they all hate me now, Choro-Chan..." Osomatsu whined, shaking his head and burrowing himself deeper into the latter's side. 

"Man...when did you become such a baby, Osomatsu-niisan?" Choromatsu frowned. "They don't hate you. I promise. They were just scared. Now they're probably super worried, so we've gotta get back." 

Osomatsu looked up at him with teary eyes , and Choromatsu's heart ached for the millionth time tonight. "Even Karamachu?" 

"Especially Karamatsu. Come on, we've been through enough tonight. The last thing we need is to freeze our asses off." 

"Okay..." 

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

"Have they come back yet?" Karamatsu asked anxiously, gazing down at his fist in guilt. 

"Not yet," Todomatsu hummed, looking up from his phone to glance at the clock. "It's eleven....I'm sure they're fine though." 

"I'm not so sure. Osomatsu usually comes back way before eleven. Well, at least when he's not at Chibita's. In situations like these he always comes back before nine." Karamatsu swallowed hard, his guilt doubling. "This is my fault. I shouldn't have hit him." 

Todomatsu shook his head, glaring at him. "No, Karamatsu-niisan. He had it coming. Don't blame yourself." 

"Even if he did, I still shouldn't have done it. I hurt him, Totty. And if I hadn't gotten so angry and done so he wouldn't have stormed off." Karamatsu sighed shakily. "It's my fault." 

"Do you think Nii-San's okay?" Jyushimatsu asked next, uncharacteristically frowning. 

"He's fine. You all are worrying too much. They'll be home soon." Ichimatsu pipes up from his corner of the room. 

"We've been saying that for the past two hours and they're still not back yet. I'm going out to look for them." Karamatsu decides, getting to his feet and approaching the door, slipping his shoes on. 

Just as he reached for the doorknob, it turned and the door opened and Karamatsu was met with two mirror versions of himself. One of which had tear stains plastered across his cheeks. 

Mind still processing Osomatsu's state, Karamatsu stood frozen in shock as Choromatsu gently pushed the eldest Matsu inside and shut and locked the door behind them. 

Jyushimatsu rushes past Karamatsu and throws his arms around Osomatsu's waist, squeezing tightly. "Nii-san's okay! I was worried!!!" 

Osomatsu gave a guilty smile, ruffling Jyushimatsu's hair lightly, "I'm fine, Jyushimatsu. Sorry for making you worry." 

Choromatsu called over to Todomatsu, "Oi Totty, do you think you can go get some ice? I need it for Oso's face." 

Hearing that made Karamatsu flinch, and he kept his eyes upon Osomatsu who rubbed the yellow Matsu's hair affectionately as Jyushi clung to him, hearing Totty reply "Kay" and leave the room. 

Osomatsu swallowed thickly, "Jyushimatsu"

"Eh?" Jyushimatsu looked up at him with big, concerned eyes. 

"Let me see your stomach." 

"Ah? Okay, Nii-San." Jyushimatsu uttered, stepping back and doing as he was told, pulling up his hoodie revealing a bandaged bruise, though it was wrapped up the bruise was big so he could still see some of it. 

Osomatsu gently rubbed it, tears filling his eyes. 

Fuck he was such an asshole...

"Karamatsu-niisan wrapped it up for me. It really doesn't hurt too much. I've had worse. In fact, this one time--eh? Osomatsu-niisan?" 

Jyushimatsu was cut off by Osomatsu straightening up and pulling the younger Matsu into a tight hug, squeezing lightly. 

"I'm sorry, Jyushimatsu." Osomatsu apologized bitterly. "I didn't mean--I shouldn't have done that to you." 

"D-Don't apologize, Nii-San. You told me to stop and I didn't listen, I deserved--" 

"No!" Osomatsu growled, causing Jyushimatsu to jump slightly and Oso's heart throbbed with remorse, and he softened his voice repeating, "No. Don't you dare fucking say that. You didn't, you hear me? You didn't. I was upset because I knew Fappymatsu would have to leave...but that doesn't mean it gives me a right to hurt my baby brother. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, Jyushimatsu." 

Small tears appeared in Jyushi's own eyes. "Nii-San..." he sniffled shakily. 

Osomatsu leaned back, grinning weakly with two tears running down his cheeks and finger rubbing under his nose, "Heh. Think you can forgive your shitty Onii-Chan?" 

Jyushimatsu didn't hesitate, letting out a small sob and diving into Osomatsu's chest somewhat roughly, "Don't cryyy, Nii-San! I forgive you, I forgive you! I love you, Nii-San!" 

Osomatsu snorted in amusement, smiling with relief and showered his younger brother with a couple of light kisses to his hairline and cheek, causing Jyushimatsu to burst into giggles. 

"Onii-Chan loves you too~" he said, pressing the last of his kisses to the yellow Matsu's hairline. He let go of the latter and allowed him to bound happily over to sit next to Ichimatsu, energetic grin back upon his face. 

"Got the ice, Choromatsu-niisan." Totty announced as he reentered the room. 

"Thanks, Totty." Choro uttered, taking the bag of cubes and walking over to Osomatsu, pushing him into a sitting position. 

"It's gonna hurt at first." he informed the older brother. 

Osomatsu shrugged, and Choromatsu pressed the bag of ice to the elder's cheek and he instantly hissed in pain. 

"Ow that hurts Choro-Chan...!" Osomatsu whined, sniffing. 

"I literally just told you it would!" Choromatsu glared in frustration. 

"But you didn't tell me that it would hurt this bad!" 

Choromatsu rolls his eyes irritably and continues to hold it there before he hands it to Osomatsu, "Just hold it there, alright?" 

Osomatsu chewed his lip and nodded, doing as he was told. 

"We're going to have a talk tomorrow, okay?" Choromatsu states, looking around at all of them. "All of us. A sextuplet meeting. Like the ones we used to have when we were kids when one of us had a problem." 

The others all except Osomatsu nod quietly. 

"Do we have to?" Osomatsu yawns, frowning at him. 

"It's nothing bad, Osomatsu." Choromatsu is quick to assure him. "We just want to help, that's all." 

"Sure sounds bad." 

"Oso...please. It's gonna be fine, I promise." 

Osomatsu snorts, looking away from the green Matsu with a bitter look on his face. 

Then Osomatsu yawns again sleepily, and Choromatsu moves to grab his shoulders, "Alright, off to bed, Osomatsu." He says and begins steering him towards the staircase and up each stair. 

Choromatsu gazes at the ground as Osomatsu changes into his pajamas and climbs into the futon. 

Once Osomatsu is settled, Choromatsu sits down next to the older Matsu. 

"The others will be up in a bit." He informs him. 

Osomatsu doesn't say anything, just merely pushes his head into the third born's lap mutely. 

Choromatsu pauses, startled, then slowly lowers his hand and begins running his hand through the latter's locks. 

They say nothing else as Osomatsu slowly drifts off to a dreamless sleep. 

#osomatsu san #osomatsu matsuno #karamatsu matsuno #choromatsu matsuno #ichimatsu matsuno #jyushimatsu matsuno #todomatsu matsuno #fanfic #anti matsucest #choukeimatsu #choukeimatsu angst #sokudomatsu #bakamatsu #brotherly angst #angst #osomatsu month 2020 #alternate ending #idk if im going to continue this #we'll see #k bye

[thepinkwriterr]

Loner // IT 2017 Chapter Twenty - One

Dodie Clark - She

-

Am I allowed to look at her like that?

Could it be wrong, when she's just so nice to look at?

And she smells like lemongrass and sleep

She tastes like apple juice and peach

You would find her in a Polaroid picture

And she means everything to me

I'd never tell

No, I'd never say a word

And oh it aches

But it feels oddly good to hurt

She smells like lemongrass and sleep

She tastes like apple juice and peach

You would find her in a Polaroid picture

And she means everything to me

And I'll be okay

Admiring from afar

Cause even when she's next to me

We could not be more far apart

Cause she tastes like birthday cake and story time and fall

But to her

I taste of nothing at all

Cause she smells like lemongrass and sleep

She tastes like apple juice and peach

You would find her in a Polaroid picture

And she means everything to me

Yes, she means everything to me

She means everything to me

//

Danielle's POV

"Uck, that's disgusting." Beverly cringed. Me, Bev, Richie, and Eddie gawked at Casey's table. Clair Benson, one of her pets, was running her hands through his hair while they talked. Casey and Bill were playing tonsil tennis, effectively ruining my appetite.

"When the hell did Stan become a traitor?" I asked, scooting my tray away from my face. "Over the weekend when you were at home. We were at a party and I introduced them. They started talking about stories of each other from school. It was weird as fuck." Beverly rolled her eyes.

"No, you're the whore!" Richie and Eddie came in, arguing once again. "I'm not a whore. If anything, you are!" Eddie retorted, sitting in a plastic chair across from me.

"I don't know Rich...I gotta agree with Eds, you are drowning in pussy." I humored him. He smirked,"Maybe you're right. I had Marina Ledges just begging for Lil Henry the other day."

"'Lil Henry'?" Bev asked, disgust on her face. "Yeah. Y'know...My d-" "We got it Rich!" Eddie interrupted, yelling. "I'm a pussy annihilator!" Richie smirked proudly.

"Really? Then why did Sarah Jesso reject you? She's a known hoe. She would fuck Eddie. No offense Eddie." Bev added in.

"On second thought, I think Eddie's the whore. I mean, have you seen the way he stares at Mr. Zigs?" Richie asked wryly, smirking. "I am not boning my Biology teacher! I get my grades honestly through tireless studying and grueling homework!"

We all laughed. "I don't know Eds, Richie may be right." Bev chuckled. "Yeah. I mean, I've seen the way you two stare at each other, biting your lips and hiking up your shorts to show off your thighs." I shrugged.

"Fuck you guys!" Eddie exclaimed, throwing his things in the trash. We all turned to gawk at the PDA coming from the table of whores once again. When Eddie came back he joined in, muttering something about sucking face.

The bell rang, dismissing us from lunch. "Thank god," I grumbled to Bev as we walked down the hallway,"If I had to look at that for one more second I was gonna barf." "Me too." Beverly scowled.

Someone shoulder checked me. I looked ahead, seeing Casey's dumbass. "Just let it go, Dani." Beverly held my arm, keeping me in place. I exhaled calmly,"You're right, you're right."

We sat in the library, talking about things. She told me that Jake told her what happened. "So, he kinda caused your guys breakup?" She asked.

I chuckled,"No. Both Bill and I were at fault. But regardless, we weren't meant for each other, clearly." Bev nodded,"You're being really mature about this, good for you." She smiled.

What I didn't tell her was how and why I was being so mature. I didn't mind the fact Bill had fucked me over. I didn't mind because now I could feel whatever I wanted for anyone without feeling bad.

"Well, I gotta go. Ben and I gotta study for calculous." She stood, pushing in her chair. I nodded,"Have fun." Sometimes I forget that they're all in the year above me. Everyone except Eddie.

When the bell rang again I grabbed my things and hauled ass from History to Bio. I was hasty to get to the room, as it was my last class of the day. On my way to class I felt someone shoulder check me again.

But this time Beverly wasn't here to keep me level-headed. I turned, slapping Casey. "You fucking whore!" I spat. I could see the anger bubbling up through her, exiting her mouth in the form of a comeback,"At least I can keep a guy, shit you-"

"No that fuck you can't! Bill only went back to you because he thought I didn't want him. You're just a cheap version of me, and you know it. That's why you hate me. Because I'm classy and you're t-"

She punched me in the ribs. It didn't hurt too bad. I rolled my eyes. "Trashy." I finished. She screamed, trying to jump on me. I moved out of the way swiftly. I ran to my class, that was only a few steps away, and nearly avoided her.

About ten minutes later I was called down to the office. I received a detention, while Casey got off...you guessed it! Scott free. That bitch.

Kali's POV

I woke up to a pounding headache once again. I groaned, sitting up slowly. I took some pain numers, then went about my morning routine.

When I got to school all I wanted to do was see Beverly. I knew she was hanging out with Danielle and the rest of the famed Losers Gang.

Another morning spent alone in the bathroom...

Everyday I waited for History and Biology, dreading anything before or after. Our projects were done after today, no need for her to continue to pretend to be my friend.

As I walked down the hallway, ready for History, I ran into a large person. I fell straight on my ass. "Oh, I'm so sorry!" He pulled me up with his large hand. "No, you're fine, it was my fault." I was distracted, focused soully on seeing Bev.

"No no, it's my fault. And how could I have missed such a beautiful girl." He smirked. I recognized him as Ben Hanscom. "I um-I-I-" His smirk stood still,"It's alright. How about I make it up by taking you out this Friday night?" He leaned against the wall.

"I-I have a boyfriend." I ran past him, up the stairs.

History couldn't have rolled around any slower! I sat across from the acclaimed red head, staring at the back of her beautiful hair.

As the teacher droned on and on about the French Revolution and marquis de lafayette's genius, the words of Stevie Nicks rang through my mind.

Something's happening

Happening to me

My friends say I'm acting peculiarly

C'mon baby

We better make a start

You better make it soon before you break my heart

Oh I

I want to be with you everywhere

Oh I

I want to be with you everywhere

And it was true. I look at this woman. This divine creation of beauty. I felt my face still burning. I tried to control my blush, but I just couldn't.

I packed up my things, ready for the school day to be over. The bell rang, dismissing the students. A note fell over my books. I looked up to see Beverly, holding tightly onto her book bag straps, looking over her shoulder at me as walked out the door. She winked before she crossed the doorway.

I smiled, picking up the note. Scrawled in her pretty loopy hand writing was: We still on for a sleepover? I smiled as I read her name signed at the bottom: Beverly

Danielle's POV

I walked down the staircase to the detention room. Boy oh boy was I in it when I got home. If my day wasn't bad enough you could not believe the only other person in the room. Richie goddamn mother fuckin Tozier.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the P-" "Save it, Creep." He was taken back by this. I hadn't said anything of the sort to him in a very long time.

I looked to the front, ignoring him. My dumbass didn't bring anything with me. My things were in my book bag in my car. I sighed, knowing he wouldn't leave me to sulk in peace. I knew my inevitable fate at home.

He was fucking humming. Again. "Could you fucking stop?" I asked, hatred packed in my words, turning around to face him.

"What am I doing wrong?" He asked, tilting his head in a benign way, continuing his humming. I rolled my eyes. "Don't look at me." He stoped to be a dick, then continued humming.

Furrowing my brows out of confusion,"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I stood, walking over to him. "You're-you're unbelievable! I try to be nice! I try so fucking hard! And you're-you're just a dick to me! All. The. Time!"

He smirked, the corner of his mouth raising. That smirk made all of my anger melt away. Any anger I had ever felt for him dipped off me like a cheap candle and puddled on the floor below me, absorbing into the carpet.

His eyes shone brightly, the florescent lights capturing their beauty in full. Those beautiful eyes. Those Sienna eyes that I had grown to love.

Love? Really Danielle? Do I love him... No, no I couldn't. I can't. But god, those eyes were so inviting and made me feel so warm that I could look into them at the depths of the sea and still feel at home.

Maybe I do love him. No, I know I love him. I mean, how could you not love someone who made you feel like they built the sun, just for you?

How could you not love someone who made you feel that every breath you took was the first that had ever been taken? How could you not love someone who made you feel as if they didn't need music, that your voice was the only melody they ever needed. So how could I not be in love with him?

As I stared into his doe eyes that were magnified by his thick lenses, I thought about what I wanted to tell him. And I opened my mouth:

"I love you. I love you so much. I look at you and all I see is this beautiful human being.

All I see is your smile, your eyes that look brutal and theres a defining pain there, but so much love.

All I see are your dark curls, framing your gorgeous face. Your face could melt away the deepest of stresses, making malignant days seem like heaven on earth.

Your long, taut legs. Your thin cascading arms, leading to large, lithe hands.

Every part, every Inch, ever freckle, every pale section of your being is beautiful. There isn't a part of you that I wouldn't feel honored and blessed to love."

But I didn't open my mouth. I didn't say what I needed to say. I didn't tell him that he's everything I could and would ever need.

I didn't tell him his eyes remind me of rainy days spent inside under the covers.

I didn't tell him that I love him.

Kali's POV

I sat across from Beverly in Biology, filling out a sheet. She made a corny joke about atoms, a smile forcing it's way to my face. We both erupted into innocent laughter.

Just the sound of her giggling voice made my heart flutter. And I knew, in that moment, that I wasn't like other girls. I wasn't normal.

Danielle's POV

"You're not so innocent, Princess. You..." We droned on and on about why the other person was at fault for our broken friendship. It was breaking me to tear him down.

"And-and your perfect face, beautiful hair, long legs..." His tone softened,"You just sit there and pretend I hate you! You sit there and you can't see that you're breaking my heart! You stand here and act like the reason I hate you isn't because I can't stand the thought of you with Bill! You're breaking my heart Danielle. You're fucking breaking my heart."

All I could do was look into his eyes. He had a tears escaping his eyes, only making a short way from his tear ducts before wiping them away. He looked to me for a response.

I opened my mouth to say something, but I couldn't muster up anything.

He cradled the back of my head, pulling me in close to him. He crashed his soft lips into mine.

Word Count: 2170

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[madscientistjournal]

Fiction: The Titan Through the Dust

An essay by Claire Gainsborough, as provided by Joachim Heijndermans Art by Leigh Legler

You’ve seen it. Everyone’s seen it. Kids know of it from their school books. It’s been on TV, in movies, and in every history book published in the years after the incident of Singapore City. Hell, even if you’ve never seen the actual shot, you’ll know it from the ripoffs and the parodies and the references by college kids trying to be artsy in their projects. Cultural osmosis, I think they call it. It’s a hell of a thing, to have your work be absorbed by the current zeitgeist and spat back out, like a cheesy meme passed around on Twitter, to the point that everyone around the world will instantly recognize your photo on sight, even if they have never heard your name.

And I gotta say, with the passage of time, I don’t know how I even feel about the shot anymore. For one thing, it’s been nearly twenty years since I aimed that camera, pressed my index finger down, and made a piece of history in a split second of time. So yeah, that part’s cool. But you’ll be hard pressed to find anyone familiar with any of my other work. Last year I had a book collection of my travel photography published in conjunction with Nat Geo. Sales were so-so. Biggest complaint? That shot wasn’t in it. That’s all that people want anymore. Kagemura, on the most devastating day of my life.

Is this what Eisenstaed felt like when he shot that photo of the VJ day in New York? I doubt it, because even if that kiss was forced and all that, it still had some sense of beauty to it. A joy was captured in that scene. My shot? It’s beautiful in its own terrifying way. But I just see the carnage. Carnage in blood, rubble, and dust. Absolute carnage.

~

This morning I got an offer to do the photography at a wedding. It’s a famous couple. You know them, I guarantee it, but I signed an NDA before I even met with them, so I can’t say much about it other than that the money is blasphemously great. Had I accumulated any, I could have paid back my college loan debts three times over. It’s insane. And do you know what they called me when they rang me up? Claire? Of course not. I was “that Kagemura lady.” They wanted that style for their reception. As in, that exact style. Happiest day of their life, but shot in a sepia tone and with the sun partially blocked. I said yes, obviously, as the KSF needs the cash more than I do. My best guess is they just didn’t realize people actually died when I took it.

I’m tired of talking about the shot in public, to be honest. Because that’s all that people discuss when the topic of my work comes up. The technique. The type of lens I used. The other dumb crap. And it’s so … what’s the word I’m looking for? Dull. Yeah, that’s it. It’s dull. It’s technical jargon and people standing around printouts of it with glasses of champagne in hand, each of them trying to find something new and profound to say about the photo. In the end, it’s just words. Words about a picture I took in the spur of the moment as I was half-suffocated by ash and grime.

Nobody ever asks what it was like, being there when it all came down. I think that’s why they’re all drawn to the photo. It’s a way to get close, but not too close to the actual awfulness of it all. The Disneyland version of it, where they can see the horrible monster without having to think about what it can do and what it did.

I want to talk about that day. What it was like. This is what happened on that day when I shot The Titan Through the Dust. My opus, I suppose.

~

Do people take gap years anymore? Or is that just a rich people thing these days? I swear, every time I talk to a student who either has never heard of a gap year, or worse, mentions they couldn’t afford it because they have student loans to pay back, it just reminds me again and again how I was born with a silver spoon up my ass. I love my mom and my dads, who really did their best to pool everything two orthodontists and a lawyer could scrape together to get their ditzy daughter through college pain-free, but boy howdy did they shield me from the realities of the world. Might be why it hit me as hard as it did when the earth literally opened up that day.

Anyway, I’m off topic. Back to the event.

I’d just graduated with my BA in programming and game design. Yeah, that’s right. Claire Gainsborough, the one whose book your mom has on the coffee table and who shot that photo you owned the poster of, wanted to make a career for herself in video game production. The art critics either tactfully neglect to mention that whenever they praise my photo work, or somehow bring up the supposed influence that “Banjo-Kazooie” on the N64 had on my choice of angle and lighting. I don’t know if any of that is true, as I only played it for about a week and a half during a retro-game bender in college, but whatever. To wrap it up, I graduated the course and had my fill of screens and code and engines after four years, so I chose to take a year to travel. I wanted to see the world and snap some pictures along the way to fill up a scrapbook or a blog or something. I never expected to go down in the history books as the next Joe Rosenthal, which only happened after my photo began circulating around the net and Nadaria, my agent, hooked me in and began to tour my shot, helping me realize I had a knack for a good photo. Lucky me, falling into a career like that.

I’ve often thought about going back into video games, make a simple platformer or an RPG with cute cartoon animals who save the world. But I just can’t seem to muster the drive to sit down and do it. I mean, making video games? After what I witnessed and lived through? It seems so quaint … no, childish even. How do I imagine the fantastical anymore? How can I create the illusion of power, when I’ve seen what real, actual raw ball-busting power looks like in the flesh? Now that I know what it feels like as it walks past you, too large to notice something as insignificant as me? What the air around it tastes like as it marches onward? How can anything compare? Well, I guess only Team Ico got close, and maybe those “God of War” guys, but still–

Wait, wasn’t I talking about gap years? Sorry. I got way off topic.

~

So, my gap year. The idea was that I’d backpack through Asia. Had a whole route planned out. I’d start in Jakarta and see all the Indonesian islands one by one (which I did in three weeks’ time). Then it would be on to Singapore, then Malacca, Kuala Lumpur, Krabi in Thailand, and so on up the peninsula and into the continent. My final stop would be in Wakkanai, the most northern spot on Hokkaido, Japan. It was going to be the experience of a lifetime. Just traveling, seeing the sights, taking selfies, and going out at night with whomever I met along the way. Food. Sun. Shots out of someone’s belly button. And maybe there’d be things that would go horribly wrong, and I would have had to wash dishes for a week to get my ticket out of there. Something I would vlog about and then do a book and the whole shebang. Then, twenty years down the line, they’d make a movie about it with someone who doesn’t look a thing like me, but is willing to look less pretty on screen for when the awards season rolls around. That’s where I was with my mind at the time. Just laughs, experiences and the idea of fame coming from my Asian trek.

I didn’t get that far, barely a quarter way of the journey. As you might guess, my third day in Singapore was the March the 23rd. The first Kagemura Ascendance. Day Zero.

What I did those first two days in Singapore is a haze for me now. I doubt anyone really remembers what they did on half their vacations down the line. But I’ll tell you this: everyone who was there can recall that day with near 100% accuracy. I guarantee it. What they had for lunch. Who they talked to. What clothes they put on that morning. All of it. Trust me on this one.

As for me? I was in the midst of an iced coffee and a croissant with an omelet and chives, which I’d told myself would be the only familiar food I’d eat that day (part of the whole “experience the local cuisine” thing I was going for). It was 10:32 AM on the dot, and breakfast was coming to a close in the dining area. I had my nose in my tablet … like, nose in the book, but I guess it doesn’t go in a tablet. Is there a phrase for that? Dang. I’m rambling. Sorry. I always ramble when that day comes up. It’s … it’s difficult to talk about this. But anyway, I was planning out my day, when my glass trembled. And when I say trembled, I mean it was flung right off my table.

That’s when it started.

~

It’s funny, but the camera I used that day? A hand me down. The most famous modern photographer, and I didn’t even go out and get my own equipment. It was one of my dad’s, my biological one, who had bought it for a summer trip he and my step-mom were going to take down to Tijuana. Then he won an even better one at a sweepstakes thing with the Shoprite around the block, so he gave me the Canon for my trip.

It’s never taken more than thirty photos, and twenty-eight of them are pics from the plane, the hotel, and the pool that was on the roof. The other two are from after the attack. The camera itself now sits on my mantle, still dirty and containing its original memory card. A conversation piece, really. I use better stuff for work.

I don’t know why I keep it. I’ve had to fish it out of the trash over six times, thrown out during my darker mood episodes that are common to people with survivor’s guilt (according to my therapist). Two other times, Carla, the lady who comes in every Tuesday to clean, pulled it out. She just put it back and never said a word about it. She looks out for me. Bless her heart. I should really be nicer to her. Like, to her face, instead of anonymously paying her daughter’s college tuition as I have been.

But yeah, the camera. It sometimes drives me batty. It sits there, reminding me of what I’d done. What I could have done. There are still days I desperately want to get rid of it. But then I would blind the last eye that saw them.

~

It was so sudden. There wasn’t any build up to it at all. A calm, serene morning the one moment, and then the earth broke open like a fresh baguette ripped in two. A horrible noise blasted past us, a sound wave of broken steel and ten billion nails against ten billion chalkboards, that threw us from our feet. Before anyone could react, the glass in all the windows shattered, broken by the pitch of the sound. That was the first roar, but I didn’t find that out until later.

I wasn’t hurt, but I could hear the people in the streets scream as the shards came down on them. While everyone else in the dining area ran for the nearest exit and the stairs, I leaped under my table, which might have been what saved me from what came after. Not a conscious choice. Just a habit I picked up from my time dealing with the L.A. quakes.

Now, for a while, I didn’t have a clue what was going on outside. There weren’t any tremors after the initial quake, but from the sounds, I knew it had to be bad. I just stayed where I was, in case someone came to get me. No one did. In fact, the first sign that things were weird was the sudden collective silence. There were some loud astonished gasps and some incoherent yelling, but it didn’t sound like anyone was in a panic.

Then came the second roar. And with that, hell was unleashed on the city.

There are reports of what happened in the initial strike as it emerged. I’ve read them all, but they don’t mean anything to me. Just a list of factoids and hypotheses about its tunneling ability and how long it laid dormant underneath Singapore, a sleeping giant upon which we just built a city. What I could gather from them was that, just by coming up from its resting place, it took out three of the adjacent buildings in an instant. After that, it stumbled about for a bit. While it wasn’t like it was immediately attacked, something must have set it off in a real bad way, because what it did next is what hit the building I was in.

But back to the massive tremor that knocked everything over. At the time, I thought it was an earthquake, which is why I leaped under the table. That theory went out the window the second a purple beam of pure heat ripped across the city skyline and shredded through buildings. The Summer Palms hotel I was in lost its top eight floors in one swoop. If anyone screamed, I didn’t hear it on account of my eardrums shattering (still have the tinnitus as a souvenir).

I think I may have hidden under that table for a good ten to fifteen minutes before I crawled out. Dust was already coming down like snow in December, but I could feel the rays of the sun hitting me. The roof was gone. Not broken. Not damaged. Gone. Rendered to dust.

As I look back now, I’m surprised as all hell that I didn’t panic. Somehow I kept myself level, waited for a couple of minutes after the heat blast took out the top floors, then just grabbed my backpack and ran for the exit, nearly tripping over people that just lay there in the path. Were they dead or unconscious? I haven’t the foggiest, as I was too busy trying not to get trampled by the others who made their way down. But I remember cursing myself for going out to breakfast in flip-flops that day, since they made my escape three times harder. I tripped and fell down a flight of stairs, bruising my knee and scraping my arms. It hurt, but I forgot about the pain when another beam blasted overhead. I saw its purple light ripping through a cloud of dust, but the sound from within was that of steel melting, foundation crumbling, and screams silenced in an instant. I didn’t think about it, or at least I tried not to. I just ran down the stairs with one thought on my mind: escape. Run like hell and try to make it out on the street. Maybe there would be somewhere I could hide. Find an ambulance or a cop I could hitch a ride with. Be anywhere but a demolished building that could topple down any moment.

Then the stairs collapsed right out from under me.

~

Hours had passed when I finally woke back up, though I didn’t find out about that until later. When I came to, there was nothing but darkness around me. Engulfed in panic, I shrieked and flailed my arms wildly in an attempt to break free, thinking I’d been trapped. Technically, I was, but it wasn’t rubble I was stuck under. Three men, two women, and a potted plant had tumbled on top of me and shielded me from the debris. There were other people, who all laid there as limp ragdolls, with not a single sign of life among them. I remember I started sobbing, even though no tears were coming out of my eyes. For a bit, I stumbled in the semi-darkness to try and find a way out by touch, which I did eventually. Bad news? It was blocked with rubble. No way out but either wait for help or dig. I seriously considered just waiting it out. Help would come soon, and I wasn’t in a bad place. Then the earth shook again. So I dug.

Like a frightened mole, I burrowed my way through the dirt with ferocious speed till my fingers bled. I credit my adrenaline for giving my 125 pound frame the strength I needed to get out of there, even as I hacked up my lungs in the process. It wasn’t until that first beam of light hit my face that my heart finally stopped trying to leap out from my chest.

Wasting no time for comfort, I dug out a hole large enough for me to fit through. I pushed my bag out and followed suit, writhing like a worm after a rainstorm. I stumbled and fell twice, scraping my knees again, but I’d done it. I’d made it outside on the street, although I still couldn’t breathe for shit, with the massive dust cloud seeping right into my nostrils and lungs. My eyes narrowed in an attempt to keep the dust out of them. None of it mattered. I was deaf, dumb, and blind, stumbling through a cloud of dirt. Every exhale was a cough. I could feel the blood in my lungs and tear ducts. I knew with absolute certainty I was going to die. But I still kept going.

It was then that I remembered the bottle of water in my backpack. I scrambled for it blindly, overjoyed to find it unbroken. With some sloppy haste, I pooled some of it into my hand and splashed it in my face. A reprieve. Water had never felt that good on my skin. And with that, I got my sight back.

Then I wished I hadn’t.

~

There’re these two paintings by Goya. They get brought up and compared a lot in the art books that have my photo in them. Pose and lighting and all that. I do see it. And yet (and I’m going to be completely honest here), I’d never seen them before I took that picture. But I see their point when the comparison is brought up again and again between The Colossus and my photo. Goya couldn’t have known what it would be like, to see a massive behemoth waltz across through mist and smoke. But he nearly got it. Out of all the paintings, he came the closest. Because he got the dust right.

The dust. That’s all I could see that day. The dust. After the first few buildings collapsed, the dust shot out over every inch of the city. It became a cloud. No, not a cloud. More of a ghost. A specter. A second monster, a mollusk of granite and ash and human remains that fell down on the city like a sheet of pain and tears. The bride of the beast, a herald to its approach and a silent mourner, standing vigil in the wake of its terrible walk. I remember the dust more than Kagemura itself. The creature was just a flash that passed by, shone its giant eyes down at the little people screaming for their lives below, then stomped off.

There’s a second Goya painting. Saturn devouring his Son. This giant titan, the most ghastly dude you can ever imagine, is ramming this little kid into his gaping maw, all on account of a prophecy that proclaimed his children would bring his downfall. He eats a child to preserve his own future.

Goddammit, Goya. Get the hell out of my head.

~

Dust. Nothing but a giant cloud of dust as far as the eye could see. I felt like I’d walked into a grey-brown fog, and the city that had been there a few hours earlier was now a “Silent Hill” level, but a lot hotter. With the towel from my backpack, I made a mask to cover my nose and face, while I blocked my eyes with my hands, peering through my fingers. For some reason, I also took out my camera, the Canon, and just held onto it. I’m not sure why. Maybe as my last testament? Was I that certain of my death?

Now, I had no idea what to do next. Where was I walking to? To safety. Where was that? I didn’t have a clue. There were faint sirens that came from every direction. Muffled screams beyond the dust clouds. And me in the middle of it all.

I picked a direction on pure instinct and just booked toward it. Me, missing one flip-flop and with half a bottle of water, a towel, and a camera, shuffled in the direction to what I’d assumed was away from the danger. My foot got cut up on the rocks and debris, but I managed by some miracle to avoid any glass shards. Here and there I’d see what I thought were bodies, but to keep myself from completely losing it, I tried to block them out.

Then I heard it again, even with my fuzzy hearing and blood-soaked ears. The sound that had announced its attack and shattered all the glass. The sound of hell. The roar. I turned around, trying to see where it was coming from, which seemed like from all directions at once. Destruction in surround sound. Each breath was a hurricane. The beat of its heart was an earthquake. While I couldn’t see it through all the dust and debris, I knew it was close. Hell, I didn’t even know what “it” was at the time. The sounds were just unexplained noises. I still thought it was some kind of a bomb at the time. That’s what I assumed the source of the heat was. I tried to rationalize it all. Terrorists. A war. Or an accident. Gas pipes. All these rational explanations for all that horror. Something to just make a little sense of it all.

And then I saw it. For real this time, as it stepped right over me. I couldn’t comprehend what I was looking at. But in that moment, like a reflex, I aimed the camera and pressed the button.

~

A few weeks ago, in an interview with Time for the tenth anniversary of the Singapore attack, I told them that I’d only seen Kagemura the one time, back when I snapped the picture. That’s actually not true, and I should apologize for my lie. I’d actually seen it twice. The second time was about seven years after Singapore, during the three-year hiatus when they couldn’t locate the creature anywhere, during my trip to Switzerland. Yeah, you’ve seen the story. You know where this is going.

I was in the midst of climbing to the top of a mountain whose name I can’t remember, because who cares what mountains are called anymore when actual titans now walked the earth? I climbed it because I hated skiing and I wanted to get away from the world and the aura of sorrow and fear it had wrapped itself in since the monster began to walk across the landscape. Stupid me.

I saw it in the early morning, lit up by the early sun’s rays as it breached the dew that descended from the Alps with its massive frame. It was actually more bizarre to see it there. A giant crab/dinosaur/eel that keeps going in and out of the Chinese sea wasn’t that out of place in that area, if you know what I mean. But in Switzerland, among the green hills glistening with dewdrops and the sturdy pine trees that formed a carpet of bark and needles, it was as if Heidi suddenly got a weird last chapter. It was more alien than ever out there. Especially since it didn’t do anything.

There was no fire that day. There were no screams. It wasn’t even loud. A complete one-eighty from that day in Singapore. It just lurched forward and slowly made its way past the hills and mountains, cloaked in the haze that was the mists of Switzerland. Wrapped in a cloak of morning dew and fog, rather than fire and dust, it looked beautiful this time around, as it rested itself against the mountainside. Had I brought my camera, I would have gotten my second Pulitzer. Yeah, I sound like a cocky bitch, but I’ve got the royalty checks and the big gold coin on my shelf next to my Pikachu change jug, so I’d like to think I have the cred to back that statement up.

Now, how do you react to something like that? I was on vacation in Switzerland for God’s sakes, with uncomfortable hiking boots and two walking sticks in hand. I expected it all to just be pine trees and purple cows from those chocolate wrappers. Nothing weird, and certainly not it. But there it was, among the Alps without a care in the world.

For years, I’d imagined how I would react if I ever ran into Kagemura again. I thought I’d scream insults. That’d I’d raise hell as jet fighters bombed the shit out of it. Or that I’d at least flip it off, should it happen to look my way. But no. I did nothing. I just watched it for a while as it stumbled slowly around, pushing clouds aside by merely exhaling. After about ten minutes or so, it moved out of sight into the fog. I could hear its steps, as the tremors became gentler and gentler. Just like that, it went away. Then I went back to the hotel, listened to the other guests freak out about the giant prints across the landscape, had my tea, got a book from the book-swap shelf, and called it a day. Stayed there until they evacuated us all.

I’ve never told anyone else that story. Lucky you.

~

It stopped for a moment, as a thunderous rumble emitted from its throat (think a lion growl, but a billion of them at once), then tilted its head back to let out a deafening roar. And me? I took aim, clicked, and took the photo that defined that day and the rest of my life.

Seeing it that first time, my mind went blank. The words “what” and “the fuck” and “is that?”. A giant lizard-like thing waltzed right over me. One wrong step, and I’d have been jelly on the pavement. But as soon as it passed me, I could barely make it out anymore through the dust. The only part I got a good look at was its long, almost chameleon-like tail, which ripped through the buildings like a whip as it twisted. All I could make out was its silhouette, partially illuminated by the purple glow from its eyes. I’m not going to lie: it was beautiful. For a moment, I completely forgot how terrible everything was. There was just me and it, a skinny girl in shorts with a camera, and a creature unlike any the world had ever seen. It stopped for a moment, as a thunderous rumble emitted from its throat (think a lion growl, but a billion of them at once), then tilted its head back to let out a deafening roar. And me? I took aim, clicked, and took the photo that defined that day and the rest of my life. Like I said before: a split-second that neither I nor anyone else will ever forget.

You know what question I get asked the most? Whether I took any other shots of Kagemura later. Do they seriously think I went and ran after it? Do I look like Jimmy Olsen? It was thirty stories high, and that was back before it was full grown! No way did I risk my life like that.

But there was a second picture I took on that “fateful” day (as they call it in the history books). It was right after Kagemura made its way through the main street, right through those four buildings. And it was the only one I took with the intent for people to see it. No one did. Or if they did, no one cared. Everyone was in such awe of the best picture taken in the history of humanity, they neglected the picture I took of humanity.

It was a girl. She must have been around fifteen or sixteen, though she looked decades older. Her skin had been turned a smeared dark grey, with soot and ash clinging to her body. Her mouth was agape, gasping for air as strands of spittle clung to her chin. Then, without warning, a deep, bone-chilling wail escaped her. I stood there, frozen and coated in the same grey goop that rained from the sky, unsure if I should approach her gently or just grab her and try to find shelter. It was then I noticed she held something in her arms. At first, I thought it was a doll. But what teenager carries around a doll, especially in a disaster zone.

When it clicked for me, I nearly puked on my feet. I stood there, dry heaving bile and what little I had in my stomach out on the street, while this young girl wept for the charred body in her arms. When I regained my composure, I … I just stood there. I watched the woman cry with wild abandon. I could have approached her. I could have helped her. Shared my water or taken her by the hand and tried to find help with her in tow. But what did I do?

I raised the camera and snapped a photo. The second I took that day. And no, I have no idea why I took it, instead of anything else I could have done. But it was something real. Something human in a sea of unknown horror. And I approached it like the tourist I was.

A part of me likes to think I was going to help her and the child in her arms. Or do anything. Anything! And maybe I would have, if Kagemura hadn’t turned around.

A squadron of jets dived toward it. Missiles flew. More fire. The creature roared, snarling at the little men in the little metal birds. Like flies, they nimbly dodged its claws as they unloaded volley after volley right into it, so for a moment, I thought they might actually hurt it. But another purple light dashed through the dust, ripping those jets to shreds. It was then I saw that those beams came from its mouth. Its mouth! Do you have any idea how insane that looked at the time?

I turned to the woman, holding the body. She must have been about my age. The girl in her arms couldn’t have been more than ten. She screamed as Kagemura turned around and made its return down the street. As in right toward us. I looked at her, my legs frozen in place. She reached out at me. Then the second step hit the earth, which nearly knocked me off my feet. That’s when I snapped to. That’s when I did what I did.

I wish I knew their names.

~

I don’t have any copies of Dust in my home out for display. I don’t want that to be the centerpiece around which I’ve build my life. All the stuff I have for that one, the books and posters and trophies and accolades, are packed into storage boxes up in the attic. The only thing of that day I have out are these two photos on my nightstand. A photo of a young woman, cradling her little sister’s body, while the shadow of a woman falls on them. The second is a selfie of me, with ash caked into my hair and a stream of tears leaking down my cheeks. I took it after I made it to a rescue center to let my mom know I was okay. I’m alone in it.

I survived on my own. I’d ran for what felt like hours, alone. I dodged boulders of cinderblock and concrete and rebar, alone. I was even showered with empty bullet shell casings from a helicopter strike, all alone.

I could’ve taken her by the hand. I could have stayed with her. But I didn’t. No, I ran. And I became famous and rich for a photo that the smallest drone can take way better nowadays (which they have, as you can see on the Kagemura Tracker Stream). Yeah, good call Claire. Awesome choice.

My shrink tells me not to blame myself. But did she ever see Kagemura in the flesh? No. All of my exes, who just couldn’t deal with the moods and the night terrors, told me I couldn’t have done anything to help her, which is clearly bullshit meant to make me feel better. My agent always sends me clips of Robin Williams in Good Will Hunting (“It’s not your fault”) whenever I send him drunken e-mails at three in the morning about how awful I am for surviving, which in all honesty make me feel so much worse.

No matter what I do. No matter how much money I give away or pump into the Kagemura Survivor Fund or places it’s stomped through I visit to drum up aid, her face never goes away. Who was that in her arms? Did she love that child? Was it hers? A sibling? Or just a kid she tried to save, because that’s the kind of person I imagine her to be.

And if you’ll excuse me, I can’t breathe right now.

~

There are nights, the ones where I can’t sleep, that I just stare at my phone at the KTS. I see its face in full hi-def. Cracked, green-purple skin. Mad, almost insane eyes that look like those of a crazed crocodile, with rows of teeth like an angler fish. I still can’t believe this is the same thing I saw in that dust cloud. There’s no beauty to it. Just rage and pain, lashing out at the world as it marches wherever the winds take it. I’d say I know what that’s like, minus the lashing out and the laser breath. Sometimes I envy that part.

I hate Kagemura. I absolutely hate it. It has become everything that my life revolves around, whether I let it or not. But it’s also the only one who was there in that street. Would it remember me? No, that’s insane. I dunno; I’m rambling. Sorry.

I want to like myself. I did at one point. But now it’s gone. And I tell myself the Titan on the other side of the dust is to blame. But no. It was the cowardly twenty-two-year old who ran. No one forced her. She did that.

Now, when Kagemura shows up on screen, all I see anymore is a reflection, staring right back at me.

Claire Gainsborough, B.A., is a graduate of the School of Greater Design in Pasadena, CA. During her gap year, she survived the Day Zero event of the first Kagemura Ascendance in Singapore. After her trials, she became the most renowned photographer of our modern age, among the highlights being her works “The Titan Through the Dust,” “The Royal Wedding of the Prince and his Husband,” and the “Tezuka in Blue” series.

She currently lives in Colorado and can be contacted through her agent in New York.

Joachim Heijndermans writes, draws, and paints nearly every waking hour. Originally from the Netherlands, he’s been all over the world, boring people by spouting random trivia. His work has been featured in a number of publications, such as Ahoy Comics, Asymmetry Fiction, Gathering Storm Magazine, Hinnom Magazine, and The Gallery of Curiosities, and he’s currently in the midst of completing his first children’s book. You can check out his other work at www.joachimheijndermans.com, or follow him on Twitter: @jheijndermans.

Leigh’s professional title is “illustrator,” but that’s just a nice word for “monster-maker,” in this case. More information about them can be found at http://leighlegler.carbonmade.com/.

“The Titan Through the Dust” is © 2019 Joachim Heijndermans Art accompanying story is © 2019 Leigh Legler

Fiction: The Titan Through the Dust was originally published on Mad Scientist Journal

#Claire Gainsborough #Cryptozoology #Joachim Heijndermans #Kaiju #Leigh Legler

[harlowtm]

𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝟎𝟎𝟔: 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐘 // @gallaghertasks​

“ ---  i need someone who knows me to go in there and tell them i’m  NOT  in denial .  .  .  because i’m not. ” 

THERAPY.  THERAPY.  THERAPY. realistically this probably shouldn’t have been the first time lennon was seeing a professional.  she was an emotional person with high sensitivities and a low pain threshold.  she also had a vast need for attention and a strong,  overwhelming urge to give it. it seemed,  however,  that none of this would be discussed.  the therapist had their own script to follow.  it felt more like  DAMAGE CONTROL  than caring,  but lennon didn’t mind.  she made the job easy.  in the script that follows,  T  is in reference to the therapist speaking and  L  is in reference to Lennon. 

T:  did  you  know  either  of  the  victims  :   amelia  taylor  or  cassie  snyder  ? L:  i actually did not know either of them. T:  how  have  your  sleeping  and  eating  patterns  been  ? L:  i mean . . .  DIFFERENT  than prior to the incident,  but i’m not sure that it’s related.  it might be my own internal battles that began around the same time,  but i know that’s not what i’m here about,  so we can talk about that a different time. T:  do  you  find  yourself  thinking  about  the  event  even  when  you  don’t  want  to  ? L:  YES,  but my only reason for thinking about it is hearing other people talking about it.  i mean i guess i think about the people i care about here and i care if they were affected by the deaths,  AND  i think about how i couldn’t imagine what i would do if it was them.  T:  what  are  the  most  frequent  images ?  L:  my loved ones being found,  getting that call,  or having someone tell me the news . . .  what that would feel like,  what kind of break down i would have,  if i would recover,  and  SOMETIMES  as screwed up as it is,  i picture myself in their shoes.  partially because i don’t know the girls,  so i don’t know if they deserved it,  not that anyone deserves that,  but i just mean,  that i sometimes wonder if i deserve that.  if i deserve to be that person that was found.  i mean,  i try really hard to be a  GOOD  person,  i just feel like i’ve been falling short lately,  so that’s me being hard on myself.  i also kind of wonder if anyone would  CARE  if it were me . . .  if  HE  would care . . .  if  SHE  would be as distraught.  [ laughs nervously ]  i’m rambling,  let’s move on.  T:  do  you  avoid  thinking  or  talking  about  the  event ?  L:  ummm . . . yeah.  i do,  actually.  i thought i was just doing things to try and help other people keep from thinking about it,  but i guess regardless of my motive or intent,  that still translates to  ME  not thinking about or talking about the event;  avoiding it.  yeah. T:   do  you  avoid  going  places  or  being  in  situations  that  remind  you  of  the  event ?  if  yes  ,   what  are  these  places  ? L:  i avoid certain places that remind me of certain situations,  it’s just not this one.  i mean i haven’t been to the scene of the crime to see if it’s been cleared because the last time i happened to pass by there it was roped off, but i know what it’s like to avoid things on  PURPOSE  and this is not that.  T:  do  you  have  nightmares  about   the  event  ?   if  yes  ,   please  describe  these  nightmares  to  the  best  of  your  ability  .   L:  uhhhh,  yeah,  i guess.  i see a an unclear version of where the murders happen,  i see a body covered with a white sheet,  and then i’m getting closer and closer and closer and it feels like a never-ending hallway that keeps stretching.  i never actually make it to the body.  i start going faster and faster,  but running in heels in  GRASS  is nearly impossible even in a dream,  so i can only go so fast,  and it’s not fast enough and . . . sometimes it looks like someone’s about to lift the sheet,  like i see a hand kind of cross the frame and reach for it,  but i always wake up before that.  isn’t that a little bit crazy ?  it’s really bizarre.  it’s a crazy dream.  T:  do  you  feel  easily  startled  or  anxious  ?  give  examples   L:  no,  not really.  not that i can think of,  no. T:  do  you  worry  about  being  harmed  or  feel  “on guard” ?  give  examples  .   L:  like  ---  physically ?  oh,  in general.  i guess not.  i mean i scare easy,  but that’s just a character flaw.  scary movies and i don’t get along. T:  do  you  feel  detached  or  “numb”  ?  how  so  ?  L:  i’m so overly empathetic,  and i feel everything very deeply,  all of the time,  it’s  LITERALLY IMPOSSIBLE  for me to do that even if i wanted to. T:  do  you  feel  shame  or  guilt  about  the  event  or  about  problems  related  to  the  event ? L:  when i see the grief everyone is going through,  it makes my own personal grief outside of this situation feel really  SMALL  and that makes me feel ashamed and guilty,  but i guess it’s like that saying goes . . . just because the person next to you is in a body cast doesn’t mean your broken arm doesn’t hurt.  or something like that. T:  what  do  you  think  is  causing  this  shame  or  guilt ?   L:  outside of being overly empathetic,  i think i often find it easy to blame myself.  it’s something i have to talk myself out of often.  i’m just so used to feeling like i have to be the care taker,  or like,  i am a means to an end,  fulfilling a role for someone else,  and i’m  NOT.  i don’t consider myself an insecure person,  but i think that the shame and guilt are being caused by the fact that someone  HAS  brought up insecurities within me recently and made me feel like a fuck up,  like i’m less than . . . it sucks.  99.9% of the time i’m pretty certain that i’m great.  self - love and all that is very important to me.  you gotta practice what you preach,  y’know ? T:  do  you  find  that  you  act  irritable  or  angry  ?   L:  i’m  EMOTIONAL,  but i wouldn’t say either of those two things come up.  maybe occasional anger wiith myself.   T:  in  what  ways  ?   L:  i honestly don’t even know.  that’s pretty much where my insight starts and ends on that matter,  honestly. T:  do  you  act  oppositional  ,  act  out  sexually  ,  or  abuse  alcohol  or  drugs ? L:  ummm,  no ?  i feel like a lot of people have recently and i hang out with people,  so by pure association,  i guess so.  otherwise i wouldn’t say that anything has changed about my behavior or alcohol intake, etc.  if anything,  i’ve been feeling  LESS  sexual lately,  so if you’ve got a pill for that,  definitely hook a girl up.  ---  i’m kidding.  i’m  ABSOLUTELY  kidding.  okay. 

PTSD SCREENING:

You scored a total of  10

People who've scored similarly to you on this quiz for post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) may sometimes qualify for the diagnosis of PTSD. When symptoms of PTSD are in this range, they may sometimes impact a person's everyday life, making normal activities -- like work or school -- more challenging than for others. Keeping one's focus and concentration on the task at hand can sometimes be difficult for people who've scored similarly to this.

T:  how do you feel about your results ? L:  i mean . . .  i don’t agree,  personally.  i know you’re the professional,  so chime in any time and tell me about my trauma,  but i don’t  FEEL  like i’m traumatized.  i don’t know.  like,  i’m pretty okay.  that might be screwed up considering what everyone else is going through,  but it’s the truth.  and i’m happy to be there for them throughout this trauma-inducing time. 

GRIEF QUIZ:

You scored a total of  23

People who have scored similarly to you have sometimes had complicated grief. Complicated grief is characterized by a preoccupation with thoughts of the deceased or lost loved one, searching and yearning for the deceased or lost loved one, disbelief about the death or loss, and having difficulty accepting the death or loss.

T:  how do you feel about these results ? L:  so like i said,  i didn’t know the people who died . . .  but the questions just ask about people leaving,  so sure,  i’ve had people left,  i’ve left people,  etc.  so i answered based on those things.  but for example,  one of the questions asked how often i see the person who left stand in front of me.  i’m  NOT  seeing dead people,  there’s no sixth sense thing going on,  BUT  the person who left me came back into my life recently,  so i literally,  physically,  occasionally seem him standing there and i answered accordingly.  does that make sense ?  it’s been a long time.  i’ve come to terms with my grief.  i’ve cried,  i’ve wallowed,  i’ve healed,  i’ve moved on.  mostly.  truly. 

#gallagher:task #task:006 #tasks

[whumphoarder]

Face God and Walk Backwards Into Hell

Summary: Peter is lactose intolerant—and arguably masochistic—and this somehow becomes Tony’s personal cross to bear.

(In the same universe as Spider-Man’s Very Mundane Kryptonite, but the stories can be read independently) 

Word count: 1,763

Genre: Fluffy illness, humor, sickfic

Link to read on A03

After initially finding out that the kid was lactose intolerant, Tony started doing everything in his power to help Peter avoid dairy. He stocked three kinds of plant-based milks at the compound—soy, almond, and cashew. If he was ordering pizza for team training nights, he would always make sure to have non-dairy pasta and salad options on the side. Chips and pretzels were served with hummus or bean dips rather than sour cream based ones, and Tony even tried out a vegan cheese version of his mother’s beloved lasagna recipe.

All these precautions would have likely been very effective, if only Peter wasn’t such a little shit.

At first, Tony assumed the kid just made a mistake. That was what he figured when he shuffled into the kitchen at one a.m. on a training weekend to discover the teenager standing with his back to the entrance, rifling through his cabinets.

Tony stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest in amusement. “Looking for something?”

Peter startled and spun around, eyes wide. “Whoa, what are you doing up, Mr. Stark?”

“Insomnia’s a bitch,” Tony scoffed. “But I could ask the same about you. Shouldn’t you be wiped from your training session with Cap earlier?”

Peter’s stomach growled loudly in response, causing his unusually pale cheeks to flush slightly.

Tony raised his eyebrows. “Are you hungry? If you need a snack, try the fridge.”

With a small groan, Peter snaked an arm around his middle. “Uh, no thanks,” he said with a grimace. “I’m not feeling so great, actually.”

“Stomach ache?” Tony guessed.

Peter looked embarrassed, but nodded anyway. “I didn’t mean to bother you, I just was seeing if you had anything down here I could take for it.”

“You mean like Pepto, or…?” Tony asked with a frown.

Peter shook his head. “That doesn’t usually work very well. May has these like, enzyme pill things that sometimes help...?” he said hopefully.

Tony quirked his head in thought. “Pepper might have something,” he mused. “She’s fully on the herbal supplement bandwagon.” He crossed the kitchen over to a drawer next to the fridge and opened it to reveal a few dozen small bottles.

With some assistance from FRIDAY, he quickly identified the most-likely-to-be-helpful candidate—some kind of natural probiotic—and dosed out two pills for the kid.

“Thanks,” Peter muttered before knocking them back with some water. “Ugh. I’m never eating ice cream again,” he moaned.

Tony’s forehead wrinkled up in confusion. “When did you get ice cream?”

Peter gave him a pained smile. “Uh… after training? Clint took me out—he said someone should celebrate the fact that I laid out Cap twice.”

“Yeah, I thought so too,” Tony said with a huff. “Which is why I served everyone those vegan eclairs that I special ordered because, you know”—he shot Peter a pointed look—“they don’t have dairy.”

“He, uh, he said someone should celebrate it with a real dessert,” Peter mumbled.

“I’m hurt, Pete,” Tony mocked.

Peter’s gaze dropped to his feet. “If it makes you feel any better, I got Stark Raving Hazelnut.”

“Why would it make me feel better to have my name attached to your gastrointestinal distress?” Tony asked sarcastically.

Peter huffed out a quick laugh. “Sorry.” Suddenly he winced and pressed a hand to his stomach. “Ah. Cramp.”

“It’s alright, kid,” Tony scoffed. “I think you’re being punished enough.”

X

At the next Avengers team dinner, Tony stood in the buffet line behind Peter, watching in horror as the teenager covered his pasta in Alfredo sauce. “What the hell, Peter. I got the marinara one especially for you.”

“I had some of that already and it was great, Mr. Stark!” Peter said earnestly. “It’s just been like, forever since I had actual alfredo sauce.”

Tony blinked at him. “Right...” he said slowly “...That would be because you’re allergic to it.”

“Technically it’s not an allergy,” Peter argued, sprinkling parmesan on top of his Fettuccine Alfredo. “An allergy would require an autoimmune response. We learned that in freshman year bio.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Fine, intolerance, whatever. You’re still gonna get sick.”

“I’ll be fine if I only have a little bit.”

X

A mere thirty minutes later, Tony was having déjà vu.

“Peter, I swear to God…” he began.

Peter gave him a sheepish grin. “Okay, I know what you’re gonna say, but—”

Tony spread his arms out dramatically. “There is literally half the dessert table here full of things you can eat, and yet you pick the cheesecake? Why?” he demanded.

Peter gave him an incredulous look. “Because it’s cheesecake, Mr. Stark,” he answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Tony scoffed, “Yeah, key word there, cheese.”

Peter gazed longingly at the towering fluffy white dessert balanced on the serving spatula in his hand. “But it’s so good.”

Tony ran an exasperated hand over his face. “Kid, think this through. I’m begging you.”

Peter let out a resigned sigh as he let the piece of cheesecake tip onto his waiting plate. “I have. I’m sorry.”

Tony raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, it’s your funeral. But I don’t wanna hear about it later.”

“You won’t—I promise,” Peter assured. He picked up a fork, and, making eye-contact with Tony the whole time, brought a bite to his lips. “But I gotta do it, Mr. Stark.”

X

A few hours after dinner, Tony spied Peter emerging from the restroom, pale and sweating, arms wrapped around his obviously cramping stomach.

“Uuugh Mr. Staark…” Peter whined upon seeing his mentor. He was making a pouting face, but the tiniest hint of a smile playing at his lips. “My tummy huurrts...”

“I’m sure it does, kid.” With a snort of amusement, Tony held out a bottle of water to the teen, who took it gratefully. “Was it at least worth it?”

Peter thought for a moment as he sipped the water. “Almost,” he finally decided. He hummed to himself. “Now if the cheesecake had had whipped cream on it…”

Tony let out a long sigh. “Why? Why do you do this to yourself?” he implored.

Peter locked eyes with his mentor. “Mr. Stark,” he said solemnly, “some nights you just gotta face God and walk backwards into Hell.”

“NO YOU FUCKING DON’T, PETER!”

X

Tony was just finishing some updates on DUM-E when FRIDAY alerted him to the fact that Thor was urgently approaching the workshop doors. Given he wasn’t a usual visitor, Tony looked up curiously.

“Stark, you must come quickly!” Thor’s voice boomed. “The Falcon and young Man of Spiders seem to have ingested some kind of poison.”

Tony’s heart dropped. “What?” Peter and Sam had been poisoned? “How?” he asked sharply. He dropped his tools on the workbench and immediately hurried toward the door. “What kind of poison?”

“I am not certain,” Thor replied. The two men strode quickly down the corridor. “But it appears only to affect mortal men as I myself have consumed the same beverage and yet I remain unscathed.”

“Did you call in a med team?” Tony demanded.

“A healer?” Thor questioned. “Nay, but Banner had arrived just as I left to seek you.”

Tony instantly breathed out a sigh of relief. Sure, Bruce may not be an actual medical doctor, but his seven PhDs are certainly worth something. “Okay, good. What symptoms are we talking about here? When did this start?”

“It came on about an hour after consuming the beverage. They both appear to be in a fair amount of pain, and their bodies seem to be working to expel the contaminant,” Thor reported. “There is a foul odor about them as well, as though something inside is dying.”

“Jesus…” Tony swore, breaking into a jog for the rest of the way to the common area.

When he arrived, the scene wasn’t quite the picture of imminent peril that Thor had painted for him. On one couch, Sam was laying flat on his back, one arm hugging a pillow to his stomach while the other arm was extended upward so that his forearm rested over his eyes. On the couch next to him, Peter was half sprawled out, half propped up against the cushions so he could sip from a can of Sprite. He looked a little green.

Bruce, looking calm as ever, was lining a small trash can next to Peter with a fresh plastic bag.

“What’s going on here?” Tony demanded, stepping into the room. “Thor tells me they’ve been poisoned.”

Bruce let out a quick snort of laughter. “You could say that. Self-inflicted, but sure.”

“Excuse me?” Tony raised his eyebrows.

“Mr. Staaark…” Peter moaned from the sofa. “Did you know there’s no such thing as a milkshake on Asgard?”

Tony just blinked at him.

“I mean, imagine going your whole life without ever tasting a milkshake,” Peter went on, his tone just bordering on a whine.

“That’s just not right, man,” Sam groaned in agreement.

Tony glanced at the three, large, empty tumblers on the table nearby, their insides coated in what appeared to be milkshake residue. He looked back over his shoulder to the kitchen area and spied a blender sitting out on the counter.

“I can’t believe I’m seeing this,” Tony deadpanned. He shot Sam a glare. “And now you too?” he accused.

“Blame genetics,” Sam grumbled. “Did you know seventy-four percent of African Americans are lactose intolerant?”

“Rhodey isn’t,” Tony quipped back.

“Well hooray for Rhodey then,” Sam muttered irritably into his arm. “Lucky bastard.”

“I do not understand,” Thor spoke up, frowning in confusion. “Have these men been poisoned or not?”

“Yes,” Peter groaned, clutching his stomach.

Tony rolled his eyes at the dramatic kid. “It’s… complicated,” he replied to Thor. “They’ll live, and with any luck, they’ll be deterred from future idiotic behavior for about a week. Or five days if I order pizza on Friday.”

“This was about justice for the Prince of Asgard,” Peter mumbled. “We die like men.”

“Men with tummy aches,” Tony pointed out.

Eyes still covered by his arm, Sam held up his middle finger. “We die like lactose intolerant men,” he amended.

With a hum of agreement, Peter promptly leaned over and vomited into the trash can.

As Bruce moved in to rub Peter’s back while he heaved, and Sam got up to make another trip to the bathroom, Tony threw his hands up in the air and turned on his heels.

“That’s it,” he muttered as he walked out. “I have officially given up.

Read Part 3 of the Lactose Intolerant Peter series

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