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#a lot of my friends Scattered across the country after college and i was scared that i'd have trouble making friends in the Real World
jilliancares · 3 months
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I had no clue you had a book but I just found out and I missed your writing so I made my library buy it. Hopefully others will get to pick it up when I’m done with it. I hope life has been treating you well 🤗
woah!!!! that is so sweet, i had no idea you that was even something you could do! i really hope you enjoy it, thank you so much!!! and i've been really great, i hope you are too :) ♡
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ddaeng-danvers · 3 years
Text
edge of desire
pairing: mark lee x reader
genre: fluff, nonidol/college!au
summary: in which mark lee meets (and impresses) your family at thanksgiving
warnings: none
word count: 1076
a/n: i wrote this on a complete whim bc the holidays make me vv happy. for context i was imagining mark and y/n went to college in the vancouver area and y/n lives in the american northeast, happy thanksgiving everyone!!
masterlist
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You woke up to the soft feeling of Mark’s lips on your forehead as the plane began its descent. You rubbed your eyes open and clumsily gathered your things. 
“C’mon, we’re landing soon, you gotta get strapped in,” Mark whispered. He helped you finish gathering your things before strapping himself in to prepare for the plane’s landing. He looked pretty tired himself, like he’d also just woken up from a nap. He looked cozy, his black hair curly and matted from sleeping against the wall. He was wearing a black crewneck with sweats. You were dressed similarly for a day of travel. 
You and Mark met your freshman year of college, and started dating the following summer after tagging along on a vacation with a mutual friend. Now your senior year, two years into your relationship, you finally decided it was time for him to meet your family over the holidays. You’d seen his family several times over other breaks since he lived close to where you attended college, but your family lived across the country, so this would be his first time meeting them. 
After landing, you and Mark sleepily made your way through the airport to baggage claim, which was located just by the main doors. So every time someone left a blast of cold air made its way into the building. You shivered slightly as you reached to pull your phone out of your bag and let your family know you’d landed safely. Your mom quickly texted you back saying that she would pick you up at the train station. You then tiredly leaned against Mark’s shoulder, waiting for your bags.
“Tired?” he asks. You nod into his arm and close your eyes. 
“I didn’t sleep very well on the plane.” Mark leans down and kisses the top of your head once again. 
“You can sleep as soon as we get on the train. It shouldn’t be much longer.” A few seconds later, the bags from your flight began moving around the belt. Mark quickly spotted yours and grabbed them. You sent a quick message to your mom, telling her you were on the way. 
You led the way through the airport to the shuttle for the train station, Mark followed closely behind you. Your dad commuted from this station for his entire career, so you knew your way around fairly well. After boarding the train that commutes out of the city. You let yourself lay your head against Mark’s shoulder once again. 
“I just realized that if you fall asleep I won’t know which station to get off at.” Mark laughs. You contain yourself from laughing as well. 
“It’s okay, I can stay awake until then. It’s not that far of a ride.” Mark nods as he leans into his bag and pulls out his headphones. He offers you the one on the right before plugging them in and shuffling one of your playlists. You look out the window as Edge of Desire begins to play. 
You arrived at your local station about half an hour later. You wandered around the parking lot for a moment before spotting your parent’s car. Your mom leaves out of the driver’s side and greets you with a hug. Your dad follows out of the passenger side. You can see Mark give him a handshake in your peripheral vision.
The ride home was short as well, as your parents were excited to finally meet Mark, since you spoke about him so highly. He held your hand the whole ride home, squeezing it softly on occasion. Once you arrived home, your siblings (and pets) were eager to meet Mark as well. After a few minutes of greetings, hugs, and handshakes, you and Mark were allowed to settle in to your room, where you would be staying. 
“So this is where the magic happens, huh?” Mark chuckles. 
“What, my childhood bedroom?” You laugh back, giving Mark a quick kiss on the cheek. “I do want to take a nap though, I’m beat.” Mark lays down next to you, after putting his glasses down on the nightstand. 
“Consider it naptime.”
---
It was your family’s turn to host Thanksgiving this year, so Mark was truly meeting your entire family on this visit. Surprisingly, he wasn’t too nervous. If anything, he was excited to meet the people you held so near to your heart. 
Your grandparents were the first to arrive, and you and Mark were some of the first to meet them at the door. You hugged them excitedly, since it had been awhile since you’d seen them last. Mark quickly offered to take the stuffing out of her hands, to which she politely accepted.
“Grandma, Grandpa, this is Mark.” Mark nodded happily at them as they made their way into the foyer. 
“We’ve heard all about you, Mark. It’s great to finally meet you.” Mark smiles and looks at you with a questioning look. You can only blush back at him. 
Mark seemed to impress every member of your family in one way or another over the course of the day. He quickly impressed your younger cousins when he played the guitar for them. He impressed your mom and grandma after he offered to help clean after dinner. He impressed your dad after talking about his favorite movies (particularly Star Wars).
The day ended with your family scattered across the first floor of your house. Some were drinking cups of coffee in the kitchen picking at the remaining pie. Some were on various couches, taking much needed post-dinner naps. You and Mark were sat in the corner of the family room, watching other members of your family put up the Christmas tree, placing various sentimental ornaments on the branches. Mark managed to find a guitar in your basement, which he’s now lightly strumming as he tries to think of what song to play. 
“What should I play, Y/N?” Mark asked. You turned your vision away from the tree decorating. 
“Edge of Desire.” You reply, softly. Placing a light kiss on his shoulder. 
“Edge of Desire it is.” Mark responds. He lightly strums the chords, and quietly sings, for only you to hear.
Don't say a word, just come over and lie here with me
'Cause I'm just about to set fire to everything I see
I want you so bad I'll go back on the things I believe
There I just said it, I'm scared you'll forget about me
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Text
a journal entry
[tw: talk of suicide, religious trauma, big sad feelings]
one of the worst times of my life was a month after coming out the second time. I was 23 years old, had lived in my hometown with my parents for a year after college before moving for grad school. I was all alone in a big city, brand new culture, friends scattered around, partner all the way across the country. I was in school for therapy and doing a lot of big emotional work I'd never known how to do before, and I was about six months on T. I hadn't seen my parents in seven. I built up this coming-out for months, dreading and anticipating.
I've written before about how badly it went. I've never had my parents so deeply disappointed in me. I've written as well about Pastor Kretzschmar and the phone calls I endured. The amount of religious trauma sludge that was being unearthed in me. so many things I thought I'd gotten over.
I'm 23, my parents hate me, my youth pastor has shattered my religion, and I had to dissect myself in writing for a professor. The Tuesday of finals week I catch a sore throat. on Wednesday I turn in my final paper. on Thursday I can barely stand up.
I've been terribly sick a handful of times. MRSA and sepsis were bad, but I was 13 and had no idea how close I was to dying, so it didn't seem that bad going through it. pneumonia was more frustrating than anything-- can't lay down, can't breathe, can't stop coughing, can't go to school, can't go home from this stupid hospital, can't stop having fever dreams about snakes and panic attacks that send the nurses rushing in to check my heart monitors.
COVID was bad: the fatigue, the pain, the aches, the elephant on my chest and feathers in my lungs, and the headache that truly felt like being crushed. the feverish hallucinations, the endless trembling. the realization that i was trapped, alone, in a house with nobody who loved me within eight hundred miles and no way to pay my medical bills and just. the fear. the overwhelming fear and loneliness of it all.
catching COVID encapsulated how i felt in the aftermath of my coming out. hurt. gutted. on fire. so fucking scared. angry.
a decade ago I started putting the pieces together-- a plethora of things I knew was wrong with me, and one I finally found the words for-- my sexuality.
I remember being fifteen and keeping myself up at night trying to pray and just sobbing. sobbing because it didn't make sense and nobody would answer my questions and i was too terrified for confession and i didn't understand how i could try to hard and still be such a total and utter failure. how i could hurt everyone so bad. how i wasn't even trying to do anything.
seventeen was bad because my worst fears started manifesting. i was terrible. i was thoughtless. i was too emotional and too sensitive and somehow also too quiet and too stoic and too cold. my grandmother died. my other grandmother tried to kill herself again. she'd tried a few times in my childhood, but this was the first time she was hospitalized for it. we hated each other-- her and i-- and it broke my mom's heart that i wasn't more upset by what was happening. even though I'd internalized my role of being quiet and emotionless and not making it worse for anyone.
all of that, and i figure it can't get worse, so two months later i come out. my mother is scared, furious, loud and thundering and crying constantly. and i knew i was terrible, but seeing it is different.
when i came out again nearly seven years later, my mother was angry but my father was emotional. he started planning my funeral. i had finally done something bad enough for them to give up on me, and that manifestation slaughtered me.
I'm writing this to purge whatever sad and angry thing is trying to crawl out of my throat. I've been praying again, and involved with a church, and it's awoken someone furious and heartbroken inside of me. the kid is eleven- fifteen- seventeen and scared and shaking and pissed as hell, and I want to take her them by the hands and squeeze and tell them it's going to be okay. tell them to lash out and hit something. tell them we figure it out, but keeping it all in our gut only makes us sicker.
I've been unwell a million times. childhood me was sensitive and anxious and terrible. she didn't know how to exist in the world, and i love my parents for doing their best, but i wish they'd noticed her reading their parenting books to try and figure out what was wrong with her. i wish they'd asked her what she thought about god, found out the existentials of their religion gave her stomach aches. wish they'd asked an expert why she cried so much.
I wanted to kill myself in high school. I shook myself out of panic attacks before work and i talked my online friends down from the edge every night at 11pm before going out to drive my mom and linda home from the bar.
I didn't want to kill myself in college, but i thought about it a lot. i had an index card folded up in my wallet that i promised a nice lady named Rachel I would look at any time the thoughts got too loud. i felt the moods wash through my like waves, waited for them like clockwork, every few months there they were again. I hurt myself. I let people hurt me, and not just in ways that were healthy and fun. I was so scared of myself and couldn't even begin to see a future that made sense, a future that felt good, couldn't see anything but heavy awful dread.
twenty-five and things are better, but sometimes i feel worse. the more makes sense, the less i understand. the more i find places that hurt, the more i find people to blame, the more i understand even more and put that blame away. i find things that hurt in me and i dig my thumb in like a bruise.
another five years and i pray i'm comfortable, pray i've dug out all the tragic rotten parts of myself and set them out to dry, let them wither in the sun and turn to jerky, let the crows swoop down and carry some away, scoop up others and drop them into my pocket, carry them around to remember but not to hurt.
this has gone off the rails. i think i feel better now. in case anyone's wondering, i haven't wanted to kill myself since march 2020 (ironically). i haven't had an unprompted panic attack since october 2021. i cried half an hour ago, but that's kind of a victory too.
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crystalstar8 · 3 years
Text
Knights of the Night (ch.3)
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Chapter 3
Ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4, ch 5
https://archiveofourown.org/works/29139240/chapters/71536491
pairing: Jungkook x oc
genre: vampire au, college au, twilight, romance
word count: 1,905
warnings: blood (obviously), kidnapping, child kidnapping, needles, France
notes: vampires, vampire au, college, college au, so many twilight references, blood, needles, kidnapping, children, homelessness, dance, ballet, flashbacks, romance, slow burn, probably no smut, idk yet tho, France, French things, attempted genocide, inaccurate French history, bisexual main character, @strawberriewithchocolate-blog @mozy-j  @daechwitad-2
summary: Catalina starts college in a small town all the way across the country. She doesn’t know anyone and isn’t exactly looking for friends. She just wants to focus on dance. But when she meets fellow dance major, Jimin, and adventurous, fellow freshman, Jungkook, Catalina ends up discovering a whole new side to the small college town; one that is dangerous but oh so enticing...
               The following day found Catalina following Jungkook to the campus library. They had gotten their tests back in French class that day and they both got Ds. Their professor set them up with a tutor, whom they were on the way to meet.
               “I can’t believe we got Ds,” said Catalina. “We studied!”
               “Yeah! We totally studied and it didn’t help us at all,” said Jungkook. Catalina thought back on their study session at her apartment; French textbooks open, bottles of wine scattered about, two full glasses, and the Twilight movies unironically playing on Catalina’s laptop.
               “Yeah we totally studied!” she said.
               The campus library was a huge, old building with towering bookshelves and dark wood furniture. They went down one of the halls where there were tables and chairs set up between the aisles. At the first table was a ridiculously handsome man, who stood up when he spotted them.
               “Well, well, well,” he said. “Look who’s failing his class already in the first week.”
               Jungkook frowned and stopped in his tracks. “You’re our tutor?”
               “Hey! Why are you saying it like that? You should be more like, ‘Oh, Jin! Thank goodness you’re helping me pass my French class, how can I ever repay you?’”
               “I’m assuming you guys…know each other?” said Catalina.
               Jungkook sighed and said, “Catalina, this is Jin. As you can see he’s very old and his dementia is setting in, making him talk nonsense-“
               Jin rounded the table and swatted at Jungkook, yelling, “Hey! I’m tutoring you out of the kindness of my heart and this is what I get?”
               A librarian stuck her head around the corner and shushed them angrily. Jin apologized and gestured to the two chairs across from his.
               “Yeah, I’ve known Jungkook since he was a child,” said Jin. “I practically raised him.”
               “He used to live next door. He babysat me and my brother like, two times,” said Jungkook.
               “So, are you two dating?” asked Jin. “Because I have some wonderful childhood stories to tell.”
               Catalina laughed and said, “We’re not dating, but I’d love to hear them.”
               “Jin,” said Jungkook. “Jin.”
               “What?”
               “I’ll kill you.”
               Jin laughed for several seconds, then sobered up in an instant. “Anyway, let’s get to work.”
               He flipped the French textbook open and began.
               “So, what are you guys having trouble with?” he asked. “Let’s see your tests.”
                 Catalina left the tutoring session feeling a bit better about her French class. As they walked out of the library, Jungkook said, “So, I’m having a party at my house tonight and you’re invited. My parents are out of town for this healthcare conference thing so everyone’s gonna be there. It’s gonna be awesome.”
               “And what do you mean by ‘everyone’?” asked Catalina. She’s always kind of wanted to go to one of those cliché house parties where a bunch of unwanted guests show up and the host is freaking out about their parents’ china cabinet or whatever. Her friends back home were pretty boring, so she never got the party experience.
               “I mean, like, everyone. Like, a bunch of people from my classes and from high school and stuff,” said Jungkook.
               “Okay, I’ll go. It sounds fun,” said Catalina. “Do you think a lot of people will show up despite the people going missing in the neighboring town?”
               “I mean, it’s not happening in this town so…” Jungkook shrugged.
               “Yeah, it’s probably fine,” said Catalina. “Anyway, I’ll come over late tonight. I have homework I need to finish.”
               “It’s okay, the party doesn’t start until late anyway, if you know what I mean,” Jungkook said with a wink. “It’s gonna be lit.”
               “I’ll see you later JK,” Catalina said, laughing. The two of them parted ways, Catalina wondering with trepidation, and also excitement, what the party was going to be like.
                 The party, as it turned out, was not lit. Catalina arrived around ten, after getting most of her homework done with minimal procrastination. There was only one car in front of the house besides Jungkook’s, and no lights on inside. Catalina texted him to make sure everything was alright. He answered, telling her to come to the back yard.
               The backyard was small, a tall wooden fence along the back separating it from the woods. In the middle of the yard were two people sitting in lawn chairs around a bonfire. Jungkook stood up and waved.
               “Hey, you made it!” said Jungkook. He gestured to the bonfire and said, “I told you it’d be lit.”
               Catalina cringed.
               “I’m sorry, that was terrible. I can’t believe I just said that,” he said.
               “I think Jin is getting to you,” said the other person sitting at the fire. Catalina realized that it was Jimin.
               “Jimin! I didn’t know you’d be here!” said Catalina. Jimin stood up and they hugged. “I didn’t know you guys knew each other.”
               “Yeah, we grew up together,” said Jimin.
               “Does everyone in this town know each other?” asked Catalina.
               “I mean…” Jimin started.
               “Kind of,” said Jungkook, setting up a chair for her. They all sat down. “Not really, but this town is pretty small. There’s only one high school so…”
               “I see,” said Catalina. “So, what happened to the party? I imagined like, a big house party with a bunch of people we don’t know, getting drunk and tossing vases around like footballs.”
               Jimin laughed so hard he almost fell off his chair.
               “What? Did you get that from Mean Girls?” asked Jungkook. Catalina nodded. “I don’t know, I guess everyone is “scared” of the “serial killer”, or whatever. They don’t know what they’re missing, because I plan on sharing some great horror stories around the bonfire tonight.”
               “Jungkook, I just want you to know how irresponsible this is!”
               Jin came into the backyard and stood there with his hands on his hips. Another man joined him, equally as handsome. This man was blonde, built, and wore a bomber jacket with patches all over it.
               “There is a serial killer on the loose and you’re throwing a party!” said Jin.
               “Well, you showed up so you’re just as bad. And you brought your boyfriend,” said Jungkook.
               “We are not dating and I am just here to tell you that you should end this right now. We are going to get kidnapped,” said Jin.
               “Catalina, this is Jimmy K, the local bad boy who is all of a sudden mysteriously hanging out with Jin all the time now,” said Jungkook.
               “Local bad boy, I love it,” said Jimmy K. He held out a hand to Catalina to shake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said with a wink.
               “Oh,” Catalina blushed, caught off guard. “It’s nice to meet you too.”
               Soon, they were all sitting around the bonfire listening to Jungkook begin his scary story.
               “This is something that happened to me when I was kid, and I never told anyone this before, because I was afraid no one would believe me. When I was nine, my brother and I were staying at our aunt’s house in the mountains while our parents were out of town on a relief mission. One day, I went out to explore the woods and do some climbing. I found a big rocky crag, which I climbed, hoping I’d end up at the top of the mountain. It wasn’t the top of the mountain by far, but I did find something else: a mossy trail leading deep into the woods,” Jungkook said, lowering his voice dramatically.
               “When is this supposed to get scary?” asked Jin.
               “Shut up. So I followed the trail. The sun was beginning to set and I knew I needed to head back to my aunt’s house soon, but I needed to see where the trail led to. I wasn’t disappointed. The trail opened up to an old cobblestone driveway, and at the end of the driveway was a huge house. It was old, one of those gothic Victorian houses, all dark brick and carved wood. I could see the sky from the clearing, which told me I had about an hour before it fully got dark. I went to the front door anyway. It was unlocked, so I went inside. There were cobwebs everywhere and sheets over furniture, a real classic haunted house, but I wasn’t afraid, because I knew ghosts weren’t real. So, I went deeper into the house. All of a sudden, the front door slammed shut behind me. I was thrown into darkness. Then I heard a voice somewhere in the house say, ‘Don’t you know trespassers get eaten, little boy?’ I was terrified, so I turned around and tried to open the door, but it wouldn’t budge. The voice was laughing. Finally, the door opened and I ran from the house as fast as I could. I ran back through the trail, climbed back down the rocks and ran. It was dark now and my lungs were burning. Eventually, I made it back to my aunt’s house. She was waiting outside for me, angry. She said, “dammit Jungkook! I told you not to go too far in these woods. There’s monsters out there who eat reckless little boys like you!’
               “And that’s the story of how I found out ghosts are real,” Jungkook finished.
               “That was more like listening to a trauma story than a scary story,” said Jimin. Jungkook took his shoe off and threw it at Jimin, who actually fell off his chair laughing this time.
               “I thought it was a good story,” said Jimmy K, who was listening with interest.
               “Thank you,” said Jungkook.
               “That didn’t actually happen to you, did it?” asked Catalina.
               “Yeah, it did. Minus the cobwebs, sheets, and locked door. But my aunt definitely did say that when I got back. Actually, I remember the real life house being really pretty and not dark, which made me realize that I had just broken into someone’s house. That’s when I ran away. So, who’s next?” said Jungkook.
                 Catalina was running again. They were right behind her. Her heart was pounding in her aching chest as her bare feet thudded against the forest trail. It was close, just a little farther and she’d be safe. The footsteps behind her were getting closer. They were heavy and fast, much stronger than she was. Finally, the house came into view and she threw the front door open. She tried closing it behind her, but the door was too small for the frame and it wouldn’t close all the way. She could feel tears pricking at her eyes. They were going to catch her and she couldn’t do anything about it… Catalina turned around and ran deeper into the house. As she rounded the corner, she found herself in a den, running right into someone. But she wasn’t afraid of this person. She knew she was finally safe here.
“They can’t get you here,” the man said as he held her against his broad chest. She looked up at him. He smiled down with his dimples and perfect teeth. She felt herself melt against him.
But it didn’t last long. Soon, he disappeared and the fire went out in the fireplace, leaving the room in cold darkness. An unfamiliar voice chuckled, the laughter bouncing off the walls to taunt her.
“Don’t you know trespassers get eaten, little girl?”
Catalina jolted awake that morning, a scream lodged in her throat.
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penabrams · 4 years
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𝙿𝙴𝙽𝙴𝙻𝙾𝙿𝙴  𝙰𝙱𝚁𝙰𝙼𝚂  𝟸 . 𝟶 . . .  hey  ,  my  wonderful  friends  (  from  one  of  the  best  rps  i  have  been  a  part  of  in  a  while  )  .  i  have  decided  there’s  going  to  be  a  few  changes  to  penelope  ,  nothing  drastic  but  just  in  correlation  to  her  backstory  and  bio  . she’s  still  the  same  penelope  at  the  core  of  all  things  .  please  give  this  a  like  ,  we’ve  most  likely  plotted  but  if  we  haven’t  shoot  me  a  message  . also  i  can’t  believe  i  forgot  but  her  fc  is  changed  to  miss  kristine  froseth  ,  she  radiates  the  quirky  nerd  preschool  teacher  energy  i  needed  and  fits  penelope  a  add  better  !!
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BIO  /  INFO  (  TW  :  DEATH  ,  LOSS  OF  A  PARENT  ,  CAR  CRASH  )  :
penelope  was  the  product  of  two  high  school  sweethearts  ,  who  didn’t  plan  on  having  kids  as  early  as  they  did  .  soon  later  ,  her  mother  and  father  got  married  ,  a  shotgun  wedding  in  which  she  was  mainly  the  reason  for  .  her  parents  were  still  kids  themselves  ,  feeling  a  great  deal  of  pressure  from  their  own  parents  to  get  married  and  ‘ buck  up ’  .  penelope  was  born  in  mapleview  ,  her  parents  have  their  own  reputation  around  mapleview  as  ‘ that  couple  from  my  year  who  had  their  baby  while  they  were  still  in  school ’  .  at  first  they  tried  to  make  it  work  raising  penelope  in  mapleview  with  both  parents  under  the  same  roof  but  it  wasn’t  working  as  well  as  they  liked  .  her  mother  and  father  loved  her  so  much  ,  they  both  wanted  the  best  for  her  and  decided  as  much  as  they  wanted  to  raise  her  under  a  two  parent  house  -  it  wasn’t  worth  this  .  this  meaning  the  constant  fighting  ,  not  having  enough  time  for  penelope  and  their  relationship  -  one  of  them  had  to  pay  the  price  and  they  let  it  be  their  relationship  . 
they  got  a  divorce  .  it  was  really  bad  before  the  divorce  but  after  both  of  them  felt  a  sort  of  weight  off   their  shoulders  like  they  could  be  their  own  person  again  .  they  still  cared  for  each  other  ,  wanting  nothing  but  the  best  even  if  it  wasn’t  each  other  .  when  penelope  was  five  ,  her  mother  decided  to  move  all  the  way  across  the  country  bringing  penelope  with  her  .  her  father  tried  to  fight  it  but  honestly  ,  this  way  he  could  build  his  career  more  .  he  loved  penelope  but  was  a  career  driven  man  at  heart  .  penelope  doesn’t  have  much  memories  from  mapleview  her  first  time  around  .  her  earliest  memory  is  her  fourth  birthday  with  both  of  her  parents  .  
life  in  california  was  extremely  different  from  her  short  lived  life  in  mapleview  ,  california  was  fast  paced  but  penelope’s  mother  loved  it  .  she  loved  the  smaller  things  in  life  like  giving  money  to  a  musician  on  the  street  ,  eating  peanut  butter  out  of  the  jar  ,  shopping  trips  with  penelope  ,  staying  up  til  one  am  on  a  school  night  just  to  dance  and  sing  to  some  music  .  she  was  amazing  .  she  worked  at  a  florist  shop  on  the  corner  of  their  street  ,  she  was  magical  and  sometimes  penelope  feels  her  mother  around  her  .
when  penelope  was  fifteen  ,  her  mother  passed  away  in  a  car  crash  while  she  was  at  school  .  she  remembers  the  principal  and  guidance  counselor  telling  her  what  happened  .  instant  panic  crept  in  because  her  mother  was  all  she  had  here  in  california  ,  what  would  she  do  ??  what  was  going  to  happen  ??  her  dad  came  to  california  as  soon  as  he  heard  ,  the  pair  had  shared  custody  this  meant  that  he  was  now  her  full  guardian  .  he  now  had  a  teenage  grieving  daughter  to  bring  home  with  him  .  he  helped  her  pack  the  things  in  her  house  and  let  her  bring  whatever  she  wanted  and  she  kept  a  lot  of  her  mothers  things  ,  her  distinctive  perfume  and  that  fluffy  christmas  sweater  they  always  laughed  about  .  her  locket  ,  her  pearls  ,  pictures  of  them  .  then  she  left  for  mapleview  .
her  relationship  with  her  father  is  actually  pretty  good  .  she  is  his  only  child  ,  he  spoiled  her  every  birthday  sending  a  card  filled  with  money  .  they’d  talk  multiple  times  a  week  on  the  phone  until  it  turned  into  texting  all  the  time  .  throughout  those  fifteen  years  ,  her  father  had  visited  her  multiple  times  until  she  turned  ten  then  she  was  able  to  make  the  long  plane  ride  from  california  to  north  carolina  .  once  she  got  to  spend  an  entire  summer  with  him  in  mapleview  ,  they  all  together  have  a  pretty  good  relationship  . pancakes  on  sunday  ,  sending  embarrassing  selfies  while  she’s  at  work  ,  walks  in  the  park  with  her  dog  and  trips  to  the  city  . 
the  first  few  months  were  hard  ,  she’d  never  felt  this  alone  and  then  three  months  later  she  was  sixteen  and  starting  at  mapleview  high  trying  to  find  her  place  in  this  brand  new  life  .  it  felt  like  someone  else's  life  like  she’d  possessed  someone  and  taken  over  their  life  . she  knew  some  place  around  mapleview  from  her  weeks  spent  when  she  was  younger  but  she  still  didn’t  quite  feel  at  home  .  she  missed  her  mom  every  night  . 
she  didn’t  make  friends  right  away  .  she  struggled  with  that  because  back  in  california  everyone  from  school  knew  her  and  she  was  somewhat  popular  but  here  she  was  the  new  girl  in  a  small  town  .  that  stemmed  a  lot  of  gossip  .  she  didn’t  have  much  to  do  so  she  dove  herself  into  her  school  work  and  penelope’s  always  been  smart  .  it  wasn’t  hard  to  end  up  graduating  as  one  of  the  top  of  her  class  .  in  high  school  ,  she  became  a  tutor  and  she  had  a  few  people  that  she  tutored  but  it  was  the  first  person  she  got  that  she  remembers  still  to  this  day  .  lane  morrison  . 
meeting  a  boy  and  having  a  somewhat  cliche  teenage  romance  wasn’t  originally  what  she  thought  would  happen  when  she  moved  to  mapleview  .  he  couldn’t  be  more  different  than  penelope  and  instead  of  letting  that  scare  her  off  ,  it  intrigued  her  .  she  tutored  him  for  a  few  months  before  he  dropped  out  ,  it  was  at  the  time  crushing  because  the  first  person  she  reached  out  to  help  didn’t  want  it  but  they  kept  up  with  their  sessions  and  the  rest  is  history  .  a  two  bedroom  bungalow  ,  lizard  ,  dog  ,  spider  ,  turtle  ,  lumpy  couch  ,  john  lennon  the  fish  ,  a  van  deemed  the  shag  mobile  laterrrrrr  they’re  still  together  . 
college  wise  ,  penelope  majored  in  elementary  education  before  changing  it  to  early  childhood  and  development  with  a  minor  for  elementary  education  .  she  currently  graduated  last  year  ,  she  works  as  a  preschool  teacher  of  sorts  at  stepping  stones  .  this  is  her  second  year  working  at  the  preschool  and  she  loves  it  .  it’s  everything  she’s  ever  wanted  career  wise  . 
PERSONALITY  /  HEADCANONS  :
her  mother  actually  loved  flowers  .  back  in  california  ,  at  her  old  house  she  and  her  mother  had  a  garden  in  the  back  that  they  grew  and  tended  too  .  penelope  tried  to  get  one  started  after  she  moved  in  with  her  dad  but  it  didn’t  take  at  the  time  .  she  has  little  flowers  and  plants  that  she  keeps  and  waters  .  lilies  were  her  mothers  favorite  flowers  ,  penelope  made  sure  that  they  were  there  at  her  grave  every  time  she  visited  .  
art  .  now  penelope  got  her  love  of  her  love  of  flowers  and  plants  from  her  mother  but  one  thing  that  was  truly  hers  was  her  love  for  drawing  and  painting  .  mainly  painting  but  she  was  good  at  sketching  .  the  beforehand  and  painting  over  it  .  she  has  a  little  corner  in  her  house  where  she  paints  .  most  of  her  paintings  are  of  her  mother  trying  to  remember  every  curve  of  her  face  without  looking  at  pictures  .  some  are  of  california  and  the  places  they  visited  .  some  are  more  personal  .
she  has  a  few  tattoos  ,  mainly  she’s  picky  because  she  draws  her  own  art  and  wants  to  watch  the  tattoo  artist  trace  them  .  they’re  nothing  clashy  because  she  is  a  preschool  teacher  .  they’re  all  small  and  minimal  but  there’s  several  scattered  in  places  she  can  hide  them  with  under  her  clothes  .
penelope  loves  to  cook  .  she  cooked  for  her  mother  most  nights  back  in  california  and  when  she  first  moved  in  with  her  dad  .  for  her  ,  it’s  a  way  to  show  the  people  she  loves  that  she  loves  them  .  
personality  wise  ,  she’s  more  soft  spoken  but  ready  to  speak  out  if  she  feels  she  needs  too  .  she’s  observant  ,  intelligent  ,  honest  and  adventurous  .  part  of  her  wants  to  get  an  RV  and  just  drive  and  go  anywhere  .  she’s  also  forgetful  ,  flight  -  over  fight  ,  clumsy  as  shit  this  girl  gets  a  new  bruise  or  cut  every  day  .  she’s  definitely  got  a  maternal  personality  ,  always  wanting  to  take  career  of  others  and  the  people  she  loves  . 
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sprnklersplashes · 4 years
Text
not beyond repair (20/20)
AO3. Also shout out to @vnirhaus who has been this story’s biggest cheerleader from the beginning. Thank you so much, bub.
August twentieth, 1990. Her last day at home.
All of her stuff is packed into a suitcase and cardboard box and stuffed into the back of her mom’s car, ready for to be loaded into the bus for an eight hour journey. Her closet is empty and her dressing table almost bare, only her nightstand and shelves still holding evidence that someone lived in this room. Not everything can fit in the back of her mom’s car after all. Her books are still on display and on her nightstand the framed photos and lamp sit as though she’s not going anywhere. If it wasn’t for those, you’d be forgiven for thinking no-one owned this room. The process was pretty tiring and took a lot longer than they thought it would, to the point where Veronica was just stuffing things in with no real rhyme or reason, shrugging off her mom’s warning that she’ll regret it when she has to unpack.
Her parents have been disasters this whole week. Her mom’s the worst offender by far. She hasn’t been able to enter Veronica’s room without waterworks being set off, or a long speech about how her baby girl is “all grown up” and how she doesn’t know where the time’s gone and what’s she even going to do when she’s gone. Veronica had rolled her eyes, swinging an arm around her shoulders and reminding her that there’s still that full-time job of hers to keep her busy and now that she’s gone there’ll be plenty of time for them to do everything they were too busy for. She just laughed at that. Her mom’s also been incredibly focussed on details, unsure if she has enough of this or that or if they need to make another trip to the store even though there’s not even enough room for an extra spoon in her box. Her dad’s been better, but that’s not saying much, given how he hugs her every chance he can get and lingers in her bedroom for longer than necessary, his eyes misting over before he turns and bolts.
Her parents are ridiculous. And she loves them for it.
Martha comes over for one last movie night. Well, that’s what she called it. Veronica’s not one for dramatics like that. It’s not their last, not by a long shot, even if the room is half-empty and she finds herself holding Martha’s hand tightly and pushing away all thoughts of tomorrow. It’s at least the last for a long while, and since Martha can’t sleep over thanks to her early morning start, they’re making the most of it. Across their laps is a feast bought straight from the 7-Eleven; plump and soft marshmallows, king-sized candy bars and jewel coloured candies, and next to Veronica is as many videos as they can play in the few hours they have together. It was no contest for what they’d watch first. 
“Wonder what movies they’ll be showing at Duke,” Veronica wonders out loud, squeezing a marshmallow between her fingers. “Probably some old French movie from the 1940s making some point about society.”
“What makes you think that?” Martha asks. “You’re going to college Ronnie. They have fun at college. My sister says so.” Veronica hums in acknowledgement, rubbing her cheek against Martha’s hand and popping the marshmallow in her mouth. “You’ll probably be watching all those new movies that the video store won’t get until next year.”
“Yeah but they probably don’t have Princess Bride there,” she reminds her. “And this movie is a damn masterpiece.” She squeezes her shoulder warmly, swallowing the lump in her throat. “I won’t even have anyone to cuddle with.”
“You better not,” she replies with faux sternness. When she looks up at Veronica, her eyes may be heavy and sad, but the lightness of her smile balances it. “I’ll share a lot of you. But not cuddling. That’s my thing.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she says, pressing her cheek to her shoulder as if to prove it. Outside her window, the sun sinks further down, bringing the day to its inevitable close. “You won’t miss me too much, will you?”
“Of course I will,” she replies firmly, turning her head to look at her, all wide eyes and soft cheeks and smile that doesn’t meet her eyes. That’s when the reality hits her, and oh boy does it hit hard “How could I not miss you? This is going to be my first first day since preschool without you.”
“You had to put it like that, didn’t you?” she asks. Her shoulders shake, her eyes prickling even as she laughs. “Oh my God.”
“I thought I would be the first one to cry,” Martha jokes, her voice cracking. Veronica leans over and wipes at her cheeks, her fingers coming away stained with black mascara. Martha looks over at the clock, chuckling at the time. “9:30. We made it a whole 90 minutes before losing it.”
“I’m proud of that,” she says weakly, pushing her hair out of her eyes. “Come on. We’re not spending all of tonight crying.” Martha laughs and lifts over a bottle of nail varnish, insistent on doing her nails one last time before she goes. There’s a glow in Veronica’s heart as she expertly paints little daisies on her nails, her formerly insecure hands steady and careful. She tilts her head as she watches her, the years of friendship passing through her mind. She’s always said there’s nothing she’d ever change about her and she stands by that. But the way she is now compared to the start of this year, her chin up, her eyes sparkling and a smile having taken up a near-permanent residence on her face… it’s beautiful.
“I’m so glad I met you. Way back when,” she tells her, giggling a little as Martha’s cheeks go pink, despite being used to those words by now. She’ll never stop meaning them. If she didn’t have Martha, God knows who or where she’d be.
“I love you too,” she replies, squeezing her fingers gently. “Now sit still.”
There’s no doubt that she’ll meet a million and one interesting people at Duke. People from different states and even countries, people who will agree with her and talk with her and odds are she’ll get along with quite a few. She’ll have friends out there, out in the big wide world, and she’s sure she’ll like them, maybe love some. None of them will compare to Martha. None of them are going to be able to know her like she does or make her feel better with a touch of her hand. She won’t be sitting next to them in their backyard and wonder how she got so lucky to be with them. Nor will she be half asleep on their couch and wonder how she’ll survive without them.  She’ll make any number of friends at college, only time will tell. But Martha’s a Martha, and those are much harder to come by.
                                                                                                *****
August twenty-first, 1990. Dear diary…
And it’s then that Veronica suddenly realises, she’s nearly at the end of this diary. Sitting on the hood of her mom’s car, she flips through and finds only three blank pages left. When the hell did that happen? Just three pages for her to write on, the rest covered in her handwriting (and others, she had to keep up the forging practice somehow) and the occasional doodle. With nostalgia blossoming in her chest, and a little hint of heartache, she looks back over the past year and a half of her life. The life and times of Veronica Sawyer, Volume 17. A little more exciting than other volumes, she hopes setting the tone for the next one. She finds moments she could never forget-her first day of senior year, the day she betrayed Martha, her first night with JD, prom night-and then moments she’s surprised slipped her mind-her buying JD’s birthday present, the day she found out she got into Duke, buying prom dresses. All leading up to her last night in Sherwood, Ohio. She doesn’t read over that one.
Something in the back of her mind tells her to look up and when she does, there’s a figure at the end of her street, hurrying down towards her with the weak rising sun behind him, and she closes her diary. She can’t see his face, but she doesn’t have to. She knows there’s a scattering of freckles along the skin, dimples in his cheeks when he smiles, dark curls falling over his forehead, a crooked smile and strong cheekbones. And those eyes, those big dark eyes that make her heart melt even now. Sometimes sad, sometimes scared. And sometimes, a lot of the time, they’re happy, open and sparkling when he looks at her. And they’re always, always beautiful.
She pushes herself off the car and runs towards him, launching herself into his arms. She stifles a sob and presses her face into his neck, winding her arms tighter around his shoulders. He picks her up and she wraps her legs around his waist, wanting her press as much of her body as she can against him. To make a mark on every inch of his skin. He rocks her slightly as he holds her, his breath rushing through her hair and his arms tightening around her. He doesn’t chase her sadness away, nothing could do that, but he makes it feel okay. Like when she leaves, she’s not going to fall apart. He’s good like that.
“I was starting to think you weren’t coming,” she teases. As if she’d ever doubt it. She finds his neck and presses a soft kiss to it, breathing him in. The smell of coffee and old books and fresh air. Before him, she hadn’t realised how a smell could feel like home.
“How could I deny the lady anything?” he asks her in a low voice, like he doesn’t want to disturb the quiet of her street. If people look out their windows, she thinks, what will they think when they see them, intertwined with each other, tangled together. His hands trace patterns on her back, chasing such thoughts away. The only person she wants to think about is him and the way their bodies fit together and how their hearts beat in unison against each other. She won’t think about anything other than the way he feels against her and how it makes everything feel right.
She once worried about losing him. Back then, she knew this was too good to lose and now she knows it is. Even if she knows she’s not losing him forever, part of it still feels like it is. No matter what happens in college, she’s still going to be counting down the days until she’s back with him.
God it’s going to hurt to leave this.
Eventually, he does put her down and she untangles herself from him, her arms achingly empty even though he’s right in front of her. She takes his hand, sliding her fingers between his and squeezing tightly, his hand warm, save for the coolness of his ring and made to hold hers.
“Come on,” she says, tugging him down the street, back to her mom’s car. She cranes her neck to see inside, no sign of her parents yet. He sits up on the car next to her, pulling her against him and kissing the top of her head. As he does so, she hears him sighing against her, tinged with just a little poorly-hidden sadness. She leans into his chest, pulling her legs against her chest and picking at her socks. There’s a pit forming in her stomach, one that grows bigger and deeper until she can’t ignore it, not matter how much he kisses her.
“Is it wrong that I kind of wish I wasn’t going?” she asks after a while.
“Yes,” he replies. “Absolutely. If you even think about turning this offer down I will never speak to you again.”
“Tough love approach,” she says. “I know.” She turns her head just enough to look out at the street, watching the black road slowly but steadily turning yellow with the rising sun.
“Have I told you how proud I am of you?” he asks gently, running his fingers up and down her arms.
“Only about fifty times,” she replies, a chuckle escaping her lips.
“Well here’s to making it fifty-one,” he whispers, his breath tickling her cheek. She reaches up and takes his hand, her fingers around his before pressing a kiss to the inside of his wrist and pulling his arm over her body.  While reason tells her it’s impossible, she wishes there could be a world where they’re always this close, hip to hip, hands together.
She closes her eyes, the silence between them pleasant and somehow worth as much as all the words he’s said to her before. There’s so much in here, secrets they’ve shared and jokes only the two of them could get. It all settles around them like falling snow and it’s comfortable. She hadn’t realised that being silent with someone could mean so much, not until him.
“I got you something,” he says eventually, his own voice thick and shaking. “A little going away present.”
“J,” she sighs as he slides off the car. He holds up a little paper bag, something she hadn’t noticed before now. “You don’t need to get me presents.”
“Are you telling me you wouldn’t have, if it was me?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. She rolls her eyes, putting on a show of being annoyed, but she runs her fingers through his hair with a resigned sigh. She could never be annoyed with him. Even if he is right. “Knew it.”
“Jerk.”
He reaches into the bag and pulls out the present, biting his lip, nervous even now. That might change one day, but if it doesn’t, she’ll still find it endearing.
He presses a diary into her hands, bound in deep blue fabric with a white wolf carefully sewn onto the front, blue eyes looking out at her, secured with a silver buckle and blue strap. Along the spine is delicate silver thread, woven through the dark fabric and reminding her of a starry night sky. A thin silver bookmark hangs from pristine, carefully pressed white pages, all ready to hold her life story.
Just what she needed; she thinks with a shake of her head.
“JD… it’s beautiful,” she tells him, her bright eyes meeting his. She strokes the side of his face, her fingers curling against his cheek and his features glowing. Just a book, some people would tell her. A very generous gift, but it’s just a notebook. Nothing huge. And yet here she is, fresh tears in her eyes and her breath catching in her chest. “Thank you.”
“Here,” he whispers. With a gentle hand, he guides her hand to the buckle and undoes it, opening the book to the front. There on the inside cover, is his looped handwriting along with a drawing of a star, little lines of light shooting out from it.
“Property of Miss Veronica Sawyer,” she reads aloud, her shoulders shaking either from laughter or crying.
“Just in case you lose it,” he says. He takes in a deep breath. “And… so is this.” He takes her hand and carefully lifts it to his chest, placing it over his heart. His eyes never leave hers, even if they begin welling up as well. She can just feel his heart beating beneath her hand, confident and steady and hers. The idea excites her more than anything, him being hers. Forever, if she wants it. Her and JD for as long as she wants.
“JD… Jason,” she says in a low voice, her free hand on the back of his neck. She rubs her nose against his, their lips barely a breath apart. Her words desert her except for the most basic ones and she pulls him against her, her fingers tangling in his hair. She closes her eyes and takes his hand, their fingers intertwined. Neither one of them can guess what’s in store for them, but she’s certain that as long as she can come back to him, and him to her, then she can be okay with anything.
She could tell him all that. She could tell him that she loves him over and over again until they stop sounding like words and she could thank him and tell him that he’s made a mark on her that she couldn’t take away even if she wanted to.
Or she could show him.
Her lips are shy and gentle against his at first, bringing up memories of their first morning together, her in her underwear running to Heather and him coming with her. His hand rests on her back and the other on her waist, his grip gentle. She runs her fingers through his hair and down his cheek, her thumb stroking along his chin, her own touch feather-light.
She tilts her head, opening her mouth and deepening it, her hand curling into his jacket. He reaches up her back and toys with the ends of her hair, his hand slipping beneath and his fingers tangling in it. He gasps a little against her, his chest fluttering, and she giggles despite herself. She kisses him harder and harder again, all the while revelling in the way he tastes. Beneath everything else, beneath the passion and the love and the melancholy, there’s something that’s uniquely him, something she can’t quite explain, but she knows kissing someone else wouldn’t be the same. He’s the only one who can leave her wanting more each time he pulls away and leaves trails of goosebumps on her skin. He’s the only one who can makes her feel like there’s no ground beneath her.
“Veronica,” he whispers against her lips. He rests his forehead against hers, bumping their noses together. When she opens her eyes she sees the tear running down his cheek, and it takes him wiping at her cheeks for her to realise that she’s been crying too. There’s so much unsaid in his eyes and she hears it all.
“I know,” she says in a low voice, her hand finding its way to his heart. He touches his finger to the butterfly around her neck, the corner of his mouth turning up. She pokes the corner of his smile, hoping this moment is captured in her mind forever. When he kisses her again, there’s a lot more desperation in there and it’s feels more bitter than sweet. She leans back a little and his hand lingers on the band of her skirt, trying not to go beneath it.
“Imagine if we did it on your parent’s car,” he jokes breathlessly.
“We’ve done it in worse places,” she replies, chuckling. “Although I’m fairly certain that would get us arrested.”
“Worth it?” he asks, and she slaps his cheek playfully.
“Down boy,” she says.
“Veronica?”
“Shit.” Her mom’s voice carries over the garden fence and she jumps off the car, taking a step away from JD and hastily pulling at her clothes. Some things her mom definitely doesn’t need to know.
She catches him laughing and all she has time for is a dig in the ribs before her mom comes round sees them, her car keys dangling from her hand and her sunglasses on her head.
“Oh, Jason,” she remarks, beaming at him. “Nice to see you.”
“I just came to say goodbye to her, Mrs Sawyer,” he says, taking Veronica’s hand. Her mom’s face softens instantly, apparently forgetting their schedule.
“Well we should really get going… but you two take a few minutes. I have to check stuff in the car anyway.”
“The car is fine,” Veronica sighs, turning to JD. The pit in her stomach opens again, wider and deeper this time, threatening to suck down everything inside her. Still, she smiles up at him and it only grows bigger when he cups her face.
“Go show Duke how we do it in Ohio,” he tells her warmly, squeezing her cheeks gently. She grasps his shoulders, blinking away more tears.
“I’m going to miss you so much,” she replies.
“Oh you’ll be too busy having fun,” he scoffs. “You won’t even think about me.”
“Is that a bet?” she teases, making him chuckle. She lets out an unsteady breath, her hands tightening on him. “You’ll write to me, won’t you?”
“Trust me, you’ll get every detail of my boring life,” he promises, tapping her nose. Insecurity flashes in his eyes, a question he won’t ask on his lips.
“You will too,” she says anyway. “Emails. Letters. Phone calls. Everything. Starting tonight.” She looks over at her mom, seeing her glance at her watch and look at them with worry. She knows it’s time. Her head does anyway. Her heart is digging its heels in stubbornly. His gaze follows hers and, seeming to read her mind, he presses a strong kiss to her forehead.
“I love you,” she tells him, her eyes looking into his. “Jason Dean.”
“I love you too, Veronica Sawyer.” He runs his finger along the back of her hand, his touch tickling. “Ronnie.”
Somewhere in Westerberg Middle School, there’s a table in a geography classroom with their initials carved onto it. That’s where a little boy and a little girl fell in love, even if they didn’t know it yet.
She steps away from him, squeezing his hand one last time before getting into the car, still not taking her eyes off him. She waves at him through the window, her mom climbing into the driver’s seat beside her. He waves back, not stopping even after the car starts up and her mom pulls out of their street. She cranes her neck to keep looking at him, watching him get smaller until they turn a corner and he’s gone. Out of sight, never out of mind.
“Did he get you that?” her mom asks, gesturing to the book in her lap.
“Yeah,” she replies, stroking the wolf on the cover. “Going away present.”
“Aw, sweetheart,” she sighs. A tissue is pressed into her hand and she meets her mom’s eyes, sweet and sympathetic. “Bet you wish you could just put them in your pocket and take them with you, huh?”
Wouldn’t that be nice?
She turns her head and looks out the window. The sun filters through bushes and trees, creating patches of light on her legs and her face. Her mom turns on the radio, playing a song from before her time, one with a pleasant melody and sweet words. They pass the streets she knows like the back of her hand, the video store where she’s on a first name basis with the owner.
Dear diary, she writes on that first page, opposite JD’s message. There’s a huge irony in my life now. It’s not that I don’t want to leave, I do. That much hasn’t changed. I just didn’t count on how hard it was going to be to say good bye. Or how scared I’d be now. But that’s okay. If you don’t have a little sad or scared mixed in with the happy, you’re not human. And I have both, so good for me I guess.
“Be careful you don’t get carsick, hon,” her mom tells her absentmindedly. She nods, closing her diary and tapping her pen against the cover, but her thoughts don’t stop, the dust settling and buzz calming and slowing to a pace she can keep up with. She looks out at the road before her and the world in the distance, finding herself braver and calmer than she had felt this morning. And despite the pain in her chest and dried tears on her face would suggest, she’s happier too.
It’s not bad, this life she has. Sure it’s messy and unpredictable and doesn’t always work out the way she wants. Because if people love her the way they do and she can love them back, then that's more than enough for her.
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renlimotroll · 3 years
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Cruel Summer
Summary: "Stay, Sensei, please." Siruko begs, even though it was useless. Sensei didn't belong to him. Sensei belonged to the world, to his fans, to the stage, to the microphone. This borrowed summer was the best and worst of times, where devils roll their dice and angels roll their eyes. What doesn't kill Siruko makes him want Sensei more.
Pairing: Limone-Sensei x Siruko 🍋🐶
Warnings: BL, a lot of ANGST (but I'm a sucker for happy endings, don't worry), extremely out of character, pure imagination, REALLY LONG ONESHOT FIC, PG-17 (there's nothing explicit at all, but there are heavy implications of mature themes) Please don't read if you are uncomfortable. You have been warned.
A/N:
Lately all I've been thinking about is LimoSiru, and I've been itching to write this ever since my friend Shuura showed me that picture. I'm really not good with angst, so writing this was a major challenge, and I hope I was able to pull it off.
I also want to thank this person who hates me so much, because if they didn't antagonize me so much with subtle little things that no one else sees, then I wouldn't be able to write this masterpiece. I learned that sometimes, no matter what we do--be kind, ignore, confront--they’ll find anything we do to be annoying and they won’t like us and that’s okay. We don’t have to make people like us, and they don’t have to like us too. It's really not healthy for me to be able to only write under extreme negative emotions and stress, but oh, the beauty that comes out of it is heavenly. I turned my frustrations into something beautiful, and I’m proud of it. Without this person, I wouldn’t have been fueled to finish this.
This is dedicated to all LimoSiru shippers like me. Seriously, what's not to like about LimoSiru? Have you seen how Limone-sensei acts when he's with Siruko versus how he acts with everybody else? Sensei turns into the playful, teasing younger-brother person while older-brother, responsible Siruko laughs exasperatedly at him (LimoSiru Hanany Land Reconstruction Part 1, Sensei's POV). He's usually not like that, always being the tsukkomi to chaotic Hanae, so seeing him be boke with Siruko-san is really cute. Plus, when Sensei scolds Mintosu-san VS when he scolds Siruko-san, you gotta tell me how you don't see how much softer he is with Siruko-san. And yes, it's canon that Siruko-san likes it when Sensei scolds him. He's the reason why the whole recorded voice clips went on sale, after all. Thank gods for the Number One Limojo, Siruko-san.
I should stop before the word count goes even longer. Enjoy!
"Stay."
It was still dark; the stars were still scattered across the night sky. Siruko blinks blearily, sleep still evident in his purple eyes. It was rare for him to be up this early, and for good reason. Siruko wasn't good at goodbyes.
"Stay, please. Sensei." He begs into the darkness, even though it was futile, just like all those times he pleaded before. Siruko follows the movement within the room with half-lidded eyes, crawling over to the other side of the bed. To the side where it always smelled like lemons and happiness. Limone was already buttoning up the white shirt he always liked to wear. A glance at the clock showed it was 3:15 am.
"Ohayou, Siruko-san." Sensei chuckles mirthlessly. The bed dips as the blue-haired man sits down. He takes Siruko's hand and kisses his knuckles, and with his other hand he runs his beautiful fingers through purple hair. Siruko almost purred. "You know I can't." He reasons out with a hint of regret in his deep, melodic voice.
What Siruko knows is how cruel this summer is. For the first time in years, his and Limone-sensei's break finally matched. 30 days of pure bliss--of netflix and chilling, playing games all day, going on sneaky dates, and even a trip to the beach for Sensei's birthday. It was good, all kinds of good that he soaked up and basked in because it was limited--a fragile heaven. Alas, all good things must come to an end.
Who would have thought that the man Siruko met in the net cafe so many years ago would be one of the most popular idols not just in Japan, but the whole world even. He could still remember it like it was only yesterday, when a handsome man was there staring at him as Siruko looked up from the vending machine. They struck up a conversation, and Siruko found himself attracted to this gravity of a man who was as charming as the devil and yet as kind as an angel. Since that day (during which Siruko was in high school making friends with a college student Limone), there was never a day where they didn't talk or hang out. It was almost a love story.
Except it wasn't. While their relationship progressed from gaming friends to real friends to friends with benefits, there was never really a clear status or label as to what they are. Especially when Limone started to upload videos of him singing (encouraged by none other than Siruko himself), and he got discovered by the public. Siruko knew one day he'd be popular; it was even him who nicknamed him 'Sensei' as a result of all those times Limone taught him something he didn't know, and the name stuck and now became a stage name. Singing was Sensei's dream, and he loved it with a passion burning as bright as the sun. Siruko loved it too--loved the twinkle in Sensei's eyes when he sang in front of a sea of crowd, loved the healing laugh when he gets interviewed on the TV, loved every billboard and commercial he sees as he walks throughout the busy streets of Tokyo. It's just, sometimes he wishes he had Sensei all to himself. Sometimes, he didn't want to share him with the world. He immediately feels guilty for that thought and scolds himself for being too selfish.
"Why don't you sleep a little longer. You have 8am classes, don't you? You need some rest." Sensei pecks his cheek sweetly, and Siruko chases his mouth for a better one. He needs it like the air he breathes, a kiss of passion, of desperation, of something that wasn't even his to lose, and Sensei gives it to him like he always does, a hot, bright and burning clash of lips and tongue. Heat pools at the bottom of his stomach and he breaks away to leave a trail of light kisses on Sensei's neck, hoping to make him feel how much he wants him.. hoping...
"Stop, Siruko-san." Sensei growls, pulling away and standing. Siruko stills immediately, shame burning acid behind his eyes. He internally mourns the loss of the warmth of another body. "How many times should I tell you, no marks. I can't come out wearing a hickey, you know that. Papz are everywhere." And just like that, the moment was gone. How unfair, Siruko thinks, because he knows his body is littered with colors of different shades, blue warring with purple, marks planted by none other than the possessive lips of Sensei. Limone likes to make sure Siruko knows who he belongs to. Isn't it unfair how only Siruko's body gets to be decorated with bruises and hickeys? Well, who was he anyway to get possessive over Sensei. He swallows the bile threatening to make his tongue bitter.
At least Sensei had the decency to look guilty. "I'll be touring again in a couple of weeks, in America." The idol sighs resignedly. Siruko closes his eyes in defeat; it was inevitable after all. Sensei puts on his watch with all the speed of a turtle, and Siruko knows he is stalling time, using up every millisecond he's allowed to have with his purple lover (?). Sensei didn't look like he wanted to leave either, a small comfort in the growing ache in Siruko's chest.
"How long?"
"3 or 4 months, I guess."
"That's too long."
"It's really not." That's true. When Sensei finally broke out into the international scene and started holding tours in other countries, he has been gone longer. Siruko can never begrudge him of the distance, because Sensei always Skyped and called him even in his busy schedule, even during the times Sensei can barely talk in his exhaustion. He knows, he understands with his whole being the realities of dating (?) an idol, but that doesn't stop him being upset.
He should just be grateful that Sensei spends time with him, a normal college student.
"I'll walk you to the car, Sensei."
Sensei finishes getting ready, putting his glasses and black mask on. Siruko combs Sensei's cerulean silky hair with his fingers, hair that became so messy from their bedroom activity. Siruko doesn't know why Sensei keeps coming back to him when he could literally have any man or woman in the planet, but he takes pride that he was the only one who can mess up Sensei's hair like this, a result of their dirty bedroom fun.
They walk in silence to Sensei's tacky rental car, a preemptive measure to avoid paparazzi or fans who can recognize him. Sensei holds his hand tightly, rubbing circles on the student's cold skin with his thumb. Siruko's chest is heavy, but there's no use whining. Sensei belongs to the stage, to the millions of fans who adored him. Instead, Siruko tries to think about the Sensei only he had. The Sensei who makes him watch horror movies so Siruko could cling to him when he's scared (the sadistic Sensei who enjoys Siruko being scared out of his wits only to comfort him after), the Sensei he can surprisingly outdrink (and how cute the drunk, clingy Sensei was), the Sensei who pets every street cat they see, and makes sure not to get any cat hair on him so Siruko's allergy won't act up.
August slipped away in a blink of an eye, but Siruko memorized everything. Every conversation, every place they went to, every food they ate. He's always been good at memorizing, and he stores everything in his heart. Sensei wasn't his, but the memories with him were his. No one can take that away.
The purplehead makes a whine at the back of his throat, and Sensei cracks a smile, slowing to a stop. Sensei always knew what he wanted, what he needed. He pushes Siruko-san to the shadow created by the walls in the narrow alley, but no one was around anyway, not at this hour. Sensei removes his mask as the darkness shields them from prying eyes and snakes his hand on the purplehead's waist. The singer cups Siruko's chin, tilting his head up, and Siruko can only grab onto Sensei's arm to steady himself. The last thing he sees before he closes his eyes is Sensei's hungry blue eyes and his gold ear-piercing, then Sensei swoops in and captures his lips into a hot, wet kiss. Limone-sensei runs his tongue into every cavern of Siruko's mouth, exploring everything, and it feels like heaven, a toe-curling sensation Siruko can never get enough of. Sensei bites his lip and it stings, then sucks on it tenderly as an apology. The pain mixes with the pleasure, and Siruko forgets where they are at the moment. Sensei takes and leads and dominates, and Siruko can only let him, as always. Fireworks explode in his body and Siruko moans loudly, not even caring who hears. The world could burn right now and Siruko will keep chasing Sensei's lips.
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It felt too long and too short at the same time. The need for air separates them, and Siruko pants, chest heaving up and down. "Stay, please, Sensei." He can't stop begging, holding onto the fever dream high Sensei keeps giving him. Siruko knows the answer anyway, knows it from the way Sensei's lips thin into a firm line, knows from the way his shoulders straighten in resolve. However, knowing doesn't make it hurt any less.
"Stop playing so late at night and focus on your studies, okay?" Sensei whispers in his ear, his hot breath tickling him. He caresses Siruko's cheek in a way that he knows will always bring a beautiful blush. Sensei likes the fact that he can easily make Siruko blush.
"Yada."
Sensei flicks his forehead, earning a grumpy pout from the student. The pseudo-teacher gives in to the temptation to kiss that pout away. "If I say yes to your idiotic request of me recording all those freaky lines you want, will you promise to take care of yourself better?"
Siruko pretends to think. "Fine, but I want that 'Bakagayo' morning alarm. It has miracle powers that'll help me for my crazy morning classes." Sensei rolls his eyes but his chest rumbles in deep laughter, and Siruko likes that. Sometimes he imagines those laughs were reserved for him, and he likes making Sensei laugh a lot. He needs this goodbye to end on a positive note, or else he'll break down.
"You'll do great, Sensei. I'm sure everyone will love the new album." He whispers back, careful not to disturb the peace of the early morn. Despite the fame, the money, the influence Limone has, somehow, he always needed to hear this from Siruko-san, and the latter is only happy to give this to him. It was the only other thing he can give, aside from a good one-night stand. Sensei says Siruko grounds him, whatever that means. Siruko doesn't really understand why Sensei needs reassurance--he was a great singer and an even greater human being, with his charm and wit and kindness, and sometimes Siruko feels silly encouraging him, because Sensei was so out of his league. Sensei was everything he's not--confident, beautiful and interesting. He and Sensei live on two different worlds. But Sensei gives him that small, shy smile that Siruko really loves, and Siruko's heart squeezes. He'll fight the world for that precious smile.
Finally Sensei gets in the car. He rolls down the window to wave goodbye, and then he's off, and in a few hours, in another country, a different timezone. Siruko waits till the car disappears around the block, comes back home, then sags down behind the door and cries and cries.
He lets the tears fall until it's time for him to prepare for class. He doesn't even know why it still hurts  even after all these years. He can't get used to it, no matter how hard he tries. He knows they can never be like any other couple holding hands on the street--they're not even a couple. He was just… that guy Sensei keeps coming back to. A friend, at best. He should be content with stolen kisses, hidden touches, forbidden passions. It's nothing new--he knows he has to keep secrets to keep Sensei. So why? Why does it kill him this much?
Maybe it's because when, three days later, he wakes up into an internet chaos when Limone-sensei's new album comes out. The Bintroll group chat descends into panic and madness of 300 messages. He ignores it all and buys the album, listening to it as he prepares a lab report, even though he already knew all of the songs before the release. He pretends that they were about him, for him. If he pretends hard enough, he can imagine Sensei is with him in the room.
Maybe it's because he sees Sensei everywhere, but it wasn't his Sensei. It was the world's Sensei. His new single is played in every music show, in every diner he eats at, it's in the lips of every conversation around him. Siruko's emotions are always a roller coaster during a comeback. It was good for his grades when Sensei is away; he can concentrate on studying while Sensei focuses on his own career. But the phrase 'out of sight, out of mind' wouldn't work when all he can see and hear is Limone-sensei.
The new single sounds really good. Siruko was really proud of him. When Sensei played it for him on the piano, it wasn't a duet yet. It was different from his usual upbeat, rock-popish songs. Sensei didn't usually sing about anything even remotely resembling love, but this one was almost like that, and that's why Siruko loved it. He didn't know Sensei intended for it to be a duet though, and as much as the woman's voice sounded nice, he preferred the version of only Sensei's familiar voice.
(It reminded him of the beach, of fireworks, of Sensei's wonderful birthday spent with Siruko, of a cruel August slipping away like a bottle of wine.)
Maybe it's because no matter how much he wants to tell his friends and family about this, Siruko can't. He does love the small world he and Sensei are in when they're together, where no one can judge them and they're alone and free to love and make love, but in times like this where he's hurting, he really really wants, needs someone he can share his pain to. It only hurts even more when his own friends talk about Sensei in front of him.
"I'm telling you, it's all promotion, promotion! A gimmick so the song will be talked about more! Not that Sensei needs it." Jiraichan huffs in frustration as Siruko arrives at their group's usual bench. He has half-a-mind to turn back and eat somewhere else as soon as he hears the topic, but that would be suspicious behavior. He tries to smile at the others as they greet him, hoping it didn't look as lonely as he really feels inside.
"And I'm telling you, the song itself is about some kind of a summer love! So… what if it's true!" Quartet argues, and Siruko's throat constricts. Did… they find out? Was their affair finally discovered by the world? Oh no, this scandal, it'll be huge, he can't be tarnishing Sensei's name… people will be hating him. It's ok if they hate me, I don't care, but please don't let this ruin Sensei's career, oh god what can he do to clean up this mess, why did he even think he can sort-of date an idol, oh my god ohmygod
"Siruko-chan? Are you okay? You look pale." Ichihachi notes, worry coloring his tone. He puts down his snacks and inspects their leader's face. Siruko didn't even realize he was on the verge of a panic attack. "Did you stay up all night studying again? I thought you got a high score on that midterms."
"I'm fine." But it wasn't true. His chest is being constricted by a big snake, squeezing air out of his lungs. The purplehead tries deflecting. "Where's Hakotaro and Minben-san?"
"They're in class. Siruko-san, have you heard of Sensei's new song? Of course you did, is there anyone who hasn't heard it yet?" Jiraichan asks rhetorically, obviously trying to change the topic away from Siruko to help, bless Jiraichan's soul, but in this case, it only makes it worse. "Do you like it? Do you think the rumors are true?"
"What.." he chokes, feeling the much-needed oxygen escape his body. "...rumor?"
"Eh you didn't know? Hang on." Quartetchi fishes his handphone from his pocket, scrolls for a while, then shows him the screen. A picture of Sensei and the female idol he had a duet with. Sensei's hand was on her back and they were laughing. They look… good together. "It says that Sensei is dating her. The internet's going crazy, but Sensei's company hasn't released a statement yet. It could be true though, I-- wait where are you going? Siruko-san?"
Siruko dashes away, feeling guilty for the three worried, confused looks of his friends he left behind, but he needs to get away. He needs to.. he doesn't know… he never knew it was possible but this was so much worse, so much more painful than earlier. He can't breathe, can't apologize to those he bumps along the way (not recognizing it was Minben-san and Hakotaro who calls his name, tries to grab him but he shakes them off violently). Nothing registers in his mind anymore than the need to get away… He needs to get out of here. He needs to…
Tears stream down his face and he can't even see where he's going. He trusts his legs to take him home, because honestly his brain can't be relied on right now. The image is flashing again and again in his mind, like his own personal hell. He shouldn't worry about it, dating rumors have always been there since Sensei rose to fame, the company will deny it later, Siruko's sure. But there was something ugly, something twisted eating him alive, making it hard to breathe. Maybe it's his insecurities, telling him that they look nice, and dating another idol must be better, because Sensei is honestly better off with anybody than Siruko, a good-for-nothing college student who sometimes streams games with his friends. He was just an old-time friend good for lonely, horny nights, and there wasn't even something between them. Maybe it was just all his imagination, the heated affection he sees in Sensei's electric blue eyes after Siruko tells a horrible joke, the promise of forever after a heated exchange of lips. He thought there was something there. But what if there wasn't?
Before he realizes it, he's in a bar, and he resolves to drown everything in alcohol. He wants to get wasted, to forget about everything, even for just a moment. Maybe even find someone he can replace Sensei with (as if, his heart scoffs). But he can't. Every time someone talks to him, it wasn't that deep melodic voice with witty banter, the voice who always scolds him but is always gentle with him, and he is disgusted with anyone not Sensei. When someone tries to flirt with him, he is revolted and he flinches away, because it wasn't Sensei's beautiful fingers touching him, it wasn't Sensei's rough yet caring touch. He goes home, drunk in the back of the cab and crying all the way home, and thankfully the driver ignores him.
Siruko doesn't realize that he's calling Sensei as he locks his front door. He curses himself as the ring goes too long; it could be any time of the day for Sensei right now, on the other side of the world. He could be preparing for interviews. He could be practicing with his crew. He could be with his girlfriend.
"Hi Siruko-san,"
And Siruko breathes clear for the first time today, that's the effect Sensei's voice has on him. His vision is blurry, maybe from the tears, maybe from the alcohol, maybe from the relief that Sensei answered the call. "Hello? Nashita? Is something wrong?"
"Is it true?" He whispers.
"Is what true? Hey, have you been crying?! What's going on?"
"You're dating her."
Siruko hears someone on the other end, maybe Sensei's manager Hanachan, muffled voices in low tones, and he feels guilty for interrupting whatever Sensei was doing. Siruko wants to hang up; he shouldn't be doing this right now, should have planned more for this discussion. He wonders if he can break up with Sensei, if he even has the strength to. The thought is so horrible and unbearable it makes him sick and want to vomit. Call him masochistic, but Siruko isn't above being a side lover, if only just to at least still be beside Sensei in some way. He decides to leave the decision to Sensei, and whatever he wants, Siruko will go along with it, as he always did. He'll follow Sensei to the ends of the world anytime.
"I'm sorry Siruko-san." Siruko intakes a gulp of air at Sensei's tone. This is it, he thinks. It's the end. "I didn't know about the rumor at all. Hanachan said the company is taking care of it."
"She's really pretty. You look good together."
"What?! No way! I told you it's not true! Jesus, Siruko-san." Sensei anger-whispers frustratedly. "I am not dating her."
Siruko pauses, forcing the words out, "But you can."
Sensei's pointed silence was an answer enough and Siruko continues. "You can date her. She's a better match for you more than I will ever be." Sensei inhales sharply that signals he's about to interrupt, but Siruko-san won't let him. For the first time, all the words are flowing. They'd be having the conversation they should have had all along these years. "It's not like we're… what are we, Sensei?" His voice breaks, and Siruko chuckles humorlessly and clutches his aching chest to keep himself together. "I know what I am to you. A friend, a good time in bed. And I'm content to be that. It's up to you now what you want me to be, but please. Please don't keep me away from your life. I… I can't stay away from you, Sensei. I'll be anything you want me to be, as long as I can stay in your life. That's all I ask for."
"Siruko-san," The blue-haired idol starts, and Siruko can picture him pinching the bridge of his nose like he does when something upsets him. Siruko wonders if the new girl knows Sensei like he does, knows how Sensei is annoyed when his glasses are fogged up, knows that Sensei hates cigarettes so Siruko gave it up for him, knows how much Sensei loves sneakers. Siruko grits his teeth angrily. No, no one knows Sensei like he does. Why is it so unfair, why can't Sensei just be his.
"I'm sorry, I know I'm interrupting something, so please, don't mind me. Congrats on your new album and single by the way. Good--
"Wait!!" Sensei shouts frantically. "Siruko-san, please, listen to me." Oh gods, here it comes. Sensei will break up with him. Knowing it's coming doesn't make it any less painful. "You're…
You're very special to me, and I don't want to see you like this. I… I'm sorry… " Siruko's breath hitches as he expects break-up words next. "...that I hurt you, I swear that rumor is false. I would always be honest to you, so please believe me." Sensei pleads. Siruko is confused why Sensei is not yet breaking up with him.
"Can we… this conversation… I think it's better if we talk personally… so I'm really sorry to ask this but, please, wait for me? I'll be home soon, I promise. Wait for me, please?"
Wasn't this something... worse? Waiting for Sensei to leave and dump him… isn't it agony? Sensei should just rip Siruko's heart out right now, swift and easy, on a phone call and not personally, instead of cruelly making him wait for months. But oh well, if Siruko has been able to keep their relationship a secret for five long years, what is a few more months.
"Okay…. I'll wait for you."
"Thank you, Siruko-san. I--" Siruko cuts him off and decides that this conversation has been long enough. He wants to sleep.
"I need to go, Sensei. Before I hang up, can I tell you something? Though, it might be the worst thing you'll ever hear."
Sensei hesitates but relents. "Sure, what is it?"
The few seconds were long enough that Sensei could be thinking he was asleep, but he waits patiently. Siruko decides it's now or never.
"I love you."
Then he hangs up.
November came. Autumn leaves were falling down, a reminder of the beauty of letting go. It had been two months since their last conversation, and it might be the worst two months in Siruko's life. Everyone noticed and were worried, and although Siruko appreciates their concern, he can't exactly tell them why he's not eating well, why he prefers staying on his bed rather than gaming like he used to, and their persuasions are becoming annoying. The purplehead leaves the lecture hall, rearranging his red scarf and wrapping his arms around his bony self. The air was cold, and something about it felt like something was going to happen soon. 
On the way to his apartment building, he sees a familiar man wearing glasses and a black suit with an orange tie, and it was so out-of-place in the sea of half-awake, half-dead zombie horde of students that Siruko couldn't help but stare. The man scans his surroundings and locks eyes with him. Siruko instinctively steps back.
The man approaches him with a big smile. "Hi Siruko-san! We finally meet! I'm Hanae Natsuki, I'm assuming you already know who I am?"
Siruko's lilac eyes widen in surprise. Of course he knows who this man is. He's the only person in the world who knows about his secret relationship with Sensei, although he's never met Sensei's manager personally before. (Even if he's not connected to Sensei, Siruko would have still recognized. Hanachan was as popular to Sensei's fans as the idol was.) He nods, unable to form words out of his nervousness. Why was he here? Is Siruko in trouble? 
"Do you still have classes? Can I invite you for tea?"
"Hai…" Siruko murmurs anxiously. Hanachan flashes him another wide smile and leads him to a sleek, fancy car.
The cafe Hanae-san brought him to was a quaint, charming one, and the smell of coffee and pastry wafts throughout the place. Hanae-san guides him to one of the more private tables. Their orders arrived moments later (expensive-looking aromatic tea for Hanachan and coffee for him, along with several kinds of pastries and treats).
"So, you're a university student? How's school?" Hanachan asks after a sip.
Siruko shrugs, "If I pretend that my professors are the monster bosses in a game I have to defeat and that every year I pass I level up and get closer to clearing the game, it's fine."
"You're a gamer?" Hanachan chuckles at the metaphor. "Sensei always makes me play horror games!" He complains good-naturedly. "What kind of games do you play?"
They converse for a while, pleasant enough to the point where they can laugh for a bit. Hanachan forks the scone to his mouth and remarks, "Now I know why Sensei likes you so much."
Siruko blinked, mouthful of croissant. "Eh??"
Hanachan shakes his head a little, grinning. "You're too cute for your own good. Listen, the real reason I met with you is this." He fishes out a big ticket and an armband from his coat. "Sensei's performing tomorrow at the Unit, so go see him, okay?"
Siruko swallows painfully, biting his lower lip anxiously. "But… doesn't he have an American tour?"
"We're on a break right now." Hanachan assures him, "He misses you. He doesn't say it, but I know him." Hanachan looks at him with heavy intensity, and suddenly Siruko knows why this man was good at what he does. Hanachan knows how to wield his charm and professionalism. Siruko privately thinks he would be super famous too if he weren't a manager. "Go see him, Siruko-san, and if you choose to, please talk to him. Everything will be alright once you talk. Got it?" Siruko finds himself unable to say no, not that he wants to. The thought that he'll be able to see Sensei fills him with nervous excitement. He nods meekly, accepting the gift. To be able to see Sensei, even just as a fan, it's enough. Siruko's stomach is filled with butterflies.
"Sa te, see you there!" Hanachan stands to leave, and Siruko scrambles to bow deeply to thank him. "You're really good for him, you know? Sensei's born to shine under the spotlight, but he won't take the stage if there wasn't someone pushing him and encouraging him from the shadows. He can fly to anywhere in the world, but at the end of the day, he needs and craves a home to come back to. Thanks for being that person, Siruko-san." 
Siruko flushes red at Hanachan's words. "Is it this easy to tease you? I might start doing it more." The manager laughs evilly, causing Siruko to sweat-drop. Hanachan places a firm hand on his shoulder.
"I know you've always been there for him, so continue to take care of him, ne? Let's play together sometime too!"
"Hai!" Siruko's lips twist upwards brightly. Hanachan is an amazing person; he was like a walking sun. Siruko stays in the cafe for a while, staring at the ticket for the details. He really really wants to see Sensei, and he's so tired of stalking him via fancams and tv shows and social media. Tomorrow, no matter what happens, whether Sensei dumps him or not, Siruko's going to see him, and that's all that matters.
It turns out, he'll be going to the concert on his birthday.
When he arrived at the concert venue, Siruko almost wanted to go back home again. He couldn't stop his hands from shaking, whether it was from nerves or excitement, he doesn't know. But the guard recognizes him (maybe Hanachan showed him a picture) and leads him to a back door, where usually the staff and crew are. Hanachan greets him and leads him to the steps that lead to the stage where Sensei already was. Siruko bites his lip and hunches to himself, hoping Sensei wouldn't notice him yet.
It was always a one-of-a-kind experience attending Sensei's concerts, and Siruko loves it. Loves the energy, loves the crowd swaying to the beat and chanting the idol's name. It was electrifying, and he can honestly say it was one of his favorite things in the world. Tonight's concert was a small one, a limited only fan member-exclusive type. But that didn't mean it wasn't crowded. It was Siruko's first time being on the other side of the stage though, and he can see the limojos and fans' excitement as Sensei taps his mic to start the show.
Siruko enjoys the show, he really does, but he feels a bit strange. Usually when he watches Sensei's concerts, he focuses on Sensei alone, blind to everything else. Now that he's on the other side of the stage, he can see the fans' reactions to everything Sensei does, the way their eyes are lit with faithful admiration, the way they absorb everything Sensei says and does, and it reminds Siruko again that Sensei is not his. That Sensei is a performer and he belongs to the microphone, to the stage, to the fans. And Siruko can tell that Sensei loves this, that he's having fun doing this, that the fanchants only motivate him to sing better, to be a brighter star than he already was. Siruko can't take this away from him, and maybe it really was for the best to part ways. If Sensei can't do it, then Siruko needed to be the one that got away. Siruko's heart drops to his stomach, melancholy seeping through his veins. I'd gladly sacrifice my heart and happiness, he thinks sadly, for Sensei.
As Siruko was about to leave, Sensei clears his throat on the mic, implying an encore. A crew hands him a guitar and Sensei jokes a little, and the fans are ecstatic. Sensei looks especially handsome under the bright spotlight, and that's not Siruko being biased. He drinks from his water bottle and suddenly Siruko feels thirsty too (it should be illegal to look that hot just by drinking water). He begins the encore by giving a message, and Siruko decides to stay against his better judgement. It might as well be the last song of Sensei's he'll ever let himself listen to.
"First, I'd like to thank all of my fans and supporters. I owe everything to you guys, and if it weren't for your support I wouldn't be here on this stage. The last five years were truly an amazing ride, and I'm glad to be able to share my music to the world. Thank you so much." He bows deeply. 
Suddenly, Sensei turns his head to the side and their eyes meet, blue connecting to purple. Sensei smiles, and Siruko can't help but to mirror it. Siruko's heart drums out loud in his ears. Limone addresses his audience again. "That's why I'm hoping that my fans can support me in this announcement I'm about to make." Sensei pauses, and there's a mix of confusion and anticipation in the air. Sensei holds Siruko's gaze again as he speaks into the microphone, and the intensity makes the butterflies in his stomach flutter harder. "There's a really special person in my life, a person that I love so much, and I hope my fans will accept that." Siruko's breath hitches. He can hear the shocked noises of the fans but he can't really process anything. Was Sensei… really doing it?
"Many of my fans have asked me before, why I don't sing about romance. I've actually written a lot, but I was scared. I know it's silly and stupid. Me? Scared?" The audience laughs and Sensei does too. Sensei can charm an entire mass of people just by being himself. "But that's the truth. The industry I work on can be ruthless and cruel sometimes, and every little thing I do is subject to the public eye. I wanted to protect this person from the hatred and the judgement, so I kept us a secret for a long, long time."
"How long?" An audience shouts, and Siruko panics, thinks that the fans won't accept, that they're angry, that Sensei's career is blowing up and Siruko's to be blamed, and it must have shown on his face because Hanachan is suddenly beside him brushing up on his elbows, and winks at him. He realizes that this must all be planned, that maybe the fan was planted there to ask it. Siruko relaxes.
"How long, you ask? Five years! It was way before I started being an utaite. Actually, you guys should thank this person because they were the one who told me to upload my singing videos." Sensei declares in amusement. His tone takes a more somber note as he continues. "I'm really sorry for keeping this from you guys, so please don't be mad." Siruko sees some people shake their heads as a reply, and he realizes for the first time that maybe, this could work. The sliver of hope shines bright for the first time in his life. Maybe Sensei can finally be his.
"I guess what I want to say is, I hope people can accept that I'm only human, and it's not a sin to love, is it?" The fans shake their heads unanimously, and some even looked like they were about to melt. Siruko feels he is about to melt too. "I decided that I want to still keep our relationship private, so I hope my real fans respect our privacy. This is me saying that I won't hesitate to shove any paparazzi cameras to their faces, bakatare omaera." The audience laughs and takes every word of Sensei's with an awesome amount of worship, like they're ready to fight anyone that stands in the way of their idol's happiness. "The most you guys get is maybe a hand or a voice in one of my social media posts, and that's it. I'm not sharing this person with anyone." Another audience shouts, "Sensei, aren't you too possessive!" and Sensei roars with laughter, making the audience join him too. "Yes I am!" He says proudly, and Siruko can only chuckle and shake his head exasperatedly.
"I won't be giving any interviews about this, so go ahead and upload this and share it everywhere. I also won't hesitate to take any legal actions, I can totally afford a lawyer or five." Sensei jokes, but everyone knows how serious he is taking this. "I'm just asking my true fans to respect that I'm allowed to love someone and I'll do anything in my power to protect it. Is that okay?"
The audience screams yes, and Sensei laughs, which is music to Siruko's ears already. He feels tears well up in his eyes and tries to hold them back by biting his lower lip. This is too overwhelming, and so different from all the ugly scenarios he was always worried about. This isn't how he imagined it to go, not this easy acceptance from his fans, not Sensei revealing he loves Siruko to the world first before Siruko himself. 
"I'm dedicating this song to that special person. I hope my feelings reach you, love." And the audience went 'aaaaaw' as the lights dim, a lone light focused on the singer.
Sensei began singing the notes to his latest single, and tonight he's performing it as a solo, the way Siruko heard it originally.  And now Siruko understands. It really was that summer: the picturesque beach on that day, the waves on his feet, the sand underneath his body as Sensei smiles on top of him. The beautiful purple twilight, the fireworks he wished would never end along with the summer. For the first time, he can finally assume that the song was his. Sensei was his.
And he can see it. That underneath the Limone-sensei that fans adore and worship on the stage was Siruko's Sensei who couldn't hold his hand in the beginning because he was too shy. That beneath all the glitter and glamour of being an idol, a star, is Siruko's sensei who knows all the spells in the Harry Potter movies, a big big dork who picks out all the vegetables in his food and whines about it unless Siruko threatens to withhold coitus if he doesn't eat it. He's still Siruko's Limone-sensei, who can master any game he plays so easily it's almost god-like, and honestly Siruko thinks Sensei would have been a better pro-gamer than an idol. 
His Sensei, who looks at him from time to time while singing, with love and affection in his intoxicating ocean eyes, something that Siruko can't be mistaken about anymore because it was so clear as the blue sky. 
As the song ended, Hanachan grabs his elbow, and Siruko quickly tries to wipe his cheeks (he didn't even realize he was crying) and Hanachan just gave him a knowing smile. "Here, go to this hotel room," he says while handing out a card. "Wait for him there, Siruko-san."
As he takes the card, he glances towards the stage and once again, blue meets purple eyes. Sensei smiles at him so tenderly it physically hurts Siruko's heart, and Siruko smiles back shyly. He's grateful for a time to collect himself before they talk, because if Sensei kept flashing that stupid disarming loving smile like that, Siruko will probaby die and ascend to heaven.
"Thanks, Hanachan."
"Sure! Just remember, put your hickeys in places we can't see, okay?" Hanachan winks.
Siruko blushes so hard he turns beet red, and Hanachan laughs loudly at his expense.
It took Siruko a long time to come down from the high Sensei brought him to. After admiring and checking out the high-class, fancy hotel room, he decides to take a shower to help calm himself down. Just as he came out of the (really big) bathroom, Sensei barges in with a loud noise, takes one long head-to-toe gawk at Siruko's robe-clad wet body, and Sensei lunges at him like a hungry predator, kissing him hard, taking his robe off faster than you can say "darling".
They're lying on the fancy bed now, silky sheets tangled up between them, the perfect afterglow leaving them to their own thoughts and to catch their own breaths. When he turns to his side to look at Sensei, he sees that Sensei still hasn't come back to Earth either, what with his dopey smile and glazed blue eyes. Siruko wants to bottle up this moment forever.
However, some matters need to be discussed first, even though Siruko would rather talk with his body than his mouth. "I think we should talk, Sensei."
"No shit." Sensei chuckles then faces him. This close, Siruko can feel Sensei's breath fanning his face, can count each beautiful eyelash, can easily touch Sensei's collarbone and feel the warm skin against his. Sensei takes his hand and kisses it, and Siruko follows the movement with his eyes. It was incredibly intimate, and he only realizes now that Sensei liked to do this all the time. He really was that blind, huh.
"First, I want to apologize. Nope, don't interrupt," Sensei puts a finger on his lips when Siruko was about to react. "This was my fault, and I'm surprised that you held out so long for me. Thinking back, that was really shitty of me and you could have left me, but you didn't. Thank you."
Sensei gathers his thoughts with a deep breath. "This is such a lousy excuse, but the truth is, I didn't have time to think about us. I was always chasing after my career, and frankly, I took you for granted. I never told you, but you're the anchor that keeps me stable and steadfast even against the stormiest weathers. The reason I can sail through this shitshow of a show business is because I have you to come back home to." Sensei traces his jawline affectionately, unknowingly repeating Hanae-san's words. Siruko's heart clenches. "You're my lifeline, Siruko-san. And you've been so patient, so kind, so understanding, waiting for me all this time. I'm so incredibly grateful but also really surprised that you haven't left my dumbass." They both let out amused laughs at that.
"After you called me that day, I realized how much I screwed up. I was so focused on keeping us a secret that I never even told you how I felt about you. So I talked to my agency, told them I want to announce us, and... wait, I realized I went ahead and said we're dating even though I never really asked you out." Sensei realizes, horror dawning on his face.
"Bakagayo," Siruko whispers Sensei's favorite phrase, making Sensei laugh. "You already said it out there, so you can't take it back. Oh my god, we're," Siruko mirrors Sesnsei's stricken pose as the realization hits him. "...dating! Sensei, punch me so I know I'm not dreaming."
"Bakagayo," Sensei shows him how it's said the right way, and Siruko giggles. He loves it when Sensei says that. "I talked to my agency, and at first they were hesitant. It's understandable, but my career could burn at our door and I wouldn't care. You can't expect an idol to sing about love when they're not allowed to love. That's stupid." He rolls his eyes irritatedly, and traces Siruko's lips with his finger.
"I did tell them I have hundreds of songs written about you, so that's good album material as any. There wasn't any point arguing with me because my mind was all made up, and Hanachan was totally backing me up hard. We pestered and badgered until they gave up and let me."
"But… wouldn't this damage your career?"
"Hmmm… the crazier fans would flip out, but I couldn't care less. Haven't you seen my fans? They're the kindest!"
"That's true." Siruko agrees. "Are you sure the limojos won't hate me?"
"Are you kidding? And aren't you my number one limojo, though?" Sensei kisses his nose, and Siruko giggles again, pressing closer. "But we're still gonna be private about this. Just as a precaution, I don't want anyone crazy coming after you, so I'm not revealing your identity if I can help it, and we still can't go out on dates in public. I'm sorry." Sensei hugs him tighter, kissing his violet hair as a sincere apology.
"It's okay, no one has to know about us. I'm already content that everyone knows you belong to me." Siruko feels Sensei laugh through the vibrations in his chest. The feeling of hearing Sensei's heart beat like this was magnetic. "But can we at least take a pic so I can tell my family and Bintroll?"
"Now? You really wanna be announcing us to them naked and just after we had---"
"NO!! LATER!! BAKA BAKA BAKA!"
Sensei laughs, and Siruko feels that everything is okay in the world. It feels like he's been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders and it's been lifted off of him now. He relaxes further into Sensei's embrace, rubbing his head into the crook under Sensei's chin and burrowing further, like a feline. Sensei responds by stroking his hips, and Siruko knows it won't be long before they start their tumble in the sheets again, coz Sensei is insanely insatiable like that. But for now, Siruko savors the cuddles. Honestly, he didn't care about them hiding. It just feels better now that he can at least tell his friends, and that no matter what happens, he knows that Sensei is his. 
Of course it won't be easy, the complications of dating a famous person are always there to ruin things after all, but Siruko doesn't really care. As long as he gets to be with Sensei, that's enough. Even if he doesn't get to scream it to the world, as long as Sensei loves him back, it'll always be enough.
Siruko reluctantly pulls back from his warm cocoon of Sensei's arms to look up to Sensei's beautiful piercing eyes. "Sensei, I need to tell you something that might be the worst thing you'll ever hear."
"Hn?" Amusement dances in his blue eyes, already knowing what it is.
"I love you." 
"Jya, I'll tell you something too, but it might be even worse than what you just told me."
"Un?"
"I love you too. And happy birthday."
The kiss that came after was electricity starting up their hearts, fire burning their bones. It was blue as the beauty of sky, the loyalty and trust in every shade. It was purple painting the twilight, devotion and passion in every stroke of color.
It might have been a cruel summer, but Siruko wants every kind of summer with Sensei.
Later, the locket that was his birthday present opens up to a picture of them kissing at that beach, taken after Sensei had just turned his brain, body and soul into mush after their mind-blowing something and just right after fireworks decorated the night sky, and Siruko decides it wasn't really a cruel summer after all.
The End.
A/N:
I did imagine an omake where Siruko sends a picture of Sensei kissing his cheek while they're in bed to the Bintroll group chat, and Jiraichan screams "WHAAAAAAT", Quartetchi furiously types, "IS THIS A PRANK", Ichihachi calmly sends "Congratulations", and Minben-san teases him "Wow, way to go getting yourself a sugar daddy. Omeome!" Hakotaro calls him angrily and scolds him, but in the end, he was happy for his Niisan. (And maybe he gives Sensei the shovel talk later. Hurt my Niisan and I'll drive a wooden stake straight to your heart.)
My only regret is I want to write Sensei's pov, coz obviously Siruko can be a little bit of an adorable baka who doesnt see how much Sensei loves him---
The fantastic art in this story was made by my friend Shuura, so please do not grab or reupload it elsewhere. Thank you, Shuura! Click this to see more of her Limone-sensei art! 💙
Send me your reactions and comments! I'd love hearing your thoughts! Also, you can send some prompts or requests, I'd like to try challenging myself in writing, and any Bintroll pairing is fine! Thanks for reading~ 🌻
Also, the thought of scared-to-death Siruko-san x horror-fears-me Limone-sensei is haunting me, help I love this trope.
Lastly, I wonder if anyone can recognize the easter eggs and real references I wrote. There were a lot 🍋🐶
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charliebattinson · 6 years
Text
ON THE ROAD | Road trip with Shawn (BP) | Shawn Mendes
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Hey loves!!! So this is my first legit writing? I don’t write imagines and this is just bullet points but I’ve been thinking a lot about this and I felt like writing it. Most likely I won’t be writing again, I just had so much inspiration for this haha. I hope you guys enjoy, i hope it’s not too cringe and feedback is much appreciated! Also a huge thank you to @illumegeoff for helping me on how to insert an image lol & for being super supportive (p.s. the yolo phrases was something inspired by you based on what i saw on your blog lmao) and @justadashoffangirling for being super supportive!!!
super spontaneous
“Hey babe let’s go across the country”
“Sure. When?” “Now!” “WHAT NOW?”
Shawn would be “YOLO”
You just pack all the necessities. Super little clothes
“We won’t really be needing a lot of clothes” 😏
You bring your polaroid because memories
You guys legit have no idea where to go. No plans at all.
Just drive, drive and drive
You’re so turned on by shawn driving stick in a pick up truck with sunglasses on
You take a pic of him
And you’re like “mamma mia”
“Shawn pull over”
Red cheeks and messy hair
Playing old hits like no scrubs, leaving on a jet plane, bittersweet symphony, a thousand miles
“But I would walk 500 miles and i would walk 500 more”
“Da da da (da da da)”
Playing games in the car
You shuffle your music and play name that tune
License plate game - see how many different license plate you can find or try to find a phrase in that license plate
Shawn being a sour loser
“HEY I GOT THAT FIRST”
Shawn not talking to you because you won
“You’re such a big baby”
Kissing his face and neck to make him give in
“Baby I don’t wanna die”
Stopping by the gas station
Buying shit load of junk food
Trying to talk to each other with your mouths full of cheetos giggling at one another
See who can stuff more marshmallows in their mouths
You stop by an open area with a tiny cliff in the middle of the dessert because the stars are so pretty and night is beautiful
Lying down at the hood of the car talking about things while sharing a bottle of cheap wine
You decide to spend the night there
Cuddling with loads of fluffy blankets in the back of the truck
You take turns driving
Shawn puts his hand on your thigh just to soothe you; he finds comfort in touching you
You rent a motel room and take a nap before heading out for the night
There’s a country fair!!! Drinking on apple ciders and sharing on a turkey leg and funnel cake
Dancing to “sweet home alabama”
Playing fair games
Shawn gets so competitive with some of the kids in the fair games
“HE WAS 8 SHAWN”
“AGE IS JUST A NUMBER”
winning a huge ass stuffed toy
FERRIS WHEEL 🎡
You’re scared for the both of you because he’s a fucking tree and you feel like your seats are just gonna break
when you’re up there at the top you can’t help but just admire how shawn looks, how much you love him and he can’t help but do the same
Next thing you know Shawn’s trying to unlock the door to your motel room, struggling with the keys but its so hard to because he can’t stop kissing you
“Shawn open the fucking door”
Hands everywhere on each other, clothes scattered on the floor
It’s giggly and playful at first then it becomes rough and needy “from giggles to loud moans”
“Shawn we’re going to leave a dent in the wall. Tone it down”
“Fuck no”
Shawn takes a pic of the two of you after sex. You guys have a private scrapbook full of intimate and candid polaroids. Something to keep both of you sane when he’s on tour for months
Talking, eating in between the sheets
Shawn playing the guitar (of course he brought it) and serenading you with the police’s “every little thing she does is magic”  and you can’t help but swoon so hard
Round 2 becomes round 3 and so on…
Late night swimming in the pool of the motel
Waking up in the late morning because of how spent you are
You straddle shawn and take a polaroid of him sleeping with his full lips and fluffy hair
Morning sex 😏
Getting ready to head for the next place
Showering together taking a pic of him in the shower because its a glorious sight to see with his wet hair
Arguing on which road to take
“I SAID RIGHT SHAWN WHY DID YOU TURN LEFT?!”
“I panicked!”
getting so confused with the directions of the map till you both realize its been upside down all this time
“Fuck”
Your tire runs flat
“Fuck”
Shawn goes and replaces it, his arms are in full flex mode and he’s so hot doing it
“Fuck”
Finally getting to the destination
HORSESHOE BEND, ARIZONA
You’re both so amazed on how beautiful it but also curse at how hot it is
SUNBURNT SHAWN™
“Babe lets take tourists shots”
You admire how cute shawn looks with a baseball cap, backpack and his arizona shirt as he gives you a big smile when you take a picture of him
You just sit there just staring at it admiring it and how happy you are with this spontaneous trip
Buying postcards and a souvenir to every place that you visit
You head out to a diner
Burgers and milkshakes; sharing a banana split, deciding where to go next
“Yolo bitch”.. “shawn” .. “sorry”
You decide to go to the beach in the middle of the night
Skinny dipping
“WHY DID I LET YOU DO THIS TO ME IM FUCKING FREEZING”
“What if my balls fall off or what if something bites them”
Falling asleep on the beach and waking up in time for the sunrise
You bump into your old college friends and they invite you to a beach party
ITS A LIT 🔥🔥🔥 BEACH PARTY
You and shawn do shotguns and beer pongs ; maybe eat little amount of “brownies”
You and shawn get seperated at the party
You find shawn with a crowd cheering on him
CHUG! CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!
He’s doing a keg chug and he’s so drunk
He’s screaming “YOLOOOOOOO”
Drunkly making out
You drunkly watch the fireworks
“PEW PEW”
“I looove youuuu”
Pass out and wake up to your friends house
Spend the day in the beach just chilling, sunbathing
Burying shawn in the sand and ditching him
“AH FUCK YOU”
Pouring aloe vera all over shawn’s face
BUNGEE JUMPING
Watch this for visuals https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4e4e217pXrU
Camping out near the woods
You both have no clue on how to built a tent
Having a bonfire and melting marshmallows
He brings out his guitar and sings
“Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious”
“How do we have sex in a tent?”
“We can’t shawn you’re too goddamn big”
“Oh really… 😏”
Waking up to a beautiful breezy morning
Visiting a nice town, renting out a bed and breakfast
The old couple who owns the place admires the both of you because it reminds them of their younger selves
Sleepless night 😏
The old couple also has a sleepless night because they thought someone was getting murdered
“I hope that poor girl is alright”
Shawn’s smirking “oh she’s more than alright”
Kicking his leg under the table “OW”
Visiting an old vinyl shop
Going to the local bakery and trying out all their pies
Playing footsie under the table
“We need to wash our clothes. I’m running out of clothes to wear”
Fooling around in the laundry shop since you two are literally the only people there
You guys go to the weirdest museums
“What the fuck am i looking at”
Visiting a lake
Shawn paddling a boat and having that scene just like in the notebook
Also getting stuck in the middle of the lake because shawn has no sense of direction
HAVING A DRIVE IN MOVIE DATE
Throwing popcorn at each other
Visiting more tourist spots
SHAWN IN A BUCKET HAT HOW CUTE IS THAT
SO MANY POLAROID SHOTS
Last night before you go home you would just camp out in the middle of nowhere looking at the stars finding constellations and talking about your future together
“As long as you’re right beside me i’ll be fine wherever we are”
“Lots of kids. I don’t care how we’re gonna do it but i want a lot of kids”
trying out having sex in the back of the truck in the middle of nowhere
“I feel so exposed right now”
Falling asleep to shawn’s humming
Waking up and getting ready to go back home; long ass drive home
Passing out on your bed when you get home
Shawn takes a pic of you sleeping and keeps that polaroid whenever he’s away on tour; something to keep him by
“I love you so much”
“Thanks for the trip baby. We needed that”
“What can i say? YOLO bitch” “shawn” “sorry”
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orbemnews · 3 years
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It’s Not a Bird or a Plane. It’s a Rocket Ship Roaring in the Backyard. BOCA CHICA, Texas — The text arrived late at night: For your own safety, leave home by morning, it read. Nancy and James Crawford, no longer surprised but still unsettled, raced away in their S.U.V. after sunrise, occasionally twisting their necks to catch a glimpse of the space rocket towering behind them. Moments later, the Crawfords, who are in their 70s, watched from a 12th-floor balcony on South Padre Island, a few miles up the coast, as the rocket shattered on impact during an attempted landing, spreading fiery debris along the sand dunes and tidal flats. The building shook, Mr. Crawford recalled, and in the distance, there was “a ball of fire.” “It was exciting,” echoed his wife, “but too dangerous if we had stayed home.” Home for the Crawfords is a remote coastal community a stone’s throw from Mexico, a village so small that water has to be trucked in. With a single road in that ends at the shoreline, it has long attracted people eager to escape congested cities, and retirees eager to escape the harsh winters of the North and Midwest. From the community tucked among lush wetlands, wildlife refuges and sandy beaches, the nearest supermarket is about 20 miles away, past long stretches of gravel roads and a Border Patrol checkpoint. Until a few years ago, the handful of residents could not have imagined that rockets designed for interplanetary travel would be as much a part of their view as the Rio Grande. But ever since the billionaire Elon Musk brought his private space company, SpaceX, to the area, life has not been the same. A gargantuan gray rocket, surrounded by chain-link fencing less than a mile from the ranch-style brick homes, is a constant reminder that the Crawfords and their remaining neighbors live near a space launching pad. SpaceX representatives usually give the 10 or so residents plenty of warning that a rocket is scheduled for launching. Other times, loud sirens warn them, and some, like the Crawfords, choose to put on heavy-duty headphones to block some of the noise. When a rocket engine is tested, the roar and trembling are so powerful that they can blow windows inward. Humans are not the only species who cower. The earsplitting sound of rockets shrieking above the tidal flats has caused some, such as shorebirds, to flee in terror or to stop nesting in the area altogether. And heavy machinery brought in to retrieve whatever debris has scattered often damages the road and scares away other wildlife, environmentalists said. While the Federal Aviation Administration has given SpaceX environmental clearance for the tests, environmentalists worry that recent explosions could have a lasting effect on the ecologically rich area, home to a number of endangered species, like ocelots and Kemp’s ridley sea turtles. “When you’re testing brand-new technology and brand-new rockets, brand-new engines, stuff like that happens,” said Jim Chapman, president of Friends of the Wildlife Corridor, a nonprofit group with a mission to protect the native habitats of the Rio Grande Valley. “Well, our feeling is, that shouldn’t be happening here.” But the story of how SpaceX came to Boca Chica, about 22 miles from Brownsville, Texas, begins with a promise of a much-needed economic boost to one of the poorest regions in the country. For decades, Brownsville and the broader Rio Grande Valley have struggled with a lack of opportunities and a brain drain, with many college graduates opting to leave for careers elsewhere. Before SpaceX became entrenched in Brownsville’s consciousness, the local economy had relied heavily on jobs with the government, schools, health care and some low-paying retail stores, officials said. Representatives for SpaceX, which is investing a fortune in its quest to send people to Mars, did not respond to a request for comment. But officials of Cameron County, which includes Boca Chica, said the company had infused hope and optimism into the region. When the company announced plans to move to the area in 2014, it promised to create about 500 local jobs, said Eddie Treviño Jr., the Cameron County judge, the county’s top elected official. But as of late last year, he said, the actual figure was more than triple that, with more than 1,600 jobs in construction, clerical and other fields, most of them given to local residents, he said. The benefits to the Brownsville area, where according to the U.S. Census Bureau at least 30 percent of the population lives in poverty, will eventually outweigh whatever tension and disruptions the company has brought, Mr. Treviño said. “We have to balance the good with the bad,” he said. Won’t You Be My Neighbor? The search for the ideal SpaceX launching pad began more than 10 years ago. Sites were considered in other states, including Georgia, California and Alaska, but engineers needed a mostly desolate area close to the ocean. Boca Chica, a retirement community with only a few year-round residents, fit the bill. After SpaceX signed a deal to set up operations near the village, the testing of rockets that would one day reach outer space began a few years later in earnest, Mr. Treviño said. The company has taken a fail-fast, fix-fast approach, which essentially means that engineers use the tests to identify shortcomings in the design and then make adjustments before the next test. Over the past year, those who still live in the community have had to flee before every launch. Four rockets have exploded, spreading debris across the area. (The most recent test, this month, did not result in an explosion, and an elated Mr. Musk took to Twitter to celebrate the milestone: “Starship landing nominal!”) This was not the Crawfords’ idea of a peaceful retirement. Both worked in government jobs in Michigan, him in law enforcement and her with a deeds department. And though they still spend their summers in Michigan, they bought their home in Boca Chica 10 years ago in search of nature and some quiet. Then came the knocks on their door, and on the doors of their neighbors. SpaceX wanted their homes. Representatives with the space giant had appraised the Crawfords’ single-story, three-bedroom brick house at $50,000 and was willing to pay “three times” that, they were told. The Crawfords dismissed what they considered to be a paltry offer from one of the richest men in the world. “We can’t buy a new house with that money,” Mr. Crawford said with a chuckle. Last October, the offers finally stopped. “We are pretty certain that we will be able to remain in our home,” Ms. Crawford said with a sigh of relief. But many of their neighbors, who like them once found Boca Chica the perfect winter oasis, took the checks and left. And one by one, the ranch homes have been replaced by modern white houses with solar-powered rooftops, the occupants younger space professionals who work for SpaceX, local residents said. “You can tell which homes are SpaceX because they are the ones that look the same, a stale white and black,” said Rosemary Workman, 72, who spends most of the year in Boca Chica and has turned down offers to sell her home. One of her new neighbors has stood out. Mr. Musk has been spotted staying in an unassuming ranch-style house. Ms. Workman and her neighbors sometimes see him taking a stroll with two men they assume are part of his security detail. “He doesn’t really make an effort to say hi or get to know us,” said Jim Workman, 75, who lives across the street from the billionaire. The feeling, he admitted, is mutual. He pointed to a flag on his front porch that reads “Come and Take It” below the image of a cannon, the flag fashioned for the Texas Revolution and long a symbol of defiance in the state. “I think he gets the message,” Mr. Workman said. Fuera SpaceX Concerns over SpaceX extend beyond Boca Chica. In downtown Brownsville, Elias Cantu, an activist with the League of United Latin American Citizens, or LULAC, the oldest Mexican-American civil rights organization in the country, stood beside a mural of Mr. Musk that read “Boca Chica to Mars” and shrugged. He said he feared it would be only a matter of time before Boca Chica’s extreme redevelopment found itself encroaching into Brownsville’s poorest neighborhoods. “It’s inevitable,” Mr. Cantu said. “He’ll need homes to house all the people he wants to bring down here. I’m afraid he’s going to push out a lot of low-income families who have lived here for generations.” Xandra Treviño, a member of Fuera SpaceX, an organization pushing back on SpaceX’s rapid expansion (its name translates as Leave SpaceX), said she and many other activists felt ignored by area policymakers. “I feel like people believe that SpaceX is going to be good for the community, when in fact, they are too large to control, too large to hold accountable,” Ms. Treviño said. “Local officials are only seeing money signs. Local officials are star struck.” But area officials said they could not turn away millions of dollars in local investments and the promise of high-paying jobs in a region that for decades has been starved for investment. In the “build it and they will come” philosophy, the space giant has already attracted other employers to the region. Space Channel, an entertainment network devoted to covering space, recently announced that it would move part of its operations from Los Angeles to Brownsville, including six executives, with local positions to follow. Other companies are likely to do the same, said Rose Gowen, who sits on the city commission. “One of the very important things for me to support, and us to support, is growing the wealth,” said Ms. Gowen. Mr. Musk seems to agree. He recently announced on Twitter that he planned to donate $30 million for city revitalization projects and schools. The mayor of Brownsville, Trey Mendez, did not respond to a request for an interview. But in a statement, he said he supported money coming in. “We look forward to a discussion about how this could help our community prosper as we take a front seat to the next chapter of space exploration and innovation,” he said. But that growth is no consolation for the holdout residents of Boca Chica. The Crawfords like to sit in their backyard and admire the several species of birds looking for respite, or the delightful sightings of those migrating. But reminders that they live near a launchpad are never far away. Every now and then, loud sirens startle them, signaling that the testing of rocket engines is about to begin. Or they receive a text asking them to leave their home, a cue that a launch is imminent. When a local sheriff’s vehicle drives by with its sirens on, the Crawfords know they are supposed to run to the street or at least leave their home. They know their windows could shatter. But the last time they heard the siren, on one afternoon this spring, the couple looked at each other and shrugged. “We grew tired of running out,” Ms. Crawford said. This is life near SpaceX, after all. Source link Orbem News #backyard #Bird #plane #roaring #rocket #ship
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realrealguylin · 3 years
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2020 Reflections/Updates
Missions
I did a one week mission trip to Jordan in the start of 2020. I’ve sent out a prayer update letter about that before, please let me know if you want to read it!
Work
Work has been a wild ride over the course of 2020.
After I returned from my Jordan missions trip in the first week of February, there was a flurry of things that happened, so I will try to recount them.
One of my coworkers/supervisors/friends had some tense moments with our director while I was on a trip. This director was actually a substitute director because our actual director was on another project. So she didn’t really have a working relationship with my friend.
Once I got back, the tense moments continued and there was a lot of misunderstandings or just blowing things out of proportion in peoples’ own minds.
This led to my friend resigning from the job. He was able to find work with his mom’s startup/research.
My friend had previously told his mom about working with me, what we do, and I guess this left a strong impression on her about my skills because she called me one time to ask if I wanted a position with her. This was very out of the blue because I wasn’t necessarily looking for another job, I felt comfortable where I was but after my friend left and I was left to work with our sub director, I also personally did not like the direction of the management.
I prayed about it and talked with some people and decided that taking this new position was an open door that God was giving to me.
Currently I work for a startup called Mood Lifters. https://moodlifters.com/ You can read more about it, but we like to call it “Weight Watchers for mental health.” My boss, who is my friend’s mom, is also a professor at UM and developed this program as part of her research. My salary is funded by grants from the UM, actually, as this startup is in partnership with UM for research purposes (so I get health benefits, which I didn’t at my old job).
What I do for the startup is that I manage the data. Considering this is partially research there’s a lot of data. Demographic data, data from surveys our participants take, feedback comments, etc. I put them in a database which I had to develop from scratch, and I help manage the app we contracted a company design. I pull the data when needed and analyze it for my boss when requested. Usually this data is for presenting at presentations she gives or grant requests she is writing. I am the only person doing this, so it’s an important role.
My experience at this job has had its ups and downs. The very first week I started was the first week of quarantine in Michigan... so that was an interesting leg to start on. So I had to get used to working remotely on top of meeting my coworkers and learning the systems we were working with. I also had no idea what I was doing because there was no previous data manager to tell me the state of things so as I said, I was developing everything from scratch, which is what I signed up for.
So there were definitely learning moments - times I made mistakes with the data, times where I wasn’t working at the pace my boss expected (apparently her expectations are so high even her PHD mentees get scared of her), and slow times where I didn’t have much to do. But I learned from these moments and I’m especially thankful for our Science Officer, who is basically my working supervisor. She’s a recent PHD, very chill, and very understanding. We can’t work in the same office, but she’s more on the grounds and I feel like I can have those “quick office meetings” with her. At this point, I’ve reached a good, working rhythm for my role.
So as it is now February, my funding for 1 year was about to expire. It’s actually crazy to me that’s it already been almost a year and that I lasted this long, because there were points in the summer where I definitely felt like I’d get fired because of the difficulties, but praise God we’re here. So this past week I emailed my boss to start the conversation about what will happen going forward - is there more funding or if not, when will I end? To my surprise, my boss called me 5 minutes later saying she already begun the process of getting more funding and I have been approved for at least 6 months, it not more! She also commented that I’ve been doing a good job and that my supervisor really enjoys working with me. All I can say is that I’m thankful that I’ve gotten to this point, because it wasn’t easy and I can’t say that I’m doing a perfect job but I’m thankful because God got me here. I would have never imagined I’d be at a different job a year ago, but this is the story of my life - God always provides at just the right time. I actually found out that at my old job, they started furloughing people due to covid and my position would have been on that list, so I would’ve been unemployed. God always knows best!
Church
Our church has been virtual ever since quarantine started in Michigan. There was a short spurt where we tried to be in person, but for the safety and love of our congregation, we’ve been sticking to virtual. It’s definitely not the same to be virtual, but I do think it challenges us to rework our standards. Church is not just a building after all, and it reminds me of how the early church in Acts was scattered from persecution, so they were physically apart, but the church multiplied, actually, because everyone had different spheres of influence. More on this thought in a second.
At this point last year I wasn’t leading a Life Group. I was just a member, trying to get adjusted to our single adult ministry but still on the Executive Team of our church. I was considering what to do in terms of renewing commitments etc but didn’t feel like I had any convictions yet. That changed one night. Another leader in our church randomly messaged me about how in their LG, a senior was sharing about their plans after graduation. They planned to move back to their home country and pursue their passions of outreach ministry. What does this have to do with me? Well it turns out, I was the person who suggested to them to explore this passion through our Outreach Team in our church because I was the person who was assigning his ministry team in our church. I’ve actually never had a LG with this senior and have had no significant conversations with him since that initial assignment, but even just from that one encounter, it’s changing the course of his life. The leader encouraged me that non of my ministry efforts were in vain. This “random” message really sparked something in me. It reminded me of the joys of discipleship, of walking together with people, and seeing them grow in their talents and passions - having front row seats. And, having a year off from leadership - I really missed having the platform to do that. Not to say you can’t do that without a title, but the platform gives you moments like this. And so I decided I want to commit to that, through our church again. So I’m a LG leader again, in the Focus ministry.
Starting in May 2020, I’ve been leading LGs. For this calendar year, we are doing split gender groups, remotely. It’s definitely... different than what I’ve experienced in the past. I’ve found myself having to really stretch my creative juices to think of ways to foster community in remote ways. So now we do things like virtual birthdays, or group watch parties for Sunday Celebration to simulate “going” together, or having dinner together remotely.
I’ve had a LG in the Summer and one in the Fall. Based on what I shared previously, I really wanted to be involved in people’s lives and their growth. I think Covid has definitely been a hindrance to this, but in addition to that, it looks different with working adults as opposed to college students. It’s true what they say: college is a formative time in someone’s life. They’re still learning about themselves, and figuring who they want to be in this life. So as a leader, you get to see that grow and develop. Post-grad (for most of my members) though, people have gone through that already. Especially in our Focus ministry, where I deem it as a “transition” time for a lot of people. A lot of them are waiting... waiting to get into grad school, waiting for a better job, waiting to move, waiting to get married. But what does it look like to be faithful, now? We actually had a whole Bible study series over the summer about this. All this to say, I’m still trying to figure it out for myself, and then also how to lead others in this stage of life.
I will say, one joy and privilege I do get, is I’ve been paired with various co-leaders who are leading for the first time. Being able to pour in years of experience into them has been very rewarding. Also you get to see potentially a different side to some of them, or you see the talents that God has given them that they might not see for themselves. I even got to lead with someone I discipled while he was an undergrad, and now we’re both in this working adult life stage - God is faithful!
Home Life
Not really sure what to call this miscellaneous section, but I’ll just call it my “home life.”
I believe in my last update I talked about moving off-campus. My roommates and I found a place (basically) across the street and moved again in May. We each have our own room now, and the place is quite spacious. I personally don’t have any problems with having a roommate, but the others wanted their own space. This is my first (?) time not having a roommate, actually. I understand why people like it so much. You can go to sleep and wake up whenever you want without disturbing someone and you can keep the room as clean or as dirty as you want. Also we each get our own bathroom so that’s comfy, too.
Like many others, I have been working from some since quarantine started. I’ve set up a desk near the living room. I just enjoy being out there as opposed to being cooped up in my room. It’s brighter, more lively, and I get to see the roommates past by once in a while. The only downside is if I have a meeting at night - I have to move to my room with no desk to answer the Zoom call.
My roommates have been working from home too. It’s a stark contrast against when all three of us would be commuting to work. It feels like instead of having lived with them for 2 years, It’s been 10 years. When you see a person not just everyday, but many hours per day, you’ve accelerated the timeline. I’m thankful for that, though, because who knows when they’ll move so getting time to get to know them now is a silver lining while being forced to work from home.
At first, when you work from home, it feels like a gift.. but then soon you realize if you don’t set limits for yourself, “home” will always feel like a potential arena for “work” and then you never really leave mentally.. It’s a good test of work-life balance. I think I’ve gotten into a decent routine and have a rough schedule everyday so I can be consistent and when I “get off” work, I’m mentally relaxed.
Outside of working and online church, I don’t do much. There are literally spans of 4-5 days, up to a week, where I don’t set foot outside. And then I’ll go out to drive my car for something and it hits me “wow, this is my first time outside in a week.” I’ve been watching a lot of anime shows with my roommate. This is a rough list of everything I’ve ever watched, some within the last year as well as my current watches https://myanimelist.net/animelist/linguy?status=2.
I’ve also been playing a lot of video games, I made a list here as well... https://howlongtobeat.com/user?n=GeneralTso&s=games&completed=1
Every few weeks I visit my mom since my weekends aren’t occupied with going to church. She’s doing well, she works part time at a restaurant, and it’s all takeout. Im working on getting her scheduled for a vaccine.
On the Horizon
This would be the section where I put things I look forward to... but it’s hard to make any long term plans for now.
I guess... I’m looking forward to the day when I can start looking forward to things- when we can start planning trips, we can freely watch movies in theaters, or have birthday parties, or eat restaurants.
Until then, I’m just being faithful with what I have.
Prayer Requests
Pray for our return to normalcy.
Pray for vision for the future. I know of some friends who are going to various countries to do missions for a short-term and thinking about doing that lights a fire under me to not just settle but keep fanning the flame.
Pray for peace. Recently I feel like God is giving me peace about just where I’m at in life, but it’s still very easy to compare life circumstances with others around my age. I want to believe that I’m right where God wants me to be.
Thanks for reading so far! Here are some pictures I dug up
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Christmas Hot Pot!
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Some of us in Focus did shopping for to partner with a charity
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“Socially distant” LG Close Outs
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Covid Birthday Parties
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DIAMOND (CEO AU Baekhyun Series) Part 12
Also on AFF
Diamond Mini Masterlist
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Photo not mine, found it on Google.
Author: @julietsoddeye​ AU: CEO!Baekhyun Genre: Angst | Smut | Romance  Pairing: Baekhyun x Lee Soojin (You/OC) [Written as if the reader is the OC] Trigger Warning: None in this chapter Word Count: 3,198
Plot: After 10 years of exile to another country, you are finally back home and you were surprised to find out that you are engaged to the son of your father’s long-time friend and business partner.
On this Chapter:
Hisako returns her attention to you.
“Tell me Sooj, how will you raise a child without love? That child’s life will be miserable is Baekhyun fails to be the good father it deserves.”
“Hisa, stop!”
“I will never let that happen!!!”
You defended as you now cross your arms over your chest. You stomp your feet on the ground, the sound of the grass ruffles under your sandals.
“GUYS!!!”
Yanmei interrupts.
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You wake up to a voice of a female softly calling for your name. You stretch your arms and legs and frisks your hands to the spot beside you. It was empty. Empty of the man you were with the night before. You finally open your eyes, hoping that Baekhyun is standing somewhere in the room. Wishing that what happened last night was not a dream.
You found Mia standing beside the open door with a welcoming face. You push the heavy duvet down to find out that you’re still wearing the robe and your underwear beneath it. You inhaled and exhaled heavily your disappointment growing and along a headache with it. Fuck, why did you drink too much Champagne last night? Champagne hangovers are the worst!
“What time is it, Mia?”
You ask as you cradle your throbbing brain, trying to relieve some tension by massaging your temples with your fingers. The clock is literally just at the bedside, but you’re too hungover to function properly.
“It’s only 8:02 AM, Soojin-ssi. You still have time freshen up before breakfast with the newlyweds.”
Fuck, Minseok did mention about breakfast last night. And where the hell is Baekhyun, why didn’t he wake you up? Did he even sleep here beside you last night? Was it really just a dream?
“Where’s Baekhyun?”
You ask Mia who is now pushing a rack of clothes near the bed. The tiny rack is full of flowy summer dresses with different brightly colored prints of flowers and shapes for you to choose from.
“He’s already on his way downstairs to meet everyone for breakfast. He told me to wake you up and give you this...”
Mia answers as she slides a bottle of ibuprofen and a little folded note on the bedside table. You look at it for a while, silently thanking Baekhyun in your mind for the ibuprofen. But why would he leave a note when he could have just woken you up himself. ‘Ugh, he’s so weird,’ you thought to yourself while standing up from bed with a loud yawn as you extend your arms again for another stretch.
“Thank you, Mia.”
Grabbing the items, you stood up and locked yourself in the bathroom. You set the note and the bottle of drugs down on the bathroom sink top to look at yourself in the mirror. ‘Fuck, I look like shit.’, you whisper to yourself as you grab Baekhyun’s note again to read it.
You probably will have a hangover, so here’s some ibuprofen. Sorry about your neck.
-B.B.H
Wait, what happened to your neck? You crane your neck left and right to check if you have a stiff neck. But you didn’t, that’s weird. When you accidentally looked in the mirror again, you see a tiny purple-looking spot on the skin of your neck that wasn’t covered by the cotton material of the robe you are wearing. You immediately pull the tie around your waist, wringing open the robe to find more purple and some reddish-brown bruises scattered around not just your neck, but also your collarbone and shoulders.
“M—MIA!!!”
You scream out loud, panic rises from your feet, that was bare on the cold marble flooring of the bathroom, up to your spine. A rush of dread spreads around your body, heightening your already pulsating head.
“Soojin-ssi, what happened?!?! Are you okay?!?!”
Mia keeps frantically knocking on the bathroom door; alarm is obvious in her voice. Her furious beating on the door only stopped when you unlocked the knob and she pushes her way in. Finding you with flushed cheeks and your hand gently tracing the bruises on your chest.
“I— What…”
Mia was lost for words when she sees you look fine and unharmed. She touches your arms for you to wake up from what’s bothering you.
“Mia, how— How do I cover these?”
You left your mouth hanging open. Mia closes her eyes in relief as she sighs out, slumping her tensed shoulders down finally.
“I thought you slipped, or something. Please don’t scare me like that again, Soojin-ssi.”
“I obviously can’t wear a turtleneck in the middle of summer, can I?”
You ignored what she said. You heard Mia giggle a little bit and she tucks a few strands of hair behind your ears that were equally as red as your whole face. You almost look like a tomato with how flustered you are because of the hickeys you have.
“Go shower now, Soojin-ssi. Good thing I brought my makeup kit with me today.”
Mia smiled at you in a sisterly manner and pushes for you to go take a shower to start your day.
After your quick ablution, Mia fixed you up as if Baekhyun ruined you. Well, maybe he did ruin you physically, but the sweet gesture behind the bottle of ibuprofen was enough to appease your tensions about the ugly blotches he left on your skin.
Mia brushed your hair, put it up in a nice ponytail, teased and curl the end making it bounce beautifully when you move your head. Mia then focused her attention on your hickeys and pulls out three different kinds of color correctors and some concealers in her makeup pouch.
You look in the mirror, your mouth wide open with a happy grin. Mia is definitely a life-saver, she saved you from embarrassing teasings you know you will get from Baekhyun friends if they saw the bruises Baekhyun marked on your skin. Especially Sehun, that annoying scourge!
With the last touch, Mia finally settles inside a pouch the makeup brush she used to apply the translucent powder over the light layer of tinted moisturizer on your face. You wonder what Mia can’t do because she’s really good at everything and doesn’t fail to help you with.
“Mia, oh my gosh, Mia! It’s—It’s like the hickeys weren't there in the first place!”
You gently brush your fingers over your skin, careful not to wipe the makeup off.
“You’re so good!”
You added and Mia smiles shyly and the apples of her cheeks flushed lightly.
“Thank you. I learned to cover bruises when I was taking self-defense classes in college. My girlfriends and I would all go home purple from all the accidental hits we caused ourselves.”
Mia giggles slightly at the memory of her not so distant youth. She’s not even that much older than your brother, yet the way she stands, walk and act gives off that mature aura on her.
“Wow, I didn’t know you took self-defense classes. That’s awesome.”
Mia smiled sweetly again as she starts packing her stuff back to a bag.
“Mia, how do I look? Do I look hungover?”
You ask Mia as you face her while you smoothen the white linen with black printed flowers sundress you chose. This particular dress was highly suggested by Mia herself since it’s super lightweight and will help you stay cool since it’s already hot out, but the semi-low neckline discouraged you. Mia assured you that she will cover your hickeys very well, and she did.
“Do you feel hungover?”
She asks back.
“Well, thanks to the ibuprofen, I feel a lot better now.”
“You look fantastic, Soojin-ssi. Should we go down now for your breakfast with the newlyweds?”
You beam up at her as you nod your head enthusiastically. You can feel this is going to be an awesome day.
~~~
The private breakfast on the rooftop garden of the Byun Hotel went really well. It was, as expected, full of banters and waves of laughter thanks to Baekhyun, Sehun, Chanyeol, and Jongdae. The only thing weird was that the normally and boisterously loud Yanmei was super silently and pouty. She keeps shooting daggers across Hisako’s direction. And the usually confident and head always held high Hisako keeps avoiding Yanmei’s gawk.
Once in a while, Jongdae would caress Yanmei’s cheek with the back of his hand so that she would relax and stop her angry stare. Yanmei would immediately melt at Jongdae’s touch, but she would resume the evil looks back at Hisako once the magic subsided.
Baekhyun, on the other hand, couldn’t keep his hands to himself. He would constantly hold your hand or will grab your thighs under the table. The first time he did it, you were so startled that you slightly jumped to your seat, hitting your knees on the table.
Everyone at the table asked if you were okay, Minseok’s wife was especially worried. Her face twisted as if she was the hurt and not you. You have to lie to them that you felt something brushed your feet and it surprised you. And they concluded that it must be a random leaf which was scattered around.
Baekhyun, the asshole just keeps on giggling at you and your flustered state as you lie to your peers. And he never stopped fiddling and playing with you throughout breakfast. Ever since getting back in Seoul from the vacation, his acting in front of everyone has skyrocketed. What has he eaten? Was he poisoned? Have you thoughtlessly poisoned him?
Or has he… No way… Has he fallen for you too?
“How the progress of the second branch of your school, Junmyeon Hyung?”
Baekhyun asks Junmyeon across the table from him. His hand still keeps tracing shapes on your thighs as you all eat the breakfast dessert that was served after your meal.
“We’re doing really great. The buildings and classrooms were checked last week by the local and international board of Education, we passed with excellent quality of the whole school. We will be operational and in full service by next school year.”
“My father mentions you’re still looking for school staff over dinner conversations one time.”
Jongdae intercalates suddenly, wolfing down the dessert as if he hasn’t eaten anything before that. Yanmei giggles slightly as she wipes the sugary syrup off the side of Jongdae’s lips with a table napkin. He returns her a charming and gratified smile for the sweet gesture.
“Yeah, we are one short of an Educator. Doesn’t matter if they are experienced or not, it’s not hard to train anyway. We have all the facilities for that.”
“How about Yanmei-ssi? She has a Master’s degree in Special Education, am I right Yanmei-ssi?”
Baekhyun beams and Yanmei looks up with the mention of her name. Jongdae’s eyes widen in realization and immediately, his lips open up in a huge grin.
“Me?”
“Oh right, we even talked about it last night. Why didn’t I think of asking you.”
Junmyeon pans his attention to Yanmei’s direction and displays a smile for her.
“Are you offering me a job?”
Yanmei’s right hand goes up to her left chest, her face full of overwhelm of the job proposal.
“Yeah, why not. You seem like you’re really passionate about it. Didn’t you say you have a special needs sister?”
“I do. But wouldn’t it be difficult for the both of us if you’re going to hire someone who lives overseas?”
“That’s not going to be a problem. I can hire people who can help do the necessary process for us.”
Junmyeon assures Yanmei.
“You can even enroll your sister in our school if you like.”
Junmyeon offers. Yanmei’s jaw drops with the very generous bid.
“So you can finally be with me!”
Both you and Jongdae suddenly shout out loud with how happy you are. Everyone at the table laughs while you and Jongdae stare at each other in wonder after shouting the same, exact words.
“Yanmei-ssi, you’re such player! I didn’t know you fool around with both genders?”
Sehun jokes, causing more laughs from your peers. Jongdae attempts at standing up from his seat to give Sehun a smack upside the head, but Yanmei stops him while in a giggle fit.
After the newlyweds left for their 2-month long honeymoon cruise, Baekhyun decided to give you, Hisako, and Yanmei a tour of the hotel. You’ve been here a lot of times, but you know Baekhyun felt the tension between Hisako and Yanmei so he asked the three of you to walk with him to have some privacy.
Yanmei refused at first, saying she’s too full and tired to even move a finger. But after a little convincing from you and Jongdae offering to join made her say yes.
Chanyeol has to literally haul Hisako out of her seat when she didn’t move. Weirdly, she just let the giant guy pull her up. Hisako never lets any man be in close proximity to her, why is she just letting Chanyeol touch her so easily like this? Thinking about it, where did she even sleep last night? Did Chanyeol drive her back home?
“I’ll try and distract Jongdae and Chanyeol away from the two so you can talk to them.”
Baekhyun suddenly slides next to you and whispered in your ear. His arm snakes around your waist as you walk around the pool area of the hotel. Guests and their children are already enjoying the swimming pool under the scorching sun. His unexpected gesture made you almost jump out of your wits again.
“I— Okay.”
Baekhyun gives your cheeks a chaste kiss before prancing to where the four were, separately walking by twos, Jongdae and Yamei and Chanyeol and Hisako. Your heart leaps up and you can feel the same knots on your stomach, just like last night. Fuck if he’s going to be this sweet, this better be permanent, you thought to yourself.
You saw Yixing and Sunmi in the corner of your eyes, they were seated by the bar of the pool area. It looks like they just got there from their walk themselves. Sunmi and Yixing routinely walk around the garden of your home every morning. If it’s not Yixing, it’s either your mom or Soojung who walks with Sunmi.
Yixing saw you and immediately waves as his lips wide with a happy smile. Sunmi waves as well, looking in a different direction and Yixing giggles at her. You smiled as well and waves back at them. When Yixing whispered something in Sunmi’s ear, her cheeks flush and she tucks her hair behind her ear. Just confess to him already Sunmi, you whispered to yourself.
“Where are you going?”
You crane your neck in front of you to the direction of Yanmei’s voice. Baekhyun, Chanyeol, and Jongdae are walking back to your direction. Baekhyun secretly winks at you as Yanmei keeps whining for Jongdae on the spot where they left her. Hisako way ahead all of you, also frozen to her spot.
“I’ll be back baby. We’ll just get ice cream, okay?”
Jongdae shouts back to Yanmei while Baekhyun drags him.
“What ice cream flavor you want?”
Baekhyun asks you when the three passes by.
“The three of us likes green tea flavored ice cream.”
“So Asian of you.”
Chanyeol snorts and you squint your eyes in a mocking manner.
“No shit, Chanyeol. We’re all Asians.”
“We’ll meet you in the garden for the ice cream.”
Baekhyun said and you nod your head in understanding. You caught up with Yanmei and linked your left arm with her right one, pulling her to the direction of Hisako. Hisako started walking forward again when she saw you two advancing.
“Wait up!”
You call to Hisako and thankfully she stopped walking to wait for you. You reach out your other arm and linked it with her when you caught up. Walking arm to arm, you in the middle, with your best friends. You heard them sigh out, wasn’t able to refuse you.
“The boys will get us ice cream.”
You grin as you drag your two stubborn best friends to the direction of the garden. It was a relief that every guest was enjoying in the pool area and it is significantly quiet in the gardens. The only people in there were a few staff taking care of the plants and the three of you.
You found a bench under a shaded part of the garden, you hauling the two over the pew and sat them there as you stood over them. Both are facing each other’s backs, their arms crossed over their chest. Yanmei has a permanent scowl on her face, while Hisako’s have a similar one, but mixed with guilt.
“So… Last night...”
You trail your words and the two waited for you to speak again. You groan slightly to clear your throat before continuing.
“I slept with Baekhyun last night.”
You added as you gulped bravely. Immediately, Yanmei and Hisako’s jaws simultaneously fall with the unsolicited atomic bomb you just dropped on them. None of the two spoke or reacted for a few seconds and you can’t help but get nervous and fidgets your hands in apprehension.
Yanmei opens her mouth again to speak but closes it immediately when she can’t express out her words properly. She then all of a sudden held on to Hisako’s arm as if she knew Hisako will blow up or something.
Hisako pans her attention to Yanmei who was shaking her head left and right. Hisako looks back at you, her face glowers some more, you can tell she’s holding back herself from scolding you.
“Did you at least used a condom?”
You can see the invisible smoke coming out of Hisako’s nose and ears as she asked the question.
“Of course! Who do you think I am?”
You put your hand on your chest; the hurt is obvious in your tone as you scoff at what Hisako said to you.
“Amano Hisako!!!”
Yanmei reprimands. Hisako looks at Yanmei who was pouting at her as if her life depends on it.
“I’m just making sure. What if Soojin suddenly gets pregnant?”
Hisako returns her attention to you.
“Tell me Sooj, how will you raise a child without love? That child’s life will be miserable is Baekhyun fails to be the good father it deserves.”
“Hisa, stop!”
“I will never let that happen!!!”
You defended as you now cross your arms over your chest. You stomp your feet on the ground, the sound of the grass ruffles under your sandals.
“GUYS!!!”
Yanmei interrupts.
“Why are we even talking about an unborn child?”
Hisako fumes.
“I don’t know, you started it!”
You fume back.
“Okay, okay. I’m sorry…”
Hisako softens and slumps on the bench. You sigh out and swallowed your own pride. You know she’s just concerned about you and your welfare. That’s just how Hisako reacts when you or Yanmei makes stupid decisions. But what you and Baekhyun did last night wasn’t stupid… At least that’s what you think.
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I was talking about schooling today. And I started to think back to my experiences with school. In the beginning of 8th grade, my Dad took me out of public school and started me on "home schooling". He ordered the books from a company called "Christian Light". That fizzled out pretty quickly. My Dad stayed so busy with work, to support our family of 5 (two grown brothers, never worked). He didn't have time to grade my work. And my Mom and brothers could care less. I asked them a few times, they acted like I was being "silly" by asking. I gave up on that. I did some of the work, then checked in the answer key book, to see how I did. Eventually, I did feel silly, why do it at all, with noone wanting to be the "teacher". So, it stopped.
I did, however, graduate at 17, with a program where I graduated through the high school I would have went to. My scores were pretty high, surprisingly (because, basically I had  2nd grade education....i'll get to that later). I went on to finish a year of college (mostly A's, did very well). I didn't go back, because I had some health issues. I tried it again, and dropped soon after I started, when my oldest brother died. I couldn't handle it. I couldn't handle anything. I had dream. I wanted to become  clinical psychologist and have my own practice. I had originally wanted to go for psychiatry. But, how could I make it through med school? I wanted to, but I think i'm too scatter brained with the bipolar, ptsd and anxiety. I had so many dreams in life, once. 
Anyway......back on track... School was always hard on me. I didn't go to preschool. I should have. It would have helped me get used to socializing, and routine/structure. I skipped straight to 1st grade, no kindergarten. I feel it was more difficult for me to adjust to school, for this reason. The other kids had some experience with "school". All I knew about school was the stories about how bad it is, how my brother hated school, dropped out early. My Mom dropped out in 5th grade. School sounded horrible and scary. 
My first day of school was rough. My Mom and Dad took me to school, into the classroom. I remember it all so well.. My name on my desk, the frogs everywhere. There was even a little frog tent. lol My teacher was obsessed with frogs. She was so sweet, though. Anyway, I clearly remember my parents telling me that they would be "right back", they were going to "get some coffee". I waited, I wondered where they were and why they didn't come back for me. Did they lie to me? Were they ever coming back? Did something happen to them? I was scared. I felt abandoned. So long as I live, I will never forget how I felt that day. 
First grade wasn't easy for me. I was NOT used to structure, at all. My home life was chaotic, no routine whatsoever. My teacher paired every kid up with another kid, so we would all have a "friend". I remember the little girl I was paired up with. This little girl with a pixie haircut named Shawna. She was friendly. But I really couldn't identify with her. She would talk about Peewee Herman, kids shows, and kid things. I didn't know much about kid stuff. Most of the time, I watched tv and movies that were for adults.. Sitcoms (mostly old shows), movies (not kid's movies).. I rarely watched Sesame Street (tv's were occupied by someone watching the news, etc).. And Fragle Rock (spelling?). Anyway, back to the point.. I was used to talking to adults. I wasn't used to talking to kids, playing with kids, etc.. There were hardly ever kids around when I was really young. I had two friends when I was 2 and 3. I didn’t get to be around the first friend very often. The 2nd one, a boy named Lance. We were close. It really hurt when we moved away. He liked to just sit and talk a lot of the time, just like I did. Then, when I was 5, I took up with a little elderly neighbor named Dorothy, she lived next door to us. I loved her. She gave me an old doll, a bride doll. I think her dress and flowers were white and purple, if i’m remembering right. My memory for colors is bad. My first real female friend around my age, her name was Desiree and lived across the street from me when I was 6. But, I still had  difficult time identifying with other children. Her, in particular...She had a vivid imagination, and liked to play fairy tale type stuff. I did not. lol I felt like it was silly. I had made an older friend, also when I was 6. She was 11 or 12. We would talk, listen to music, sing. We got along great. Until my Mom intervened and ended my friendship with her. Kids my age.....it was foreign to me.
I couldn't talk in school. At all. Not intentionally. I never knew it had a named, until a few years ago. It's called "selective mutism". It's a serious anxiety issue. I could talk, yell and be a wild child at home. Not a problem. But, at school.....not so much. When I would try to speak, it come out as an inaudible whisper. Other kids thought something was wrong with me. Teachers and school officials that I had autism. Which angered my Mom! She was so upset at the thought that people would think I was autistic, and I would be in trouble for not being able to speak. As if I were doing it on purpose. The teacher would call on me to read, and I couldn't talk. I was then put in special reading class, because they thought I was struggling to read. I started reading the newspaper at barely 5 years old. Reading was not the issue. I didn't mind being in special reading though, this boy named Nicolas was also in the class and would so things to make me laugh, and only me. I felt special, and he was my first big crush. lol Baaaaaack to the point (I tend to get off track and ramble!). Anyway, I even urinated on myself twice, because I could speak to ask to go to the restroom. It was bad.
My Mom told the teacher that I was a completely different child at home. So, she asked if she could take me home from school one day, to see how I acted at home. I remember that day, well. She was astonished, I was actually talking, not the quiet, odd behaving child that I was in school. Noone could understand it. Selective mutism was either unheard of or rarely heard of in the 1980s. It wasn't until well into my adult life that I found an article about it, and was ecstatic. I finally had a name, and a reason, for my odd behavior. I knew I wasn't alone, it wasn't just something "weird" about me. I had a reason for the behavior.
I called it "extreme shyness". It lasted through 5th grade. A little less severe by the third grade. And, in the 5th grade, I had a good teacher. He helped me feel a little more comfortable, and speak more. I still struggled with anxiety and shyness, all through school. All through my life, actually. 
Anyway, by late 2nd grade, I started not wanting to go to school. More than before. (I never wanted to get up and go to school). I was missing school, not doing homework and barely doing school work IN school. Everyone thought I was being defiant. The teacher were mad at me, my family was mad at me. Everyone was mad at me, and it made everything even worse. The school started to talk to me Mom, she started getting angry and defensive toward school officials. She was livid at me for putting her through it. I was having trouble. I couldn't sleep at night. I couldn't sleep alone, I would have severe anxiety, and i'd hear the loud tv going, loud voices (laughing or fighting, depending on the night). I had a very insecure attachment to my Mother, and I would beg her to come to bed, so I could sleep. She would get annoyed at me, and she's be up until 1 and 2 in the morning. So of course, so was I. Then, getting up early for school was so hard. I couldn't sleep at night, could hardly wake up in the morning. During school, I couldn't concentrate. My mind would be on going home, or things that were going on at home, often times it was the loud arguments that were going on the night before. I was a mess. 
After 4th grade, we moved across the country to Martinsburg, WV. It was all very different from what I was used it. I had lived in Casper Wyoming for a few years. The other kids even seemed different to me, the school was very different, it was just weird to me. It didn't help that I started a couple months into the school year, made my shyness/anxiety worse. The teacher was a nice guy, he helped me be a little less shy. But, the next year, it was middle school. This big, multi-level school. Lockers. No friends, didn't know anyone. It was scary and intimidating to me. I remember walking down those halls, feeling lost, no idea where I was going, what I was doing. Once i'd find my class, it just felt different, I didn't feel like I belonged. I couldn't concentrate, all I could think about was getting out of there, going home. I missed a lot of school (started missing school early, though, around 2nd/3rd grade). Not long into the school year, we were moving again. Moved back to Wyoming. This time, my Mom was tired of the public school system, blaming it for all the problems. So, they put me in a Catholic private school, late in the school year. So, again, I was starting late, no friends, didn't know anyone. I made one friend pretty quickly though. We became pretty close. Until my Mom had an argument with her Mom, and ended our friendship (See a pattern? She ended a lot of my friendship, she didn't seem to want me to have friends). Anyway, that school and that time in my life was traumatizing. I still have nightmares (I mean this literally) about that school from time to time.
That school year was difficult. Not that the others weren't. But, I didn't have much in common with anyone. I was missing school. I wasn't doing my assignments. My teacher disliked me, I believe she felt I was being defiant, by not doing my school work. But, I was distracted. I couldn't concentrate. My mind was racing, a million different thoughts. I wanted to do better in school, but I really couldn't. The principal had several meetings with my Mother. I remember one in particular, I was sitting right there and she told me Mom that I wouldn't graduate and i'd never amount to anything. I will never forget that. Soon after, she told me to get my school supplies from my desk and come to the office. She took me to this small room, the size of a closet. It was used as an office, boxed and papers all around me. A spot cleared off on a desk and a chair. That was my new classroom. The office worker would come check on me a few times each day, and ask if I had to use the restroom. Other than that, I was alone. I will admit, I did get more done on assignments without all the distractions I had in the classroom and without the severe anxiety of being around all those kids who seemed to look down on me. But, to be locked in a tiny room, secluded from people. That was not right. I felt like an animal being locked up, and even locking an animal in a large closet would be inhumane. 
Next year, started junior high. The beginning of 7th grade wasn't so bad. Over the summer, I had made some friends at the skating rink, and one of them was in my grade. So, at least I knew someone in the new school. I made friends. I was pretty distant with a lot of the people that tried to befriend me, but it was difficult for me to open up to new people and let them into my life. I heard people say I was stuck up. Far from it, just really shy and dealing with anxiety and some issues. Anyway, I had to best friends at that school. Then, at the end of the first semester, I had a falling out with them. After Christmas, when we went back to school, they were treating me like trash. Other kids were acting weird with me, giving me looks. Then, my Dad was diagnosed with lung cancer. I started to gain weight. My Mom banned me from being around another of my close friends, she was like a little sister to me. It was a bad time in my life. I started missing a lot of school. I was held back a year. And the school was threatening to charge my Mom with educational neglect. 
The next year, 7th grade again... Starting over. Knowing noone. Kids who I should have went into the 8th grade with, laughing and whispering about me. There were some harsh kids. I was bullied for my weight. I became quiet again. Had a hard time talking when I was at school. I was stressed about my Dad, stressed about family issues, stressed about school. I couldn't concentrate, I was dealing with depression. I missed a lot of school, and of course, didn't do many of my assignments. Teachers were frustrated with me. Principal was angry. My Mom was threatening to send me to a foster home (she started threatening that when I was 9 or 10). I barely made it through 7th grade. The principal actually made it so that I had 1/2 day of school - morning until lunch, to have the basic classes (math, english, science an social studies). I was still struggling to deal with school. And home.
8th grade... I gained a LOT of weight by this time (265 pounds at the time). The school nurse pushed me into joining a "overweight" support group. Which was embarrassing. She was visiting my home, having discussions with my family about me. My Mom was called into the school for meetings to discuss me. . I was being bullied by this boy in my science class. He was beyond harsh. I had been bullied all through school, but not like that. I would sit in front of me in class, and turn around to taunt me. Most of the class would laugh, and that would encourage him to keep going. One day, I was already feeling bad. And he started making the same remarks about my weight. But, he went further. He told me that noone likes me, even my own family hates me. That I should just do everyone a favor and kill myself......among other things. At the time, I was having serious family issues, and I actually FELT like my family couldn't stand me, like I was in the way and I was nothing but a problem for them. I was already feeling suicidal. Several times previous, I had talked to the teacher about it. He was normally a fun, silly teacher, and of course he seemed to favor the jocks (and this guy WAS a jock). So, he'd tell me to toughen up, it's just words. That day, some of the other kids told him he's going too far.. And I stood up an walked out of the class room. I was tempted to walk out of the school, but instead, I went to the principal's office. Again, I was told it's just words, that I was making too much out of it. Go back to class. Instead, I went to the nurse's office. I was able to lay down (they had 3 cots for kids that were sick or injured) for the rest of that class. 
I spent a lot of time in the nurse office. She would let me lay down in the cot with the curtain pulled during lunch period, that started in the 2nd year of 7th grade. I wouldn't eat (didn't feel like eating, and I didn't eat in the morning, I waited until I went home), all I would do is take a couple caffeine pills that I had to sneak to school, to make it through the day. I dreaded the end of the lunch period. I just wanted to be home, or anywhere other than school. 
One day, during choir, I was called to the office. My brother was there and told me i'm going home. When we got in the car, he told me that our Grandmother passed away. I never returned to school. My Dad told the school I was being home schooled. And they never checked up on it.
I consider myself to be "self taught". Everything I know, I taught myself reading books, and on the internet. I would consider myself to be fairly intelligent, and though I didn't participate in school most of my life and basically dropped out in the 8th grade - I do not consider myself to be uneducated. I've always have the desire to learn. And, so I have. I do wish I had an easier time in school and in life, and could have learned everything I needed to learn in school. I still lack in some knowledge, such as, I can't do algebra. I have tried to learn it, but I confuse myself. lol And, I missed out on the whole high school experience. I didn't have a prom. Instead, I spent what should have been my high school years partying, drinking, getting into trouble. I just went wild after losing my Dad. He passed away a month before I turned 16. Between losing my Dad, dealing with family issues for so long and my own issues (I feel I had Bipolar for several year before my diagnoses) - I just went completely out of control. I didn't care about anything. Didn't care about life, didn't care about death. Made a lot of bad decisions, put myself into a lot of dangerous situations. I didn't care what happened to me. I didn't feel like anyone else really did, either. 
*If anyone is reading this, and if you are a parent or plan to be a parent.. Socialize your kids early. They need to learn how to be around other kids, play with other kids and how to talk to other kids. Otherwise, they will be at an extreme disadvantage and other kids will think they are the "weird kid". And if you have a child who doesn't speak at school or in other social place,  read about selective mutism. It's an extreme form of anxiety, and a child should never be made to feel "weird" or have an angry parent or teacher over it. It's not defiance. It's an actual problem. Anger will ONLY make it worse. Also, routine an stability, from a very young age, is so much more important than you may realize. It kills me to think of a child going through what I went through. 
I honestly doubt anyone actually reads this blog. lol It’s long, rambling blogs. And it’s mostly just personal memories and feelings that I share. Even if noone reads them, they are very important and personal to me. It’s kinda a therapy for myself. I have to get these memories and feelings out of my head. 
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psotu19 · 6 years
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People's State of the Union Address Tuesday January 30th, 2018 Light Club Lamp Shop Burlington, Vermont
People’s State of the Union Address
Tuesday January 30th, 2018
Light Club Lamp Shop
Burlington, Vermont
  Share a story about an experience that gave you insight into the state of our union
Share a story about a time that you felt a sense of belonging, or the opposite, to this nation or your community
Share a story of an experience that gave you hope in the past year
  Hi everyone! Honestly, I’m so happy to be here with everybody today on such an important day. [1:56] My name is Devin Alejandro-Wilder. I’ve lived in Burlington for the past six years and attended at a local liberal arts college for four of those six years. I’m a working artist and I was born queer & disabled and i live in an independent co-op in the Old North End with seven other friends, two kitchens and 3 cats. In this past year, I was fortunate enough that my little sister raised the $5,000 needed to get myself a hearing aid, and it’s been extraordinarily helpful. Let me tell you, hearing footsteps and secrets and whispers has been something that I’ve never been able to experience before. [2:47] While the prosthetic that I use has a lot of faults, my friends certainly don’t, because they always help me keep track of it. It’s really small and black, and it’s meant to be invisible I guess, like myself… But, my buddies see me take it off, and they see me put it on, and turn up the volume and turn down the volume, and they never forget. They repeat questions, sentences, jokes, and punchlines and I don’t have to fake laughter so much anymore. I didn’t used to tell people that I had a disability because I firmly believe that we are told that we’re not supposed to tell people this. We’re just supposed to ‘pass’ and ‘make it work’. But when I did get my prosthetic, there was no more hiding what was going on, because people could see it pretty clearly. Even though it’s small and meant to be invisible, there’s nothing invisible about a piece of robotic technology attached to your my skull (especially when you have weird hair like mine). So, I just want to thank them, constantly, for their patience and understanding and seeming infinite kindness, because while I have employers who look at me differently for my disability, my friends don’t and that gives me hope every single day. Thank you [4:09]
  [4:32] Hi, I’m Max Engle-Strike. I moved to Burlington in May at age 29 to become a brewer, because Vermont beer is so good. I moved from across the country, which gave me a unique perspective on seeing anti-trump sentiment on all sides of the country. It also gave me an insight into the state of our union, which is that it is extremely scattered, and shattered, and torn and divided, in that not even people who are against Trump can agree on how to be against Trump. The story I want to share is about my brother, with whom I am extremely close but we disagree often, to the extent that we were talking about policies in the United States vs the Russia probe as it came down to letting Jeff Sessions being in place or getting expelled. He was in favor of making sure the Russian investigation was completed, those responsible are punished, and that Trump is held accountable for soliciting, confusing Facebook ads. I was extremely disturbed by the policies that the attorney general was putting in place, bringing back mandatory minimums, recriminalizing marijuana, bringing back racist and divisive rhetoric in a way that hasn’t been seen in decades (for good reason) [6:00]and it really scared me that to him, it’s more important to take down a figurehead than to remember that these policies are affecting thousands of Americans every day. So, in wondering how to proceed in the next three years, let’s not miss the forest for the trees: let’s not focus on just the figurehead, let’s focus on the community and each other [6:25] Sorry, Benny, but I’m not with you on this one. That’s my story.
  [6:47] My name is Jane, I’m a graduate student here in Burlington. I’ve been here for six years (I moved here from Boston) and I’m 23 years old. I think that, back in 2016, when everything changed in a really big way, I became very disheartened and sort of felt unempowered about being involved in politics. It wasn’t until really this year that I started looking for pieces of hope and wisdom in my local community, and recognizing that there’s tremendous potential for us to organize in really small ways. Really, the personal is political, the local is global, and so by us meeting here today and actually having these conversations, we are setting an example for people all over the country to do the same thing. [7:45] So, while the conversations that you have with your neighbors or in your classrooms or with your friends and family may feel insignificant, they are part of a greater dialogue, and we really do have the potential to change things. Thank you all for being here.
  I’m Hallie Berksengold. I’ve been in Burlington for almost nine years now. [8:28] I’m originally from the New York City area, and it’s actually kind of become a little joke in my identity about how I’m a Vermonter in a group of New Yorkers and a New Yorker in a group of Vermonters, and that dichotomy almost rules how I look at things and approach the world a lot of the time. So, I’ve been up here for a long time (oh, by the way, I’m 26). I grew up in a—I wouldn’t call it a super religious, but relatively, comparatively observant—Jewish household. I was raised not quite as religious as a lot of other New York Jews that I knew (and I know a lot), but we followed every major holiday, and every somewhat-major holiday. When I moved up to Vermont, I initially didn’t find any Jewish communities that really resonated with me, and I tapered off that a bit. [9:58] It’s been interesting because for a long time, that tapering off was kind of accidental, but then it became very intentional as I became way more disillusioned with Israeli politics over the coming years. Looking back on this now, it seemed really silly that I ever really thought this way, but I did, up until about a year ago, felt like I was literally the only Jewish person who was upset about how Palestinians and African Jews were being treated. None of my original Jewish circles that I had grown up with really either seemed to care or seemed to want to confront the hypocrisy between “healing the world”—"Tikkun olam"—and social justice, and yet there was this very glaring problem in our midst. I came across an organization (totally by accident) and this happened a little bit after the election in 2016, and it was totally by accident because by that point I had sworn off of any Jewish spaces, but this was one was one where young adult Jews primarily were coming together to oppose Israeli occupation. And I was floored; I was like “Wow, there’s a whole group of Jews specifically who do this!”. I was definitely really vocal about my opinions up here, because I felt this need to prove to other people who are predominantly not Jewish up here that, “Hey, guess what? Not all Jews support this”. So I went down to New York last year and went to a training and then, pretty shortly after that, we did a major action in D.C. against the American-Israel public affairs committee by shutting down and blockading the front and side doors. I did take appropriate time off work because this hit me in a rather personal way. I remember just locking down with other people and looking out at the giant crowd of all different kinds of people and feeling wildly at peace in that moment, whatever happened later. Thank you. [13:07]
  [13:14] My name is Ali, my pronouns are ‘they’ and ‘them’. I’m here from San Francisco—I’m on tour for a show—it’s my second night in Burlington, thanks for welcoming me. I live in San Francisco’s oldest housing cooperative. It was founded in 1957 by a group of beatniks, and we just celebrated our 60th anniversary. I grew up in a very conservative family, predominantly Trump supporters. I’ve been a community organizer and activist for 10+ years, ranging from "lets do nice sweet fundraisers” to really militant direct action, so quite a range there. My story is about the first prompt in the State of the Union: I’d been going to and showing up for racial justice meetings starting in September 2016. In San Francisco, the core organizing group fluctuated between like 10, 15 people, sometimes 20. The Bay Area chapter is a lot bigger, but the San Francisco one was just starting. I like to call Trump “Mussolini Kardashian” because I feel like that’s the best way to describe our fascist reality star, and in the meeting after Mussolini Kardashian was elected, we had like 100+ people there. People were there in this visceral state of panic almost, and it actually really pissed me off. I was so happy to see so many people and see people mobilized. We went around and did this big check-in, and people were so utterly panicked, and the reason it bothered me was this: Under President Obama, there were almost 2 million people deported. The U.S. was at war with eight different countries. The Dakota Access Pipeline all progressed under Obama. Michael Brown was killed under Obama. Kalief Browder hung himself under Obama. All of these things were happening in that era. There’s a way in which Trump’s particular brand of being heinous and viscious and brutal is so in-your-face, but then I look at George W. Bush and I look at the invasion of Iraq, and I look at Andrew Jackson and the Indian Removal Act, and I look at this historical amnesia that makes Trump into this exceptionalized boogey man, when the history of our country is genocide, theft, and slavery. There’s this aspect of the contemporary zeitgeist of panic around his behavior as if it’s different from the rest of America’s history, and I look at this too with some of the campaigns that target and attack the Confederate flag, and I’m like “what about the U.S. flag?!” Like, if we need a symbol of heinous, viscous, barbaric actions, that flag really wins the cake. So there’s this aspect for me of certain types and kinds of panic, and the reality star aspect of it for me is important because it’s this flashy, showy, outlandish in-your-face version, but the quiet and subtle aspects of white supremacist, capitalist, patriarchy has been going on and will continue to go on. I feel like there’s a fireworks to the current thing that really is blinding us, in a way, from the history of it all. Thanks. [16:53]
  My name is Laurie. I am 56 years old, and I was born and raised in Burlington, Vermont. I’m a Burlington, Vermont native. Well, I’ve got kind of mixed feelings about Donald Trump and his actions. Even during his campaign, I always felt that he’s gonna be contradicting, he’s gonna do a lot of firing, and hiring, and the one’s he’s hiring are not staying in, as far as the Senate is concerned. I’m afraid for our country. What I understand is that he’s got so much money, but he ain’t got no brains to use it, so that’s my perspective. I didn’t want him to be our president. I actually wanted Bernie Sanders to be our president. I figured he was more down to earth with us, and he was the better choice. Anyway, I just really was upset when Donald Trump was elected, and I still to this very day wonder, “why did all these people elect him?” My sense of hope in my community is that we can get Trump out, and get somebody else in who knows how to run the country a lot better than it is right now.
  [18:56] My name is Chai Gang. I was born during a depression, and we had people sleeping on our floor every night, and nobody ever said the word homeless. They said, “I can’t find a job". “Homeless" was not a word yet. When I heard Trump talking about how he’s going to get everybody a job, and people voted for him for that reason, I have no respect for those people. I wouldn’t want a man running my country the way he runs this country because he promised me a job. When I was in the Occupy movement, I met a woman who had her mother living with her, and her mother babysat while she went to work. The mother was kicked out of the apartment because she wasn’t on the lease, and the woman lost her job because she didn’t have a babysitter anymore. I met another woman who had her grandfather living with her, and he was in a wheelchair, and he was kicked out because he wasn’t on the lease. So he was homeless. Well, in the old days, no landlord would kick anybody out if the rent was paid and if the place was being taken care of decently. So I’m disgusted and angry, and I feel Trump is supposed to be President, because it’s time for a change, and the change is going to be horrible. What can we hope for? I want to say ‘except that we die’… I don’t want to be here anymore, for what’s coming. And yet, when I think of dying, somebody has to fight. Somebody has to go against what’s coming, so maybe I’m one of them. [21:32]
  My name is David. I lived in Burlington and the Williston area for 56 years. I’m 56 years old now. 29 years ago, I started a career as a taxi driver, which I had for 25 years. I was pretty lucky because I did a lot of runs in Burlington, a lot of runs around Vermont, runs into Canada and all over the U.S. It used to be pretty mild conversations about “Yeah, things are going okay, my job is okay" and the longer I continued, the more I saw old problems just kinda got shoved under the rug, and the people that voted for Trump, there’s a lot of these issues that happened before Trump. Trump is just kind of a beacon of what had been going wrong for a very long time. About four years ago, I lost my house, and I lost my job, and so I ended up being homeless. Luckily, about four years ago, and I moved into a housing complex here for seniors and people with disabilities, both learning and other forms. I’ve learned in where I live that all our differences are making us stronger, and I think all this pressure from the top is finally getting to the point where we’re all starting to organize. More in the last year, we’re all starting to understand that we don’t want this anymore. Let’s go back to caring about each other, getting rid of the power and the money. Let us—the residents and the folks with jobs that are merely making a living—let us take over and head in the right direction. Thank you. [24:10]
  My name is Jen. I’ am a resident of Burlington for three and a half years. I’m a teacher, a community organizer and an artist, and.. I was the one who said that you wouldn’t not have a story, so I have an opening, we’ll see how it goes: So in 2008, when Obama was elected—it was right after the Bush years, which doesn’t seem quite as terrible anymore—I was at Nectar’s when the election results came in, and I was part of a crowd of hundreds and hundreds of people that literally took to the streets and flocked all over Burlington and celebrated this huge victory. It was the first and maybe the only time I’ve ever been that excited about a presidential election. That being said, shortly after that we went right back to the politics and it was kind of a similar but different national thing was happening in D.C., and a friend of mine was doing a local one, and it was this whole idea that we get hope from people, not from presidents. I was really happy to participate in this visual art event. So when I saw that this was happening, I got really excited because something that I always believe very strongly is that we are the power and we can make change. We are living in—I wouldn’t say an unprecedented time, because it’s happened before (before I was around, I think)—but how I’ve seen it affect my friends and my community in ways that I wasn’t expecting. But particularly, I remember—so, I teach college at CCV and up until this semester my classes have always been on Tuesdays—we were talking about the election, talking about it the whole semester, and so, we talked about it all day, told people “If you’re eligible to vote, go vote”, and I felt like we had covered all the bases about who was eligible and everything. So we left and I felt really, really confident that I was going to come into class the next day and I had already planned out how we would talk about what it meant to have our first female president. So I went out with my friends that night, I went down to Nectar’s and we watched, and we went to the OP and we watched, and then we came here, and I sat right there with my friend. As it was close to midnight, and it became clearer and clearer that things weren’t going in the direction that we thought they were going to go, we started losing words, we started having tears, and we started getting fearful. So, when I decided to do this event, we were brainstorming where to do it, and I thought, “let me call Lee, and see if the Lamp Shop is open”, and he said “Yes!”. For me personally, how really hard it is to have this event with people talking about what’s going on, in the same exact place where I felt like I personally got this initial wound, it’s really important, and to be here with people tonight is super helpful. So, thanks for coming and for listening.
  [28:01] Alright, I got one for ya. My name is Luc Arseneau. The first thing about me I guess I tell everybody seems to be—I don’t know how people aren’t bored of it now—I had chronic night terrors since I was a little kid: sleep paralysis, all that shit, for years. I was told to draw them in order to get them to go out, and eventually I did, and eventually I got good at drawing, and then eventually went away. Now I’m a lucid dreamer, and I take those same drawings and I put them up in stories so I can put out something that isn’t taxing on me. So, there you go, there’s a lot of things out there. So, that being said, I got something that I think might be the third one, was it ‘hope’? Yeah, I’ve got ‘hope’ for ya. You can be the judge or whether or not it is, but I’ll leave that up to you. It was the summertime, it must’ve been two years ago maybe, and I was walking across the blue bridge. You know, you might not know but it’s called the blue bridge by anybody who walks across it, it’s railroad tracks. I was going down there, and I live now at the place I was crashing at then, so I had this big backpack, it was my grandfather’s, and I’d used duct taped on the strap on the side to keep it from falling off. So I go down, and I noticed one thing about the bridge was that somebody shot out the streetlights above it again, so I can’t see anything other than, you know, this one lone light, ‘cause the other ones are broken. So I go up to the edge of the bridge and I think I hear a sound, but I don’t stop, because I’m counting the next wooden beam that it takes to get across. I can’t see them, but I know they’re there, so I count them. One, two, three, four, five… and I go across. I hear a sound behind me but I still don’t turn, because I don’t want to break my pace. In the middle of the bridge, I decide to stop, because I hear footsteps. I turn around, and I see a tall figure walking towards me. So I turn forward and go. One thing I didn’t mention is, having night terrors (not that anybody would know) makes you very paranoid, for no logical reason, so you insert logic into it. So I figured, “oh, it’s just a guy going by”. My hand still goes into my pocket, to where my knife is, just there. I hear “hey, boy! Hey man! Hey yo! Slow down, hey hey!” Well, I keep going, and I hear “hey man! Yo yo yo! Stop stop stop!” So I said, “Hey, what dyou want?“ 'cause I’m an idiot. ‘Cause I’m curious. Being curious makes you an idiot. I’m full of idiocy (not as much as our President though, I’ll say that. I’m not curious about what happens there). So I turn around and I say, “Hey man, what dyou want?” and he says “Yo, yo, d’you got a light, man?” I make it clear that my hand’s in my pocket, jingling around the loose change that’s in there and say, “Yeah if all you want is a light”. I realized that for some reason, at that point, I had said something that was very important. I didn’t know why, but I had said something that changed the air. He stops, and he says, “Well yeah, you know”. I realize from the shadow of the light shining past him at me that he’s got his hand in his pocket too. So I said “Yeah, well, yeah, alright I’ve got a light” and I take out some matches, and I give them to him. Then I started talking with him. He was a kid, probably 19 or 18, had a Four Loko, flat brim hat, and we just start to talk. As we start getting into talking, one of the things I notice is that he’s as drunk as I am, he wasn’t certain, he was just trying to light his cigarette. As we’re getting into this conversation I realize he’s not that bad of a guy, and I was like, “I gotta tell you man, I had my hand on my knife in my pocket, ‘cause I thought you were gonna try and mug me” and he’s like, “Yo dude! I didn’t know who you were, I had my hand on my knife too!” And I was like, “Shit, well hey, d’you want some rum?“ ‘Cause it’s 3 in the morning, it’s dark, we’re alone on a bridge, of course I’m gonna, well, you know, who cares… And he goes “No, I’ve got my Four Loko!” and I was like “Oh I’m not touchin’ that”. So we sit down, and we get to talking for about 3 hours, and I learned about his life. He was from Somalia. He got shipped off somewhere else. He was a child soldier for about a year, and then he got free somehow (I don’t know, it was broken English). But one thing he told me, I remember, was talking about how, if you were caught with a beer in his hometown, they cut off one of your hands. I said “Fuck, I’ve heard stories about that, but I never knew…”, and he says “Well, now you know”. So I was like, “Well how nice is it to be in harmony, now, to be in peace?” and he said “What’s harmony, what’s peace?”. And I was like “you know, peace”. I tried to explain to him whats harmony is, and I realized, fuck. That’s the same thing as me asking him, “if all you want’s a light”: yeah, that’s what he asked for. But the thing that we’re not certain about is whether or not we say what we mean, and whether or not somebody understands what we mean when we say it. And that’s all I have to say. [34:08]
  [Lee] As an American, I feel like there is enormous potential with the people that I share nationality with to take this country over. Living in Vermont, living in this little tiny city in this little tiny state has enormous influence to take this fucking country over, and the first thing we have to do is take over our city and start leading by this example. By being an example city, people look at Burlington, Vermont already, with 40,000 people, to lead. Because people like Bernie, and people like things that are happening here. Even though people are like “Oh fuck, they’re building a mall, oh fuck, they’re doing this”, it’s still a really fucking awesome city with a small population. Given the size of the population, we have the ability to take it over and rule this small city, to give an example to the state. People look to the State of Vermont for an example, and we can lead the world if we just take it over. I think Bernie should become the governor, and we should just be like— he has so much popularity, he could get sweeping agendas done. Vermont’s a little green splitting wedge pointing its way at Washington, D.C., and I totally believe that the revolution starts in this city, now. [35:36]
  [37:20] [Chai Gang] The two fantasies I have are: A hundred people marching down Church Street, and one fantasy is that they’re holding signs that say how they were evicted, or how somebody they knew was evicted; the other fantasy is everybody playing music and singing ‘What’s Going On?’, the Marvin Gaye song. Everything I try to get going never happens, so I’m putting this out there and hoping somebody will make it happen.
  Friendship and strength for us all [David]
  [38:20] Reset, ready… hope? Yeah, there’s hope, totally. Hope. [Jen]
  Vehemence, precognition, adverse, and doubting doubts [Luc]
  Invincible, in the sense that we break social, economic, racial, physical barriers, 'cause these are things that hold us together, instead of things that keep us apart. So I really hope that this movement breaks generations and bodies and spirits. I think there’s a lot more that we have in common than in difference, so, that’s cool. [Devin] [39:33]
  Confusion and kinship [Max]
  [40:24] [Phinn] Your story kind of resonated a little more, 'cause I do a lot of photography in my spare time, and it often leads me into very desolate places where I’m completely alone and not expecting to see other people. So basically, there’s this abandoned Cold War era radar base in eastern Vermont. It’s on the top of a mountain, it’s in the middle of nowhere, and it’s a place that I go to kind of be alone, ‘cause there’s no one around, and there’s no one up there, ever. A few months ago, I decided to go up there in the winter time. As I was walking up, I spotted someone ahead of me on the trail up. You know, I was a little hesitant, seeing this guy walking in front of me, but I just kept walking. I was walking significantly faster than him, so I eventually caught up. As I got closer, I could see he was holding onto something in front of him that looked like a gun, and so I got a little bit.. hesitant. As I got closer, I realized it definitely was a gun: he was walking with a gun on a hip and a rifle slung across his chest. So I was a little scared to be walking in the middle of the woods with no cell service past someone with a gun. I had no idea why he would also be up here, you know, out in the middle of nowhere. But, as I got closer—and I had a knife too on my chest and I had a knife on my side—I kind of just slid my hand down along my side as I walked past him, because I was just not sure what was gonna happen. As I walked past, I kind of turned and said “Hello”. He said it back, and then he asked me what I was doing up there. I explained I was taking pictures and he was like, “Oh, well I’m just going target shooting”. We began to talk, and I learned that his name was George and he had grown up in the area, and he was simply this guy going out for a hike, but I had had this heightened sense of urgency of there being any kind of issue with this person, because of an uncertainty of people. Something that I generally hadn’t been feeling, but it was because of the state of the environment that we were in. And now with the state of our country, there’s a little more uncertainty of other people, something I really haven’t felt before and hadn’t felt in Vermont especially, as a generally safe place, somewhere I’ve never really felt unsafe. But it was this moment of second-guessing this person, who also was just out there exploring this place. So I think that was something that really resonated with me, this kind of uncertainty. [43:22]
  [Phinn] Hope is a good one. It’s very wonderful to see everyone from a range of ages and occupations. The wide range is just very good to see. I really appreciate not seeing just a really select group of people talking.
  [Jane] Apprehension, and excitement. And gratitude!
  [Hallie] Improvisation, and connections, and empathy.
  [Ali] Pessimism, cynicism, and optimism.
  [Laurie] I am hopeful and I’m positive (or at least I try to stay positive!)
  [Chai] I’m happy to be here.
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