#characters as conversations i overheard in band class

[put-the-ash-in-trash]

magnus, to alec: you’re a psychopath that eats cereal dry

#malec #tsc #tmi #tda #incorrect tmi #incorrect tmi quotes #incorrect malec quotes #the shadowhunter chronicles #the mortal instruments #the dark artifices #otp #characters as things said at school #characters as conversations i overheard in band class #magnus #magnus bane #alec #alec lightwood #alexander gideon lightwood bane #alexander lightwood #incorrect quotes

[vannahfanfics]

Stereo Hearts

Category: Romantic Fluff

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Characters: Denki Kaminari, Kyoka Jiro

Hello, everyone! It is my pleasure to present my story for the @kmjr-mini-bang! A super big thanks to my partner @chiztec​ who drew an absolutely stunning piece to accompany my story, as well as Amii and nish, who were kind enough to beta my story. I hope you all enjoy the finished product! 

Denki sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that night. He laid on his bed, thumbs twiddling as his hands were clasped over his stomach. His worried gaze could have bored holes into the ceiling if he had the right Quirk. He felt a little silly, fretting so relentlessly over something as simple as a high school graduation. For most students, it was a time of excitement, a chapter of transition in their lives as they went bungling on into adulthood. Denki was eagerly looking forward to getting out there and showing the world what Chargebolt could do. Adulthood wasn’t exactly what he was worried about. 

He hadn’t told Kyoka that he loved her yet. 

“Jeez, that sounds right out of some corny chick flick,” he groaned and rubbed his palms over his eyes. He grimaced as nervous sweat smeared across his face. He flopped his arms back down against the bed with another forlorn exhale, eyes lidded as he envisioned the beautiful, talented girl he’d fallen head-over-heels for their first year. Everything had seemed to get in the way of professing his feelings for her, and also, he felt a little… unworthy. He was a great big massive dork, not nearly cool enough to even be seen with someone as pretty and sophisticated as Kyoka. 

He’d probably short-circuit and go into “yay” mode when tried to confess to her. 

Groaning, he rolled onto his side to grab his phone off the charger. It wasn’t like he was sleeping anyway. As he unlocked it, his thumb came to rest over the screen, and his golden eyes stared at the time burning in white numbers in the center of the display. The time was inching closer to midnight. Soon, it would officially be the day of his graduation. The realization sent a sinking feeling spiraling into the pit of his stomach. 

He was running out of time. Everyone made well-intentioned promises to keep in touch after high school, but everyone knew that almost never panned out. You went on, to college or to a career, you got insanely busy, and next thing you know you haven’t talked to anyone you know in years and made new friendships. Denki swallowed thickly, mindlessly bringing up his favorite picture of Kyoka in his gallery. She was smiling brightly, so hard her eyes were scrunched up into little half-moons. She’d made that face for Denki when he’d surprised her for her birthday with an expensive album she’d been eyeing since its release. When she’d smiled at him like that, he’d almost electrocuted everyone in the room because he’d been so damn in love. 

He was still so damn in love. 

He pulled up Kyoka’s contact information. His fingers hovered over the keyboard. Would she even be awake right now? He wondered with a tiny sigh. Probably not. It was the middle of the night. Still, he found himself texting out a message.

Hey, are you awake? 

He rolled back over and set the phone down on his chest to stare up at the ceiling again. He fully expected his message to go unanswered, so he began losing himself in the confusing stream of “what ifs” and regretting every moment he never chose to tell Kyoka how he felt. He was so lost in thought that he nearly jumped out of his skin when the message alert rang through his quiet bedroom. He fumbled with his sweaty hands to pull up Kyoka’s response. 

Yeah, I’m awake. What’s up? 

A sappy smile bloomed on his lips, and he rolled over, snuggling into his mattress while typing out his reply. 

Just thinking. What about you? 

Three dots popped up on the message screen, quickly followed by a simple, Same. 

Denki ruminated on his thoughts for a moment, thumb hovering over the keyboard. He didn’t even really know what he wanted to say, or what he wanted to do. He wasn’t enough of an ass to confess to Kyoka over text, no… It had to be more special than that, something that she was deserving of. 

A cheesy grin slowly appeared on his face as he recounted a conversation he’d overheard—  Kyoka talking to Mina about her favorite romance movie tropes. Believe it or not, Kyoka secretly adored them and often requested them for the girls’ movie nights. He’d always stored that information in the back of his mind, just in case it would ever become useful… 

Yeah… he thought deviously. He threw off his covers and scrambled over to his closet to throw on something halfway-decent. He couldn’t profess his undying love in a pair of All Might pajama pants, after all. He inspected himself in the mirror after wiggling into a pair of skinny jeans and a band tee-shirt that Kyoka had bought for his last birthday. He licked the palm of his hand to slick down the flyaways in his blond hair, turned his face left and right, and then gave his reflection finger-guns. 

“You got this. You’re a stud. Ladies love ya!” He grinned encouragingly. He held the expression until his face hurt, trying to will the confidence into existence. Then, he flopped his arms and hung his head in defeat. “She’s probably gonna laugh,” he snorted. “But,” he added, peeking through his bangs at the mirror. “I still gotta try!” 

Before his courage could fail him, Denki snatched up the vintage stereo sitting on his desk— another birthday present from Kyoka— and scurried out of the room, hopping on one foot down the hall trying to slip on his Converse. He slowly tip-toed past Tenya’s dorm clutching his stereo to his chest; their class representative had a nose for trouble, especially Denki’s shenanigans, and had caught the blond many a night trying to sneak away and get up to no good. It seemed that luck was on Denki’s side this evening, as he made it to the stairwell without inciting a peep for the tall bespectacled boy’s room. He breathed a sigh of relief and gathered himself for a moment before proceeding downstairs. 

He treaded carefully, having long since memorized the creaky spots in the wood in his many misadventures. The tip of his tongue peeked out of his lips as he used the sparse moonlight to guide his steps down to the first floor. It was slow going, but the even best-laid plans were ruined by haste. He could feel his cell phone vibrating in his back pocket, probably Kyoka wondering why he suddenly stopped texting her. 

All in due time, my dear Kyoka! <3

When Denki reached the first-floor landing, he cautiously peered out into the gloom. It wouldn’t be the first time he surprised another student who had fallen asleep in the lounge, or worse, Mr. Aizawa, who had relocated to the common room to stay up late grading assignments. Thankfully, Lady Luck was generous and granted him passage through his second trial; the lounge was empty. 

Denki stole away through the darkness, like a thief in the night, to the back door. He grimaced as it creaked loudly and looked over his shoulder. After an agonizing half-minute of silence, no one emerged from the dark to scold him, so he elected that the coast was clear. He slipped outside, and the warm wind immediately enveloped him, clouding him with a cologne of night-blooming flowers and dew. He stared out into the side alley, the concrete path that led him to the space just beneath Kyoka’s balcony— and began to doubt. 

I’m really going out on a limb here, he gulped and clutched the stereo to his chest until the metal creaked. His absolute worst nightmare wasn’t Kyoka rejecting him… but laughing at him. He tried to tell himself that Kyoka would never do something so callous, but he worried all the same. It was such a frightening thing, putting yourself out there. The mind tried to worm its way out of it whenever possible. 

But it’s now or never! Even if she laughs at me… If I don’t do this now, I’ll regret not doing it for the rest of my life! 

Denki was going to go out on this limb, even if it broke underneath him and he plummeted headlong into bitter heartbreak. He could always put himself back together again. Resolute, he tromped down the small alleyway to the rows of balconies jutting out from the dorm. 

He counted under his breath until he found Kyoka’s sliding glass doors and fluttering curtains. He set the stereo down by his feet and finally pulled out his phone to discover a series of confused messages from Kyoka. 

Hello? You text me first, and then don’t answer me? What’s up with that? 

He smiled, sensing that playful bite in her tone that he’d fallen head-over-heels in love with. 

Come out onto your balcony, he answered. Before he could stow his cellphone, it buzzed with a quick reply. 

What? Why? 

Just do it! He insisted in mild panic. He’d failed to consider that Kyoka would just tell him to shove off and go to bed. As nervous sweat condensed on his forehead, he heard the faint click of the door. He jerked in shock, inadvertently dropping his phone face-down on the concrete. He cringed, already imagining the crack spiderwebbing across the glass screen.

“Denki?” he heard Kyoka call suspiciously as he ducked down to hit the power button on the stereo. It automatically started up a CD of Kyoka’s favorite songs that he’d burned on the off-chance that he would need it. Just as she came to the edge of the balcony, he straightened up and swept his hand through his hair, smiling bashfully. Her eyes widened, refracting the moonlight as her ears drank in the pretty tune streaming from the stereo’s large speakers. “Denki?” she repeated perplexedly. “What are you doing?” 

He nudged down the volume with his toe while a blush rose to his cheeks. 

“Look, I know this is corny as hell, and you probably don’t appreciate being called out at three in the morning, but I’m kinda desperate here,” he admitted, nervously rubbing at the back of his neck and chuckling. “You know how I told you I was thinking? I was thinking about you. How your smile lights up my whole life, and when you sing it sounds like an angel walking this Earth, and how damn lucky I feel to have shared these last three years with you. How cute you are when you laugh, and gush about romance movies when you think nobody notices, and how badass you are that it leaves me breathless.” 

As he rambled on and on about everything he absolutely adored about her, Kyoka’s face glowed like a pink opal in the moonlight and her wide eyes glimmered like gems. By this time, the noise had attracted the other girls from their dorm rooms, and they sleepily peered out at Denki pouring out his heart and soul to their startled classmate. His cheeks darkened with embarrassment, but he’d already said so much; there was no going back now. 

“I was thinking about how stupidly in love I am with you, and how if I don’t tell you now that I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. So I love you, Kyoka, and I’d be really stoked if you’d go out with me.” 

A ripple of gasps rang out from the girls’ mouths, and they all looked expectantly at Kyoka. The girl gulped audibly and pawed at her dark hair, which was sticking up in odd places and tousled with sleep. Her earjacks nervously writhed above her shoulders and her eyes cast down as she considered Denki’s confession. All the while, he stood there holding his breath, waiting and listening to the love song serenade the silence. 

He was beginning to feel a bit faint and like he was going to start sparking when her eyes finally flickered up to meet his own. 

“I’d be really stoked to go out with you, too.” 

The girls erupted into cheers and squeals, jumping up and down while clapping their hands. Kyoka blushed under their ecstatic congratulations. Their whoops and hollers attracted the boys from across their halls, meandering out onto the girls’ balconies to investigate what all the fuss was about. Denki shrunk under all the attention, twiddling his fingers and turning as red as a tomato. 

“Aw, congratulations, you two!” Izuku called with a big smile. 

“It’s about damn time,” Katsuki grumped from beside Eijirou and Ochako. “I was getting sick and damn tired about him mooning over her like a lovesick sap.” 

“Hey, bro! Don’t you have a nicer way to say congrats?” the redhead scolded, making Katsuki snarl. 

“Denki Kaminari!” came the expected chastising. Denki flinched and grinned apologetically at Tenya, who was gestating emphatically on Tooru’s balcony with his nightcap flapping. “What is the meaning of this? I understand the romanticism, but it is the eve of our graduation ceremony! It is imperative that we be rested to do justice to our prestigious institution, not straggle in like zombies! Have you no sense of decorum?” 

“Oh, can it, class rep,” Mina chided. Tenya leaned down over the balcony railing with an affronted gasp. The pink girl’s smile was wide as she winked at Denki. “So, stud. Are you gonna just stand there, or are you gonna come give your new girlfriend a kiss?” 

“Mina!” Kyoka hissed, turning her head so hard and fast that Denki swore he heard her bones snap. Denki jumped, stuttering nonsensities, and dipped down to retrieve his stereo. It was still blaring as he sprinted back into the dorm and up the stairs. Kyoka was standing in her doorway as he came barreling up the steps, tripping over the laces of his Converse and nearly plowing headfirst into the wall. The rest of the students watched with bated breath, crowding in the other doorways and on the steps behind him. 

“Hey, Kyoka,” Denki swallowed, holding the stereo to his chest as he timidly approached her. His breaths came in ragged gasps from his rapid staircase sprint, and a sheen of sweat stuck his hair to his forehead. He doubted that he looked the picture of handsome— but Kyoka still smiled coyly as he approached, tucking her hair behind her ears and staring at him like he was her knight in shining armor. His golden eyes never left hers as he set the stereo on the floor and rubbed his palms on the denim fabric of his jeans.

“Hey, Denki,” she smiled shyly. His heart fluttered just at the sweet sound of her voice, and he swore he fell in love all over again in that moment. His body moved instinctively as his mind was ensnared by her unconscious charm, stepping close to her and using his index finger to slowly tip up her chin. He sucked in a breath, enchanted by her shy little gaze and slightly parted lips. 

“You’re so beautiful.” 

“Just kiss her already, you asshole, I’m tired!” Katsuki yelled from down the hall, making both of them jump. He heard Eijirou scold him under his breath and elbow him in the ribs, making Katsuki unleash a string of unflattering curses. After the fiery blond’s grumbles had died down, Denki smiled bashfully at the pink-cheeked Kyoka. She fluttered her eyelashes demurely, then flickered her gaze down to his lips. 

Well, if he was waiting for an invitation, that damn sure was it. 

Without further ado, Denki leaned in to gently capture her in a sweet kiss. His heart sung as she hummed slightly, making his hair stand on end. He almost wondered if he’d strayed into a dream, that his fantastical whimsies had come to fruition only in his subconscious. However, when he pulled back and opened his eyes, he knew he was awake. He could never dream the way she looked at him then, with such utter adoration that it made his heart ache. 

“All right. Show’s over,” Katsuki grumbled, skulking off toward his room. Denki rolled his eyes but leaned down to finally switch off the stereo. When he straightened back up, their classmates had retreated into their rooms— leaving them alone. Kyoka shyly swung from side-to-side, hugging herself with a sheepish grin. 

“That was pretty smooth,” she admitted. 

“Really?” he asked excitedly. Her cheeks darkened a shade of pink, and then she nodded. Denki suppressed the wild urge to embarrass himself with a happy jig. Kyoka would probably find it charming, but he wanted to hang on to some sense of decorum, as Tenya had put it. After several minutes of staring adoringly at one another, Denki finally drawled dreamily, “Well… We should probably get back to bed… Tenya’ll be mad if we’re tired at the ceremony tomorrow.” 

“Yeah,” she said, sounding just as enthused about ending the moment as he was. Neither of them moved for several seconds. “You should go, Denki,” she reminded him, finally prompting his sluggish body to move. He scooped up his stereo, never breaking eye contact, before rising to clutch it to his chest. “I’ll see you later,” she reassured him with a light laugh, before retreating into her room. She didn’t close the door, just gazed at him like he’d hung the moon in the sky— and he would, for her. 

“Yeah,” he said as he began backing away towards the end of the hall. When she finally shut the door, he risked his happy dance, jitterbugging back to his room. Just as he flopped onto his bed, his phone buzzed. He pulled it out with furrowed brows, and then broke into a stupid smile. 

I’m looking forward to our date. 

His thumbs flew across the screen to type up a reply as he rolled on his side and snuggled into bed. 

Me too. Goodnight, Kyoka. 

She must have drifted off, because there was no reply. That was all right. After a minute of goofily admiring her contact picture, he finally put his phone on the charger and settled into bed. Sleep took him easily this time, gifting him dreams of what was to come.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

#kamijiro #kamijirou #jirokami #jiroukami #kaminari x jiro #jiro x kaminari #denki kaminari #kaminari denki #kyoka jiro #jiro kyoka #my hero academia #mha #boku no hero academia #bnha #mha fanfic #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfic #bnha fanfiction

[creativeashproductions]

Faded Memories // Julie Molina

Summary: After the death of her mother more than music is dropped from Julie’s life. Julie breaks up with her best friend turned then girlfriend Ramona. When Ramona gets closure it causes Julie remembers that Ramona was more than a girlfriend. She was her best friend too.

Warning: Swearing, talk of death, break-up, angst (ain’t new here), Julie and Ramona are ex-girlfriends and no happy ending (oops)

Characters: ex!Julie Molina x ex!Ramona Monet (just worked better with an OC even when it will get less traction, sorry)

Words: 2.9k

A/N: So in my Charlie Gillespie imagine A Walk Down The Aisle the reader played a character Ramona Monet on the show. @leave-reality-behind wanted a fic off the tiny scene I wrote. So here you go.

Please ask to be tagged in my inbox because I can’t promise you will through commenting on the fics.

Masterlist

Ramona Monet’s deep burgundy lips manoeuvred into an ‘o’ as she released a deep breath of air sending her fringe flying. The last place she wanted to be was the spirit rally, but her Pops had banned for from the hidden gem in the older parts of LA. Ramona’s love of old movies stemmed from the many times her father had dropped her off at the movie theatre on his way to work. Being banned and her best friend performing at the rally is the only reason she would show her face.

Ramona had chosen a red tartan shirt with her fishnets that would more than likely land her in Principle Lessa’s office. As usual, she would fight ‘it broke dress code’ earing a little less respect from the adult but admiration for the quick retorts. Ramona made her way to the gym as the first beat of Carrie’s song played, her black ankle boots finding the way to the bleachers.

“Hey, Monet,” Nick spoke, leaning forward from his concealed position in the nest of jocks. The kind blonde had always been lovely to his girlfriend’s best friend.

“Nick.” Ramona nodded looking back as Carrie burst into the fast pace choreography that went with the pop song.

Dirty Candi’s music was not what Ramona listened to, but she couldn’t fault that it was a catchy song that would be in everyone’s head for days. From a distance, Carrie’s brown eyes finding Ramona wearing her self-made merch.

Ramona’s shirt sported the letters of Dirty Candi in the iconic colours Carrie had stressed over in the beginning. The black shirt was bleached in a tie-dye fashion, but it made Carrie’s heart flutter at the supportive friend she had.

“Whoo!” Ramona called over the loud background noise as Carrie gracefully dropped to perform the floor choreo. The words referencing to the band Queen made the teen girl knowing it was Carrie’s way of acknowledging the car karaoke.

Ramona’s attention was brought to the side where two girls were watching the performance. Flynn and Julie had been in the back of Ramona’s mind since the accident happened; Ramona’s heart dropped at the girl. Julie and Ramona had a good history tainted by tragic loss and teenage angst.

Ramona and Julie had been childhood best friends being a few houses from each other and that history was bittersweet. The two girls had nervously shared their first kisses in the now dilapidated treehouse in the Monet’s backyard. A relationship bloomed like a flower in the morning sun before the sun was concealed behind a storm cloud. Julie’s mom died, and Julie asked for a break.

Now everyone knows that a break is really a breakup and the naïve girlfriends had believed that. Then as Julie struggled with music, she struck out to the closest person, her girlfriend and Ramona found herself dumped. The dumping shattered Ramona’s heart, and the friend group divided. Flynn chose Julie and Carrie, disgusted by the cruel words, chose Ramona in a true Carrie fashion; Carrie and Ramona had initially only interacted together for their mutual friend/girlfriend. Then Ramona’s heart was obliterated when days later, she caught Julie staring at Nick with the same look Ramona used to get.

Ramona’s head turned to disregard the girl that had run out of music class the previous day during her performance. Rumours circulated by the end of the day that Julie Molina had been officially kicked out of the program; Ramona was both sad and relieved. Julie’s own head turned to catch the profile of her ex-girlfriend.

“Go Bobcats!” Carrie Wilson chimed strutting off to the girls change room for the dramatic exit. Needing a break from Julie, the Monet girl followed Dirty Candi into the change room.

“Nailed it,” Ramona spoke, revealing white teeth behind her dark lipstick gaining the pink-haired girl’s attention. Carrie’s face beamed at the compliment.

Ramona and Carrie Wilson couldn’t be farther in comparison with their different tastes and appearance. Carrie was all pink and glittery while Ramona was grunge and angst. Ramona was the one to push Carrie into making a YouTube channel, even promoting the group to Ramona’s followers without prompting.

“Oh! Thank you!” Carrie tugged her best friend into her arms, choking her taller friend with the tight embrace.

“So, I overheard Julie and Flynn when I walked by the music room. Julie’s going to perform for Mrs Harrison.” Ramona warned her best friend concerned as Carrie’s complexation changed to make the gaudy pink wig, “OH!”

Carrie’s French manicure gouged Ramona’s bare arm as she was tugged after the teenager back into the gym. A gasp fell from both their lips as Kayla, the purple dancer for Dirty Candi appeared. The three students rushed the stage where three guys popped out of nowhere on the stage. 

“What the hell?” Ramona demanded watching her ex-girlfriend break out of her music shell, “Wow.”

“What do you mean ‘wow’ Ro?” Carrie asked in exasperation as her best friend stared at the stage, enjoying the music being played. Carrie scoffed only to soften when she saw the expression on Ramona, “Ro, she doesn’t deserve you. She never did.”

The sad smile appeared on Ramona’s face as her eyes met the bass player’s wink. Ramona flushed at the attention taken aback from the confidence. For a split-second, Ramona considered wiggling her way into the band to get back at Julie. 

But while Ramona dressed like a confident badass, it was inside that she felt alone and hurt that Julie was doing so well without her. That sent rage flooding Carrie’s body so when Kayla fawned over the band Carrie glared at her. Kayla dropped her head at the glare.

“I’m gonna go,” Ramona spoke walking away from the stage and her ex who apparently, she still had feelings for. God help Ramona. Why was it when Ramona was shaking the feeling that Julie had to come back with a bang?

Ramona was striding out of the gym as the band disappeared, leaving the Molina girl alone to explain. Ramona leaned against the bathroom sink uncaring of the germs in carried staring at the teen in the mirror. The bubbling sadness faded down, remembering the changes that had happened, she was better without Julie.

Ramona walked back into the hall, catching the tail end of Julie’s conversation with absolutely no one near her. Ramona’s mossy green eyes rolled as she walked by the younger girl the bubble of anger reaching the surface. The sheepish smile on Julie’s face as a concerned custodian pushed his cart by.

“Oh, so does this girl.” Reggie spoke, watching as a rocker chick made a wide berth around his only remaining alive friend, “Ooh, she’s pretty.”

Julie watched the older girl walk by keeping her gaze ahead, “Hey Mona.”

Ramona cast a weird look at the other girl with a roll of her eyes, “Good on you for performing. Surprised someone other than Flynn survived Bitch Bomb 2019.”

Ramona turned around the corner of lockers leaving the Puerto Rican’s shoulders to deflate at the remind of Flynn running off. Sunset Curve watched the interaction with raised brows flicking between the very different girls.

“What was that about?” Alex wondered, viewing the sad expression of the gifted singer’s face. The utter sadness reminding him of when he broke up with his first boyfriend in ’93 and the lingering feeling.

“That was Ramona.” Julie sighed, picking at the braided bracelet on her wrist that had matched the one you used to wear. 

Being fourteen without jobs and little allowance gifts had been mostly thrifted or homemade so for the six month anniversary they had braided bracelets. They had never come off their wrists until the breakup; Ramona had cut it off in a puddle of tears. Julie couldn’t bring herself to remove hers.

“When did Julie get smart enough to how about holograms?” Carrie scoffed as Ramona joined her at the lab table. The performance lingering like a bad taste of the girl’s tongue, “I worked weeks on that song! It was so hard getting Katy’s choreographer to help.”

“Carrie she-“

“She is so stupid! We’ve all lost someone, and we didn’t pull a Bitch Bomb 2019.” Carrie exclaimed referring to the first months of Julie’s grief-led wrath. 

Carrie was both right and wrong in that sense because everyone grieved differently, Carrie would do retail shopping. Ramona’s way of dealing was locking herself in a room with a piano and lugging up water balloons to a roof; very Peyton Sawyer of her. Julie never reached out to apologize for her actions, but Ramona blocked her on everything.

“Car focus on the lab. You still have that bomb-ass song you’re working on.” Ramona sympathized with the teen. Carrie nodded her head, deciding to not focus on some girl with a fluke of a performance; Julie almost puked on the piano a few days ago, so her surprise band was probably a one-time thing.

“Don’t you have anything better than-“

“Carrie do you hear something?” Ramona pursed her lips, scanning the classroom with a feigned look of confusion. Carrie’s lips twitched at her best friend’s antics, “I swore I heard the voice of irrelevance.”

“Ooh and I swore I smelt gutter water perfume too.” Carrie flicked her hair over her shoulder, smirking at Flynn’s look of anger, “Mr. Taylor! Flynn threatened to burn me!”

Mr Taylor turned his attention from Kayla to Flynn’s expression of disbelief and the glare directed at the table ahead. Putting on a look of shock, Ramona appeared genuinely flabbergasted to the chemistry teacher.

“Flynn, that’s detention.” Mr Taylor spoke, turning back to Kayla.

“You bit-“Flynn was cut off by the bell ringing. Ramona and Carrie had already left the confident girl in the room. Flynn was fuming with both Julie’s lying and the unfair detention because of two popular vindictive girls. 

One would expect Ramona Monet, as a member of the music program, to play guitar or drums. However, Ramona was a classically trained pianist with an affinity with stringed instruments as well. The Monet family had a footing in the music world with her mother taught in the same way, and her father a composer.

“Oh! Sorry.” Ramona’s intense focus on the music enchanting the room was pulled as the awkward form stood in the entrance.

“Seriously, Molina?” Ramona winced as her hands fell on the keys creating an ear gouging shriek. Her green eyes shining brighter with the bare face she had chosen with little motivation for makeup, “I’ve been using this room every day at the same time since freshman year. You should know that. Guess I really wasn’t even an afterthought.”

Ramona’s hand shoved soft top binder of her notes in her black bag covered in many pins and embroidered patches. Her bright pink nail polish surprising Julie but her eyes drowned in the form-fitting ripped black jeans with the wine red cable knit sweater. Cheeks flushing Julie stuttered.

“S-sorry. I just-“

“Whatever.” Ramona shoved passed her ex-girlfriend, “Why do you even wear that?”

Julie glanced at the meaningful bracelet that Ramona intensely stared at with the dark and light strings braided. Julie’s eyes fell to see Ramona no longer wore braided bracelets but a bracelet with a moon charm.

“It means a lot.”

“Just not the person.” Ramona darkly chuckled, “Kinda childish?”

Julie shuffled uncomfortably on her feet picking at her cuticle at the insult her antagonist ex threw at her. Three ghosts glared at the Monet girl pissed at the unfair treatment she was giving Julie.

“Hey! What the hell is your problem?” Luke snapped, stepping forward even as Alex made his input of it being unnecessary; they were dead. To Alex shock, the disgruntled girl shifted her gaze from Julie to the trio.

“My problem is none of your damn business Uncle Jesse.” Ramona spat earning raised brows at her reference.

 “Did she die in the ’90s too?” Reggie stage whispered to his best friend staring the pretty brunette down. Ramona’s eyes rolled.

“Should have known. The only people Julie didn’t scare off would be the dead.” Ramona snarked twisting on her heel to storm off into the distance.

“I’m sorry!” Julie yelled, bringing the brunette to a dead stop with her foot not planted on the floor yet as the apology finally came.

All Ramona had ever wanted was Julie to apologize for her shitty decision to dump Ramona cruelly. Using bitter words on her personal life to drive the wedge but the final nail in the coffin was the slammed door in Ramona’s face.

“For what?” Ramona seethed, “For asking for space and screaming when I gave it? Dumping me and acting like I was the black plague? How about when you forgot about my audition? Burning the flowers, I sent for the funeral? Or making breaking off communication and Flynn completely ignoring me?”

“Oh damn.” Luke murmured, stepping back to the drummer and bassist floored at the confrontation. His heart dropped, finally understanding why Julie avoided all topics relating to Ramona.

“I was wrong.” Julie admitted, “I pushed you away. I got mad when you gave me what I wanted. I should have talked to you and not broke up with you that way I did.”

“She burnt funeral flowers. “Alex whispered to Reggie, surprised at the out of character action from his new friend.

“I chose you over my audition. I chose to offer support for my best friend, not just my then-girlfriend, on one of her worst days. I get to the funeral, and you refused to let me say goodbye to the woman that practically raised me as well.” Ramona calmed down, staring at the younger girl breaking apart in front of her.

It felt like a weight dropped off Ramona’s shoulders or the chains of heartbreak and confusion unlocked with the key of closure. The clouds disappeared, letting the sun help the flowers bloom after a year of rain. A genuine smile spread on the girls face as Julie’s dropped at the beautiful sight.

“I hope you well Birdie.” Julie’s heart fluttered at the pet name Ramona had coined for the teenager. It shortened from songbird to birdie, and Julie hadn’t heard in what felt like years, “I gotta go. It’s filming day.”

Julie went pushed into a memory.

Summer 2018

The camera was entirely set on Ramona in the treehouse that her Pop had built when she was five years old. Fourteen-year-old Ramona was relaxing as she fixed her white off-shoulder crop top to be straight once more. The cover of the song accompanied by her acoustic guitar was pretty to the years of the short girl at the entrance.

“I still think it’s cheesy to call it Music Monday.” Ramona told the camera with a shy smile after strumming the last note. Her eyes meeting the girl that tackled her in a hug, “Birdie!”

“Birdie?” Julie questioned leaning back from her kissing attacks on every inch of her dirty-blonde girlfriend.

“Songbird is a bit of a mouthful.” Ramona blushed hiding in Julie’s neck unaware of the camera still rolling. The blush deepened at the lingering kiss to Ramona’s hairline.

“I love it.” Julie softly spoke, leaning back to gaze into Ramona’s green eyes swimming in the soft feeling.

Julie Molina and Ramona Monet had been the classic best friends with hidden crushes that shattered one afternoon. Ramona was nervous about a date she had the next day, and she had never kissed anyone. Julie, awed by her best friend, admitted she’d never kissed anyone and so in a cliché, the girls decided to share their first kiss. Feelings were revealed, and the two started to date.

“So, what brings you here.” Ramona asked, stopping the camera from recording as her girlfriend shifted, “What’s up?”

“If you’re ready I’d like to have you over for dinner.” Julie shyly asked, avoiding Ramona’s gaze.

“That’s not new Birdie.” Ramona chuckled helping the shorter girl to her feet fingers caressing the bracelet that was a twin to her own. Julie’s eyes flicked down to the light pink shorts that matched the butterfly click in Ro’s hair.

“Not as my best friend. As my girlfriend.” Julie murmured fearing the response.

“Should I call your parents Mr and Mrs.” Ramona wondered, kissing Julie’s cheek as the other girl relaxed at the statement. Julie feared Ramona wasn’t ready or didn’t want to be at that stage in the relationship, “If you are ready, then so am I.”

“You’re the best thing to happen to me.” Julie beamed, “Oh! I wanna show you the song Mom, and I made!”

Julie tugged her pretty girlfriend to the front of the house to lead her to the Molina’s garage they renovated into a music studio. The girls’ laughter floating in the summer breeze, the relationship blooming under the sun as it developed further. Naïvely the two young teens believed nothing could rip them apart, if only they knew.

“So, I’m guessing she’s off-limits?” Reggie offered as he bounced on his heels, attempting to lighten the mood. The glare from Julie was enough to answer that question.

“Reg. Firstly, don’t date your friend’s ex. Secondly, you’re dead.” Alex deadpanned at his best friend to turn to Julie, “Are you okay?”

 “No.” Julie honestly spoke, “I guess I never realized that losing my girlfriend also meant I would lose my best friend.”

On the other side of the school, Ramona Monet could finally smile as the memories with Julie regained the colour grief had erased. Ramona Monet was better than fine, she was happy.

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[rora-s]

My Coming Out Story

Disclaimer: Due to the personal nature of this story names have been changed as to not reveal peoples identity.  I’m not sure why I decided to post this story now. It’s something I’ve hadn’t written for awhile but never knew when or where to place it. I’m posting it now and I hope that if someone needs it now in their life they can read it and feel a little better about how things are going.  When I was little I really didn’t have a concept of what gay was. I grew up in a loving christian home with my mechanical engineer turned youth minister mom and my current electrical engineer dad who was also the music leader at church for a number of years. There were also my three siblings of which I was the second oldest. My life revolved around church. It was literally where I went to preschool and I spent at least five days a week there well into my teenage years. 

Growing up in this way wasn’t bad. I had a great community and family. However, that changed. I remember thinking during my elementary school days that I thought of guys and girls the same. The only thing was that I understood that when you get married girls marry guys and vice versa. That’s just how it was and I thought everyone felt the way I did. You just had to pair up like that. 

I had heard the word gay and understood the concept of it when I was in elementary school thanks to my church and one kid at my school. My mom told me he was gay and I didn’t believe it because he was so nice and from what I understood gay meant bad. (He came out when we were in middle school and was one of my inspirations later on.) 

Still the first time I had a personal connection with having that label was when some girls started a rumor that me and one of my best friends who was also female had kissed on the playground during recess. This was an outright lie and my violent tendencies at the time due to (at that time) unmedicated ADHD caused me to lash out and beat up the bully which got me sent to the principal's office. I didn’t tell anyone why I had beat up the girl just that she was being mean to my friend. As I was a frequent flyer in the office at that time they didn’t really question me all that hard anyway. Now that I’m older I can’t really tell you why I didn’t tell anyone what the girls said. Whether I was embarrassed, scared, or just too stubborn to give them an answer I don’t remember I just know I didn’t. 

Fast forward to middle school and I was a far more awkward, less violent teen. At this point I was still pretty unaware of the world around me in regards to the LGBT. I knew that there were some kids in my grade that had come out as LGBT that kid I mentioned before among them. Still to me it was something that was viewed as a bad thing they were sinners. It was all what church had taught me whether it be explicitly by some or implicitly by the majority it was still something I picked up on as a child. 

Then one day my mom told me that we had been invited by two of her friends from college to have lunch with them. It was at one of my favorite little cafes so I was really excited. She told me they were psychologists and that they were together. She also told me they were two men. I was shocked. I didn’t think gay people could have significant relationships like straight people. On top of that I couldn’t imagine my mom -- who by all accounts was the symbol of a perfect godly woman to my entire church community -- could be friends with them. 

Her response to my shock: “We’re christians, they are not, we hate the sin but we love the sinner. Despite being gay they are still good people but since they aren’t christians we can’t hold them to the same standard as us. They simply don’t believe in it.” (I paraphrased but this is the general idea of the conversation) 

It was the first time I had heard such a sentiment and I went into that lunch with a curious perspective. I was still a little shy so I didn’t ask about it but I watched them together, made note of their wedding bands (gay marriage wasn’t legal then but they were symbolic to them), and witnessed their love for each other. After that I started finding myself paying more attention to my peers who had come out. Many of which I ran in the same circles as. The more I watched and interacted and bonded with them the more my bigoted thoughts that gays were these lustful bad people faded and I realized they were normal people. 

That’s when I realized something. Not everyone loves both guys and girls and just picks a side. I learned that bisexuality existed. The next step I took in my journey was repression. I was a christian. Christians were not gay. I was not gay. I could not be gay. I was just imagining it and it’s not a big deal. Afterall I still like guys so we're fine. 

This lasted until my sophomore year of high school, choir class, and a girl with freckles, short multi colored hair, dazzling eyes, and the singing voice of an angel. The panic was real and my emotions would not shut up. I couldn't come to terms with it. With any of it. 

I denied my feelings for most of that year until one day I was with two of my friends. We were all writers and talking about different stories we were working on. Then one of them paused in the middle of what she was saying and turned to me saying “these characters are gay. We know you don’t believe in that stuff but that’s what it is” 

I looked back at her in shock and I responded with “that’s okay. I am a christian and while I might never practice that myself I’m okay with other people doing it. Hate the sin, love the sinner” my friend smiled at me and said that was the first time she’d heard such an accepting thing from a christian and continued telling us about her story as we headed to class. 

I was glad I put a smile on her face and made her feel accepted but honestly I felt like a complete piece of garbage. I’d simply parroted back to hear all the stuff that had been shoved down my throat for my entire life. Did I really believe it though? I couldn’t stop thinking about that conversation for the rest of the week. I also couldn’t stop thinking about that girl from choir class but that was honestly nothing new. 

About a week later our school had standardized testing going on. Which divided up kids into computer labs by grade and last name. Me and one of my guy friends we’ll call him Cane had luckily been seated near each other. During one of our breaks when we were allowed to talk. I went over and leaned on the desk next to him. He vented to me about how he had a crush on one of our mutual friends and was thinking about asking her out but was nervous. I gave him encouragement as best I could then he inquired whether I was interested in anyone. Before I really thought about it I answered yes. He asked who and after only a few moments of deliberation I admitted that it was the girl from my choir class. He acknowledged and agreed that she was cute before continuing on. I looked at him in surprise and pointed out to him that she was female. He said he knows and that it wasn’t that big of a deal if I liked girls. I thanked him and asked him not to tell anyone because I still wasn’t sure. He agreed to keep it under wraps but did tease me a little for my crush. 

After that conversation. I finally took the leap and began to look up the LGBT community online. I found forums and support centers and ted talks and messages and christians saying that LGBT was okay. I was ecstatic but still I was worried so I prayed and the more I prayed and researched and talked with other LGBT people the more I felt like a giant weight had been lifted off my chest. Finally I could admit to myself that I was in fact bisexual and I was okay with that and so was my God. 

I still wasn’t comfortable coming out to anyone yet. So I spent more time on online forums for LGBT youth and writers. I learned about the community and I embraced my crush on the girl in choir. Even though it didn’t pan out and I fell for a boy we’ll call him Reese and started dating him my junior year. It felt like things were going okay. I was able to tell one of my friends call them Alex finally that year and they intern told me that they were asexual. We were able to support each other in our closets and were happy. 

During my Junior year even though my feelings for the choir girl faded I ended up meeting another girl in my Fire and Rescue class at the career education center that partnered with my high school. We’ll call her Polly. She was an incredible person, bright and beautiful and unabashedly herself all the time. We bonded over marvel movies and writing. Even though I was dating Reese at the time I was falling head over heels for this girl. It took me a while to figure it out as slowly me and Polly became better friends but I was developing feelings for her.

Finally, my senior I got the courage (with support of Alex) to come out to my main friend group. It was at a marching band competition and everyone was super supportive. My best friend you can call her April she said she wasn’t surprised and Reese who was still my boyfriend at the time said he loved me and would always support me and this didn’t change that. I even came back out to Cane again because I had genuinely forgotten that he already knew. He reminded me of what he said that day. That it didn’t matter and he wouldn’t tell a soul. They were all proud of me for owning who I was. It was one of the happiest moments of my life.

However, it couldn’t last. When I was telling April one of the band mom’s overheard and gave me a shocked and disgusted look. She didn’t say anything but she didn’t have to. She was known for being the gossip of the group and she was a religious friend of my moms. If she had overheard then it was only a matter of time before she told my mother. 

I was terrified. When I got home from the competition I watched my mom to see if she was going to react at all to me. She didn’t and I realized she hadn’t been told yet. I was relieved but knew that I wanted to be the one to tell my mom. I didn’t want her to hear it from a secondary source, especially not the gossip. So I got on one of my forums and talked to some LGBT friends who encouraged me before I took a deep breath and headed into my parents room. 

My dad was away on business so it was just my mother. I told her I had something to tell her and she gave me her attention. I explained that I had come to accept myself as I am and that I knew God had also accepted me as the way I am. I told her I was bisexual and waited watching her. 

She stared at me for a long moment. Her face was a mixture of confusion and fear and the next words out of her mouth I will never forget she asked “does this mean you’re going to hell?” 

I felt like someone had just pulled the floor out from under me. She didn’t understand and spent the next couple minutes trying to convince me I was mistaken or that this was wrong. We stayed civil and eventually she just said she needed to process this and sent me back to my room. I cried myself to sleep that night. 

The next day at school I told my friends what happened and they comforted me. When I got back from school and band practice I hid in my room until that evening when my father got home from his business trip. He came to my door and told me we needed to talk. My younger sisters were banished to their room as me, my mom, and my dad - who had been told by my mom - sat in the living room to discuss the fact that I was gay. 

Shortly after starting the conversation/argument a boy (Derek) who was like my older brother came over. He wasn’t biologically related to us but he had a key to the house, would often come over, referred to us as his siblings/parents, and was referred to by us as our brother/son. Me and him were very close and despite my parents wanting to send him to the other room I insisted he stay as things had already begun to get heated between me and my father. 

Derek helped keep the tension down but there was still plenty of yelling. He acted as an impartial mediator for most of it. My dad yelled a lot, my mother cried, I both yelled and cried. It was a rough night. It ended with me storming back to my room. A while later Derek came to my room and talked with me. He explained that he didn’t understand or know if he agreed with it but he’d make the effort and be there for me. I thanked him.

My house after that was tense to say the least. My parents avoid the subject at all costs. My sisters knew thanks to the yelling that night but didn’t comment on it. The next time my mom brought it up was to tell me that I couldn’t tell my cousin about it because she would spread it to the rest of my dad’s side of the family. She also said I couldn’t tell her mother, my grandmother, because she had a heart condition and it could kill her. Sometimes I still wonder how my grandmother would have reacted had I told her before she died. She once told me she had a friend who was gay and that she cared about him deeply. I think she would have accepted me. 

The first time my siblings brought it up was when me and my two younger sisters were left in the car while my mom ran into the store. We were listening to music and chatting when my sister asked “so how long did you know you were bi” I was surprised because up until then I hadn’t realized my sisters knew I was bisexual. I explained it to them briefly and asked what they thought of it. They both said they agreed that people should be able to love who they want to love. Though my sister Greta thought it was kinda gross because she didn’t get how two of the same gender could have sex. Still it didn’t change anything for them and they apologized for how our parents had been handling it. I was so thankful for their support. 

By the end of my senior year I was out and proud to all of my peers. I came out to my friend Hannah and Derek's girlfriend Mary at the same time as a casual drop in a conversation. Neither reacted at the time but asked me about it later. Mary more directly wanting to understand as both her and Derek are very religious. While Hannah was more of making a comment about me eyeing a girl that I had a crush on and being obvious. I can’t remember when I came out to my older brother James who lives in a different city. However, he never really questioned it beyond being tense when I brought it up around our parents. I was becoming bold in my identity. I had even written a love poem about about girl (Polly) for an english class assignment to stick it too a homophobic teacher. 

I ended up breaking up with Reese pretty early on my senior year as I realized what I felt for Polly. To this day I still consider my feelings for her the first time I fell in love with someone. I cared about Reese deeply and still do but only ever as a friend. Since we were in middle school people had been pushing us together and while we fit together on paper and from the outside. My feelings inside didn’t match and I didn’t want to lead him on. Polly was the one I truly wanted to be with but the same couldn’t be said for her. She had met a boy in her senior year and they were starting to talk. She really liked him and I was her main confidant for her feelings. I took them and I encouraged her to pursue a relationship with the boy because I knew she felt for him more than she did for me. She loved me but only as a friend. As her and her boyfriend got closer I worked to let go of my feelings for her gradually. 

Meanwhile my parents were like a looming dark cloud and it felt like I was stuck in a cage of some sort anytime I left the shelter of my friends. This only got worse when I graduated that spring and summer rolled around. I tried to get out of the house as much as possible but I didn’t drive and this made things difficult. The relationship between me and my parents began to get more and more strained to the point I almost ran away one night after my mom punched me. 

I began to view leaving for college that fall to be the holy land. My montra became that if I could only survive the summer I could make it. Me and my friend Hannah were going to the same college and going to be roommates. I was going to get to study what I loved and be who I was. I went into survival mode. Then the biggest mental strain hit. 

Every year since I was nine years old I went to church camp for a week in the summer. I had been going longer than I was supposed to because my mom was a leader of the camp and my whole family got to go even Derek and Mary. Normally Hannah would come as well but she had something else come up that year and couldn’t. I knew the place very well and absolutely loved it. It was a time of year I looked forward to and couldn’t wait to go back too especially since I was now a worker at the camp instead of just a camper. 

This year was tougher than most. I was given a lecture about not telling anyone that I was bisexual before I left because if they found out I was gay I wouldn’t be allowed to come back to camp. I was horrified at the idea and tried my best not to think about it. Even when I got a crush on my fellow female camp worker. It was a stressful week and it all culminated one night. 

I can’t tell you whether I believed what I felt in that moment. It all felt like a blur like I was about to shatter under the weight of everything bearing down on me all the lying and fighting. I think part of me wanted to believe that me being gay could be prayed away that night and that I could just stop having to deal with all this pressure. So that’s what happened. I told one of my leaders and they asked me a bunch of questions like had I kissed a girl or had sex and then they prayed for me.  

Afterward I told my mom and she literally cried about it hugging me and thanking God that I was healed. I felt sick and I threw up before I went to sleep that night. 

I went to college that summer as a straight girl and I held on to that label for most of my first semester. I loved college. Me and my roommate/best friend Hannah met three great friends that first semester, Sylas, Kurt, and Randall. Sylas was busy a lot so we mostly hung out with Kurt and Randall. All of us played D&D together and had movie nights. Me and Hannah also found a christian group on campus and got settled there. 

I thought I was happy with my life however I still felt sick and disjointed anytime the concept of homosexuality got brought up. It was a hard time and I prayed about it alot. I talked to some of my church friends about how I had turned back to straight. Until one day a video ended up in my recommendations and it was a ted talk. I clicked on it not realizing what it was and found that it was a gay christan woman talking about how these two factors don’t have to be mutually exclusive in life. I was riveted, I watched the entire video twice and felt my heart be convicted. God never wanted me to be straight; he never wanted me to change who I was. I loved me how I was. It was the people who had the problem. 

The minute Hannah got back to the dorm I came back out to her. Her exact words were “ah so you finally figured that out”. I was so grateful to have her in my life and we talked for hours after that. Not long after I started coming out to people again and in turn Randall came out to us about how he was bisexual as well. I finally felt free again. Going back home that winter was tough, however, it was made better by the support of my friends with regular skype calls and group chat messages. Not to mention since my parents thought I was straight they weren’t pressuring me anymore. 

When I went back to school things were still going great and I ended up meeting a girl named Eve in my EMT class. We immediately hit it off and started talking. It wasn’t long before I formed a huge crush on her but she was getting over a break up and I didn’t want to push. Still we became extremely close. Eventually, she did start dating a guy me and Hannah knew from a gamers club on campus. I had missed my shot. Then I went home for spring break and had to stay due to the COVID-19 pandemic. It was hard being away from my friends and stuck in my parents house. Still we all had regular skype D&D sessions and texted a lot on the groupchat. 

During the months I was stuck at home I got a job working at the local Home Depot. I was excited to work as it was my first real job. My grandmother had owned a family business but I didn’t do much other than stock shelves there. Here I was a cashier and I enjoyed my job a lot even though it could get crazy. Then one day I was at my register and a fellow coworker I was aware worked in the paint department approached my register with a polar pop and asked where her wife was. I was confused and she noticed I was new and said not to worry about it and have a good day. I watched after her and saw her go up and greet my head cashier who was a female and give her the polar pop before heading back to the paint department. I was astounded. 

Not long after I had it confirmed that her and the female head cashier were married. Another cashier came out to me as non-binary and another cashier told me her brother was gay and she’d be the loudest ally ever if anyone tried to mess with me. I felt accepted like nothing else. It was incredible to feel so validated and free to be myself in my workplace. 

Going back to school that fall was difficult due to COVID-19. Me and my friends (Polly as well as she began attending college with us that year) could no longer host D&D at my and Hannah’s dorm like we did before because of the regulations. Thankfully Eve came up with a solution. She was the only one of us who lived off campus in a house she rented. We were welcome there anytime. I still had a massive crush on her and when I found out she had broken up with her boyfriend over the summer I almost asked her out. However, another guy had beaten me to it. We ended up going over to Eve’s house multiple times a week and I would go even when the rest of the group wasn’t before long I was sleeping over at her house regularly. Often when it wasn’t even planned. I was even dubbed the most responsible friend by her grandmother who absolutely loved me. 

Then her boyfriend at the time dumped her. The entire group rallied to comfort and support her. She took it really hard and I stayed over for a weekend to make sure she was alright. My feelings really started to grow as we got more physically intimate with cuddling and laying in bed together still it was all considered platonic. I really wanted to ask her out but didn’t know when it was too soon. Hannah and Polly both encouraged me to ask her out. 

Then another boy showed up in her life. I was greatly concerned and disheartened as their relationship was progressing in her typical pattern. I thought I had missed my chance. However, the boy made a fatal mistake as Eve is demisexual. She doesn’t like moving into physical contact beyond cuddling too quickly if at all and he started to push her to kiss him. She immediately stopped the relationship after he made overt moves that disregarded her clearly made boundaries and he was derogatory toward her. 

About one or two weeks later I was over at her house one evening and we were talking about him and dating and life. I finally took a deep breath and told her there was something I needed to tell her and I was afraid it would ruin our friendship. I confessed to her that I liked her and wanted to date her. I didn’t ask her out specifically though because she has told me in the past she has trouble saying no so I left out the question and simply told her how I felt to do with what she felt was right. 

She was shocked and immediately started smiling saying she liked me too. I was elated. We talked more about how we had been feeling and how we had both been worried about what the other would say and how she had been blind to my pining which apparently her last serious boyfriend had picked up on and was why he dumped her. (He later told her that he saw how we were together and began to see that me and her fit better than him and her and he wanted us to be together.) We started dating that night and I immediately called Hannah and Polly to tell them the news joking that since I couldn’t tell my parents that I wanted to tell them and they jokingly responded by giving Eve a talking to about not hurting me. 

The next couple months were ups and downs but me and Eve had each other to support and our relationship was very steady. One night when I was having a depressive episode because of my school situation (I was failing my virtual classes). I called my brother James to vent to him. While he was comforting me I told him that I had a girlfriend and he was immediately accepting, asking all about her and acting like it was normal until I brought it up specifically her being female. He assured me it didn’t matter and that he still wanted to meet her but wouldn’t tell my parents. 

That winter I had to go home again for break which would be a couple months. Eve gave me her spare PS4 and a headset so we could play games together long distance and we spent our last couple days together as much as we could. Prior to me leaving she surprised me with necklaces for us that were each half of the star wars rebels symbol. Her’s had the phrase “I love you” engraved on it and mine had the phrase “I Know”. 

That winter I missed her even after going back to work and finding that another character that is a part time drag queen got added to the staff. They also pretty much adopted me and my head cashier came out to me as gender-fluid. All of them were proud to hear I had a girlfriend and I was finally able to tell someone not my family all about her. I missed her a ton. So me and Eve came up with a plan. 

After some figuring with my parents she was able to come visit for a couple days between Christmas and New Years as my “good friend”. It was a great time. My three siblings that were there all knew she was my girlfriend, my little sisters having figured it out when the three of us were talking. One of my sister Georgie admitted that she was considering herself to maybe be asexual and my sister Greta (who at one point said being gay was gross) came out to me as also being bisexual. We all are able to support each other. 

Eve’s visit went really well and my parents adored her and she adored my parents. Though it was stressful especially right after she left and my grandmother who was visiting asked -- at the dining room table where me, my grandparents, my parents, and all my siblings were sat-- “did your girlfriend leave?” There was a split second where me and my siblings shared a telepathic moment of panic before remembering that in my grandmother’s vernacular she simply meant my friend that was a girl and I simply answered yes. 

As winter break moved along I began to discuss other options with my parents about my schooling. With my ADHD and my manner of learning, virtual classes were not working for me. I had failed most of my online classes meanwhile being near the top of my classes in my in person classes. It was an obvious disparity the only exception being my math class which was a hybrid class and I will admit was a failure mostly due to my lack of ability to understand math. 

I’d already been considering the idea since my depressive episode calling James who’d been the one to suggest it during the fall semester. But now the conversation was whether or not I would sit out the spring semester. After some discussion and the fact that I didn’t have a job in my college town but did at home and Hannah wouldn’t be coming back to school after graduating early. Meaning I wouldn’t have a roommate. (Polly and me had a fight and are not on speaking terms). The decision was finally made I would not be returning to college in the spring. 

It was a hard decision and I had to tell Eve. I took sometime to figure out what I would say since I knew it was going to be hard. Finally I worked out the words and told her that was going to be gone for longer than planned. I knew long distance would be hard and suggest we try to make plans to stay in closer contact with each other that way it wouldn’t be as bad. I’d told her when we first started dating that communication was the most important thing to me in a relationship. 

A week passed and we didn’t really discuss it as we were both busy with our individual jobs. Then I got a text from her saying she wanted to talk. The next text I received was her breaking up with me. She said she didn’t want to be the only one making the effort to see each other since she had a car and license and I didn’t. She further said she didn’t want me to feel like I wasn’t getting what I wanted out of the relationship since she was into physical intimacy. She’d decided we should break up and that was that. But she still wanted to be friends because she liked my family. 

I was very placated in my response. It was a complete shock. Both because it was over text and also it had seemingly come from nowhere. She’d never communicated such feelings to me. 

I reassured her that I never felt like I wasn’t getting what I wanted out of the relationship. I also told her we could still be friends but that it would take us time to figure out our balance with each other. 

I called texted James when it happened and he asked if I was okay. I responded with I don’t know and he immediately called me. We talked for a while and he comforted me about the situation. The next person I told was Alex. They comforted me as well and we figured out a day where we could hang out, watch movies and eat ice cream as the normal break up fix it. I was grateful for both their support. 

I was hurt by Eve’s actions. I took a risk bringing her to my home with my parents. If they had found anything out about us. I don’t know what would have happened and to call it quits without even trying to work through it or communicate how she was feeling. It felt like I wasn’t worth the effort of her feelings or time and investment. 

I’d made the first draft of this before the break up and the ending had read “I hope one day I will be be to get support from my parents as well but even if I can’t, I hope that I will st least be able to be my true self around them and introduce Eve as my girlfriend” 

That’s changed now. I don’t just hope that I can introduce someone as my girlfriend I hope that whoever I bring home will be accepted by my family for who they are and me for who I am. I’m not straight. I never have been. I might marry a man someday I might marry a woman but whoever I bring home. I will still be bisexual and I will never stop trying to be a voice for those who can’t speak up. Once I’m not under my parents roof. I hope I can live my true life and help those who have been muzzled and closeted for far to long as I have.

#my life #personal story #me #nonfiction #autobiography #this is me #bisexual #growing up #lgbt #gay #asexual #allies #friends and family #supportive friends #homophobia #church #christianity #being gay and christian #I am a bisexual christian genderfluid #being who you are #coming out #closet #dating #breakup #college #D&D #girlfriend #boyfriend #girl dating girl #nonbinary

[iwritethat]

Tim Drake: Belonging

A/N: Alrighty, links to Rogue One but can be read seperately of course. This is how (Y/n) and Tim met, set a few years before...

>>>>——————————>

Another day, another gala to attend in order to promote Drake Industries despite his parents constant travels, they made time to appear at Gothams’ formalities on occasion. This was one of those times.

Only his usual plans of being bored and wondering around aimlessly were unexpectedly sabotaged by her. By a beautiful wealthy guest who radiated class and elegance beyond her years, a complete newcomer in his eyes, a youthful presence that would effortlessly attract undivided attention in her future maturity. By you.

Tim was swept away by an enigma, the only word prominent enough in his scramble of thoughts to describe the character, with the band playing a slow dancing melody it made it easier for him to focus on the mysterious beauty in front of him.

"You don't belong here, do you?" Came your calculating yet pleased tone, your fingers gently dancing on his shoulder.

"Who- of course I do, my parents run a successful industry."

"I said you, not your parents. You just seem to stand out to me, that's all." You were so carefree, offering an aura no else in the proximity ever possessed and he’d be lying if he hadn’t already been lured in.

"Is that why you whisked me off, oh strange one?" It made him feel relaxed, his better judgment warning him of mesmerising strangers but the small threads of personality he’d been entangled in so far encouraged him to ignore it.

"Yes that, and I needed to blend in momentarily but that’s a completely irrevelevant topic. So to thank you for your unwitting aid, let me tell you a secret: I don't belong here either." You whispered the last part in his ear, causing him to become noticeably flustered - you were both young, probably the first female to ever get this close to him by your deductions.

"I'm Timothy Drake..." The young man started, assuring to meet your gaze once you'd pulled back.

"(Y/n) (L/n), great to stumble into you."

"You too, so what brings you here?" Now it was his turn to inquire, and a complicated conversation ensued - one that left you both eager to learn more but after your brief disappearance it became apparent your first meeting was to be cut short.

"Call me!" He registered your voice before your sudden rushed appearance by his side, a kiss placed on his cheek as you briskly checked your surroundings.

"I don't have your number!"

"Check your phone, I stole it when we danced and added it whilst I was gone." You smugly shot back, tossing the young man his phone before swiftly making an exit and it was moments later that outraged shouts echoed from the top floor - who exactly were you?!

.

Tim assumed that would be the last he saw of you, a welcomed abnormality that was a breath of fresh air in his otherwise predictable life. The name you'd given provided very little - if anything - in his online research but your number had proven valid and became his chosen method of communication. However, in all his carefully constructed scenarios, the last place he expected to stumble across anyone of the like would be in the rundown rings of Gothams back alleys when inspecting a rumour he'd overheard from the rebellious seniors at school.

The atmosphere was rowdy yet electrifying, alcoholic beverages littered the area, attendees wore too little clothing for the chilling breeze of a Gotham evening and recognisable Hip Hop tracks blared from the boasting speakers inbuilt into the boots of various strikingly customised cars. Anyone of his stature would be out of place here, thus grateful for his hoodie which allowed him to blend in a little better - he swiftly dodged cheering onlookers as engines roared through the streets and it was almost overwhelming to the senses but at the same time intoxicating, crews hovered around their vehicles to prepare it for the next race all whilst endorsing the flirtatious antics of fans but through all of the commotion a constrastingly gentle tug of his hood caused him to hesitate.

"You're the guy I met at the gala yeah?" You casually chimed with a soft smirk and raised brow, arm resting on your hip as he turned to you after releasing his red hoodie. He had no prepared answer, looking you up and down with a cracked “Yes.”

You shook your head with a quiet but amused chuckle, smoothly entwining your fingers to pull a still semi unresponsive Timothy away from the delinquent crowd to speak more freely.

"What are you doing here?" The teen finally manged to ask once regaining his composure though upon reflection, Tim shouldn't be here either but since it was only a tiny detour he saw no harm in indulging his curiosity of the vigilante lifestyle. Was it so bad to want to see Batman in action? This is something he'd want to intercept right?

"Same thing as you, accidental wrong turn." You smugly commented obviously lying and sassing Tim whilst glancing back to the 'entertainment' briefly with a smirk.

"Maybe I chose to come here." Tim was more confident this time, almost as if trying to impress you but instead you only snorted.

"Mmhmm, I doubt a richboy like you would be at a drag race rally by choice so you must be following some lead."

"Don't call me that, and you're right - I was. I wanted to see if -" Before Tim could elaborate, an ear splitting skid of breaks were heard as well as the uproar from attendees which wasn't uncommon for you.

He'd noticed your natural instincts in the situation, the way you'd located an escape route in almost 2 seconds flat and had interlaced your fingers to take him with you once more. It dawned on him then, that this was your scene despite how effortlessly you'd merged into his world of upperclass diligence - maybe that was your origin and this your choice, he'd never know nor would he be able to ask under the current chaotic circumstances.

"Have you ever driven one of these before?!" Tim shot as he slid into the deserted Lamborghini you'd practically shoved him toward, yourself more concerned with hot wiring.

"Not legally..."

"Then we should - crap!" Before he could even propose a safer alternative you'd ignited the engine and sped through the streets leaving the sirens and Batman behind.

There was something about it, as new as the adrenaline and excitement were it felt right - even Drake noted the natural gift you possessed and the way you seemed to come alive at the wheel. Tim didn't ask where you were headed, nor did he particularly care so long as you both emerged scathe free whilst you drove through the barrier of an old abandoned multi-story carpark and raced straight to the top, parking rather carelessly across the parking spaces but it served your purpose.

Tim followed as you got out of the purple Lamborghini, strolling over to the edge and sitting atop the wall peaking at the 7th story.

"C'mon richboy, this is my favourite place in the city." You beckoned him with playful wink, turning your attention to the neon lights of skyscrapers, vehicle headlights that seemed to leave a glowing trail as they sped down motorways and street lamps that blended together to create a cosmos of multicoloured stars amidst Gotham's dark skyline.

"It's - it's so beautiful." The boy breathed, soon cautiously joining you on the ledge allowing the wind to grace him with a sense of what could only be felt as weightless freedom.

It made him briefly forget the fact you'd just stolen a car to save the two of you from the rain of rapid fire gunshots, forget all of the questions he'd held regarding your mismatched past and present, and more importantly the persistent stress he always carried in his shoulders. Because of you. A woman he'd encountered twice but felt as though he'd known for years.

"I know right, it helps me think and I thought it'd help you too."

"Why?" Your thoughtfulness caught him off guard, so much so that his tone sounded disbelieving. No one usually gave this much thought to his well-being, his parents mainly too concerned with travels to properly delve into his life.

"Because you need to know what freedom feels like, to have the weight lifted from your shoulders. For you to be Tim Drake rather than an heir to a fortune. I've seen it all before but you're different, I can feel it and this is the world Tim, you can be whoever you want." There was a sincerity and softness to your voice that he wasn't expecting, like you knew exactly how he felt because you'd experienced it too once upon a time. Maybe you had?

"I want this, to see sights like these and I want to make the city a better place but I’m not sure where to start. I admire Batman who does it in his own way, but he's wavering now, he needs a Robin." Over text you couldn't read each other's emotions or disclose personal desires like you were currently and feeling Tim trust you in such a way eased your self doubts.

"Wait - you came to the rally for a potential Batman sighting, ah you’ve got to be kidding me! Not surprised though, you strike me as an undercover nerd.” You cheerfully laughed to yourself, taking a brief glance at Tim who now wore a deadpan expression.

“Thanks (Y/n), I’m so glad I ran into you again.” He playfully pushed your shoulder in mock offence before issuing his sarcastic reply.

“Sorry sorry, but if that's the case why don't you be his Robin?" The way you’d said it made it seem like a possibility, like something he could easily achieve and not once had he felt that way - it wasn’t enough to completely nullify his doubts however.

"It's not that easy, I'd have to know who Batman is for a start."

"So find out. You're definitely smart enough, I know you have the detective skills to do that - it's why we ended up here tonight after all." In contrast to the less than ideal situation, you remained calm and carefree whilst Tim only felt guilty for being a hindrance.

"Sorry about that."

"It's not a complaint, if anything it's a thank you, I hope our misguided adventure helps to find where you belong. Besides, there's no one else I'd rather share this spot with." Now you diverted your gaze from the city, furrowing your brows at his apology before nudging your side against his as a form of friendly comfort alongside your words.

"Agreed, but what about you? Have you found where you belong?" The atmosphere was dripping with meaningful contentment so you weren't surprised by his inquiry but it was much harder to answer than you'd anticipated. Considering you’d been trying to find the answer to that very question for many years now.

"Me? I never thought I'd fit anywhere but, maybe there's hope..." Subconsciously your gaze drifted to the fine technology behind you as you trailed off. It was almost a natural gift, something you could nurture into masterful skill if built upon meticulously.

.

It was both by accident and on purpose, maybe a subconscious need to see one another that lead you to the same place hoping you'd cross paths. You did - multiple times, leading to deep conversations, meaningful gestures and frivolous takeouts under the stars. You'd developed a covet friendship, one that no person would put together just by looking at the two of you - in fact you were rarely seen together at all. Individual reputation and associates probably inspired that ritual.

Tonight, he'd caught the chip you'd aimed at his mouth with a proud grin and fist pump, yourself admiring the casual side of the Drake heir with bemusement - it was one shielded from the public eye to refine an image of a future heir but that pretence was disregarded at times like these.

"So this is a congratulations for finding out Bats' real name, don't worry I'm not gonna ask." You waved him off, though he seemed mystified with how you could read him so gracefully.

"Thanks (Y/n), for being respectful about it and setting me on the right life path. I would honestly love to tell you, but there’s still some work I’ve gotta do. Hey, what about you? Any updates on where you think you're headed?"

He expected your silence, the way you took your time as you gazed off at the vibrantly lit skyline with a look of concern which lead him to continue.

"Or who with?"

This snapped your attention to him immediately wearing a shocked expression, almost offended at the thought of it being someone rather than something that would bring you fulfilment.

"Hah! Relying on someone only gets you hurt, I'm not that stupid Tim, not anymore - which is why I'm so determined to find my place in the world. It'll be my decision with no one to take it from me.” It was a bitter subject, but Tim could hear the emotion in your tone and offered an understanding smile, one you gratefully returned.

.

After that your paths began to separate, you didn't need anyone and that was a fact Tim was reluctantly forced to accept, but with his extracurricular activities and adoption distracting him, it made the whole ordeal easier. Although a silent pact was forged, from the fragments of 'what could've been' if you will, whether you chose to vocalise its existence or not. No matter how far apart, you would always be there for each other - it would only take one call to reunite as though you'd never left another's side. And you’d hoped it remained intact.

.

Now, 2 years had gone by, and you'd found yourself caught in the crosshairs of a police raid where the latest local race was, strategically deciding not to compete but instead scope your next competitors. Though you knew what took place behind the scenes to attract such attention, as a result you'd been prepared for the cops - but not for them. In an instant you'd used the commotion as a distraction, ducking out from the back of the bridge and onto the street where you’d be home free.

Until you saw him waiting for you.

"You finally found it." You cross your arms, leaning back against your custom motorcycle with an expectant look directed at the new vigilante standing before you.

Robin offered a smirk at your calm behaviour, you knew exactly who’d been wearing the mantle and you didn't see Tim Drake as a threat.

"I did. Although I'm not so sure about yours..."

"Because we're on opposite sides of the law now?" You quipped, tilting your head rather bemused with the untimely reunion.

"I never wanted to fight you (Y/n)."

"Neither. But this is where I belong Tim, and it's not a serious felony - a few drag races here and there, no harm done. A woman has gotta earn a living, and I happen to be very good at it." You playfully shrugged now only centimetres between you both.

"It's not just races though, is it." Tim knew, obviously, and he deduced that it wasn't news to you either but that didn't disguise the genuine worry in his voice.

"No, but I'm okay richboy. Don't worry about me, and if you ever need me you have my number."

"You got a new private line remember?" He recalled, having once slipped up in his contemplations to call you only to find the number out of use. Most likely because it was too easy to trace, in your world - a potentially fatal mistake.

"Yes I did, and I've already inputted into this." Came your nonchalant reply as you handed over his communicator, fingers lingering a little too long against his own as if holding on to each other for a few more seconds would convey everything.

"I'll have to arrest you eventually."

"Then catch me. If you can that is." You stepped backwards, a hand beckoning him to dare to follow as you hopped on your bike and sped off with a wink.

Robin mirrored your movement, starting up his own engine as he watched you round a corner but shut it down again with a soft smile.

"Why didn't you go after her?" Batman's voiced sternly echoed in his ear, the dark knight perched on an overlooking rooftop as Robin turned to face his direction whilst speaking into Comms.

"My bike stalled, she was already gone." Bruce furrowed his brows, the motorbike was in perfect condition before they'd left but regardless he felt there was a deeper meaning to Robins leniency, one that was out of his understanding.

With one call. No matter the distance or time that passed.

He'd come.

And so would you.

#tim drake #tim drake imagine #tim drake x reader #dc #dc imagine

[msjr0119]

The Greatest Show

Never Enough - Part 2

A new series- all chapters are based on each song from ‘The Greatest Showman’

Characters belong to Pixelberry except MC - Amber Smith-Beaumont

Warnings: Swearing, sarcasm 😉, smut

Tags - using combined tagged list, if you want to be removed please let me know 👍🏼

@annekebbphotography @burnsoslow @drakesensworld @ladyangel70 @kingliam2019 @bbrandy2002 @butindeed @bascmve01 @drakewalker04 @pedudley @captain-kingliamsqueen @duchessemersynwalker @insideamirage @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @kozabaji @texaskitten30 @ibldw-main @kimmiedoo5 @nikkis1983 @dangerouseggseagleartisan @gnatbrain @walker7519 @lodberg @cmestrella @hopefulmoonobject @addictedtodrakefanfic @angi15h @liamxs-world @rafasgirl23415 @notoriouscs @yukinagato2012 @dcbbw @qammh-blog @nz1091 @beardedoafdonutwagon @cordonianroyalty @custaroonie @indiacater @seriouslybadchoices @rainbowsinthestorm @princess-geek @jared2612 @desiree-0816

READ PART 1 FIRST****

******

Amber had helped Olivia prepare for the ball at Lythikos. Usually they would enjoy their first day skiing, ice skating, completing activities- but Olivia thought about getting the ball over and done with then they can all enjoy themselves.

“Wow you look amazing Amber! Take that as a compliment- Walker will be drooling all over you.” Twirling around in the golden dress, that was v neck flaunting her assets- Olivia placed the fur shawl around her to give her the complete look.

“As do you. He’s amazing Liv I don’t understand why you detest him so much. Do you think he used me for sex?”

“We are like marmite, we’ve always had this love/hate relationship. I’ve put you next door to each other- so if you want to sneak in some sexy time you can do. I’ve left you a present too. I haven’t seen him this way before- he is definitely falling in love with you- if he hasn’t already.” Amber eyed Olivia up and down, intrigued as to what it was her mystery gift was. The duchess had given her hope that Drake had been sincere with his words and actions, smiling to herself they headed to the ballroom. Both ladies greeted Olivia’s guests as they arrived, the men turned up to together.

“He’s even wearing a suit for you. He never wears suits.” Olivia whispered to her new friend, noticing her turn a shade of red.

“Amber, you look more beautiful every time I see you.”

“Thank you. You look very handsome.” Madeleine overheard the conversation and immediately informed Kiara and Penelope. Knowing now was possibly the time to cause an scandal regarding the Beaumont’s- if Amber was a threat to her friend, she would sort it out promptly. Once all the guests had arrived, drinks and canapés were handed out as the nobles socialised. Drake kept his distance away from Amber to avoid gossip- however he couldn’t help himself admire her, stealing glances, providing the star crossed lovers act.

Kiara came over towards Olivia and Amber, with Penelope following shortly behind as if she was some shadow.

“Duchess Olivia, it’s wonderful to be here again. C’est beau.”

“Merci ... now what is the real reasoning for you disturbing me? Shouldn’t you be trying to dig your claws into a man who will never return the feelings?”

“No, you know how I love to sing when there is a live band. I wondered if I could do that after the dancing. I’ve got a song in mind.” Narrowing her eyes towards Amber, she knew with the help from her friends she could sway Drake away from the Beaumont girl.

“Do whatever Kiara. Just make sure you sing in fucking English. There’s only so much french I can tolerate.”

The band started playing the Cordonian waltz, Liam knew he had to play fair with the suitors. “I’ll dance with Amber, you dance with Liv- then swap. I know you hate Liv but at least you can dance with the girl of your dreams.” Drake nodded, wondering how he was going to convince Olivia to be so close to him.

“Lady Amber may I have this dance?” Liam asked, as he bowed.

“Of course your Highness.” Amber curtsied, allowing Liam to guide her on to the dance floor.

“Come on Liv, sooner we get this over with sooner I can get rid of you.”

“Couldn’t have put it better myself. Just don’t come too close! I haven’t got my hand sanitizer on me.” Drake dragged her onto the dance floor, not gracefully - during their awkward dance they couldn’t help but insult each other. Liam overheard, and began to laugh.

“Why is Drake dancing with Olivia? He never dances!” Kiara wasn’t jealous with the fact that he was dancing with Olivia, it was more a stab in the heart that after all these years she had been rejected when she had offered.

“Don’t worry about it Ki, I have a plan. Here’s some wine. I’m looking forward to your performance later babe.” Kiara noticed that it was time to change partner, he’s in her arms now. Viewing how differently he danced with Amber- was a constant stab in heart that kept reoccurring. His eyes lit up, he held her lovingly. Wishing that she had been more persistent in trying to woo the only man she had feelings for, she knew she needed help from her two friends before it was too late.

“Hey beautiful.”

“Charmer. How was your dance with Olivia?”

“Stiff. But now I’m with you, I feel like the world has melted away.” Smiling at him, he noticed the twinkle in her eyes.

“Kiara is giving us dagger eyes.”

“So?” Drake said abruptly, not caring about her- he didn’t want to ruin this time with Amber.

“I’m just saying. You’ve improved dancing by the way.”

“Well after last night, I watched a bit of YouTube. I didn’t want to make you look like a fool because I can’t dance.”

“Is it wrong that I want to kiss you in front of everyone?”

“I was thinking the same thing.”

“Well if you fancy a sleepover later, Liv has left us a surprise.”

Drake wondered why Olivia was rooting for them all of a sudden, why she would leave them a gift- he knew that she didn’t feel threatened by Amber compared to the likes of Madeleine, so his mind was working over time due to Olivia having a kind heart.

“May I cut in?” For fuck sake, Drake muttered to himself. His smile had soon disappeared.

“Of course Lady Kiara. Thank you for the dance Drake.” Walking away she could tell how awkward it was but she was keeping up appearances for the Beaumont’s even though half the court knew about her secret rendezvous with Drake. Maxwell offered to dance with her, asking gossip about her and Drake- Amber couldn’t help but wonder what Kiara was talking about with Drake.

“How come you are suddenly dancing?” Asking him with a stern tone of voice.

“Well it’s Liam’s social season. He’s my best friend, I have to make an effort.”

“So it’s nothing to do with HER then? You didn’t dance during Leo’s social season.” Emphasising the word her, he could detect jealousy in her tone of voice.

“Even if it was anything to do with Amber, you and I aren’t close- I wouldn’t class you as a friend Kiara. You are more of an acquaintance. I don’t understand why you all have this hatred towards her.”

“Do you love her?” Seeing her eyes well up with tears, he did feel guilty- but he had never provided her with any indications that he felt the same way.

“I like her. She’s an amazing girl, she’s even tamed Olivia. Be nice to her Kiara, you may become friends one day.” No chance, you are mine Drake.

“We’ll see. Merci for the dance. Maybe do it again sometime?”

******

Madeline noticed that Amber was on her own at the bar, taking this opportunity to pounce - she knew people hated her, what would it matter if she added one more enemy to the list.

“Lady Amber, I thought I’d officially introduce myself as we didn’t get the chance to at the lawn party. I thought you’d be thrilled to have the prince kiss someone of your standard.”

“How about go fuck yourself COUNTESS. I don’t need you to introduce yourself.”

“How rude! I’d have thought Duke Bertrand would have taught you some manners by now. Although your mother, Marie was a commoner with no manners. The only manners she had was when she opened her legs to all the men around here. What was her nickname again? Oh yes. Minx Marie the poor sad little maid. I assume Marie didn’t inform you of who your father is?” Gritting her teeth, she knew about her mother’s situation- how she struggled in life, how she appreciated life considering the hardship she faced.

“My family life has nothing to do with you. I am fully aware about my father, my ancestry and my family. Maybe you should concentrate on your own life! I mean, you couldn’t even keep Leo on a leash. Maybe if you didn’t wear a sour face and be nice to people - some men may actually like you.” Madeleine burst out cackling, Amber wasn’t sure what she had said to make her react that way. An insult usually made people angry or upset.

“You have no clue do you? Did you enjoy sucking Drakes dick last night? I overheard the men talk about about your secret rendezvous. I thought us women were supposed to stick together? You waltz in here, steal the only man that Kiara ever loved....”

“It doesn’t matter! He doesn’t love her! She’s obsessed with a man that will never return the feelings!”

“What and he loves you?”

“I didn’t say that!”

“Good. Now I have a little secret regarding you - my daddy once told me. King Constantine, Regina and Leo also know. Do you want to know?”

“Either way you are going to tell me!”

“You aren’t a Beaumont. You are Jackson Walker’s daughter- Drakes sister.”

“You’re lying.”

“Go and ask other people. I’d never hurt anyone- as I said us women stick together. One gets hurt we defend them immediately.” Turning her head towards her friends, she wanted to be sick- she wanted to runaway and never return. Unable to control her shaking body, she returned her gaze towards the blonde who was smirking. Amber pulled her fist back, before hitting Maddy straight in the nose- blood immediately pouring out rapidly.

“STAY AWAY FROM ME - I AM A BEAUMONT, BUT MOST IMPORTANTLY I’M A NEW YORKER! DON’T MESS WITH US MADDY! OH BY THE WAY- I’LL SEND YOU RECOMMENDATIONS FOR A PLASTIC SURGEON, I HEARD THEY ARE FAB BACK HOME!” Gasps began to echo around the ballroom, Olivia clapped whilst sipping champagne- she loved Amber, but was now worried what she would do to Drake if he ever hurt her. Kiara and Penelope ran over to their friend, placing some ice towards her nose to prevent any swelling. Leo suggested that he would run after amber, explaining that he knew how Madeleines mind worked due to their failed engagement.

*****

Following Amber onto the balcony, he immediately felt the ice cold air hit his lungs- hoping she would return inside sooner rather than later.

“Suture! There you are. What’s up girl? Ignore whatever Madeleine said she just enjoys making people’s life a misery. Nice shot by the way, I think you’ve broken her nose.”

“I don’t care. She deserved it. Do you know who my father is?” Don’t fucking lie to me please.

“Amber. Your mom was lovely, my father always spoke highly of her. She was a hard worker. It was a mistake what happened here- and it’s turned out to be a beautiful mistake. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you before, I wanted to tell you- I really did.”

“Why couldn’t you tell me? We had unprotected sex- if I wasn’t on the pill and I became pregnant.... I’ve slept with my fucking brother.” She slept with Max or Bertrand? No that’s just wrong.

“I’m going to be sick. I knew I shouldn’t have come here. It broke my mom. I only came for summers because she knew I needed to spend time with dads side of the family. Can I kiss you?”

“What?”

“Can I kiss you? I need to kiss you.” Before he could reply, she quickly kissed him. “See I feel nothing towards you. Why did I feel something towards my own brother? Oh my god. I need to leave. I can’t breathe.” Beginning to hyperventilate, Leo could kill his ex fiancée for causing all of this.

“Amber! Breathe. Okay, count with me- 1,2,3,4,5.....” Following his instructions, she slowed her breathing down, after a while he escorted her back inside - getting her a whiskey he knew she needed something stronger.

*****

Kiara got in position to begin her performance, Leo and Amber joined the rest of the guests on the dance floor.

I'm trying to hold my breath

Let it stay this way

Can't let this moment end

You set off a dream in me

Kiara focused her gaze towards only Drake, noticing her- he narrowed his eyes, all he was thinking about was Amber- and what had instigated the commotion between her and Madeleine.

Getting louder now

Can you hear it echoing?

Take my hand

Will you share this with me?

'Cause darling without you

All the shine of a thousand spotlights

All the stars we steal from the nightsky

Will never be enough

Never be enough

Maxwell began to believe this song had some personal meaning, following Kiara’s gaze- she never kept her eyes off Drake.

“Shit man, she’s singing this song to you. She’s saying she could have everything in this world but all she wants is you.”

“I don’t care Max, she’s never meant anything to me. I’m falling in love with your cousin- I’ve slept with many noble women before, blurry experiences. Half the time I can’t remember their names but with Amber it felt different- something was there.”

“Do you see a future with her?” Drake nodded, Maxwell knew how guarded Drake usually was- he was happy for his friend and cousin.

“Look after her buddy. I trust that you will.”

Towers of gold are still too little

These hands could hold the world but it'll

Never be enough

Never be enough

Drake walked closer towards Amber, standing next to her- he lingered his hand close to hers. Needing to not cause anymore scenes she focused her gaze on Kiara- feeling his fingers brush against hers, he forced them to intertwine. Gulping, she could feel her breathing increase. You are my brother. Please let go of me Drake.

All the shine of a thousand spotlights

All the stars we steal from the nightsky

Will never be enough

Never be enough

Towers of gold are still too little

These hands could hold the world but it'll

Never be enough

Never be enough

Observing Kiara focus her attention on Drake, Amber couldn’t take it anymore. The jealousy and guilt. Drake deserved Kiara. Removing her hand out of his, she provided her friends with sorrow in her eyes- before running out of the ballroom. Olivia knew Drake would want to follow her immediately but motioned for him to stay out for the mean time.

For me

Never, never

Never, never

Never, for me

For me

Never enough

Never, never

Never enough

Never, never

Never enough

For me

For me

For me

Once Kiara had finished, everyone clapped even though half of the guests wasn’t keen on her- they were just being polite. Walking over to Drake, Kiara smiled. “One day Drake, you will understand how much you mean to me. I love you. I always have and I always will.” Gritting his teeth, he couldn’t stand the way she made him feel suffocated- he was impressed with how intellectual she was, but for him he had no feelings towards her.

Leo scrutinised the room for the witch, noticing her attention seeking regarding the ‘abuse’ she had received, he dragged Madeleine into their friendship circle. None of them would allow her to escape until she explained the reasoning behind her busted nose.

“What did you say to Amber? People don’t go around punching people. Not that I blame her. I loved the entertainment, does it hurt? Poor little Maddy.” Olivia had no empathy towards the snake.

“I told her the truth about her father!”

“Why couldn’t you just leave it out. She doesn’t care- she will be a Beaumont no matter what.”

“Can someone please tell us what is going off?” Liam asked softly.

“Amber thinks she’s slept with her family member- she was freaking out about it. Max, have you or Bertrand ever slept with her?” Leo knew he sounded ridiculous asking this, he knew they wasn’t aware that Amber was their sister- but they were believed to be her ‘cousins’ and wouldn’t have that type of relationship.

“Are you fucking insane? She’s our cousin!” Madeleine continued smirking, watching the havoc that she had caused erupt.

“Madeleine the truth! What exactly did you say? Future kings orders so be careful with your wording.”

“Drake belongs to Kiki. Not some love child. I told her that her mother slept around with all men here- I told her that Jackson was her biological father. I must blame the alcohol for rushing to my head- getting me all confused, her father is Barthelemy. Little miss perfect is your sister Maxi.”

#trr #trr fanfic #trr the greatest show #drake x mc #drake walker #liam rhys #leo rhys #trr olivia #trr madeleine #trr kiara #trr amber beaumont

[takingcourage]

Additions: Part 3

Pairing: Jaime x MC

Word Count: 5,050

Summary: As the school year begins and tensions mount, Jaime and Arden start to wonder if they might be out of their depth.

Note: This chapter has been fighting me for the past two weeks, probably because it represents the true low point of the story and I hate making these characters suffer. While it’s not going to be completely smooth sailing from here on out, I can assure you that things will be better in Part 4. 

Warning: This section contains references to childhood depression and self-harm. There’s nothing graphic or gratuitous, but the mentions may still be upsetting. Please read at your own discretion.

August, 2027

“You keep spacing out over there. Should I be concerned?”

Smiling coyly, Arden glanced up from her carton of stir fry. Jaime sat across their dining room table, a half-eaten spring roll held between his fingers. It was the first time in days that she’d actually taken a proper look at him, and she was a little disappointed that she couldn’t do more than just look.

In seven years of marriage, his appearance had remained relatively unchanged. His eyes were still thoughtful and kind, his hair thick and just unruly enough to be perfect without him having to try. Maybe it was just his glorious golden tan skewing her perceptions, but she could swear that becoming a father had made him infinitely more attractive.  

Probably just wishful thinking since I don’t have him to myself anymore, she mused, meeting his inquiring eyes with decision. “Can’t I enjoy having a lunch date with my husband?”

His demeanor warmed. “I’ve kind of missed having time for just the two of us.”

“Me too. If these monthly meetings mean getting some of that time back, I’m all for them.”

She knew neither one of them would choose to change their circumstances. Having time together with the kids meant the world to both of them, but it also meant that things were different.

“These days, I feel like I’m lucky to get ten minutes alone with you before we go to bed.” Jaime chewed his last bite of spring roll contemplatively. “And even then, we’re usually talking about the kids.”  

“I know. By the time we make it to our room, we’re so exhausted that there’s usually just enough time to exchange a few sentences before we pass out. It’s not like we have time for a lot of conversation…or anything else.” Arden stretched a leg toward him, gently toeing his bare shin.

His eyebrows raised at the contact, but there was a sparkle of humor in his deep brown eyes. “Maybe we should start having these meetings more often?”

“I’d love to, but with all the projects you have slated for the rest of the year, I don’t think it’s very feasible. But we’ll keep finding ways to spend time together, I’m sure.” With a wink, she straightened back into her seat. “Besides, that’s not what we’re here for now anyway. We’re supposed to be comparing notes and making sure we’re still on the same page about parenting.”

“So we are.” In spite of his jocular tone, she knew he hadn’t forgotten. “All right, getting down to business.” He pulled a notecard from his pocket, unfolded it, and laid it between them on the wooden surface. “Question 1: What are your highs and lows of the first full week of school?”

Arden took a long sip from her glass of water. They’d prepared the questions beforehand, so she’d known exactly what was coming, but it was still difficult to separate the events of the past five days into those two extremes.

The week had been filled with so many little triumphs, from Sophia making band to Alex finally waking up on his own without needing a full half-hour of reminders. But in the end, one stood out.

“I think my high was getting that email from Will’s teacher. He’s a social guy at home, but I was afraid that he might struggle to connect with with kids in class. Hearing that he’s been making friends was really heartening.” Jaime’s lips parted, and she paused to let him speak.

“I especially liked what she said about him seeking out the shy kids during recess. He reminds me a lot of someone I knew when I was about his age…” Jaime’s voice trailed, but he ended the sentiment with a meaningful nod. 

Arden smirked at his suggestion. “Maybe we should pack some ice-cream bars in his lunch?”

“That might not be such a bad idea,” he said with a low laugh. 

Eyes crinkling affectionately, she shook her head and fished out another bite of vegetables. Despite the momentary diversion, she knew they needed to get back to the other half of his question. “Now for the hard part. My low was…Alex’s attitude about school and his refusal to talk about it. I keep hearing his thoughts about how stupid it is, but I can’t ask him anything pointed unless he actually tells me out loud.”

Jaime pinched his entree open with a sigh. “I think that’s probably mine too. He keeps shutting down whenever I try to talk to him about it. I keep hoping it’s just the adjustment period and he’ll find a new routine, but…”

But they both knew his history was discouraging. Though they’d decided long before the kids ever came to live with them that their case files weren’t going to define their expectations, it was impossible not to see the similarities between their own experience and what had come before. 

All three of Alex’s previous foster families had reported problems with managing anger, along with some variety of troubles in school – missing assignments, incomplete tests, refusing to speak in class. Though this year was off to a rough start, they still hoped to finally break the mold. 

“So what do we do moving forward?”

It was hardly the first time they’d posed the question to one another, but brilliant solutions were few and far between. For several seconds, Jaime stared at the wall behind her head, his thoughts indiscernible. “I think we just keep doing what we’ve been doing -- we deescalate when he’s upset and encourage him to talk about what’s bothering him. We have to get through to him eventually.” 

“I just wonder if there’s more going on,” Arden ventured. The half-formed thought had been stewing in her mind for a while. “I think he’s more scared than he is angry.”

“I’ve been getting that sense too. Starting in a new school is tough -- I remember. Maybe I’ll get a chance to talk to him about it soon.”

“It might help,” Arden encouraged. “He might share more if he knew what you’ve been through.”

"I hope so.” His smile returned, clearing the worries from his face. “Anyway, my high was Sophia asking me to help with that question on her homework last night. You were right there, so it’s not like we were alone or anything, but it’s one of the only times she’s initiated conversation with me.”

Arden still remembered the sound of Jaime’s jubilant thoughts as he’d read the problem over Sophia’s shoulder. Even just recalling it to memory sent a fresh wave of shivers over her shoulders. “You’re bonding with our daughter over math homework, Jaime. Who would have thought we’d be saying that a year ago?”

He shook his head with a half smile. “It’s finally starting to feel kind of normal. Not quite there yet, but I feel like we’re really close in a lot of ways.”

“I think so too.”

“And I have to say, I think we’ve been doing a pretty amazing job with them so far.” 

So far. Behind her smile, those two words lingered like a bitter aftertaste. As much as he’d intended them as an encouragement, Arden longed for the day when such compliments no longer came with conditions. 

_____

September, 2027

Arden tossed in a dishwasher tablet, sealed the door, and pressed start. For a moment, she stood in front of the noisy appliance, giving her mind a rest before she could start questioning why the other end of the house was so quiet.

Twenty minutes ago, all three kids had assured her that they were working hard at their studies. For her oldest and youngest, it wasn’t difficult to believe that they were still on task. For Alex, it was a completely different story.

Much as he hated being told what to do, he needed frequent reminders to continue working. The number of times she’d walked in to find him doodling in the margins when he was supposed to be reading was alarming. Thankfully, between the thoughts she overheard and her ability to read his body language, she could typically walk the fine line between motivation and bringing him to the point of anger. 

She’d never seen a child so hostile to any kind of instruction. They were only a month into the school year, but she was already convinced that the child’s teacher must be a literal angel to put up with his stubbornness for so much of the day.

He’s probably drawing again, she determined as her husband’s sure step broke through the after-dinner lull. Coming from the garage, Jaime met her in the hallway, a pair of lightbulbs in his hand.

“Are those for the upstairs bathroom?”

“They are.” He kissed her cheek before poking his head into the empty dining room. “The kids?”

“Alex is in his room. Will’s upstairs with Sophia, working on some vocab. She finished her homework before we ate.”

“Even exponents?”

“She’s got the hang of them now.”

Their daughter’s light tread came tripping down the stairs at that moment, her body a blur as she flew through the hall.

“Looks like she’s keeping both of them on top of their work,” Jaime commented when Sophia disappeared into the boys’ room.

“I should probably check in,” Arden suggested. “Make sure she’s not bossing him around too much.” She caught her husband’s attention once more before he mounted the stairs. “While you’re up there, could you tell Will that I’m ready to work on social studies whenever he is?”

With a nod, he continued his climb. As the sound of his steps faded, her ears detected a far different noise coming from Alex’s room -- a noise that sounded very much like ripping paper. 

That can’t be good.

Picking up speed, she crossed the threshold just a few seconds later. A pile of roughly torn half-sheets from a notebook lay on the floor before her. Examining the scene, Arden was vaguely conscious of Sophia’s feeble attempts to retrieve them, but what stood out to her more than anything was the florid coloring of her son’s face.

“I told you to leave me alone!” he shouted, pushing a stack of school books from his desk to the floor.

Sophia sidestepped in time to avoid the collision, but Arden still winced when they hit the floor. 

“Hey, hey, hey. Let’s take a deep breath and calm things down in here,” she began, determining that it was probably best to insert herself into the confrontation before the things went any further.

“He needs to finish his homework so he can pass and not get held back another grade,” Sophia summarized. “He can’t keep doing this!” 

The hint of piety in her tone grated the entire length of Arden’s spine. Even though she found herself agreeing with her daughter’s assessment, it was all-too evident that the accusation wasn’t going to do Alex any good.

That child was still seated, his heaving chest and white knuckles providing a glimpse of just how much frustration he’d been bottling up. If the objects on the floor were any indication, his anger had started to spill over. 

“You’re not my boss!”

Arden swallowed hard. She knew these moments were important – that she needed to make it clear that she was the parent and that they couldn’t just make rules for themselves. But the emotional tension was almost paralyzing. She could hardly think, much less find a solution to the conflict brewing in front of her. 

Still, she had to do something.

“Okay,” she started, still trying to gauge the situation. “It’s obvious that you’re both upset right now. I think it’s best for us to all take a few minutes to calm down before we try to work through this. Sophia, you can come with me to the living room. Alex, we’ll let you have some space and be back in a little bit to sort things out.”

…to the docks…

Arden raised a quizzical brow at her son’s arbitrary thought, but pressed on. “We’ll come back in a few minutes,” she reiterated, hoping that the reminder would get him help to calm him. 

Passing through the hallway, she checked the lock on the front door. As far as she knew, he had no history of running away, but his thought about the docks had left her unsettled. She wasn’t taking any chances.

_____

Jaime sauntered down to the main level of the house a few minutes later, expired lightbulbs in hand. By the time he located the proper recycling box and returned from the garage, his wife was waiting in the doorway.

In hushed tones, she filled him in on what had passed while he’d been upstairs. Feeling almost guilty for the time he’d spent joking around with Will, he was determined to pick up the slack in handling the aftermath.

“I’ll go and talk to Alex,” he volunteered, rubbing his palm over the line of his jaw. “I’d like to figure things out with him before we bring Sophia back into it.”

“Thanks. Good luck.” 

Making his way to the open bedroom door, he rapped a finger on the wood before pushing it the rest of the way. As the door swung wide, the first thing he noticed was that the room was empty. The second was that the window was wide open.  

"Alex?” His heart sank even before the word had left his mouth. This can’t be happening. 

Both girls came running at his elevated voice, quickly coming to the same conclusion that he had on seeing the scene.

Jaime didn’t waste time searching the room, instinct telling him that the boy had run from the house. All that mattered was finding him as soon as possible.

Arden’s small wave attracted his attention. When he looked to her, she mouthed a single word: docks.

“I’ll help!” Sophia offered, voice cracking under the pressure of tears. “He gets this way when he’s really upset, but I can usually calm him down.”

With a hand to his daughter’s trembling shoulder, Jaime inclined his head to look her in the eyes. The glistening pools flicked up to his for less than a second before falling back to the papers on the floor.

“Sophia, I know where to find him, and I’ll do everything I can to calm him down myself. For now, I think it’s best for you to stay here with Arden and Will,” he proposed, squeezing her shoulder gently.

“Okay,” she relented, though he could tell from her sigh that she was skeptical about his plan.

Can you explain it to her? he asked his wife as he slipped through the door.

At her nod, he started for the lake.

It seemed unlikely that the boy was in any real danger, but that didn’t stop Jaime’s heart from hammering harder with every step he took through the deepening twilight. Threat or no threat, he needed Alex to know that he wasn’t going to face anything alone.

He relaxed his pace on seeing the small figure at the end of the dock, but he was still breathing hard by the time he made it to the boy’s side.

His son was seated at the corner of the deck, eyes shining with a defiance that Jaime had seen more times than he could count. This particular display of anger would have worried him far more if his son wasn’t sitting with his chin tucked into his knees, curled smaller than he’d ever seen him.

Every part of his consciousness was screaming for him to bundle the boy up in his arms, hold him tightly, and promise that he was never going to let him go. Better judgement was all that held him back.  

“Hey,” he started simply, making sure the child was aware of his presence.

Alex ignored him, teeth ground in frustration.

With a deep breath, Jaime lowered himself beside the boy, careful to maintain several inches of distance between them. He looked him over again, catching a glimpse of the sunset on a series of haphazard lines along his forearm. 

Leaning closer, he could see that they were scratches. No blood had been drawn, but there was no mistaking that they’d been made by a set of fingernails.

Instinctively, his eyes jumped to the boy’s hands. Jaime’s stomach churned. No explanation was good, and he knew with absolute certainty that the marks hadn’t been there during dinner. 

He found himself wishing for Arden’s abilities -- for any advantage that could help him in the conversation that lay ahead. 

“Alex, we need to talk, bud,” he started gently, almost relieved that his son still hadn’t worked up the courage to look him in the eyes. Staring out at the water was easier for both of them. 

The boy’s only reply was a noncommittal, “Hmph.”

When Jaime looked at his face again, he couldn’t help noting the deep set of his brow. Arden was right. There was something more to this than just being angry. 

Whatever it was that plagued his son, this was probably the best opportunity he’d get to help sort it out. Adrenaline pumping, he launched in. “Alex, I know that sometimes running away from problems seems like the best way to solve them, but it usually just makes things worse.”

The child’s hands shifted, the fingers of one hand trailing up and down the series of angry red lines on his arm.

Jaime counted through several long breaths, hoping that Alex would take initiative to break the awkward silence. “Could you tell me what upset you tonight? If I have to try to guess, we’re going to be out here a long time.” 

“I hate school.”

“Did something happen today?” he pressed further. They’d known that the transition to a new school would be challenging, but nothing they’d seen in the first three-and-a-half weeks had given any particular cause for alarm.

“It’s just stupid and I hate it.”

Trying another tactic, Jaime delved into his own past. “I hated school too when I first moved in with Paula. I came to live with her toward the end of the school year, so I didn’t know a single person in my class. I spent the whole first month arguing with her every morning before I got on the bus.”

Alex didn’t say anything, though his grip on his knees loosened almost imperceptibly.  

“She always made me go, so one morning, I hid under the bed so she couldn’t find me.”

“Did she?” His voice was soft, but curious.

“She did.” Jaime shifted to straighten his legs, propping both arms behind him. His stomach was almost sick with the desire to keep his son talking. “And you know what she said?”

“Huh?”

“She told me that I was a superhero.”

Confused, Alex lowered his knees and crossed them, head inclining away from the water for the first time since Jaime had arrived. 

From the corner of his eye, He could see that the boy’s eyes were on him. “She told me that feeling upset could be a superpower, but that I wasted all of its potential when I let it control me instead of being the one to take control. Then she drove me to school and told me to try using my frustration to be the best second-grader I could be.”

Jaime monitored his response, catching the sneer that came over Alex’s features. He didn’t need Arden’s powers to know that the boy was unimpressed.

“I know, I know. It was cheesy. I realized that at the time too, but I wanted to prove to her that I was stronger than those angry feelings. In the end, her advice actually helped.”

Alex rolled his eyes, but said nothing.

“Look, I don’t want to make assumptions, but it seems like some of your feelings have been getting control of you too. Can you tell me what’s been happening?”

“I got angry. Couldn’t help it.”

“What couldn’t you help?”

“I don’t know.”

“You mean throwing your books and running away?” He didn’t even want to give voice to his other suspicion. “Hurting yourself?”

“I don’t know. I just couldn’t help it.”

“Can you tell me what upset you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Are you sure? Did something happen at school? Was it something Sophia said?” He asked the questions at measured intervals, allowing the boy ample time to respond. When his answer finally, came, the harsh edge in his voice left no doubt in his mind that the conversation was over. 

“I said I don’t know.”

Drawing a ragged breath through his nose, Jaime stared out across the water. There was only so much he could do. It was eminently clear that his son wasn’t interested in sharing any more with him at this point, and pushing him further wouldn’t end well for either one of them.  

Conscious that the rest of his family had been left in a state of upheaval, Jaime determined that it was in everyone’s best interest for them to return home. The matter hadn’t been resolved, but there was still one final reminder he could offer the boy.

“Alex, I’m not sure how to help you right now, but I want you to know that you’re not going to have to deal with this on your own. We’re going to figure this out together, okay?”

The child gave no verbal response, but he joined Jaime in standing and returning to the house.

_____

Two hours later, Arden opened their bedroom door to find Jaime sitting motionless on the bed. They’d parted ways shortly after saying their goodnights to all three kids in the boys’ room.  

With the teary reunion that had occurred when Jaime returned with their runaway, it was little wonder that Sophia had insisted on sleeping on the floor between her brothers. The three of them shared a bond that was unlike anything Arden had ever known as an only child. For her own selfish reasons, she was grateful for the arrangement. Knowing Sophia would keep an eye on things made it all the more likely that she and Jaime could find some rest during the night. 

“I just got off the phone with the caseworker again.” She joined him at the end of the bed, legs close enough feel his presence even without actually touching. “She said we did everything we could.” The words felt as hollow as the sentiment behind them. 

Jaime’s hand slipped into hers, and she gave the clammy fingers a reassuring squeeze. 

“Anyway, I was hoping we could talk for a minute. I wrote up most of the incident report while I was talking with her, but there’s still time to add more details before I send it until tomorrow. Is there anything I should put in based on what happened at the docks? Did he tell you anything?”

“No, I just made things worse.” 

Unaccustomed to the defeat in her husband’s tone, Arden pulled up a leg to angle toward him. His face was a mask, though his thoughts were easy to read. 

I can’t believe I let this happen. 

“Jaime, this isn’t just you,” she implored, “I’m the one who left him alone in there. It never occurred to me that he would climb through the window.” Her strength waning, she dropped fully to the mattress. 

They’d known that parenting would come with its share of struggles, but she hadn’t anticipated that it would leave them feeling so helpless. She was used to problems that could be solved with the right combination of research and discussion. Their children’s hardships were far too ambiguous for such treatment -- especially when it came to their middle child. 

She’d thought that they could head off all of his anger and frustration – prevent it from factoring into this school year to any large degree. But instead, it seemed that he’d been bottling everything up and making it worse. Whatever it was that had set him off this evening was just the indication of a larger worry bubbling below the surface.

“What did we do wrong?”

Arden regarded him solemnly, forehead leaning against her palm as she propped an elbow on the bed. She allowed his question to soak over her mind, flirting with the temptation to take blame for something that she knew had been beyond their control. “I don’t know what else we could have done, honestly. Short of nailing his window shut, I’m not sure how we could have made things any better.”

Jaime fell to his back, emitting a long sigh before he attempted an answer. “I failed, Arden. I went out there thinking I’d be able to talk him through this and we’d be okay. I always figured that my past would give me an edge in dealing with these kinds of things, but I’m at a loss. I don’t know what else to do for him.”

Arden scooted next to him, her ankle hooking his as she drew close enough for contact. “Maybe there isn’t anything else we can do. Especially if there’s more to this than anger.”

“I know he’s been upset before, but this was a new low. If what the caseworker’s told us is right, he’s never run away or hurt himself like this. Why now?”

Shaking her head, she considered the flurry of thoughts that had been in the boy’s mind after they’d returned inside. “I think resentment and fear have been building for a long time. I don’t know who’s responsible for putting them there, but it breaks my heart.” Her throat clogged as she fought over her next words. “I hate that I’m even having to say this, but I think there’s something else going on too. He’s internalizing everything except his anger, and that really worries me.”

Jaime tensed. “I thought he was just having trouble adjusting. New house, new family, new school – I get how difficult that is. But I never wanted to hurt myself because of it.”

“I know.” She buried her face in the mattress as she gathered her thoughts. When she surfaced, it was with a question. “Do you remember that new mental-health initiative Ellen and I covered a couple of years ago? I remember thinking at the time that rates of childhood depression were way higher than I would have expected. I don’t think it’s totally off base to find a therapist for Alex to talk to. Even if that’s not what it is, he clearly needs someone more qualified to help him work through this.”

The more she thought about it, the more determined she was to pursue that course of action. She began drafting a conversation in her head, already making plans to call a therapist the next morning. It wasn’t until some minutes later that she realized Jaime still hadn’t spoken.

When she turned back to him, his face was furrowed with an agonizing thought.

Why am I not enough?

Arden’s blood ran cold. It had been so long since he’d doubted himself like this that she’d vainly hoped they’d moved beyond it. Her husband’s sensitivity was one of the things she loved about him most, but it had a tendency to make him vulnerable at the worst moments.

“Jaime, whatever’s going on with him has nothing to do with you.”

“But I’m his dad. Fixing things is part of my job.” He rubbed his temple, expression still strained.

Rolling closer to him, she splayed a hand over his chest. The hard muscles eased under her touch. “It’s impossible to fix everything,” she murmured, needing to hear the words every bit as much as he did. “And don’t you dare sell yourself short. As far as I’m concerned, all three of them are the luckiest kids in the world because they get to have you as their dad.” 

“You’d never know it from what happened tonight.” 

She hushed him with a tap of her finger. “Humor me for a second.” When he remained silent, she continued. “What were you doing outside with Will yesterday after they got home from school?”

His face softened, though it wasn’t quite a smile. “Kicking around a soccer ball.”

“Exactly. Babe, you’ve seen me play soccer. I fell over once because I wasn’t coordinated enough to kick with one foot at a time. Do you think Will would have had nearly as much fun if I’d been out there instead?”

“No,” he agreed grudgingly.

“And do you realize that you might be the first man in Sophia’s life that actually deserves to earn her trust? You can’t put a value on how important that is.”

“Then why can’t I get my own son to talk to me?”

Arden stopped short at the pitiful question. “It’s not just you. Sometimes I feel like ninety percent of what I know about that child comes from Sophia. He still isn’t ready to come out of his shell around the two of us, and I guess we’re going to have to be okay with that for now. It’s easier with the other two, sure. We keep seeing progress with them. Sooner or later, we’ll see it with Alex too.”

He turned toward her, capturing her in his embrace. She held fast, sighing with relief at the security in his arms. “I can probably count on one hand the number of times you’ve been the one telling me to be patient.”  

Arden’s laugh came out in hot breaths against his shoulder. “See? That’s just another reason why I need you in my life. Can you imagine all of the trouble I’d get into without you?” For long moments, he held her tight, strength coursing through every inch of skin that touched. “We’re going to make it through this.”

“We’re not quitters,” he added, combing a hand through her hair. 

“Especially not when the prize is worth it in the end. Those kids downstairs are so worth it. Our family is worth it.” 

I love you. 

The corners of her mouth tipped up at his thought. “I love you too, babe. So, so much.” 

Three months into parenting, they felt so far from where they wanted to be. Yet, as they clung to one another that night, both dared to believe that it was still within their reach.

#tw: depression #tw: self-harm #playchoices #playchoices fanfiction #wishful thinking #jaime lewis #jaime x mc

[sourwolfstories]

Hey! Can you rec some sterek university AUs pls? Thanks you!

Oh boy… okay so this is one of my favorite tropes and I have a crap ton of these. I couldn’t fit all of my faves on here (well i could have but it would have taken forever and the list would have been HUGE) but here are several for you to enjoy!! :)

No Homo by orphan_account

Stiles’ sophomore year starts something like this:3 FourLokos+ 1 peer-pressuring cat- 1 best bro to end all best bros= 1 Craigslist ad headline that reads “str8 dude - m4m - strictly platonic”.Derek is the fool who replies.

It Started With A Whisper by allyasavedtheday, warmth

“I’m Stiles, by the way. In case you did, you know, need something, cause Librarian is kind of an old lady term and… yeah. So, Stiles. S-T-I-L-E-S, like that one dude in that band from the UK.”

Or the one where Derek and Stiles are both in college, Stiles is the school’s librarian, and Derek is just trying to study.

The Company I Keep by secondstar

Stiles has a favorite table at the library. Then some asshole comes along and steals it from him.

Maybe by MellytheHun

Tumblr Prompt:

my fave overheard on campus moment of all time was the two guys who sat behind me in pop culture theory

as class was starting one of them was like “so… do you want a blowjob after this” in a rly bored voice, and then the second guy was like [pause][dejected sigh] “yes”

Not Mine to Love by Sabeley

It should have been awkward then, as the haze of lust left them, but Derek really didn’t mind the fact that Stiles was collapsed on his chest, breathing heavily. He didn’t care that he was naked in his roommate’s bed, coming down from the best orgasm he had ever had. He didn’t even care that he had just lost his virginity to someone who wasn’t Jennifer.

“That can’t happen again,” he said simply.

It happened twice more that night and it never really stopped.

The Hunt by HenryMercury

Stiles wakes up with a hangover and the phone number of the most attractive (and the frowniest) guy he’s ever encountered.

…Who also happens to be the front-man for the band Scott’s just joined.

Pushed to the Limit by kittylovessterek (kitty_fic)

Watching Stiles get ready to go out is torture. The universe is obviously testing him. There’s only so much temptation one werewolf can take.

I Keep On Fallin’ by xKookiesandCreamx

Ow fuck!“

Stiles sprung up out of his slumber, dazedly looking around for the cause of his roommate’s pained sounding exclamation.

He got his answer when he flicked his desktop lamp on and looked to see Derek sprawled in a graceless heap on the floor by Stiles’s bed.

~~~

Or a little college au ficlet in which a middle of the night accident actually turns out to be a not so bad thing after all.

Hot Nerd Alert by alisvolatpropiis

Derek can’t believe he’s actually doing this: taking a selfie snap of the guy he’s been crushing on for weeks to prove to Danny that one, yes, he really does exist, and two, he really is that hot and thus he is totally justified in being too scared to make a move.

Or you know, even talk to the guy outside of the class they share.

In his defense, this isn’t just any guy. This THE guy. Hot Nerd. The utterly adorable but still somehow insanely sexy freshman in his twentieth century American Lit class who he’s been lusting over since the first day of the semester. If there were ever a time for him to be that person who tries to be subtle while taking snaps of other people, this is it.

Love Comes in Spurts by talktowater

Stiles has always had sort of a hero worship thing going on with Scott’s step-brother Derek so moving into a house with him freshman year was basically fulfilling a childhood fantasy. Discovering how Derek was putting himself through college, well that was a whole other fantasy that Stiles didn’t even know he had.

Your First by Simone (fvckyourfandoms)

It’s Stiles freshman year of college and he decides to rush a fraternity. He becomes Vice President Derek Hale’s favorite pledge and they end up much closer than expected.

or

A story in which Derek can’t keep his hands off of Stiles’ sweet, irresistible, virgin ass and fails at not feeling him up.

A Comprehensive Study in Getting a Boyfriend via Persuasive Essay-Writing by Luddleston

Stiles is a junior Journalism major who takes Rhetorical Strategies because it covers his English requirement. He’s also trying to be subtle about the way he keeps checking out his professor.

Derek is a grad student teaching his first class ever. He also has the most annoying student on the face of the planet, and is done reading essays about the history of male circumcision.

Flirty e-mails are exchanged, Stiles spends way too much time in Derek’s office, and they fall in love over a mutual hatred for APA formatting.

take two and hit to right by gottalovev

Stiles enjoys ogling the very handsome shortstop of the varsity team while in class. One day, when he cannot have the seat he prefers to watch the baseball diamond, he starts a conversation on his desk (including cartoon characters and eventually sharing secrets).

Unfortunately, Stiles’ first meeting with the hot shortstop - crowd darling Derek Hale - doesn’t go well. When Hale turns out to be Stiles’ desk pen pal, will they be able to move past first impressions?

If You Wanna Be My Roomie (Lover) by xKookiesandCreamx

Realistically, Stiles knew that the local University’s popularity and commonality meant that many members of his graduating high school class would be starting the Fall 2016 semester alongside him, but he never expected his longtime crush to be one of them. Even more so, he never expected said crush to be assigned as his roommate…oh boy.

Just to See You Again by MellytheHun

A sterek college!AU where writing student Stiles specializes in love letters, runs a blog about it and can be commissioned to write love letters on behalf of lovers who are at a loss for words.

He makes some cash, he’s good at what he does (especially when he gets to be a little more explicit in his letters), it pays for his textbooks and that’s all he’s really looking for and life is fine. That is, until someone anonymously commissions him to write a love letter to mathematics student, Derek Hale.

It’s Happening by isthatbloodonhisshirt

Derek stopped listening to him, brain going a mile a minute.

Derek, it’s fucking happening!Derek, please!

He would recognize that fucking voice anywhere.

Two years. Two fucking years had passed, and now this little shit was standing in front of him, speaking his name, and grinning like an idiot.

“It’s you,” Derek said, earning him a confused look from Stiles. “The phone call. Two years ago. It was you.”

Beauty and the Ex by aggybird

Stiles doesn’t want to screw up his chances with Josh, so he does something he may regret: he goes to Derek Hale, Josh’s intimidating ex-boyfriend, for dating advice.

Things don’t go according to plan. But with a little magic (and werewolves) they might go all right.

We’re caught in stone, you know we might not make it by LunaCanisLupus_22

He does this thing then, while Stiles is watching, rolls his left shoulder a little as if he’s adjusting the books in his arms and suddenly Stiles recognises him from the gesture.

“Oh my god,” he cries, dumping his books, bag and coffee into one big mess on the ground and rushing over to them at once.

Or the one where Derek and Stiles are childhood buddies who lost touch and reconnect by chance at college. Only they end up doing a lot more than just reconnecting.

There is a Brotherhood by minusoneday

So far, college has taught Stiles three things:

1) Eight am classes are cruel and unusual and should be avoided at all costs, even if it means having to enroll in something truly hideous instead, like Econ 101.

2) Dorm security is just as tight as Stiles’ orientation leader had promised it would be, and the dude guarding Scott’s dorm in particular does not respond well to bribes.

3) Mrs. McCall clearly had no clue what she was talking about when she’d insisted that Scott and Stiles needed to branch out and room with strangers, so it’s all her fault that Scott ended up with a total dick of a roommate and Stiles got stuck all the way across campus with some guy who has a girlfriend two towns over and is thus never around.

‘Linski’s Late Night Antidote To Lame by WhoNatural

Where Stiles has his own college radio show, and the mysterious, faceless Derek is his number one fan.

Also there’s this really hot guy he keeps meeting in the library who totally hates his guts.

Inside This Place Is Warm by wolfcloaks

Coming down; One love, two mouths

Stiles Stilinski:

-Senior at Berkley-Double majoring in Human Biology and Biomedical Engineering-Student Librarian-Closet Artist-Basket case extrodanaire-Hopelessly crushing on Derek Hale (read as: pining)

Derek Hale:

-Grad Student at Berkley-Philosophy Major-Dog enthusiast-Does not cry during The Notebook, fuck you,Laura-Is definitely not pining over the librarian with the cute moles-Would very much like to tell the librarian’s curly haired boyfriend to fuck off

Or

Where Derek and Stiles are complete dweebs in love and jump to horribly inaccurate conclusions

Or

When your meet-cute turns into a bit of an (light) angst fest but it’s all ok in the end

———————

If you want to find more college/university goodness you can check out my tag for it here

#answered #anonymous #sterek #sterek fic rec #sterek fanfic #sterek fanfiction #college university au

[miraculousmumma]

Having the Edge - Chapter Two

Characters:  Adrien Agreste/Chat Noir, Marinette Dupain-Cheng/Ladybug, Luka Couffaine, Alya Césaire, Nino Lahiffe, Sabine Cheng

Pairings: Adrien/Marinette

Warnings: None, really.  maybe swearing. I can’t remember!

Word Count: I’m still editing, but about 8,400!

Summary:  Jealous of the attention Luka is lavishing on Marinette, Adrien decides it’s time to change his image…

Masterlist

Adrien knew he had turned heads with his new look as he walked into school on Monday morning.  He thought he’d done a fairly good job, even if it had meant sneaking out for school before Nathalie came to tell him his ride was ready.  He sent her a text saying he had left early to utilise the school library and no one at home had any idea anything was out of the ordinary.  Enough conversations had stopped and enough heads turned that he knew his efforts had been enough, and he stopped by the boys' bathrooms to check his look one more time before going to class.  His nails were coated in black polish, which had taken him several tries to get right without smudging or leaving too much residue around his fingers.  The rings he wore, two thick black bands, one on his thumb, the other on his ring finger on the opposite hand to his miraculous, still felt weird and new, but the strangest was the fake piercing he had on his lip.  He kept touching it with his tongue, half afraid it might fall out, half afraid he might swallow it, but of all the places he had tried it; his eyebrow, nose, septum, the lip looked the most effective.  He also had large black discs stuck on each ear, more fake piercings that the assistant in the store had assured him were their most popular seller.  Then there was the guyliner.  He was no stranger to makeup, he was even proficient at applying it, and the fine dark lines on his upper and lower lids really did make his green eyes pop.  For his hair, he had opted for something that was easily removed.  The clip-in green extension tucked away into his fringe, which he had swept down over one eye, leaving the rest stylishly messy.  Every now and then he caught a glimpse of the green streak and it fascinated him that it was actually in his hair.  He just hoped Marinette was as enamoured with it as he was.  Around his neck, he wore a black leather necklace with a single silver bead, his right wrist bearing a simple braided black leather bracelet.

As for his outfit, he was pretty sure his father would be various shades of pissed if he saw him in it.  There wasn’t a designer label in sight.  His shoes were black pumps that had seen better days but were more comfortable than anything else he had ever worn, the laces tatty and looking like they could break in some places at a moments notice.  His tight jeans were torn, not through design but wear.  They were so well used that the black in places was closer to grey, the tears and rips hanging ragged with frays and showing more skin than he had in anything other than shorts.  To finish his outfit he wore an old, long sleeved, black Jagged Stone tour t-shirt and sleeveless grey hooded cardigan.  As far as he was concerned he looked the part.  Now he just had to use it to win Marinette over.  If this was what she wanted, this was what she’d get.

Marinette was uncharacteristically early for class, especially for a Monday, much to Alya’s surprise when she arrived to find her already at her desk and unpacking her tablet ready for class.

‘Let me guess, the smoke alarm went off at the patisserie and you were woken up?’  Alya grinned as she slid into her seat.

‘No.’  Marinette gave her an amused smile.  ‘I got hit by inspiration early and had to get some ideas out of my head before school.’

‘Oh, show!’  Alya made the grabby hands motion for Marinette to hand her her sketchbook.

‘I don’t know.’  Marinette said hesitantly.  ‘They’re a different style for me, I’m still not sure…hey!’

‘Too late!’  Alya snatched it from her hands and flipped it open to the pages that her pencil was sandwiched between.  ‘Oh, these are cute.’  Alya said exaggeratedly.  ‘I wonder where you might have come up with this idea?’

‘Yeah, okay.’  Marinette shuffled closer with a disgruntled look on her face.  ‘I might have been inspired by Saturday night.’

‘You should definitely make this.  Luka would love you in it.’  She pointed to the design on the page and Marinette blushed.

‘Al, there’s nothing going on between me and Luka!  We’re just friends!’  She hissed, hoping no-one overheard.

‘Yeah, you looked pretty friendly Saturday night.  And I don’t suppose he walked you home either?’

‘No…that part’s true.’  Marinette muttered.

‘He’s totally into you!  And if these designs are anything to go by you’re into him too.’  Alya wrapped her arm around her.  ‘There’s nothing wrong with that.  You know, you can like more than one guy at once, and if Adrien is interested at all then maybe Saturday night gave him a nudge.’

Marinette made a dismissive noise.  ‘Pfft.  I’m pretty sure I am firmly in Adrien’s friendzone, and that’s okay, I like being his friend, but it was nice to have a guy show interest in me, and Luka is…’  She sighed.  ‘Luka flirts with me, and he doesn’t make fun of my stuttering and stammering, and he encourages me, but…he’s not Adrien.’

‘Okay, girl, cut to the chase, did Luka say anything that might make you think he’s going to ask you out?’

‘Erm, I don’t know.  He said he’d see me sooner than I think.’

‘So, maybe.  But it hasn’t happened yet, so in the meantime you still hold out hope for Adrien.  I think you might be about to see a whole new side of him.’

‘You think so?’  Marinette asked hopefully.

‘I’m pretty sure, yeah.  Just give him a chance.  He’ll walk through that door and…’

‘What the hell?’  Marinette whispered.

‘Let me finish…’

‘No,’ Marinette took hold of her chin and turned her face, ‘what.  The.  Hell?’

Alya eyes went wide as Adrien walked in looking as un-Adrien-like as they had ever seen him.  As he walked he pulled off a pair of dark sunglasses and tucked them in his pocket, raising his head in a quick upwards nod at the girls.  ‘Hey.’

Alya and Marinette looked at one another in complete shock as he sat down in his seat.

‘Ask him!’  Marinette whispered as she nudged her best friend.

‘You ask him!’

‘I can’t ask him!’

‘Fine!’  Alya stood in her seat with Marinette still squished up against her side, bent over and tapped Adrien on the shoulder.

‘’S’up?’  He asked, his arm straight out along the back of his chair.

‘Are you, uh, are you feeling okay?’

‘Of course.  Why?’

‘Oh, no reason at all.’  She said exaggeratedly.

Adrien shrugged then turned to Marinette, his lips twitching but not quite making a smile.  ‘How you doing, Mari?’

‘Fine!’  She squeaked, her eyes wider still as she took in the fact he was wearing not only eyeliner but a lip ring, earrings, and had a green streak in his hair.

‘You look fine.’  He winked before turning back to the front, Alya’s head shooting around to see Marinette’s cheeks turning pinker, her mouth open and eyes wide.

‘What the hell just happened?’  Alya muttered.

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfic #miraculous fan fic #adrienette #mlb #mlb fanfiction #mlb fan fiction #miraculous mumma #having the edge

[wildcrisis]

Dadzawa and Shinson ficlet: In Your Image

So, I decided to write some Dadzawa and Shinson blurbs on tumblr that won’t be able to make it into Flourish (simply because I have way too many ideas and want/need the fic to flow well). I’ll post a few of those ideas that don’t make it into the fic here as little ficlets. 

EDIT: SO MUCH FOR FICLET, THIS THING TURNED OUT HUGE, SORRY.

Summary: Celebrating Hero Day in 1st grade, Hitoshi wants to go to school dressed up as his favorite hero: Eraserhead. Aizawa, obviously very touched that his son looks up to him so much, can’t help but worry that Hitoshi will be picked on -- seeing as how he’s a relatively unknown, underground hero that avoids the media at all costs. 

However, he simply can’t resist those pleading eyes that melt his heart.

(Under the cut, so I don’t clog anyone’s dash!)

When Aizawa arrived at the school, he released the sigh he didn’t even release he was holding in. 

Hitoshi was quick to break away from the crowd of children and teachers, running as fast as his little feet would allow, practically throwing himself at his father. Shouta nearly found himself knocked off balance as Hitoshi tackled his abdomen in a tight hug, a large, happy grin on his face. 

Amused, Aizawa quickly returned the hug, but peeled his son off of himself. It was always a coin flip, whether Hitoshi would be running to him happily, or upset. Whether he’d had a good, fun day learning in class and making friends, or had gotten picked on for his quirk, or hair or shoes or -- well, anything, really. Young children were merciless. However, today was clearly a good day, and Shouta was ready to hear all about it. 

“Tell me about your day, Hitoshi.”

As Aizawa led his son to the train station, Hitoshi was quick to begin babbling about his day. They were learning so much these days, that even Shouta found it difficult to keep up with. How Hitoshi was beginning to learn how to write, how to read complicated sentences far beyond the one’s he’d learned at home, how to add and subtract -- it was mind boggling to believe that all children learned so much, all at once. And to Hitoshi, it seemed like nothing at all -- effortless. His teacher was always happy to report on his impressive progress. 

But, as they took their seats for the quick train ride home, Aizawa could tell that there was something his son wasn’t saying. Hitoshi was quietly excited, still buzzing with pure energy, a big, happy smile on his face and pure, innocent hope in his eyes. 

“Is there something else, kiddo?”

Shinsou eagerly nodded, clearly ready to spill the beans. 

“Tomorrow is Hero Day, and Mrs. Hana said that we can dress up as a hero for class!”

Shouta smiled patiently (why was it that teachers always decided these things last minute? or was it just that kids never told their parents until the last second?), ruffling his son’s wild, purple locks, “Oh? And who do you want to dress up as?”

“You! You’re my favorite hero, dad.”

The conversation was vague enough that Aizawa didn’t worry much about being overheard. However, he waited until they were off the train to continue the conversation, holding his son’s hand as they made their way back home. 

“Are you sure, Hitoshi? Remember, I’m an underground hero. That means that no one really knows who Eraserhead is.” 

Hitoshi shook his head, undeterred, gripping his father’s hand as tightly as he could, “I’m sure! I don’t care if no one knows who I am. I want to be my favorite.” 

Shinsou’s conviction was not one to be tested. After all, this was a child that went back to the same school, day by day, even when he was picked on. He chose to keep going back, to try and make other children see him differently. Aizawa had offered to let him transfer classes again, but Hitoshi had refused. He was stubborn, dead-set on getting people to see him for who he really was. 

Wonder where he got that stubbornness from.

Internally, Aizawa struggled with the situation before him. On one hand, he could let Shinsou do as he pleased, dress up as the relatively-unknown Eraserhead, and potentially be picked on the next day at school, where his peers would definitely be dressed as well known pro heroes. On the other hand, he could encourage his son to choose one of his favorite pro heroes he saw on the news every night. Eraserhead wasn’t the only hero in Hitoshi’s eyes, but he was, obviously, the favorite. 

Being a parent was full of difficult decisions. It always seemed like no option was the best one -- one was simply slightly better than the other.

Though, as Hitoshi chatted on about how to make his hair stand up and if they could make parts for the costume, Shouta  quickly came to the conclusion that there would be no point in fighting it. His son was dead set on this plan. He’d probably been thinking about it all day long.

Well, if tomorrow turned out sour for Hitoshi, they’d take care of it. Together. 

“Alright, alright, slow down,” Aizawa attempted to stem the flow of rambling words falling out of his son’s mouth at an alarming rate -- he’d lost track of their one-sided conversation, “I think we’d better stop at Uncle Mic’s place first. Something tells me he’ll be able to help us out.” 

Yamada was, of course, ecstatic to have his friend and favorite nephew drop by. Once Aizawa explained what they were there for, Hizashi quickly threw himself to work. 

“Right, I’ve got everything we’ll need!” Hizashi nearly screeched, clearly excited to dress Hitoshi up as his favorite hero, “Well, as far as your hair and goggles go! Your dad will have to help us with the rest, little listener.” 

Shinsou’s face lit up at the thought, nearly bouncing off the wall with his unsurpassed energy, “Really!? Thanks Beebee!” 

Aizawa chuckled, clearly amused that Hitoshi had never dropped his odd nickname for Yamada in all his years of learning how to talk. Hizashi, equally, didn’t seem bothered at all, laughing and pulling his young nephew into a tight hug before setting the excited, squirming child back down. 

The trio made their way back to the Aizawa household, where the two adults began to conspire how to make this outfit a reality. Hitoshi, meanwhile, was playing hero on his own, pretending to rescue kitties from a dangerously high tree they’d climbed into. 

“Well, I’ve got the gel for his hair,” Hizashi commented as he pulled out the supplies he was able to gather at his own home, “And remember those stunner shades we were giving out at the station? I kept a pair of yellow ones. I was gonna switch your goggles out with them for fun, but I guess this is a good use for them too.” 

Shouta picked up the pair of cheap, yellow shades, putting them on non-ironically, “They’ll be too big for him. We’ll have to address that, somehow.” 

“We could use some rubber bands, or string!”

“Right. He’s got enough black clothes to make the outfit work,” Shouta mused, taking a mental catalog of Hitoshi’s closet -- he doesn’t claim full responsibility for his son’s enormous amount of black clothing, “I’ve got an old scarf he can use. we just need to make him a belt..”.

To keep Hitoshi sated as they found the rest of the parts for his outfit, Aizawa and Yamada went ahead and fixed up the glasses to give to the rambunctious child. Shinsou was, clearly, beside himself with joy. He quickly put them on, having to constantly adjust them because of their size, and went back to playing hero for the kitties who constantly found themselves in trouble. 

It took a couple of hours, and a break for dinner, but the two adults managed to construct an outfit for Hitoshi to show off at school the next day.

“Alright Hitoshi,” Aizawa calmly called out to his son, urging him to the bathroom so they didn’t make a complete mess with the hair gel, “Let’s put the whole thing together.” 

Shinsou practically shredded his boring, regular clothes for the chance to dress like his favorite hero. Shouta smiled, amused and touched as Hitoshi became even more excited with each piece of the costume that adorned him. A fully black outfit, black shoes, a carefully wrapped scarf, a meticulously crafted utility belt, and the already fixed stunner shades to top it off. Yamada took the hair gel and quickly, expertly used it to make Shinsou’s hair stand completely on end. 

Hitoshi stared in the mirror after all was said and done, completely transfixed by his appearance. His little fingers touched his reflection, briefly, before he turned to his father with a large, toothy smile. 

“I look just like you! Thanks Dad, thanks Beebee!!” 

Hizashi laughed, nudging Hitoshi towards his father, “You’re welcome! Though, to look just like your dad you’ll have to frown more. Now c’mon, it’s picture time!” 

Aizawa, always good-naturedly annoyed by the impromptu picture sessions, picked up his son and put on his typical, I never agreed to this, scowl. Looking to mimic is idol, Hitoshi tried his best to put on the same face -- breaking character more than a few times to giggle and squirm happily. Yamada gleefully snapped a few photos, destined to end up in Aizawa’s treasured photo album, before they let Hitoshi loose to play hero once more -- as a real, bonafide hero. 

“Hitoshi, you’ve got half an hour to play, then it’s bed time,” Aizawa called into the living area, rubbing a reddened eye before cutting off his son’s protests, “No but’s! Even Eraserhead has to sleep sometime.” 

Strict parenting aside, Aizawa took time to relish the moment. Watching his son, decked out head to toe in his image, playing hero. It was Hitoshi’s dream to become a hero, just like his father. And watching him live in that excitement, in that dream, it just --

These were the moments Aizawa Shouta lived for. 

Yamada stayed the night to help re-decorate Hitoshi in the morning. As Aizawa dropped his son off at school that day, Shinsou all put sprinted past the other children, also decked out in creative hero gear, to run inside and show off who and what he was, taking only a moment to turn and wave to his father before disappearing through the doors. 

Aizawa smiled, watching the scene for a moment before turning to walk away, headed towards his own day of teaching would-be heroes.

Never able to shake the thought of Hitoshi dressed as Eraserhead from his mind. 

#aizawa shouta #shinsou hitoshi #flourish fic #au #dadzawa and shinson #yamada hizashi #here have some CUTE #wilds fics

[mahousenshi-skeletor]

 looking back middle school was so weird and funny? and all my problems were caused by my own emo-ness then later scene-ness mixed with being a big weeb and douche bag at the time plus 2008 was peak cringe culture here’s some examples: 

-there was an anime club but the club was completed decorated in pictures of Jacob Black, including a life sized cardboard cutout 

-we had a cosplay track meet and it was a mess

-one kid showed up as Sasuke Uchiha and then realized nobody even noticed he was in costume this lead to him dressing up as Sasuke everyday for the next 3 years

-we had to make an ad on the school announcements for the cosplay race but we were told our ad was and I quote “too bloody”

-we got banned from the school library not once not twice but trice. once for playing football  the second time because we checked out all the vampire and pirate books and didn’t return them then the third time because we all decided to check out the school computers and friend decided to print out porn and not pay the printing fee.

-there was these like kool aid like pouch drinks but they looked like blood pouches they tasted like iron vitamins

- on the first day of school and I told my friend about this anime and some boy overheard and asked me “would you date mushrambo” (the name of a character in the show) and eventually that turned into a school joke but his name went from mushrambo to mushration to mushrat

-there was a school rule that different grade students couldn’t eat with each other but somehow nobody noticed the 19 year old who always hung out with us at lunch

-we went to the mall SPECIFICALLY TO BUY “EMO CLOTHES”

- one kid ALWAYS wore a MCR jacket over a strait jacket he claimed he stole from a hospital

-silly bands 

-actually one girl, no two girls stopped being my friends because I hung out with the MCR kid and they all thought we were dating or something and the girls were really jealous because he was the scene dream

- literally every latina on campus was in love with Zero from Vampire Knight and so every conversation in spanish contained him somehow

-one girl was at an appropriate age to find phineas from Phineas and Ferb “sexy” and then decided she was ready for motherhood (I think she named her baby “luna” after the cat from sailor moon)

-one girl stopped being my friend because I didn’t add her on facebook

-i didn’t have a facebook yet

-I hung out with a group of girls we referred to as “the white devils” and they stopped being my friend because I didn’t go to the lady gaga concert with them

-there was a boy who was like 8 or 9 but he was going to 7th grade so we threw him a birthday party everyday in hopes of making him age faster

-one of these parties themes was “gregor mendel” the food was peas

-slap bracelets, and the cool kids bought metal ones and those cut your arms

-one girl wrote a “yaoi high school goth AU” of Spongebob for class and presented it

-apparently Sasuke kid’s parents were both ultra rich doctors or something

-these two girls parents married each other and when everyone found out they started getting referred to as “drake and josh” and I’m sure they were totally not sick of it

-my friend was going to move to mexico so he wanted to “do as many Japanese things as possible” 

-before every hang out this friend sent us videos on “how to properly eat ramen” and “how to drink sake” (we were 11) and he actually legitimately tried to follow these instructions

-speaking of stuck up girls one girl’s dad was an app designer and because Iphones only came out that year everyone was shook

-one girls dad was a drummer in band and she thought she was the shit

-we saw dirty dancing for class, twice.

-people didn’t buy music? Idk, whenever a kid wanted to play a song they just played the sample from the verizon store or whatever

-the kid who “properly ate ramen” lost all his teeth because some kid hit him with a mallet used on gongs

-one girl claimed she could pull anything from her jacket and then proceeded to prove it. 

-everyone who read manga during class would try to read porn as well, the teachers would sometimes catch them then show the whole class.

-some kids had yaoi poker cards, once a girl I knew pulled them out during a fire drill and her crush decided to play poker with us, he never spoke to us again. 

-actually her crush was the guy with the mallet

-we all wanted to be “mangakas” and write manga

-we all started smackjeeves with self inserts so many self inserts. I actually had 2 comics. 

-i remember one kid was really good at drawing bears and he basically used his drawings as currency 

-your family all shared a computer that was kept in the computer room and everyone would claim it was there turn conveniently whenever somebody else was using it and because we were emo weeaboos we all had to write our edgy over the top sexual Avatar the Last Airbender/the Wacky Adventures of Ronald Mcdonald crossover fanfictions in front of our families or on occasion while collabing with a friend in front of their families.

-if you said the word “table” everyone would pretend to vomit

-we were OBSESSED with Cotton Eye Joe, out of all songs, and would instinctually line dance to it. remember we were emo.

- we did an exercise in class and i don’t remember what it was but somebody was somehow crowned “emperor” so we actually called him that for the rest of middle school

-there was this school wide thing called “slap ass friday” and you would slap everyone’s ass on friday while trying to protect your own and I’m 100% sure that was sexual harassment but we didn’t know that at the time. When the teachers realized what was going on and told us to stop the student body thought that they were telling us to not to swear so all we did was change it from “slap ass friday” to “slap butt friday” and when they told everyone again the name was changed to “smack butt friday” and eventually it fell out of style

-if somebody was your friend you called them your “homie g” 

-google gave us presents during christmas because well, they basically were buying out the town at the time

-once somebody sent a nude of himself in a yugioh cosplay and he accidentally sent to all his contact and his mom made him go to church everyday until he was like 19

-crossover AMV omg.

-I think that’s when Fergie’s solo career started (i was the only scene kid into fergie music but whatever)

-also I think there was a housing crisis.

-the memes then were good.

-we all got into naruto specifically to make fun of a kid who liked naruto but then all ended up liking naruto more than him and actually befriending him (i actually ended up dating him and stealing $2000 of yugioh cards from him)

-somebody threatened to kill me in youtube comments and then gave me their real address, we became pen pals because apparently we were both blocked from the same deviantart group.

-one kid picked up the habit of biting people’s arms when he said hello to them.

- there was a teacher who kicked me out of class because I was supposedly according to her “a communist” 

-that teacher had a rivalry with the anime club teacher because she was team Edward.

that’s all I can remember and the most anybody will ever hear about my childhood and also I think some of this might be from high school or elementary school but I got bad memory.

#long post #personal

[criticsofcolour]

Brainchild Festival 2019 @BrainchildFest [Nkechinyere Nwobani-Akanwo @NNwobani]

Brainchild Festival – it’s a vibe?

Brainchild 2019; 8 years after the idea was conceived and 6 festivals later in a field in East Sussex 3000 people formed an intimate community united in just having a really good time.

I’d not been before but I’d seen the line-up every year, heard of other people’s good time there, and been tempted. This year I made it, with the insight from one friend mentioning it was the highlight of their year, and another saying it was basically South East London—my long-loved born and bred home turf—in a field. Bar set!

It’s a vibe is all I kept hearing; on the coach, in the queue as groups of friends recognised other friends, while scouting out the perfect pitching spot, while eavesdropping on stewards’ conversations. Those words, a truly ambiguous phrase and redundant without context, were flung left right and centre repeatedly. Like when someone says ‘you know what I mean’ after every half-baked sentence giving no space to agree or question what they mean. You know what I mean? What is this vibe that it is? How can everyone be on and recognise the vibe? Where can I find the vibe, or does the vibe find you? I wanted in.

A few hours and several circuits of the site later, and having taken in the numerous delicious sounding offerings of the food stalls, I plotted when I’d try what (priorities). I’d become familiar with the different venues and appreciated the artistic offerings in the instillations on the landscape, some to be viewed, some interacted with, some thought over. I began to recognise people: their voices, styles and mannerisms, like that community/village feel estate agents are always trying to describe and developers are always trying to forcibly create. I’d clocked characters, those archetypes you find in ever situation and heard enough people refer to Nunhead, Camberwell, New Cross Gate and Herne Hill as Peckham (it’s the place to be from now) to know this was the ‘up and coming area’ ‘redevelopment scheme’ South East London in a field.

As the first day came to a close with the deep rhythms of percussion playing with syncopated brass, and solo flourishes from the masterful musicians of Maisha that undeniably ooze a vibe. I got lost in the rhythm and heart, the soul of it all, that was laid bare on the stage. The energy was undeniable. It didn’t matter who you were, where you were, who was there, it was that middle bit of a Venn diagram that all these various types of people occupied and found pleasure in. As I made my way to bed—old lady lightweight—to the sounds of Touching Bass’ eclectic set, each sound accompanying the movements of the revellers as though they were in deep rooted cahoots, I thought, it’s not bad, this, I could do more of this.

I approached Saturday with more gusto, up at 10am for the very gentle yoga, which had a stellar turn out considering how late the partying went. Consequently, the coffee queue was an hour long and an Instagram overheard page’s paradise. People freely exchange tales of how gross it is trying to having sex with a random in a tent. Throwing up in a peg bag (turned out to me mine) through to the woes of having a well-paid office job which you might pack in to be a barista. The hardship of having to go away on a lush sounding holiday with your family, and clusters of conversations speaking of and for the working classes, people of colour and LGBT+ community—with none of them present. These are the people I’d eyeball h a r d at home and then keep it stepping to find my peace but there was no respite here.

I wandered from talk to workshop, all of them filled with passion and knowledge, a refreshing combination. I listened to captivating tones and heartfelt lyrics, energy raising sets all giving me food for thought at every turn, and here there was space to mull and chew over the thoughts without having to get something done, be somewhere, talk to someone, be someone. I can see the attraction for people choosing this space to be a holistic time out.

I’d earmarked Dylema collective having no prior idea what I was in for…

And then. I found the vibe. No, not just the vibe. My vibe.

That Saturday night I found my vibe.

From the band’s first bar, it was different. It felt tailored, like they were here to perform for us, giving over the gift of their songs. Hand-crafted for our pleasure. Side-stepping any blasphemy, it was akin to that feeling people speak of when church is on point. All the sermons hit home and passages reveal answers to your queries and the hymns raise you up. All before Dylema named and carved space for the black girls, with rhythmic chants of ‘What If A Black Girl Could’. A moment being seen and lauded with no expectations or entry requirements, the purest of offerings.

It’s not collective. It’s not about everyone being in it together, feeling the same thing. It’s personal, it’s a first person feeling, indescribable, hence why it so vague, why it’s just referred to as ‘a vibe’. A phrase that truly means something unique to the author of the words. And that’s what this place is. Brainchild is a Vibe because at some point, for many several points during the weekend, you find your vibe. It charges you up and tops up your tolerance and reinvigorates your soul. No longer would the conversations by the [insert P.C phrase for gentrifiers] weigh heavy, or the couple audibly digging for treasure down each other’s throat grate on me, or the pseudo intellectuals playing buzz-word bingo incite near violence. I had power now. I was unbothered.

That air moved with me even as the festival began to wind down on Sunday. The palpable reality of real life crept in as conceptual conversations about capitalism turned to thoughts of ones practical contribution to the system, all underscored by soulful jazz, hypnotic drum and bass and heart thumping hits. I found small pockets of enjoyment in spoken word, book readings and theatre.

And a cheeky mid-week top up shop vibe, in the form of Brainchild Poetry Showcase’s Bridget Minamore and Vanessa Kissule’s performances. Poems of love and octopus’, a deep clean breath void of politics, gender and oppression. All important and worthy of taking up physical and mental space, but the breath I needed all the same. Just listening, face value, and laughing.

The party waged on till near 6am; like punters saying farewell to their local pub that they’d take for granted was always going to be there (even if they all abandoned it for the wine bar). I found delight in making these observations and comparisons, and looked forward to wielding my new-found energy in my real-life endeavours.

People come back year after year after year, to slip back in with their alternate community among the parched grass, in the protection of the woodlands or beneath canopies of canvas. Without losing their mind, friends or tent, they find their guaranteed vibe.

#Brainchild Festival

[kpophostage]

Pull Me Closer

Hey guys! I spent all day writing this because I couldn’t get it out of my head. I hope you enjoy it.

Namjoon x Reader Soulmate AU

(There is character death, it’s minor though)

You stared down at the red string twisting up your pinky finger with disdained as the lecture droned on in the background. You always hated this string. Why should a simple string have so much power over our lives? Why were we destined to fall in love with whoever was tied at the other end? In your opinion, it was extremely unfair.

“Has anyone ever cut their string?”

You glanced up from your string and looked at the fellow classmate who asked the question. You scoffed at the question. Cut the string? You had tried nearly a million times to cut your string. There is no way that someone else was able to succeed.

You tried to cut the string with scissors from your mother’s sewing set. She walked in on you snipping at the air around your finger and knew exactly what you were attempting to do. A gasp escaped her lips as she smacked the scissors out of your hands. “What are you doing?”

“Cutting the string,” you grumbled.

“How are you supposed to find your soulmate if you cut your string?” She questioned. Her eyebrows are arched. Her hands are placed on her hips as she stared at you with narrow eyes. “Don’t be stupid.”

However, if she could see what your string looked like, she would probably want to cut it off as well.

“Only once in all of human history,” your professor answered. Your head snapped as you looked over at your professor. She was an older lady with gray hair and glasses that wore long skirts and sandals. She stood at the front of class with the text book in her hands. “It’s more of a myth than actual history. A couple broke the string somehow. Scholars argue over how they managed to do so. Some say they burned it. Other say that that they cut their fingers off. But the myth says goes that the female was betrothed to a Prince - a man that wasn’t her soulmate. She agreed because at that point she was older and hadn’t met her soulmate yet. However, a few years after the marriage, a rich merchant comes into town and it’s her soulmate. And if you have met your soulmate already, you know that the bond is very strong. They can’t keep away from each other and have an affair. The Prince finds out about the affair about two years later. At first he wanted to execute his wife’s soulmate. The wife convinces him not to. Instead, he banishes the merchant from his kingdom.” The professor paused her story and took a deep breath. “If you guys ever had to take a trip away from your soulmate, you’ll know the feeling of despair that the couple must have been going through. It’s a feeling of emptiness and nothingness. You just don’t feel complete.” Her voice got softer as she explained this part. “So to put an end to their misery, they decided to break the string. Their theory was that if they break the string, they break the bond.”

“Did it work?” Another student asked. “Did they really break the bond?”

“They died soon after breaking the string. No one really knows if it worked. The myth says that when they broke the string, they angered the Gods. So the Gods punished them-”

“Punished them?” A student gasped. “That seems unfair. They were only trying to survive their situation. Maybe the Gods should have made it easier for them.”

“They defied what the Gods have chosen. Yeah, maybe the Gods could have made it easier but maybe the wife should have left her husband for her soulmate,” the professor argued. “Anyways, the Gods destined them to be born on separate continents so that they could never meet.”

“That’s supposed to stop them from meeting?” Someone asked.

“In the time period that this happened, yes. People still traveled on boats and it was usually only merchants and pirates- and soldiers during wartime. This wasn’t in our time when we could just take a plane anywhere.”

“You said that some scholars believed that the burned the string?” The question was out of your mouth before you even realized it. You chastised yourself for speaking out.

The professor gazed over at you. “There is a lot of debate. But yes, one theory is that they burned the string.”

Your friends always described how their string is pulled taut. They described how they could feel a pull and a tug on the string every now and then. They always got so excited. It meant that their soulmate was near.

Looking at your string now as you sat at your dining table, your string wasn’t pulled and stretched tightly. In fact, it never has been. Your string was loose. It pooled around your feet. You would find yourself tangled in it. It looped and had knots. It just doesn’t look like how anyone else describes theirs to look like. It doesn’t look like how the textbooks describes it.

You sighed as you grabbed a candle. You lit it. You stared down at the red string before hesitantly lifting it up. You held it over the flame and just watched. For a moment, it looked like the flame engulfed it but when you pulled your finger away, the string was still in perfection condition.

You let out a defeated groan as you hand falls onto the table with a thud. Life is so unfair.

“Does your string still look different?” You stood in line with your best friend, Cailey, as a local coffee shop. “You still don’t believe in soulmates?”

You rolled your eyes and huffed. “Soul mates are so overrated,” you answered as you moved forward in the line. “Why should a string dictate who we fall in love with? We should be able to chose who we love.”

Cailey chuckled and patted your back. “Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll find your soulmate one day and he’ll change your whole opinion on it.” She smiled hopefully at you. “Besides, the string doesn’t decide who you’ll fall in love with. There are platonic soulmates too, you know. It’s just easier to fall in love with your soulmate because they are supposed to compatible with you.”

You sighed before turning your attention back towards the front of the line. There was still about four people in front of you. You still didn’t like the idea of a string choosing who fits with you. What made this red string so special?

You were walking to class the first time you ever felt it.

You didn’t realize it at first. Your attention was on getting to class that slight tugging feeling went unnoticed. You weaved your way through the crowds. When you had stepped around a particular group of girls, you overheard a bit of their conversation.

“Are you going to the BTS concert tonight?” the shortest one with curly hair had asked excitedly. You glanced over at her as you walked by. She was bouncing on her feet with a huge smile on her feet. “I still can’t believe I got tickets.”

“Of course. I’m going to see Rap Monster!” Someone had answered her. Your mind had barely processed her words because you felt the biggest tug on your hand. It caused you stumbled back and fall onto your butt. The girls all turned to help you up.

“Oh my gosh are you okay?” the shortest one asked you.

“Yeah,” you answered. You looked around you, trying to see if you could spot who had pulled you back. “Did you see who pulled me?” You asked.

“No one pulled you,” the girls answered.

“It must be your string!” one of the girls gasped excitedly. “You’re soulmate must be nearby!” The rest of the girl squealed in excitement.

You opened your mouth to protest. You were ready to explain how their assumption was wrong. But your gaze fell onto your finger. Your eyes widened and jaw dropped.

This was the first time you had ever seen the string pulled taut. It was the first time that the red string wasn’t pooled around your feet. It was the first time it was tangled around you. It was the first time you had ever seen it stretched.

“What?” you gasped quietly.

“Can you still feel the tugging?” the shortest one asked. “If you can, he might be close enough to find him.”

You shook your head. Your mind was too amaze to answer.

“What’s a BTS?” Cailey friend stopped walking to look at a poster hung up in the window at a market. You stopped walking as well.

“I think it’s a band or something. These girls were talking about a concert earlier today when-” You words are stopped as your eyes fall onto the poster.

“They’re kind of hot, huh?” She giggled.

It’s the second time in your whole life that you felt a tug on you string as you stared up at the man with dimples who stood in the middle of the poster. There were others on the poster but your eyes were glued to him.

“Does he look familiar to you?” You asked Cailey as you point to him.

“Nope. I have never seen him before.” She answered. She raised an eyebrow as she looked over at your face. “Why?”

“I…” There was a feeling of nostalgia and longing as you stared at him. For some reason, you just wanted to reach out to him. You could feel tears building up in your eyes. You quickly blinked them away and teared your attention away from the poster. “He just seemed familiar,” you explained with an airy chuckle. “I probably saw his picture online or something. He must be famous to have a concert, huh?”

“Yeah. That’s probably it,” she quickly agreed. “Let’s get some snacks,” she grabbed your hand and pulled you inside of the market.

You woke up the next day and immediately looked at your string. You sighed in disappointment as the string is tangled in your blankets. Yesterday was too good to be true. It must have been a fluke. Or maybe the gods liked to play with the hearts of innocent girls.

It hardly seemed fair that the bliss of knowing that you had a soulmate, the happiness of knowing that there was someone out there for you, the contentment of knowing that your weren’t destined to be alone could only last for less than a day.

You should have never bought into the whole soulmate thing. It seemed that your were destined for disappointment.

You heaved your body out of your bed and headed towards the kitchen to make coffee.

“Namjoon, are you okay?” Jin had approached him during a studio session. It was just the two of them because Jin had told him he only wanted to re-sing a part of a song they were working on.

Namjoon looked up his computer and over at Jin. Jin had a clear look of concern on his face as he worried about his younger member. Namjoon brows furrowed at the question. “Yeah, I’m good. Why?”

“You just...Since we got back you have been acting strange,” Jin explained as he nervously played with his fingers. “You’ve been staring at your string a lot lately… did something happen?”

“No...It’s nothing. Thanks for worrying about me.”

“Oh my gosh. I still can’t believe that you are leaving me to go to Korea!” Cailey whined as she drove you to the airport. “You don’t even know Korean,” she complained.

You laughed at her reaction. “I’m just going for two months. It’s part of a study abroad program. I get to tutor students in English.” You nudged her. “I’ll miss you too,” you playfully sing.

“Ah. Who said anything about missing you?” She scoffed. “In fact, I’m glad you're going. I need a break away from your mopey aura.” She sighed as she pulled up in front of the airport. “Are you okay. Do you want me to go inside with you?”

“I’m sure I can handle myself,” you responded as you gathered your bags from the back seat. “I’ll make sure to call you when I land.”

“Yes, no matter what time it is!” She agreed. “Find yourself a hot Korean fling while you're at it,” she laughed.

“What happened to saving yourself for your soulmate?” You questioned.

“Eh, if Koreans are as hot as those boys on that poster-”

“Oh my gosh, that was like a year ago!” You laughed. “How do you remember them?”

“Because I googled them when I got home. Their name is BTS. If you meet them get me an autograph.” She hurriedly unbuckled her seatbelt and reached over to envelop you into a hug. “Besides, their faces we kind of unforgettable.”

For once you agreed, but you didn’t tell her. You couldn’t get the dimpled face out of your mind. You couldn’t forget him. His face always came to surface in your thoughts when you found yourself dozing off during a lecture. Remembering him brought back the longing feeling.

“I’ll see you in two months,” you said as you finally bring yourself to open the car door. “Don’t miss me too much.”

“Ms Y/N!” one of your students called to you. You looked across the classroom to see a group of girls giggling as they all watched a video on one of their phones. “Come watch this!” The same girls grins at you as she waved you over.

You walked towards them. “You’re supposed to be doing your work,” you scolded lightly. But you couldn’t find it in you to be upset as you approached them. Besides, you were just a tutor and not an actual teacher. They all groaned and pleaded for a break. “A small break. But then get back to work.”

“Watch it! It’s BTS. They’re really good,” she pointed the phone towards you.

You watched as the group of guys danced and sang on screen. You blinked at the screen as the dimpled man came to the front of the group. “Is he rapping?” you asked as you noticed that he didn’t seemed to be singing like the others so far.

“Yeah. That’s Rap Monster!”

“Rap Monster,” you repeated as you watched the video. You felt a tugging on finger but you ignored it. Ever since you arrived in Seoul a month ago, your string seemed to alway be tugging and pulling you. Watching him brought back that longing feeling. Another one of them moved to the front to rap, “Oh another rapper?” you asked.

“Yeah. There’s three rappers.”

“Namjoon,” this time it was the whole group who approached him. They noticed that his behavior seemed strange lately. He was always anxious. He seemed to be always waiting for something that is never going to happen.

“Yeah?” he answered. He was concentrating on writing new lyrics. He suddenly had a spout of inspiration.

“Is everything alright with you?” Jin asked as he eyed the member with concern. “You’ve been acting strange lately…”

“I have a soulmate!” Namjoon declared happily as he looked up from his notebook. He watched as a confused look crossed all of his member’s face.

“Everyone has a soulmate,” Yoongi was the first to respond.

“Not me,” Namjoon answered as he shook his head. “It least I didn’t, or I thought I didn’t…” his words turned into mumbles towards the end. “My string was always different so I thought it meant that I didn’t have a soulmate.”

“Different?” Jungkook asked. “How so?”

“It wasn’t like stretched, you know. Like it felt like there wasn’t anyone on the other end pulling at it,” he explained. “But then a month ago, suddenly it’s pulled tight. Usually there’s a lot of extra string everywhere, but this time it’s actually stretched. And sometimes I feel a tug. That has never happened to me before, you know.”

The group remained silent as they processed their leader’s words. Taehyung is the first one to speak again with a bright smile on his face. “Your soulmate must be close by then! We should go find her!” He excitedly shouts. “Do you feel the tugging now? We should follow it until we find her!”

Yoongi scowled at the suggestion. “We can’t just-”

“No. I don’t feel any tugging now. But maybe later if I feel it I could follow it,” Namjoon sighed happily. “It just feel so nice to know that you have a soulmate. I thought I would spend my whole life without knowing.”

“What are you going to say when you finally meet her?” Hoseok asked. “Have you thought about it.”

“Hmm… I’ll just say ‘I’m Namjoon and I’m your soulmate’” Namjoon answered.

“You can’t just-” Jin started only to be interrupted by Yoongi.

“It’s short, simple, and straight to the point. I like it,” Yoongi patted Namjoon’s back before heading out of the room.

It was dimple man, Rap Monster. Except it wasn’t him. He looked different. But behind the different face, it felt like it was dimples man. You glanced around you, noticing that you were both standing in an open field. The sky was a bright blue. There seemed to be an endless amount of grass and flowers.

“Y/N. I can’t live without you anymore. It hurts,” he said. You turned your attention back towards him. He was staring at you with a desperate look on his face, he seemed like he was in intense pain. His hands reached out to grab you but your body moved away.

You wanted to reach out and comfort him. But it felt like you had no control over your body. “Namjoon. We can’t do this anymore. I must stay with my husband.” The words came out of your mouth but it wasn’t your voice.

“Don’t you feel it? The emptiness. Y/N, I feel so hopeless when I am without you. I can’t stand to be without you.” He pleaded. There were tears falling down his face. Your heart wept for him.

“Namjoon, we can’t,” you voice quivered. “My husband...he’ll kill you,” you pleaded. “Please, forget about me. Go live your laugh happily.” You felt hollow inside. You felt empty.

“We know that is impossible. We are soulmates. We have a bond, it’s unbreakable,” he laughed bitterly. “Just run away with me. We can be in a new city by sundown. Just come with me.”

“I can’t. I have a duty to my people.” You shook your head. “Perhaps if I would have met you earlier, then things could be different.”

“But the bond-”

“It can be broken,” you answered. “We can break it. And then we can be happy without each other.” You could feel tears fall down your cheeks. He reached a hand out to wipe them away. “Please. Let’s break it.”

“I...If it is what you truly want. I’ll do anything for you.”

You woke up with a startled. You wrapped you body around your pillow. Tears fell down you face as you wept for the couple. They were so in love but they could never be together. You could feel her pain. It felt so real. You wanted to run away with him. She wanted to run away from him. But her heart was torn between her love in him and her love for her people.

Why were the Gods so cruel?

Rain pelted Namjoon in the face. The sky was dark and gloomy. He could hear the distant thunder and a see the flash of lightning. His clothes were soaked and clung to his body.

He breathing is uneven. There is a sharp unbearable pain on the side of his stomach. His hands clenched at it. When he pulled his hand away to look at it, he found it soaked with blood. He wheezed as he tried to sit up, but his body seemed paralyzed. He wanted to call for help, but he couldn’t speak.

A figure appeared before him. It had a shape of a woman. Y/N. He thought.

The woman chuckled. “No. I’m not her,” she responded to his unspoken thought.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion until realization hits him. A Goddess. Please help me. Save me.

She chuckled again as she leaned down. “Yes. I am a Goddess. But sadly, I’m not here to save you. I’m here to punish you.” She explained. She clicked her tongue. “Namjoon, you’ve done a very bad thing. You broke your soulmate bond.”

I’m sorry. Please. He begged.

“I know it wasn’t your idea. It was Y/N. You should have disagreed. Well, no you both have to be punished.” She ran her hand through his hair comfortingly.

No. Please. Leave her be. I’ll take the punishment.

“You see, even without the bond. You still care for her. We Gods only wish to help you connect with someone who you can always rely on. That’s what the string is for.” She sighed. “If it were my decision, you wouldn’t be punished for it. Some of the Gods are over reacting, they feel to insulted. But I must.”

Please.

“Close your eyes, Namjoon. You won’t be in pain anymore when you awake in a new life,” she spoke softly, with sympathy. “At least not physically. However, you will live without ever meeting Y/N ever again. You will live with both of your souls on separate continents. And when you die again and reawaken again, you will still be on different continents. For you are to long for the bond you broke. That is your punishment.”

Please. Don’t.

“Close your eyes, my child. Be at peace.”

“Namjoon! Wake up!”

Namjoon eyes fluttered open to see Yoongi watching him with concern. He groaned as he sat up. “Where am I?” he grumbled.

“At your studio. I was coming by to see if you want food but you were screaming in your sleep.” Yoongi explained. He handed Namjoon a water bottle, which he gulped at appreciatively. “You okay man. It seemed intense.”

“It was intense,” Namjoon responded. “Very intense.”

“You want to talk about it?” Yoongi asked.

Namjoon shook his head. “No. It’s over now.”

You felt the tugging on your fingers. This time it seemed insistent. It wasn’t the usual tug or two and then it stopped. It was as if it wanted to lead you somewhere. You tried to ignore it as your browsed the English section at the bookstore.

“We should start walking towards the fanmeet!” a girl said to her friend as the walked by the bookcase you stood at. “It starts soon and I don’t wanna miss out at my one chance to meet BTS.”

You interest piqued as you heard the group name. The tugging became more prominent but you still stood at the bookcase.

“I can’t wait to see Rap Monster,” her friend responded as they walked out of the door.

At the sound of his name, the tugging sensations turned into a hard jerk towards the door. You thought your arm was going to be pulled off. You give in to the pull and began to walk out of the bookstore and into the mall. The pull lead you the same directions as the girls, you could see them up ahead.

However, it stopped about halfway and yanked you into a coffee shop. You let out a squeak as you stumbled inside and into someone else’s body. “Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry,” you apologized in broken Korean. “Sorry,” you repeated once more in English, just in case your pronunciation had been off.

“Y/N?” Your named fell out of the person’s mouth.

Your head snapped up to see dimple man, Rap Monster, standing in front of you with a surprised look on his face. You had wanted to ask how he knew your name but the sudden desire to hug him came over you. You don’t know why you hugged him but it felt right. His arms wrapped around you and pulled you closer to him. His hold was tight, as if he was afraid you would slip away.

The sound of someone clearing their throat brought you both back into reality. You pulled yourself away from him even though your body protested against it. You face was flushed as you tried to form coherent sentences in your mind.

“How - How did you know my name?” You questioned as you pointed at him. “Why did we just hug? Why do I still want to hug you?”

Someone spoke to Rap Monster in Korean. It was the first time you noticed that the rest of the group was with him.

“Namjoon. What’s going on? Do we need to call security?”

Namjoon shook his head at whatever he said. His eyes never left you. “Y/N,” he repeated. “My name is Namjoon and I am your soulmate.”

Your eyes widened at his answer. “What? Are you crazy?” You questioned as you backed away from him.

“How did you find me?” He asked. “It’s because you felt the pull, right? I felt it too.”

You shook your head. “Oh my gosh. My soulmate is a BTS member,” you whispered in disbelief. You hadn’t meant for him to hear you.

His eyes lit up. The smile grew on his face. “You know us? You know BTS? Are you a fan?” He asked excitedly. “You like our music?”

“No,” you answered. “My students like you a lot,” you explained. His smile fell for a second but it returned back fast.

“You’re a teacher? English?”

“I’m just tutoring some students while studying,” you answered. “I leave in a week.”

“You leave?” He asked, his eyes widened. “Already? We just met.”

One of the members spoke to him in Korean again. It sounded very urgent. Namjoon argued for a moment before sighing.

“I have to go to the fanmeet now. Um. You wait here until I finish. I’ll come back!” He looked hopeful. His members had to drag him out of the shop.

You watched until he disappeared.

“Oh my gosh!” Cailey squealed at you. You watched her on the screen of your laptop as you sat in bed. “You met your soulmate while in Korea. That’s insane!” She clapped happily. “Tell me all the details. Is he handsome? What does he do? Have you gone on a date yet? Are you getting married?”

You groaned at the million questions that flew out of her mouth. “It’s complicated, Cailey.” You rubbed at your face in frustration. “It’s not a practical relationship. Besides, I don’t think I’ll see him again. We didn’t even exchange numbers or anything.”

“What do you mean?” she asked. “He’s your soulmate. It is destined to work out.”

“He lives here in Korea. I live back home with you. There’s too much distance. It would never work out. Besides, he’s an idol. It would ruin his image.” You grumbled.

“AN IDOL!” She screeches. “You are so lucky! Who is it?”

You sighed. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes it does!”

You sighed again. “It’s Rap Monster from BTS.”

She screamed again and you contemplated ending the skype call. “Oh my gosh! BTS! I am like one step away from my true love Jin!”

“You already have your soulmate,” you reminded her.

She pouted. “Why do you get a K-Idol soulmate? You  don’t even want a soulmate,” she stuck her tongue out at you. “Come on. What’s the worst thing that could happen? Just meet up with him again.”

“I can’t,” you responded. “I never got his number or anything. He had to leave for a fanmeet. He asked me to wait but I was just too overwhelmed so I ending up leaving.” You shrugged. “Besides, I leave in a week.”

“Y/N,” she said softly. “I just want you to be happy.”

“I am happy,” you argued. “I was happy. I don’t need a soulmate to be happy.”

“That was before you met him. Now that you actually met him, it’s going to feel different. You don’t feel it already? How long ago was it when you met him?”

“Yesterday,” you mumbled. You knew exactly what she was talking about. Even though it had been only twenty-four hours, you already missed him. You sighed. “I’ll survive. It’s what I’m meant to do.”

You feel an immense emptiness inside every time you looked down at you string to see it slackened in a tangled mess. You feel an immense amount of regret every time see the red string pile on the floor by your feet. You feel an immense longing every time you think of him.

But you continued on. You were determined. You survived without him before. You hardly even knew the guy. There was no way you could have this deep connection. But you did anyway.

“Are you sure you are up for a world tour?” Jin asked with concern. “I mean, I know you must be hurting since she left.”

Namjoon sighed deeply. “Yeah. I can manage.”

“If only we knew where she was from, we could hold a concert in that city and try to find her,” Hoseok commented.

Namjoon jumped up at the idea. “Of course. Of course! Why didn’t I think of that?” He smiled hopefully.

“Think of what?” Hoseok questioned.

“Our last tour. There was a city we stopped in and I felt a tug. I didn’t think much of it then. But now, that must be where she lives!”

It’s been at least seven months since you left Korea. Seven months of you feeling absolutely hollow. Seven months and you still weren’t used to the way your red string dragged behind you.

“BTS is going on tour again!” Cailey smiled at you.

“Good for them,” you grumbled.

“Maybe they’ll have another concert here,” she nudged you. “Maybe you can find Namjoon again.”

“I doubt it,” you responded. “Our city isn’t known to host concerts often.”

“But they had one here before!” She argued.

You shrugged as you looked away from her.

The last time you felt it, it was 8 months ago. You forgot what it felt like.

You had been sitting in class when you felt the tug. You gasped as you looked down at your string. Once again it was pulled taut. You bite on your bottom lip before deciding to ignore it as you continued to take notes.

However, your note taking ceased. You stared blankly at your professor. You couldn’t concentrate with the tugging sensation.

“Let’s get some snacks,” Jin said. “I saw a grocery store just down the street.”

BTS were settling into the hotel room. They had a concert the next night and then they had a break in the city for a week until they had to move to the next place.

Namjoon was hoping he could find you within that week.

You felt a tug as soon as you stepped into the market. You decided again, just to ignore it. You lived in a big city, there’s no way you would run into him. All he had to do was perform at his concert and then go.

You placed some fruit into your basket. The tugging feeling grew more insistent as you ignored it. You walked towards the snack aisle.

There were two males standing in the aisle, There eyes widened as they saw you but you didn’t really pay any attention to them. You just wanted to find a bag of chips and then go home and avoid going outside until your string stopped pulling at you.

You finally chose a bag and placed it in your cart. You were about to walk out of the aisle when you felt a hard jerk. You stumbled to keep your balance. You sucked in a breath. The last time you felt a tug that hard, he was close by.

You hesitantly turned around to see that he had joined the two males at the other end of the aisle. His eyes were glued on to you as he walked forward. You string pulled at you to move closer to him but you panicked.

You panicked so badly that you ran out the store despite Namjoon begging you to stop.

You were telling Cailey what happened over a panicked phone call. There was a judging silence from her as you finished the story.

“Cailey?” You called, wondering if she hung up.

“You ran away from your soulmate, again? Don’t you think you’re being selfish?”

“Selfish?” You questioned. “How am I being selfish?”

“I know you think that you are handling the pain from being away from him just fine. But you aren’t. You act like you are but you aren’t.” She sighed. “I just want to strangle you!” She growled in frustration.

“How is any of this selfish?” You asked again.

“Have you thought about how he must feels. The bond goes both way. He must be miserable and dying. Imagine how he feels that his soulmate keeps running away from him?”

You never thought about that. “I-” you stuttered. You couldn’t wrap your head around how bad Namjoon must be feeling now. You never gave a second thought that he would feel the emptiness too. “I have to apologize.”

“Do you get it now?”

“I have to find him!” You stood up and searched for your coat.

“Where are you going?” Cailey asked. “It’s dark outside. You don’t even know where he is!”

You slipped your shoes on. “I can feel my string pulling me. I’ll just follow it.”

“Y/N. Just wait until morning!” She shouted from the other end of the line. “There’s no point going out right now to find him. He’ll still be here tomorrow.”

You bit on your bottom lip as you stood in front of your door. The tugging was coaxing you outside. “I’m going. I’ll text you when I get back home.” You hung up the phone before she could talk you out of it.

Namjoon couldn’t sleep with the constant tugging. He also couldn’t sleep because he couldn’t stop thinking about how you ran away. He thought maybe you were busy and had to leave when he had asked you to wait back in Korea. But now he knew that you meant to go.

He sighed before putting his shoes one and quietly slipping out of the hotel room.

The tugging lead you to a park. You could see him sitting on a bench. Panic filled you again, it was telling you to flee once again. However, this time you forced yourself to move forward. You forced yourself to continue forwards.

You came up besides him. “Namjoon.” It was the first time you ever said his name. It tasted like honey and tea.

He looked over at you. He hopped up once he realizes that it is you. “Y/N.” He whispered. He reached out to hug you but stopped halfway. He hands dropped to his sides.

“I owe you an apology,” you began. “I never really believed in this whole soulmate thing because, well I never thought I had a soulmate. You know, my string was different.” You explained.

“So was mine,” Namjoon agreed. “I didn’t think I had one either.”

“And when I met you, I just panicked. I didn’t think about how it would make you feel. I never really paid attention to the whole soulmate thing and I didn’t realize that you would feel…” you words trailed off as you stared down at your shoes.

Namjoon hesitantly grabbed hold of your hand. You looked up at him. “It’s okay. I forgive you,” he smiled at you warmly. You smiled back at him. “I feel like I’ve been looking for you for hundreds of years.”

“I feel like I have been waiting for hundreds of years.”

You sat by the window in your tower as you watched expectantly. “Princess Y/N, we brought you lunch,” you looked over at the servant girl who placed a tray of food on the table in front of you.

“Thank you,” you responded. “Has there been any visitors?” You asked.

The servant girl shook her head. “No Princess. May I ask who it is you are waiting for?” Her head was bowed and she avoided your gaze as she spoke.

“My soulmate,” you whispered.

She gasped before looking up at you. It was the first time since marrying the prince that anyone dared to look at you directly. “I thought you severed the string.”

“The string does not break the bond. It just makes it harder to find each other,” you explained. “The string is a gift from the Gods. It acts as a compass. But even without the string, the bond will be there. You will still feel the same way.”

“So you soulmate is coming for you?” she asked. Her eyes had an excited glint. “He’s going to take you away? You’ll be happy finally?”

“He must be just on the other side of the hill. I feel it.” You gazed out the window. “He’ll be here by nightfall. And then we can run away together.”

You picked up the cup of tea only to have the servant take it out of your hands. “Princess, if what you say is true. If your soulmate is to come and take you away, then don’t drink this tea.” She placed the cup back on the table. “It was brewed by the Prince himself.”

You blinked at her before sighing. “Thank you. I wish you the best when I leave.”

Namjoon’s bloody body was found before nightfall. Your cup is empty by morning.

#bts scenario #bangtan scenario #namjoon scenario #rap monster scenario #kim namjoon scencarios #bts soulmate au #bangtan soulmate au #bts scenarios #bangtan scenarios #rap mon scenario

[ecotone99]

[RO][HM][RF] Sean and Emily

Sean Sean exits the coolness of the kitchen and walks outside. A bright morning air inches past him. As he begins the walk towards school, he notices his nose dripping. Thin mucous slants across his lips. He lets it drip onto his shirt, then blows out of his nose to enhance the mucous flow onto his jawline. After a 15 minute walk, he finds the school grounds. He looks down, and doesn’t speak with anyone until he’s inside and taken his backpack off. Peering up, he’s face to face with his classmate, Bill. Bill smells like a bowl of mayonnaise that had spilled in a public restroom stall, and was left out overnight.

He beams at Sean cross-eyed. “Heyo there.” Bill’s eyes are now tightly connected with Sean’s. Bill smiles and abruptly clutches Sean with a steely grip. A wave of tranquility and euphoria wash over Sean as he accepts Bill’s love for what it is - simple and pure. Sean was in work mode now - he had to accept and blend into his surroundings. Everything smelled different here than at home. Fourteen kids with below-average wiping and bathing technique packed into one class, produced a unique funk.

With the funk came an awareness of action. Every remark he made, every sigh he let out of his mouth, every nod of his head, contributed to Sean’s brand. Sean’s brand at this point was nearly indistinguishable from an intellectually disabled child. Though this class was not a ‘regular’ class, many of the students had regular routines. Some routines were more spectacular than others. When Suzy entered the room for the first time of the day, she would march up to every student and teacher, and gruffly inform them of the current play theme. For the last week, Suzy came to class committed to the game of marching around as a band leader. She would stop during recess and sing whatever song struck a chord in her heart. Most recently, the song was an amped up, dancable, and highly improvised rendition of “The Grand Ol’ Flag”.

Other students assumed a more subdued and casual role at school. Moy, whose real name was actually Moises, would repeat his own name like a Pokemon would. Moy’s genial utterances lent themselves to any situation. When a kid fell and broke his nose, Moy smiled and slyly mumbled. When Jeremy would get handsy with the teacher’s assistant, Moy smiled and mumbled again. Though shorter than most kids, Moy’s facial hair had matured to the point where he had grown a visible black fuzz above his lip. Sean found comfort in Moy’s deep vocal register and his warm appearance. While most ‘regular’ school kids laughed at Suzy, Sean had recently become frustrated with Suzy. He had to fight off the urge to express his annoyance at how uncoordinated Suzy’s verses were. “Pick a fucking line of words, mumble and mumble it repeatedly, until the end of the song! It’s not that fucking hard, it’s a stupid song anyways. Even for a retarded person, you are dull as shit sometimes.” Yelling something like this at Suzy would immediately out him as a fraud, though. Sean was not actually intellectually disabled. He had been been acting that way since the second grade.

Sean had noticed at the age of 7 that his older brother, Andy, didn’t have any homework. Nor was he questioned by his parents about academic pursuits. His teenage sister was questioned by their parents every day after school. The Q&A sessions had devolved around the time Sean was 7. She would end up screaming, and threw sharp objects around her room. She seemed miserable, and had started to see a therapist.

Andy didn’t have any of these issues. When it suited him, Andy could stare at the wall for an hour, no questions asked. Sean asked her why Andy seemed so happy and calm, and was left alone by their parents. In a pedantic tone, she replied that Anthony was special, and couldn’t think as well as everyone else, so he didn’t have homework. This sounded like a lot of fun. A lot of stress free fun. Sean too, enjoyed staring into space and thinking about how he felt, and how he perceived the world. He wanted that freedom to do whatever he felt like. Maybe go explore ditches, or play with the dog, or just draw shapes with a colored pencil. Sean was socially advanced at a young age. He recognized that freedom came with a specific way of acting. If he could act and convince everyone that he was similar to his brother, he surmised that society would leave him out of the pressures he saw everyone else so stressed about. A couple months after he passed the test to qualify as intellectually disabled, he noticed a distance between him and his mom. She seemed puzzled and sad. She talked to him less and less frequently. Months after Sean’s test, she had replaced spending time and playing with him with more yoga, cooking, and marijuana. Smoking in the car before hot yoga helped focus her energies to something pleasurable and painful. There she found a place within her to forget about the deck of cards that she had been dealt. His dad was convinced that Sean didn’t fit into the cultural norms expected by the test. Given some time and gently consistent encouragement, Sean could reach the normal classes again. He continued to talk to Sean in the same earthy tone as he had before he had heard the news. He’d naturally share with Sean stories about people he’d talked to in the coffee shop, and recent funny conversations with his coworkers.

For about four years this customized lifestyle had flourished beautifully. Sean lived the life of an intellectual monk in secret. Though lacking the formal education second to sixth graders receive, he had picked up enough in first and second grade to read. Instead of homework, he meditated in his room, and snuck books that his sister had finished. She was into Beverly Cleary-style novels or illustrated books about whales. He learned to enjoy them, and imagined himself as a character or another whale singing to his fish friends. Sometimes he would imagine himself as a sperm whale. He’d swim into the darkness, while singing about how his day was going, all with that beautiful range of tones. Any nearby creature would hear him, and maybe he’d make them happy.

He cultivated a keen connection with nature. He could go on a hike down the street whenever he wanted, and he got to snuggle with a support dog whenever he felt like it.

While yes, the stress-free lifestyle suited Sean, he had found lately that he actually yearned for some stress. He felt empty and hot as he overheard other ‘regular’ kids on the school yard talking about how they just barely figured out a math problem (or at least pretended they knew how to), or how stupid or cool the book of the moment was. They often bonded talking about how old and demented the teacher Mrs. Hapland was. Sean felt the urge to chime in with a funny face or some rude sound. He admired the rowdy group of boys at his school. Looking past their rough edges; he saw them as a group of humorous, emotional explorers. They were the outsiders of his grade; respected, but too extreme and wild for regular popularity. “Whoa, I wonder if the producers at that pregnant granny site you sent me would even pay her in dollars. You know she would probably accept coupons for tuna as payment!” They turned red and hooted together. Sean could visualize the anal devices they often embellished, and was willing to surf that pregnant grandmother website! Both ideas disturbed Sean’s soul. But the insults opened a gate of shared ridiculousness and joy.

With longing, tranquility, and a bit of annoyance at Suzy for staring at him while breathing loudly for the last half of class, the last bell of Sean’s sixth grade year rang. Purposefully aimless and quiet, he walked home among the cheering mass of kids. Emily The first week of a new school was rushing past Sean’s fingertips. Wild eighth graders showed the way to act for the 7th graders, who were nervous, but more and more willing to yell and dash around teachers. Some teachers tried to stop them. During lunch, Sean and the others in his (7th and 8th grade) class hung around a table where they were supervised by a teacher’s aide. They ate there, tucked away on a peaceful slab of concrete in the shade, several hundred yards from where the rest of the school ate lunch. The only hints of the rest of the student body came from the faraway buzzing of lunch conversations and the occasional gawky stroller.

About a quarter of his class was new this fall. Derek, the immigrant from Greece, seemed to smell oddly spicy rather than unclean, and appeared to be somewhat intelligent. Maybe testing standards were different in Greece, and he would eventually test out of the class. Another quarter of his class disappeared. Sean didn’t really care where they had gone to - he was too distracted by the pervading tranquility and joy coming out in waves from the new student. Her name was Emily. He had picked up her name in roll call (more of a roll-tell, as the teacher’s aide approached each student and read their name aloud). She faced away from the table the entire lunch period. Her line of sight met to the bunches of palm trees growing on the other side of the school fence, on the edge of a field of weeds. At lunch Sean could only see the side of her face, but he could feel Emily’s detachment from the social circle that was crudely and awkwardly forming with the new class.

Suzy was naturally growing into the ringleader... She had acclimated to the increased attention she received with the larger school population. Many of the kids at the middle school had never heard of her, and were delighted to hear her slurred renditions of pop songs of the day. Sean had to admit that on a basic level, Suzy was a talented entertainer. She could hold a note long enough for everyone to recognize the song she had chosen - from Backstreet Boys to Linkin Park. Suzy’s main criteria for which songs to sing was if they contained at least one note that was held for more than five seconds. She would make it ten seconds. It scared Sean to think that she was the closest thing he had to a friend. He couldn’t even talk at a regular pace with his sister, out of fear that she would tell his parents that he had grown smarter. Suzy, the round, squinty-eyed beam of joy that she was, gave him the most face-to-face time out of anyone in the class. Her confidence and joy were contagious and pleasant, so he was OK with it for now.

Emily appeared just a little more composed than the rest of their class. She conveyed a centered, and blissful aura. He could somehow sense a different type of soul just by standing near her.

Was Emily just a more vacant member of his class? Or was she just like him: faking an intellectual disorder to maintain a peaceful and meditative lifestyle? Perhaps the desperation of authentic friendship compelled Sean to imagine that someone like him existed out there. Surely no one was as crazy as he was.

One way to test out her skill at cleaning herself, and thus her intelligence, was with his nose. At lunch, Sean got up from the metal bench and pretended to stumble. He’d polished this stumbling act over the years. Running into something at least once a day kept everyone aware of the fact that he indeed belonged. It was painful at times, and sad that teachers were never surprised when he hurt himself. Sean’s commitment to his mentally disabled character drove him past this the pain.

The stumble led him to collide with her shoulder, and he smelt her hair. It was a refreshingly clean scent compared to his surroundings. It smelt like tangerines and green apples, in a basket on a sunny kitchen counter. Either her parents could afford a great housekeeper who personally cleaned her before school, or she was indeed regular.

...She was regular! Probably. His chest lightened, and his eyes relaxed as he savored her scent. He slowly, awkwardly grinned (another acting technique he had learned from observing his classmates). The happiness Sean felt when he smelt Emily for the first time was so strong that the only way he knew to express himself appropriately was to cross his eyes and salivate. The buildup of saliva came out as drool, which landed on her shoulder. Drooling was on brand for Sean in general, so no one else in his class noticed. Sean’s eyes flashed to Emily’s profile, a foot away from his face. No reaction, not a flinch. Sean was curious and puzzled now. Either she was actually strongly intellectually disordered, or she was too focused on the Southern California dry fall climate to be bothered. Regardless, Sean knew for certain that he had a crush on her.

A week later, during PE class, Sean was walking around the track when he noticed Emily and Bill had wandered off behind nearby bushes. He wandered to meet them, and found Emily and Bill staring at each other. Emily’s eyes wavered and shuttered. Bill was definitely smiling as he thoroughly picked his nose. In his smile was a contagious feeling of bliss. Was the bliss from the fact that Bill felt great with his finger up his nose, or was it from something else? She shyly returned his smile. Their eyes were locked, and she felt a surge of heat pass through her body as his eyes blatantly stared at her chest. Unexpectedly, his arm shot out and she felt the same finger recently buried in his nose gently making circles around her upper chest bone. While her eyes yelped, she still thought no one was looking, and kept quiet. When she looked down at her chest in shock, she realized he had rubbed dark yellow mucus a few inches above where her bra started inside of her shirt. Hopefully none of the teachers would connect Bill’s hue of mucous with her T shirt, she thought. Sean watched from behind the corner, he choked on his own despair and jealousy. How could Emily not smell Bill from a mile away? Emily’s lack of “no” must stem from one if two places. Either she herself has special needs (and this situation is totally normal), or she’s allowing someone with special needs to touch her like this. Or maybe... she thinks Bill is ‘regular’. Bill was in fairness, the most handsome of the special class, and possibly on par with Sean himself. Bill had in fact been mistaken by a couple of raucous 8th grade girls earlier that week who had asked him to “show that D”. Bill laughed and hugged them instead. But Sean was convinced she was normal, which meant she had to be aware that Bill was not normal- they were in the same class after all. Did this make her consent to Bill’s fondling... somehow illegal? At this point in his “special needs” act, Sean had suspected he was breaking some sort of law as well. He wasn’t any better than her.

Why couldn’t he blurt anything out, and stop this from happening? Though he didn’t realize it at the time, Sean’s constant plotting meant he was not used to acting out on an impulse. Unable to hold his composure, Sean found himself slumping away from the corner, carrying a shrunken heart. A dark grinning thought occurred to him as he gazed at the hedges on his way back to the lunch table - maybe he had a shot using Bill’s technique. Surely she was just into Bill for the physical sensation or thrill of misbehaving - there was no way they could have an emotional connection. Sean was sure of it. He could try Bill’s way...! No, he would feel guilty trying to touch her body just for the thrill. This wasn’t the first time he had thought to give in to his physical desires.

In sixth grade, he had found himself attracted to his classmate Lisa. She was one of the first girls to wear a non-sports bra. He grabbed it through her shirt behind a maple tree during lunch recess. The puzzled, dead-eyed smile she gave in return still haunted him. Brittany had flashed him behind the same tree in fifth grade while he was picking a flower. This was a shock to him, as Brittany was in the regular class. It turned out she was flashing Gary, who was also in her class, who was standing several yards behind him. Gary was more dismissive than surprised - “Now you're bringing him into this? I’ve told you before, you’re sick.” Sean stood in the same spot every lunch recess for the next three months. She flashed him once more, only when Gary was there. Gary was less emotionally abusive to her the second time it happened.

If there was an emotional connection between Emily and Bill, it would be short-lived once she found out Bill was indeed mentally handicapped. Well… maybe … she’s OK with that, Sean thought. A mentally handicapped boyfriend would slowly nod and agree with her like a drowsy puppy no matter what she said. Through the constant agreement and easy conversation, she could convince herself that they were meant to be. If her parents let her date other mentally handicapped students, she might even be able to have him over to her room eventually. Was it ethical for Emily to have an emotional or physical connection that fit into the world that she had created for herself? Who was Sean to interrupt that world?

Part of Sean’s philosophical identity revolved around letting people do what they wanted to do. If people around him were choosing what they wanted, they would be less likely to lash out and agitate the calm and happy state of existence Sean had cultivated over the past four years. Was his current state of comfort something he was willing to risk to make a connection with the only person that could understand him? If he came out as normal to her, and she was actually mentally impaired, would she be able to remember enough tell an adult? If she were normal, would she automatically like him and be friends? Maybe she’s normal, and also into mentally handicapped dudes. Should Sean blow his cover and act like himself, or try to convince her that he too was mentally handicapped? If he exposed his cover, and she was not into him, she could easily tell on him to the authorities, and he would likely be sent to a mental institution. No girls, no rogue classmates, no home cooking for years.

He felt a hunch that they would get along, but he barely knew anything about her. It was hard to get to know each other since they had met the same way thousands of intellectually disabled kids had met. It was rare that any lasting relationships came out of friendships formed in the special education classroom. Something in his heart compelled him on, past the social obstacles, pass her dim love interest in Bill, and past a guaranteed future of security. Screw it, he was into it. He had to try to communicate with her.

So far all they had said to each other was a vague description of their family’s, and a few compliments. To be honest, Sean had savored and loved the process of courtship so far. It was a slow process though. He burped and winked at her. She flittered her eyes back at him. She screamed like the Pokémon Ponyta. He became hot and flustered, and laughed out loud. This teasing could go on forever! He had to know if she was worth pursuing. He had to kiss her and tell once and for all if she was special needs or not.

He knew what to do the next day during PE. He previously found an orange tennis ball in a gutter on a hike a few weeks back. For some reason, he was carrying it in his pocket around class today. He threw it near the shed when no teachers were looking. His heart skipped when she slowly veered off the track to follow the ball. He followed.

They were on the side of the shed, it was damp and smelled like grass clippings. Out of sight, Sean had the thought to drop all pretenses of his act - moving slowly now might ruin his chance. In a normal voice, he spoke to Emily “I really like you”. As he was aware that the word “you” had come out of his mouth, he immediately felt the corners of his mouth curling up, and a bright warmth beneath his dimples. Her eyes widened and then became slightly furrowed. Was she bewildered, or just not able to understand speech at the rate he was talking to her? Still smiling, he quickly kissed her. They could feel each other smiling as they kissed. She tasted… normal. She seemed… alive. Her centered energy seemed to dance around her smile as he pulled back from the kiss. Her pimples turned a shade brighter as their eyes connected. From that point on, Sean knew for certain that there was another, fully functioning mind behind her smile. Quickly they got back into walking around the track lest the lesbian PE teacher notice them.

Out of Class

Although everyone at school had smartphones to text, Sean rarely texted anyone. None of his classmates could read that well, and trying to obtain their number was a chore. His parents had set his phone up with their number, his sister’s number, and his brother’s number. He was debating whether to add more contacts. The first problem to get more contacts was who would text him back. Emily was the first person he had met who might text him back! He passed her a note that day in class.

~Your number?

~542 7856

...

Hey, I’ve thought about it, and I still like you.

Oh you, you are nice.

So are you:). A nice kisser:)

...

No response.

Worry crept into Sean’s mind as he sat cross-legged in his room. He had to travel deep inside that night’s meditation to try to escape the sudden change of emotions.

Two days later,

...

Thanks, you!:)

…

His heart raced. She was being real with him. He was part of her life. This was awesome. Sean broke right into his most pressing question:

...

Do you ever think about telling your parents that you’re actually normal?

...

Could she still be playing mentally handicapped? Could he have guessed wrong? Maybe she can’t spend so much time texting him since it would raise suspicions. Surely all of their text history must be stored somewhere. She must be aware of that. That’s why she's not texting him back. Or... maybe she just doesn’t like him, he thought. He must move forward. Onwards.

….

Do you really like me?

….

A day passes, then she replies:

…

Meet me during lunch tomorrow, next to the palm trees.

…

“Uh, we can’t do that again”

“Do what?”

“Act like we’re… with each other.”

“You mean kiss?”

“Yeah.. we could jus-

“-Those kisses were awesome!”

She blushed.

“Yeah, I guess. Sean, do you have a girlfriend?”

His heart was welling… it was finally happening. He had worried so much about the delayed text responses. She was going to ask him out! Love is so strange.

“Nope! I wouldn’t mind maybe being your boyfriend.. um... someday.”

Stupid. That was the dumbest thing he could have said. Still, he felt a wave of optimism at the moment he said it. He had put his feelings out there, awkwardly and shyly, but they were there.

“Ummm.. yeah. There are some details though, you should know about.”

“OK… What do you mean by that?”

“Sean, I won’t sugar coat this. I’m into retards.”

“Oh. Do you think I’m retarded? Are you offended that I use the word retard?”

“No, and no. I think we’re alike.”

“I see. OK.”

Sigh, and a silent pause.

“How can you be into those types? Are you into Bill?”

“Well, it’s hard for me to explain. I’ve never had to explain this to someone out loud. OK… Our families have known each other since we were small. It fits.”

“Alright, I get that. He’s your child love. I had one too. Kind of... But… Doesn’t it depress you to date someone who’s clearly special needs?”

“All of our needs are special, Sean. He’s especially gentle. He treats me like I want to be treated. He takes the time to get to know me slowly. He does everything slowly, with deliberation and confidence. It’s really very charming. If there’s one thing I appreciate about the people we pretend to be, it’s that they genuinely take extra time to learn everything. You, though. You’re kind of fast and unstable. You just go up and kiss someone you don’t even know.”

She continued:

“Plus, I don’t even know if you like me. Maybe you just feel horny, and you feel like you have a chance with me. I’m covered in pimples and in the special needs class. Don’t you think you could do better? Maybe you could find someone who likes talking about anal toys and grandma porn like I can tell you do.”

Sean could feel his heart breaking. His instincts had led him here. His one non-disabled, beautiful, pimple-covered friend. Thought he was crazy all along. Maybe he was. Maybe he had chuckled and shared some of the punchlines made by the rogue group who would hang out near the special needs table at lunch. They would test our their most extreme material in front of his class. The teachers didn’t seem to care.

Even if Sean was crazy, he knew what he felt. Confident, with love in his heart, he stood his ground.

“I really like you though. I don’t like you because I think you’re an easy target. You’re the most beautiful soul I’ve ever met. You’re the first person I’ve met…who I can be myself around. You make me feel… wild. But gentle at the same time! And I can tell by the way you smile and beam when we talk slowly that you feel the same around me. I want to keep trying to dart in and kiss you. I love it! Is there honestly anyone else out there who’s lived this type of double life, who can truly understand us better than we can each other?”

Emily’s eyes darted, and began to tear.

“Maybe someday we can even tell our parents that we’re not disabled. I’ve been thinking about it for a little while anyways. I know we just met, but it feels right.”

She locked eyes with his, and narrowed her gaze.

“I don’t think that’s going to happen any time soon, Sean. We can just be special friends. It’ll take time, Sean. After a while, you’ll feel better than before. You’ll have plenty of friends besides me.”

As he pondered the next few days, Sean strove to see the wisdom in Emily’s stance. She was fully committed to acting like she had an intellectual disability, and she was absolutely thriving. He thought, yeah, he could still have fun in his circumstances. So what if his soul mate didn’t want to kiss him, and enjoyed to be slobbered on. This must be a pretty typical experience. His dad would say this was natural. Everything was natural apparently.

His thoughts soared past his current heartbreak. He imagined his future life, and it was bright and full. As a grocery bagger, he might be able to look down housewive’s blouses. At the water exercise classes, he could stay in shape, get creative with some water dance moves, and exchange simple greetings with the elderly. In a couple of decades, he could get a job as a greeter at the local Wal-Mart. With that Wal-Mart money, he could eventually get his own place, and masturbate whenever he wanted.

On a deeply personal level, Emily had shown him through example that he could live a happy life by loving a person with intellectual disabilities, just like she did. He could look past his future girlfriend’s characteristic Down's Syndrome eyes, straight into her heart. Who knows, maybe he wouldn’t be stuck with an intellectually disabled girlfriend in the future. Maybe there were more sleepers like Emily, who acted like they were mentally disabled, but were in fact just cruising through life like Sean. The more he thought about it and encouraged himself, the more likely this seemed. Things were looking up for Sean. He had convinced himself that he was a happy person, on the road to an average lifestyle, left alone by everyone.

Following each striving peak of self-confidence, however, doubts from the back of his mind would simmer to the surface. When they did, darkness and hopelessness would take hold. From an honest perspective within himself, he realized he was simply planning how to fill the void of his soul mate’s rejection by stuffing down his sadness. He couldn’t block her face out of his head when he was by himself. His sister’s books only delayed the escape from the feeling of her smiling kisses. Why did he still feel so strongly towards her? She had turned something on inside of him that didn’t have an off switch. He couldn’t sit still with his thoughts.

If he started speaking his mind to the people in his life, and admitting he was faking a mental disability at this point, he would get sent to an asylum. Or to jail. No… you know what, his life was cool, and it could only get cooler. Several times a day, he would inwardly rally around how cool he was. He had plenty of special friends. He had the rest of his life to make friends with other people while he pretended to be disabled. At least until he graduated high school, then he could travel to Mexico maybe. He could blend in as a Mexican. Then perhaps, he would find his bliss. But that was years away.

He felt afraid to acknowledge how much he was still into Emily to anyone else. It was difficult because they were in the same class. A couple weeks after they had last talked, he saw she and Bill were driving ahead of him in his parents car after school. Bill and Emily were in a convertible. At the sight of them together, he felt a burning sadness, and realized his cheek was wet. Was he crying, or had Bill’s drool, which was visibly flowing out of the convertible into the wind, landed on him? Either way, Sean tried to hide his emotions in front of his parents. He hid his feelings from her as well. Trying to tell her how he felt was dangerous and probably fruitless. Her head was in a happy and stable place, so he had to honor her choice not to see each other.

He eventually told Suzy how he felt, and she sighed, smiled and hugged him. It helped a bit. His depression and headaches were only temporary, he would tell himself. If he just wrote about what made him feel happy, maybe it would stick. Maybe he would grow. When he returned to his desk to draw colored circles, he wrote a few sentences about how he felt onto a notepad, then hid it under the floorboards of his room. The next day he took it out again, and continued the process of recording his feelings. As he progressed, he felt a burden slowly releasing. It was as if a higher force grasped his heart from the ground with tweezers, and placed it back into his chest.

He planned to post his story as a work of fiction on Reddit through an anonymous browser. At least someone else might read this and be happy someday, even if his life was going to be mediocre and depressing. Maybe some people would get a laugh out of it.

A month later, and he had finished the love story of his life. Before posting it on Reddit, he copied and pasted it in a text message to Emily.

He sent it.

…

Author’s notes

One main them I had in mind while writing this story is the feeling of the universe frightened at perceiving itself. Amidst a sea of falseness and mental retardation, Sean and Emily see the potential they could bring out in each other, and it invokes fear.

I chose the middle school backdrop because it represents a time of rapid growth and questioning values. It also adds a light-heartedness to the characters and storyline.

The intellectual disability act to the outside world and contrasting ‘normal’ inner mind represents how love can inspire people to find courage to be themselves, even if it’s difficult and uncomfortable. Hopefully the weird setup inspires people to use their minds.

A theme that really fueled Sean and Emily’s original and continued decision to act intellectually disabled was their shared value of inner harmony. As a culture, Americans are really into valuing inner harmony and wellness. This story is an exaggerated take on the cost of wellness and serenity. How far should a person go to preserve inner peace?

Overall, the story is meant to poke fun and raise questions at the desire to fit in and stick to the path of least resistance. The paths Emily and Sean were on before they met each other, while unconventional and maybe illegal, offered them very little resistance, along with some peace and happiness. Can their choices leading up to seventh grade be labeled as thoughtful and modern? Is it worth throwing everything away to connect with someone else? Will the act of connecting with each other and revealing their true nature to their world make both people happier, or lead to incarceration?

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[sleeponrooftops]

When I was twelve, I started writing Good Charlotte fanfiction. Yes, I know. They were my first real "punk" band, and they probably saved my life in the seventh grade. I started writing this one story, though, that had an original character. I fell so in love with him that I took him out of that world and wrote his own story. It was 37 chapters long, and it spanned over 20 years of his life. I never finished it, and I never edited it. Every single day since I first met him, though, he's been in my brain. Some of my thoughts are in his voice. I wonder what he would do in certain situations. I find myself thinking of where he would be now, what he would be doing. I let his wisdom guide me sometimes, and I dream about him often. I have whole conversations just with him while I'm driving. He is older than Mason, older than Colin Luan and Eoin Hayes, older than all of my men, older even than Rónán. He is the first love of my life. Thirteen days ago, I said hello again for the first time in thirteen years. How weird is that? The strangest thing is that I pulled a card tonight before class that made so much sense to me right now. I don't know that I've ever drawn a card BEFORE class, always after. I didn't think twice about it, just went to class where I laughed and danced and played. At the end, we settled in for savasana, and my mind went dark. I wasn't in the studio anymore, wasn't anywhere that I could see. I couldn't feel the ground beneath me, couldn't feel my body around me. I could hear his voice, though. It was nothing profound, and really, nothing coherent. Just an overheard conversation. When I started to come back, I could feel a card in my hand. I KNEW it was his card. I knew I needed to pull one as soon as possible. I could feel the edges of it digging into my palm. I could feel my fingers wrapped around it. I drove home trying to find his song on the radio, knowing that he was calling to me. He was waiting for me. The sun is hope. It is understanding. Is it my truth. It is possibility becoming reality. It is joy. It is the light after dark. And oh, if you knew his story. One day soon, you will. #alexhart #marywrites #tarot #alexthedestroyer

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