#it almost feels like aggressive denial here where he insists that yeah he really really really likes GIRLS and GIRLS ONLY

[daily-hanamura]

#ok but i wonder if yu took up yosuke's offer to share his bicycle to school back in April #thus triggering another blow to yosuke's presumed heterosexualitu #the entire motorcycle plan was framed by yosuke as a means of getting intimate with a girl BUT as we can see motorcycles weren't necessary #a normal bicycle does the same thing #it almost feels like aggressive denial here where he insists that yeah he really really really likes GIRLS and GIRLS ONLY #ARE YOU GUYS LISTENING ITS JUST GIRLS OK NOT BOYS #p4 #p4g #p4 golden #persona 4 #hanamura yosuke #yosuke hanamura #he's good with his queue

[heartslobbf]

let’s talk about perfuma. imo, she’s one of the best characters in the show despite being underdeveloped, and i wanna explain why. she could’ve been extremely average, just some lanky flower girl that doesn’t believe in violence and loves everyone, but she is so much more than that (and it pisses me off that y’all reduce her to that).

in her introductory episode, perfuma is clearly in denial about the horde almost destroying plumeria. she doesn’t want to acknowledge the problem, wants someone else to take care of it for her. she’s scared of change, and that is because change makes you vulnerable. if things always stay the same, there’s a whole lot less danger and uncertainty, and therefore you’re safe. secure. perfuma’s kingdom is dying and she can’t bear to accept it because it is unknown to her. it’s putting her in a position where she is no longer secure. this fear of vulnerability can also be seen at the beginning of 1x10 when the princess alliance falls apart and she literally says ‘being together makes us vulnerable.’

the thing is, perfuma isn’t wrong. look at her choice of words. she says that being together makes them vulnerable, not weak. here, she kind of has the words mixed up, but we see that by s5 she has come to understand the difference. that’s what’s so great about perfuma, her motivation to do better, her hunger for self-improvement. it’s why she’s such an important part of catra’s redemption, actually, because she embodies the kind person catra is or wants to be.

let me explain: perfuma is an angry, impatient, short-tempered character. we are shown this again and again with her passive aggression to others and how easily mermista can annoy her with trivial things (sitting in her seat in the war room, for example). catra is also an angry, impatient character, but perfuma works every day to manage those emotions. she knows she needs them, she uses them as a tool (calling catra out, for example, is a time they were practically pivotal for getting her point across) but she also acknowledges they can hurt the people she loves. we know she does a meditation ritual each morning and we see in 4x02 how quickly she can unravel without it. she wants to be better. she puts the work in. that is such a valuable lesson for a character like catra who has always felt she’s just not good enough, she’s always going to be this angry and unlovable and no one can do anything about it.

so, 4x02. it’s a brilliant episode for perfuma’s character, really, and the first proper development we’ve had since 1x04. we see her anger, her impatience, but we also see her self-doubt. her belief that she’s inadequate, ‘just a flower girl.’ this is also when we get introduced to her little mantra that becomes a bit of a motif later on, ‘i can do this.’ we know perfuma doesn’t wholeheartedly believe this, but she says it anyway because she wants to. perfuma wants to be better. she will do whatever she can to be her best self, whether that be actually conquering her gripes with cacti or realising there’s a loophole with the roots (love that conflict resolution by the way, another good deconstruction of hero bs by spop).

this episode is also significant because it comes back to perfuma’s fear of change, of vulnerability. she’s thrown into a situation she doesn’t want to be in, one she feels miserably unprepared for, and she hasn’t done the one thing that puts her at her best beforehand, but she pulls through in the end because she is surrounded by people that support her, that listened to her and consoled her when she was vulnerable. 4x02 teaches perfuma the power of self-worth and the power of true, mutual, unconditional love, which can only come with vulnerability.

and this is where her character gets really interesting, in my humble opinion. ngl, one of the reasons i love perfuma so much is because she’s a pisces and i am too. i’m not gonna go astrology hoe on you rn, i’m just using this to demonstrate the part of her character that teaches others. pisces, if you don’t know, love to play therapist. we like to help the people around us with whatever strifes they may have because we think we’re fucking great at it. perfuma actually is.

you know how i said perfuma learns the importance of self-belief and vulnerability? yeah, she teaches both of those lessons to other characters in s5. like i said, perfuma is a character who values self-betterment and also happens to be a pisces, so when she sees scorpia, riddled with so much self-doubt and such low self-esteem, her immediate response is just i’m gonna teach that bitch how to love herself. and she does!

i’ve seen some people say they don’t like scorfuma because it seemed as though the writers just decided to ‘fix’ all of scorpia’s problems by giving her a girlfriend. that’s very dumb, first of all because they aren’t even together by the end of the show, they’re just interested in one another. second, the whole point of she-ra is that we’re stronger together. scorpia doesn’t go through growth in s5 because a girl likes her, she goes through growth because someone is showing her support and love for the first time in her life and that empowers her. you know, the worth that scorpia finds in herself doesn’t hinge on perfuma, like it did with catra. it’s about her as an individual, and perfuma so clearly makes it about that when her big lesson revolves around singing. scorpia loves singing. perfuma tells her she should do it because she enjoys it, a sentiment you’d never hear in the horde, and when scorpia does sing, she is actively rejecting the people who did make all her self-worth hinge on them catra. she’s doing something for herself, because she enjoys it, because it makes her happy, because she can.

it’s that same mantra: i can do this, i can do this. i really love how this was brought back from 4x02, how perfuma repurposed something that taught her such a valuable lesson for someone else. perfuma and scorpia are great foil characters actually, both constantly underestimated and thought of as weak by their groups, but some of the strongest characters in the show due to their deep value of love and self. i can do this, and i know i can because you believe in me, because i believe in myself. it’s brought back again in 5x10, when the last thing perfuma says before scorpia breaks the beam is ‘i know you can [pull through]’. she tells catra she believes in scorpia. it’s that belief, that support from other people that empowers the self to believe it too. we are stronger together, you know??

anyways, onto vulnerability. return to the fright zone is in my top ten episodes of the whole fucking show and you might think that’s a bit weird but i don’t. 5x10 encompasses so many important themes of spop so well and tells them with scorfuma and spinnetossa, our two side lesbian couples. this is significant since perfuma literally draws a parallel between her and catra at the end of the episode, and catradora and spinnetossa have always been significant to one another. i’m gonna say it, perfuma is the reason catra is finally able to confess to adora in 5x13. i’ve already talked about how important perfuma is to catra’s motivation to improve, but she literally makes catra rethink everything about strength and vulnerability, two words catra has a lot of feelings about.

catra fears vulnerability. we know this. she has such a deep love for those important to her but is never able to articulate it because she worries she’ll be taken advantage of, shot down, laughed at, whatever. all of this stems from the abuse she suffered at shadow weaver’s hands and her attachment issues, and it’s also why catra pretends to hate scorpia’s very open displays of affection and love: she sees it as weak because she has been taught to, but it’s all she ever really wanted to be.

we also know perfuma used to fear vulnerability. she doesn’t any more. the entirety of the episode leading up to her and catra’s heart-to-heart is her being vulnerable, putting herself in a position where she’s in danger but believing it’s worth it. and it is. despite what everyone said to her, perfuma is right: it was worth it. she got through to scorpia, even if it was only for a moment. she literally spells it out to us and catra with one of the best lines in the whole show: it’s hard, keeping your heart open. it makes you vulnerable, but it doesn’t make you weak, and i have to believe it’s worth it.

back in 1x10, perfuma was right: being together makes you vulnerable. horde prime tries to use people’s relationships against them, that’s literally the plot of save the cat, the point of pitting catra and adora against one another. he sees them as weak, just like shadow weaver deems adora’s feelings for catra ‘confusing’, just like light hope insisted adora was a danger to her friends as long as she was around them. they were all wrong. yes, they’re vulnerable. perfuma acknowledges that vulnerability puts you in danger, that it’s difficult to do that, but she knows it doesn’t make you weak. weakness vs strength is a big conflict in 5x10 literally introduced to us with netossa’s theories on everyone’s weaknesses in the first few minutes.

like perfuma says, friendship isn’t a weakness. it’s her greatest strength. her belief in love is literally what saves her and adora’s lives, it’s what saves everyone who got chipped, glimmer, bow. belief in love, both of others and yourself, is what saves adora in her dying moments. perfuma summarises she-ra’s entire fucking message to us repeatedly in 5x10 and she tells it to catra because catra is the one who will do the most with it. that glance at adora, it’s obvious what it means. perfuma is telling catra she should be open with adora about her feelings because you have to believe it’s worth it.

you won’t get anywhere waiting for other people to make the move. she-ra couldn’t heal plumeria’s lands, so plumeria had to fight their own battle alongside her no matter how much they felt unable to. the rebellion couldn’t move mara’s ship, so perfuma had to despite thinking she wasn’t strong enough. the reason they always win in the end is because they have each other, they have love and support and people motivating them to do better. just like perfuma motivates herself to do better.

it’s the mantra. i can do this. i can be vulnerable and still win, because i have love. and it’s hard, it’s so fucking hard to be vulnerable when you’ve feared it all your life and you’re so angry, so hurt, but you have to believe it’s worth it. and it is. it is, it is, it is, love is stronger than anything and being vulnerable for the people you love is the only way you can ever get what you want from them. perfuma as a character embodies that, having learnt it herself, and teaches the lesson to one of the characters who needs it the most.

adora is dying, and catra loves her, and she knows she does, and she just has to believe. adora is dying, and she loves catra, and she knows she does, but she doesn’t believe. not until catra teaches her too, in that moment, to realise they were all wrong, light hope, shadow weaver, horde prime. adora doesn’t need to let go, she needs to hold on and believe she will be pulled back up by the girl she loves. she needs to believe she deserves it. that it’s worth it.

and it is.

#ANYWAYS I FUCKING LOVE PERFUMA THANK U QUEEN FOR BEING THE BEST SIDE CHARACTER #sjdjeksmnf sorry this is long i tried to keep it short #I HAVE SO MUCB TO SAY ABT HER #shut up daisy #spop #perfuma #scorfuma #catra #scorpia #catradora #adora #spop meta

[imagining-supernatural]

The First Conversation

Part 14 of Seventy Percent

Series Summary: When you left on your trip to Vegas, you’d planned on letting loose for one last weekend before heading back to reality and getting your affairs in order so your best friend wouldn’t be left cleaning up your mess when your cancer finally ended your life. What you hadn’t counted on was waking up married to a celebrity who has a knight-in-shining-armor complex, connections with an oncologist, and amazing insurance…

Chapter Summary: Jasmin saw the interview with Sebastian and has some things to say

Word Count: 1,198

“Sebastian Stan?!?” Jasmin’s voice yelled over the phone as soon as you said hello.

“Good morning to you too,” you said, amused. Seb looked up from where he was eating breakfast next to you and grinned. Even if your volume hadn’t been up high on your phone, he still would have been able to hear her exclamation. Hell, everyone from Salt Lake to New York probably heard her.

“You’re married to Sebastian Stan.”

“I’m guessing you saw his interview last night.”

“I almost called you at one o’ clock this morning when I saw it online. But then I remembered that you’re not supposed to fly commercial and you would have definitely flown over here to beat the shit out of me for waking you up so early but BABE! You’re married to Sebastian Stan.”

“Yeah. I think we’ve established that.”

Seb motioned from himself to your phone, raising an eyebrow. With a soft chuckle you put your phone down and turned on speakerphone.

“Mornin’ Jasmin,” he greeted.

There was silence for a second before she mumbled a soft holy fuck. “G-good morning Sebastian!”

“It’s nice to finally talk to you,” he said, smiling. “Thanks for your advice on how to deal with bitchy Y/N.”

“You’re fucking welcome. Thanks for taking care of her.”

“You’re fucking welcome,” he repeated her words back at her, tossing you a wink. “She’s not so bad to be around. Makes it easy.”

Another round of silence fell and you could tell she was freaking out over talking to one of her favorite celebrities. So, you changed the subject. “Hey Jaz, I was actually going to call you yesterday, but it got a little crazy.”

“Oh yeah! You had your scans, right?” Her voice seemed normal, at least. But, knowing her, she was still freaking out. Maybe bouncing up and down on her bed. Dancing around. Who knows?

“Yeah. The tumor shrunk a bit.”

“Finally! So it’s working, right? That’s good news?”

“Yeah, it is. Uh, the doctors gave us two options on how to proceed.” You ignored her little squeak when you said the word us. “Since it’s still slower progress than they hoped, we can either get more aggressive or keep going with the current route. Jason and I—sorry, Seb and I” you ignored how she softly repeated Seb like she still couldn’t believe it and Seb’s questioning look at your slip, “—decided to keep going how it is. It’ll be slower progress, but if it’s working, why risk a change?”

“And,” he added, giving you a look that begged an explanation for your Jason comment. Mentally, you added explain why you referred to him as Jason Momoa when talking to Jasmin to your to-do list. “If it stops working, we can always change to the more aggressive option.”

“But it’s gonna work,” she said resolutely. Even in her shock at your husband’s identity, you could still count on Jasmin to be your number one cheerleader.

“Yeah,” you agreed, sharing a smile with Seb. “Yeah, it is.”

He leaned over and kissed your head before standing. “I’m going to go finish getting ready. Sean should be here in about fifteen minutes.”

“I’ll be ready.”

His hand was on your shoulder as he leaned closer to you and your phone. “Nice talking to you, Jaz. Take care.”

“You too! Take care of our girl… Seb.” You had to bite your lip to stop the giggle at her hesitance using his nickname, and a glance at Seb mirrored your face.

“Always. Fifteen minutes, Y/N.”

“I got it,” you said, pretending to be annoyed as you took your phone off speaker. “Now leave me to my girl talk.”

“Holy shit,” she breathed. “Holy fuck.”

“Deep breaths, Jaz.”

“I just talked to Sebastian Stan.”

“He’s not that great,” you said. “I mean, he hates Weird Al so…”

“But he’s taking care of you! Everything he’s done for you! Babe, how are you not freaking out?”

Oh, you were. But for different reasons. Mainly the starting to have more than just friendly feelings kind of reasons. “Okay, fine. He is pretty awesome. More than pretty awesome, actually. But you really need to get over your star-struck-ed-ness. He’s just a guy. Does what any other guy would do. I mean, staying married to a complete stranger so she can use your insurance and stay in your home while she becomes a bitch through her cancer treatments and yells at you for caring and still sticking around. Definitely something anyone would do,” you said facetiously.

“Oh yeah,” she responded in kind. “Sure. Definitely a normal human reaction. Have you kissed him yet? I mean, I guess you kissed him in Vegas, right? Had to have consummated your marriage and all that. But you said you don’t really remember that night so it doesn’t really count and—”

“Jaz! Drop it. It’s not like that.”

“Make it like that.”

“Not right now. I can’t.”

“So you do like him like that.”

“I—I don’t know.” You were carefully choosing your words, knowing that Seb might be able to overhear anything you said and you weren’t in the frame of mind to complicate things. Not when you still weren’t sure why he’d insisted on you sleeping in his bed with him last night. “It’s… I just don’t know, Jaz.”

“Which, in Y/N language, means that you looove him. You want to kiiiiss him. You want to have his baaabies. You want—”

“Whoa! Slow your roll. Let’s not misquote shows, okay? That’s treason.”

“But I’m not wrong.”

“Yeah, you are.” Was that a lie? You had no idea. “I gotta brush my teeth before I leave for the hospital. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Mm-hmm,” she intoned knowingly. “Sure. It’s not like you’re trying to get out of this conversation, or anything.”

“You’re gonna keep this to yourself as long as you can, right?”

You could practically see her nodding. “Yeah. And I’ll let you know if anyone comes sniffing. But Y/N. Remember the great philosopher George R. R. Martin once said, ‘Most men would rather deny a hard truth than face it.’”

“No, fuck George R. R. Martin. Unless you get me a real, live, fire breathing dragon, you don’t get to quote his books at me.”

“Then who can I quote at you?”

You considered for a moment, flipping through your mental notebook of quotes until you landed on one. “How about Lev Grossman?”

“Nooo,” she groaned. “Those books are so depressing. Whatever quote you’re about to pull out of your ass is—”

“’If there’s a single lesson that life teaches us,’” you interrupted her, “’It’s that wishing doesn’t make it so.’ So, babe, wish all you want. Won’t make it that hard truth you’re lookin’ for.”

“Go brush your fucking teeth,” she said in the tone of voice that had you imagining an eye roll on her part. “And think about your life choices.”

“I will. And Jaz?”

“What?”

“Love you.”

“I love you too. Even if you are so deep in denial that you might never make it out of Egypt.”

A long groan escaped your through. “That was such a bad joke.”

Fangirl #1 Jasmin is On Board!! lol. But we get a peek into the backstory on the next part.... what do you think is in the reader’s past??

CHAPTER 15: The Backstory

#sebastianxreader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian x reader #sebastian x reader fluff #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader fluff #marvel fanfic #mcu

[spaceskam]

inspired by a fic that i cannot find and therefore i feel I hallucinated. also apparently ballsy enough to post this when notifications are in hell 

Summary: Different things that happen within the year after Max died. 

warning: a lot of sad. happy ending though

ao3

Alex left Roswell two days after Max died.

“Please, please don’t leave,” Michael had begged him, “We need you. Maria and Liz–they need you. I need you.”

Alex had grabbed his cheeks and smiled all sad and beautiful. He’d kissed him and it felt like a goodbye. Michael didn’t try to stop the sob that cracked through his chest and left him aching.

“Is it because I kissed Maria? It wasn’t anything, I swear, I was just–”

“Michael,” Alex said softly, but stern. Michael whimpered at the sound of his name, rolling his forehead against Alex’s collarbone. “This is something I have to do to keep you and your family safe. I’m not angry at you.”

“I don’t want to be safe without you,” Michael whispered, crying harder and clutching tighter.

“You don’t mean that.”

“Alex,” Michael whined one last time, “I need you to stay with me. I can’t do this without you.”

“I’ll come home, I promise.”

“When?”

Alex didn’t give him an answer.

Isobel left Roswell one week after Max died.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Michael yelled, glaring with a level of anger he’d never been able to find for Isobel before.

“I need to get out of this hell hole, Michael!” she screamed back, face red with rage.

“Max is fucking dead! You’re just going to leave me to pick up the fucking pieces?! You’re not going to help?!” Michael followed her out to her car, still shouting at her regardless of what sort of scene they might’ve been causing. Fuck this. Absolutely fuck it.

“My husband was an abusive serial killer and my brother is dead! I need to get away from it!” she told him, slamming the door to the backseat.

“Are you gonna come back and help me?! Are you expecting me to just fucking fix shit?!”

“This isn’t about you, Michael!” she spat, shaking her head, “I’ll come back eventually, I need to get away from this!”

“When are you coming back then, huh?! When are you going to help?!”

“I don’t know!”

She drove off without saying goodbye.

Maria separated herself two weeks after Max died.

“Maria, forget about me and everything, Liz needs you right now.”

“And where was she when I needed her?”

Michael gulped and bowed his head. His hands were shaking, desperate to hold onto someone that he still could. Maria couldn’t run away from Roswell like the rest. He thought that meant he had a chance to try. Yet, even she was done.

“She’s sorry about that, we both are,” Michael insisted, “We’re sorry about everything.”

“You all lied to me about everything, Guerin, for decades,” she said. It wasn’t even bitchy, so he couldn’t even find the right words to defend himself. And, when he tried, she didn’t even let him get past opening his mouth. “Withholding the truth is the same as lying when it comes to this.”

“I know,” he sighed, slumping down further, “It’s just, Liz needs someone.”

“And she has you,” Maria said. When he got up the courage to look at her, he tried to look even more pathetic than he felt. He already felt pretty pathetic.

“You really gonna cut us off completely?”

Maria held her head up high.

“I have to do what’s right for me.”

She kept her word.

Kyle… tried.

“I can, uh, bring that heart monitor over when I get off, but I get off at five in the morning,” Kyle said, his voice muffled. There was something horrifically annoying about a man who worked 80 hours a week.

“Nah, it’s whatever,” Michael grumbled, shuffling the grocery bags from one hand to the other as he tried to make sure he had what he needed. He and Liz were pulling an allnighter in the cave again. “It’s not like we’re doing anything important or anything.”

“Hey, I’m trying,” Kyle argued. Which, he was. But trying was hearing from him maybe once a week. “Also, I’m flying out to search shit with Alex on my day off this weekend, I’ll let you know if we find anything.”

“You still talk to Alex?” Michael asked, feeling his heart ache all over again.

“Yeah, dude.”

“Cool, glad the resurrection of my brother is less important than anything else.”

“It wouldn’t be if he wasn’t such a jackass.”

Kyle kept in touch when he could. He helped when he could. It just wasn’t enough.

Liz showed up at the airstream at three AM two months after Max died.

“Mikey?”

Michael opened his eyes and looked up to the crying girl that had come to him in the middle of the night. It wasn’t too out of the ordinary for them to spend nights together, usually falling asleep in bunkers or labs after going 48 hours on nothing but energy drinks. They no longer had anyone to police them, leaving it to just be them two against the world.

Only, tonight was a little different.

Liz hadn’t cried since Max died. He wasn’t sure if it was denial or anger or what, but he’d liked that she was the only one who hadn’t fled. He didn’t like seeing her cry though, so he opened his arms and let her crawl up against him. It only made sense when she told him she was pregnant.

Michael considered breaking down then, considered screaming and cursing a God he didn’t believe in about why the hell they were being thrown another fucking curveball. Why, after everything, was this happening to them? He wanted to let himself break.

However, crying hadn’t made Alex stay. Anger hadn’t made Isobel come home. Guilt-tripping didn’t make Maria stick around. Being passive-aggressive didn’t make Kyle help. None of those would work now.

Instead, he chose to be strong. That seemed like the only option left. Nothing else worked and, at this point, they were all they had. So Michael didn’t cry. He held her close and stroked her hair and promised her that they would figure it out. They had this.

Michael held her as she cried and he held her when she slept. He held her when she profusely apologized for being so dramatic and he held her for a little while longer after that. They didn’t really budge for at least 24 hours. It was the most either of them had slept in months.

“Have you thought about what you want to do?” Michael asked her at some point the following night. It was so dark he couldn’t see her face, but he could feel her breathing against his shoulder.

“I’m weighing my options,” Liz admitted, her voice softer than it had ever been before. “On one hand, this is the actual worst time to have a baby. On the other hand, it… it’s Max’s. It’s what I have of Max. It feels wrong to terminate given the circumstances. And, and I know he’d be so, so angry when he woke up.”

“Yeah, he probably would be,” Micahel agreed. He tried to steer away from politics when it came to Max, but he could assume the way he felt about that.

“But then I remembered it’s my fucking body,” Liz said in a way that sounded a lot more Liz than she had since she came to him the night prior. He smiled.

“Also very true.”

“And then I’m left with the thought that I have no idea what the difference between a human embryo and an alien embryo looks like. What if it’s noticeably different? What if I go to get an abortion and they get freaked out and then I get turned into a science experiment?” Liz rambled quietly. He rubbed her arm and tried not to think about how terrifying that was. It would be scary at any point in time, but it was particularly scary when she was the only thing keeping him alive.

“We could get Kyle to do an ultrasound,” Michael suggested, “See if the difference is. And you’re, what, eight weeks along? You have a little bit of time to decide.”

“Yeah,” Liz sighed, nodding her head, “I just know I can’t give it up for adoption. I can’t put another child who might have powers, might not, into a situation like that.” Michael didn’t say ‘thank you’ but he thought about it.

“Whatever you do decide on, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Thank you, Mikey.”

Liz decided to go through with it three months after Max died.

Michael watched her like a hawk.

Kyle did what he could to watch her, but it was mostly Michael. His focus pretty quickly shifted from reviving Max to making sure Liz was okay. As she crossed over into her second trimester, things began to get a little more worrisome. While the baby looked like a normal fetus and seemed to be growing like one, it was affecting Liz worse than it should’ve.

Normal pregnancy cravings became something intolerable. She couldn’t ever figure out what she wanted so badly and Michael had it in the back of his head that maybe it was nothing she could find on Earth. For a week or two, she became really attracted to the smell of acetone and Michael almost had a heart attack. The cravings would bother her, distract her, and some days she would sit in the corner of the bunker and just cry her frustrations out. Neither of them got much done on those days.

Even then, that felt like the easy part. She would get dizzy multiple times a day and she would get sick even more than that. While they tried to convince themselves it was normal, there was still the fact that it never seemed to stop. Worst of all, it was paired with pains. Liz had originally compared them to period cramps, but they progressively got more and more vicious with time. Some days she couldn’t get out of bed. At some point, she was unable to get out of bed anymore at all.

Michael moved in with her at that stage of things. They got a tiny one-bedroom apartment and slept in the same bed. She would wake him when she needed him and he never minded. She was what he had left and she was ill. He was going to do what she needed.

Each day, she looked worse. She stopped gaining any weight once she hit her third trimester, rather appearing to almost lose it instead. Her face was pale and she would sweat all day and night, consumed with hot flashes that left her a shaking and sweating mess. She was weak and she was in pain and she was hardly even Liz anymore.

“We need to do something,” Michael said, his voice leaving no room for argument. Kyle was coming by to do his weekly checkup and even he was struggling to hide his worry on how bad she was doing. “This isn’t okay, this is going to kill her.”

When Kyle didn’t deny that, it made things ungodly worse.

“What is making her sick, Kyle? What do we need to do?” Michael demanded, “Is the baby even still alive? Is it, like, infecting her or something?”

“Michael, I don’t know what-”

“Well, you need to know!” he snapped, “Liz needs to survive. You’re going to figure out what is happening and if you can’t, then I’m risking bringing her to an actual fucking doctor.”

He went back into the room to find Liz already asleep, her face almost as white as the sheets. It made him feel sick. He crawled up behind her and pulled her hair away from her neck and face, balling it up at the top of her head. He laid with her and tried his best to will her survival into existence.

At this point in time, he had decided he didn’t need anyone but Liz to survive. She was the only one that wasn’t going to leave and he wasn’t going to leave her. And that meant making sure she was okay.

Kyle returned a few days later and said a C-section was the best option.

Ileana Paloma Rosa Ortecho-Evans was born seven and a half months after Max died.

She was tiny.

Michael didn’t really know how to process just how tiny she was. She was the perfect size to fit in his palms and that’s all that was needed. He felt almost unworthy to hold her. Yet, he was the first one outside of Kyle who was allowed to.

He had looked her over extensively and, somehow, she was fine. He’d explained that usually babies born that early had issues breathing at the least, especially when they were that small, but she seemed to be fine. Because they didn’t want any other doctor or nurse looking at her too hard just in case, he gave Michael the assignment to watch her and alert him if he noticed any issues at all. He took it like it was the most important job in the world. And, honestly, it was.

She fit in the crook of his arm perfectly‒it helped that she wasn’t even the length of his forearm. He moved slowly back into the hospital room where Liz was still sound asleep. Already, she looked better. Color was coming back to her cheeks. Arturto sat beside her.

“I bet she’s excited to go back to work once she heals,” Artutro said. He didn’t ask to see the baby and Michael wondered if it was because he was just so focused on making sure his baby was alright.

“Yeah,” Michael confirmed, “She is.”

“And you’re going to help her?” he asked.

“Absolutely,” Michael said without hesitation, gulping softly as the baby in his arm wrapped her hand around his finger. She held on tight. “I’m not going anywhere, I swear.” He wasn’t like everyone else.

Arturo nodded and kissed the back of Liz’ hand. “Thank you.”

When Liz woke up and got the first glimpse at her daughter, they both smiled for the first time in a long time. She was still weak from her surgery, but she managed to sit up a little and he sat beside her as she held her baby. It looked right.

“She’s so little,” Liz gushed, sniffling as tears brimmed her eyes. It didn’t even phase Michael anymore. He’d seen her cry so many times now that it was almost just apart of things.

“I know,” Michael said, smiling over her shoulder at Iliana. Her head was a little big and her eyes were even bigger and her skin wasn’t exactly a pleasing color, but, fuck, she was theirs. He couldn’t call her cute, but it took no time to fall in love with her.

Liz leaned into him and relaxed, breathing slow and steady. They both just stared at her for awhile. She was hard not to look at. All Liz’s suffering had ended in a person. It seemed unreal. Well, then again, everything in the last few months had seemed unreal.

“I wish Max was here,” Liz whispered to him a little bit later. Michael chewed on his lip.

“I know,” he said. What he didn’t say was ‘I do too’ or ‘I wish Alex was here’ or ‘I wonder if Isobel would want to meet her niece’ or ‘do you think Maria knows you had a baby?’ because none of those felt like comforting statements. They weren’t comforting statements. They were the ones he thought about non-stop though.

His body ached for the people he’d lost, but he hoped one day he wouldn’t care anymore.

Days passed, though, and things just went back to the way they were. Well, not really. They had a baby now. Iliana slept in a bassinet less than a foot away from Liz’s side of the bed, perfect reaching distance for her even on the nights that Michael was on baby duty.

Occasionally, Michael would lay in bed and wonder if he was doing the right thing. That dark little voice in his head said that he was too happy on some days and that he had forgotten about Max and that he had merely stepped into his shoes. However, then he’d look over to Liz’s determined face and he’d feel like he was going to be alright. Liz was his lifeline.

And, with time, Liz got back to her old self. She was walking around and holding conversations and outsmarting him. It felt like she’d finally come home and he couldn’t have been more thankful. Kyle slowly began to withdraw again once he was no longer needed, but it was alright. They had each other and a baby to focus on.

They were too busy with working and adjusting to parenthood that they couldn’t focus on reviving Max, but, somehow, they were remembering how to be happy.

“Ay dios mio, Mikey, look at that face, she is mean-mugging you,” Liz said as she held the month old baby while Michael shook up her bottle. He laughed at the little glare on her face that seemed to resemble the Ortecho sisters more and more each day, pressing a kiss to her head before handing Liz the bottle.

“You’re going back to work tomorrow,” he pointed out, watching her features morph into a broad smile, “You excited?”

“Listen, I love this, I love her, and I love spending all my time with you,” Liz promised, following it up with a sigh, “But I am so ready. Even if it is just imaging at the hospital, I’m here for it. I need something to do. Also I’m tired of living off a mechanics salary, no offense.”

Michael snorted, “None taken.”

“And you,” Liz prodded, kicking him lightly, “How are you?”

“I’m good.”

“Are you?” she asked, eyeing him, “Have you talked to Alex or Isobel recently?” Liz knew everything, every last detail about basically everything that had ever happened. She knew how he felt about Alex and she knew how badly he missed Isobel. However, she also told him he shouldn’t have taken a step away from Alex whenever he felt like he was crashing. She’d told him that was what scared her about her feelings for Max, but it turns out all she needed to do was to give in.

And Michael really was ready to give in.

“Nah, but it’s okay, they made their choice,” Michael said, brushing it off. He wasn’t angry at Alex‒Alex had left for a good cause and his lack of keeping in touch made sense. He was, however, unimaginably pissed at Isobel for dropping off the face of the earth.

“Okay,” Liz said, “You know you can vent to me if you need to.”

“I know, Lizzie.”

She smiled and scrunched up her nose adorably at him.

They went to bed shockingly early that night. Iliana went down at 8 and they were dead asleep before the clock hit 8:30. Michael had taken off the following day so that Liz could enjoy her first day at work without stressing which meant he was also on baby duty, so it meant he couldn’t bring himself to regret going to bed so early.

However, he still had to be kicked awake when Iliana woke up a few minutes shy of midnight.

“Mikey,” Liz groaned, kicking him not too unlike a child, “Your turn.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he breathed, dragging himself out of bed and going to pick up Iliana and take her into the living room to get her a bottle.

He shushed her softly as he held her to his bare chest with one hand, rubbing his eye with the other one. He flicked the lightswitch on and that seemed to assure her even more that she was going to be fed and she slowly quieted down more. He used his telekinesis to make her bottle which Liz had been vocally jealous of even if he used it to help her all the time.

“You know, you’re really lucky you have Uncle Mikey instead of your daddy on nights like this,” Michael said between a yawn, “‘Cause he used to lose it when I woke him up. Now, he’d probably be a whole lot nicer to you, but I’m just saying.”

He’d barely finished making her bottle whenever there was a knock on the door.

He furrowed his eyebrows and looked at the clock, seeing it glaring a bright green 12:04 on it. There was actually no reason for anyone to be at their door this last. Michael did his best to keep his heartbeat still as he walked towards the door and looked through the peephole.

Alex returned to Roswell nine months after Max died.

Michael felt like he was hallucinating.

He opened the door carefully, regulating his breathing and trying not to jump to conclusions about what exactly was happening. Still, when the door was open, it was really Alex. His hair was longer and he was dressed in a way that screamed Alex. He had a nose ring again‒this time it was a stud on the side rather than septum, but still. He looked phenomenal. It took everything in him not to attack him in kisses.

“Hi,” Michael said softly. It took him a few seconds to realize that Alex’s eyes were trained on the baby he was feeding and then it took a couple seconds more to put together that he was probably jumping to conclusions. He left Michael when he was a mess and he returned to see him shirtless with a baby.

“Should I g‒”

“She’s Liz’s,” Micahel clarified. Alex’s eyes got impossibly wide.

“You and Liz‒”

“No! No,” he laughed, his hands shaking enough to get milk on Iliana’s cheek, “Max.”

Alex’s eyes formed sad realization and nodded. Then they just stared at each other for a minute. This didn’t feel real. Michael had been adjusting to a life with no one except for Liz and Iliana and it was weird to welcome someone home. But, god, it felt good to see Alex.

“Come in,” Michael said after a moment. Alex smiled and walked in, looking around.

“When Kyle said you got an apartment, I was impressed,” Alex said, “But now that I see you’re just staying with Liz it makes more sense.”

“Well, we live together, like, permanently,” Michael explained, sitting on the couch and adjusting the bottle in Iliana’s mouth.

“Oh?” Alex asked, sitting on the other side. Michael nodded and then gestured towards the baby. “Is she showing any signs of getting alien abilities or anything?”

“Not yet,” Michael said, eyes drifting off of Alex and down to the baby in his arms. She was still so small. “But Liz had a really horrible pregnancy and I think it was because she’s not completely human. I was reading, like, a ton of research on pregnancies and stuff and I think that her body was registering the baby as, like, a parasite and was sending antibodies to try and kill it which, then, made Liz extremely sick. We don’t know for sure or anything, but that’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“Fuck, that’s horrible,” Alex said, “She’s okay now though, right?”

“Yeah,” Michael confirmed, looking up to him with a smile, “She’s asleep though. She goes back to work tomorrow, though. Hope everyone’s ready for Iliana spending a whole lot more time with Papi Arturo.”

“Oh, I didn’t even think about that, how did he take everything with Max?” Alex asked, voice hushed. Everyone in Roswell was under the assumption that Max had just up and left. Arturo wasn’t any different.

“Fine, not like Liz really gave him an option to feel any other way. She basically just went up to him and was like ‘I’m pregnant and I’m keeping it and that’s all I have to say on the matter’. He hasn’t mentioned Max.”

“Man, it’s gonna real suck for him if you guys bring him back,” Alex laughed.

Things fell silent again as they just stared. It only broke when Michael propped Iliana on his shoulder to burp her and Alex seemed to remember he had other stuff to talk about. There was a million things to talk about. Michael didn’t even know where to start.

“So, uh, how is everyone? Isobel, Maria, Kyle, I guess,” Alex laughed. Michael couldn’t even manage a smile.

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly, “Isobel left not long after you and hasn’t kept in touch, Maria cut everyone off, and Kyle is just off being Kyle, I guess. It’s basically just been me and Liz.”

Alex frowned, “I didn’t know that.”

“You missed a lot,” Michael said softly.

“I missed you,” Alex blurted out and Michael couldn’t take his eyes away, “Seriously, I missed you so much it hurt. I didn’t know I could ever miss you as much as I did when I was at literal war, but, fuck, I did. If you weren’t holding a baby right now, I would probably kiss you until I couldn’t breathe.” Michael smiled wildly, his cheeks heating up and his heart thudding. It was the best thing he’d ever fucking heard. “Sorry if that was too straight forward, but I’m so tired of wasting time. I miss you.”

“I missed you too,” Michael agreed, suddenly extremely eager to go put Iliana back to bed and make Liz take over, “But you probably shouldn’t make me want to put the baby down. She doesn’t really accept not being held until she’s asleep.”

Alex chuckled, “You guys don’t just let her cry?”

“Fuck no,” Michael said, “I don’t want her to ever think we’re not there.” Alex nodded with the same big smile.

“What’s her name?” he asked, leaning closer to get a look at her, “God, she looks like Liz.” Michael could smell his cologne.

“Iliana,” he answered, nodding his agreement.

“That’s really pretty.”

“I know.”

“Can I hold you?” Alex asked her in a baby voice that Michael had never heard. It struck him to his core and he suddenly felt lightheaded. Michael slowly passed her into his arms.

Alex looked good with a baby. It was annoyingly attractive and Michael wondered if he even would’ve noticed that before Iliana was born. He didn’t remember ever finding someone’s maternal or paternal skills inherently attractive before, but seeing Alex rock her to sleep felt like the sexiest thing that had ever happened.

“Have you guys been working on bringing Max back?” he asked. Michael felt that attraction immediately bleed into guilt.

“Not recently. We’ve been just so focused on her.”

“That makes sense.”

Once she was asleep, Michael promised Alex that he’d be right back out. He placed Iliana on his side of the bed and created a pillow wall around her. He spared a look at Liz too and saw her out like a light. He wondered if she would be happy to see Alex in the morning. He hoped so.

When Michael came back out of the room, he found Alex only a few steps away. He looked serious and his face was illuminated by the bright kitchen lights. Michael hesitantly stepped closer.

“Are you home for good?” he asked. Alex touched him first, grabbing his arms and pulling him in close.

“Yes,” he said, “I’m home for good and I want us to work. I’ve missed you so fucking much, Michael. You don’t know.”

“We need to talk.”

“We will.”

Alex closed the space completely, kissing him like he was coming up for air. Michael kissed him back just as feverently, leading him back to the couch. He was reminded that, while he could survive with only Liz, he was never really living until he had Alex.

Maria listened to them ten months after Max died.

Liz and Michael had both gone to her bar before they opened and decided no wasn’t an answer. Except it made it a lot easier whenever Maria smile at the sight of them.

“Long time no see,” she mused. They both look at each other like they were waiting for the catch. “Look, I can’t hold a grudge that long. Well, I can, but it’s not healthy. I was just waiting for you guys to come see me. I gotta admit, I’m a little annoyed it’s taken so long but I’m glad to see you.”

“I know it’s not really an excuse, but I had a baby and I really lost track of time,” Liz said. Maria’s whole face transformed and she was on the other side of the bar in an instant.

“What? Oh my god, I didn’t know,” she gushed, hugging Liz. Liz folded into her the way Michael had seen her do with Alex a month prior. He always seemed to forget that they were basically inseparable at one point.

“Before you guys delve into the Iliana talk, I wanted to apologize,” Michael said. Maria looked over Liz’s head at him, still not letting go. “I should’ve been completely honest with you and I also should’ve told you what was going on with Liz. I couldn’t do anything about everyone else separating from us, but I could’ve reached out to you. I fucked up multiple times and I’m sorry.”

Maria breathed slow and steady and smiled. “You’re forgiven.”

“That easy?”

“Well, you both are going to have to pull, like, a lot of the friendship weight for a little bit just so I know you’re serious, but I think we’ll be able to get back to good.” Maria assured. Michael closed his eyes in relief.

And he smiled.

Isobel came back to Roswell eleven months after Max died.

“Hi.”

Michael just stared at her. He had never felt so much negativity towards Isobel in his life. Unlike with Alex and Maria, he didn’t feel that urge to hug her and ignore the problem. Because she was the problem. Michael had always gone out of his way to be there for her and, when they needed her, she was gone. He knew she had her own things to deal with, but she should’ve come to him. They could’ve healed together. Instead she was a new level of selfish.

“How did you get my address?” Michael asked. Isobel flinched at his tone.

“Michael, I‒” She paused for a moment and then sighed. “I got it from Alex.”

Michael turned up his nose. He was going to have to talk to Alex about that. It’d been two months of being back together and they were doing good, but clearly he didn’t know when to keep his address a secret.

“What do you want?”

“To apologize,” she said, “I shouldn’t have left.”

“Damn right you shouldn’t have left,” he spat, “We needed you.”

“I know and I’m sorry! I just… I needed to escape,” she said. Michael scoffed, shaking his head. Like clockwork, Iliana started crying and left Michael having to deal with his sister wondering why there was a baby crying.

“None of your business,” he said, closing the door a little bit so she couldn’t investigate, “You didn’t want anything to do with me or anyone else, so it’s none of your business.”

“Michael, I told you I was going to come back, I just needed some time,” Isobel sighed, “You don’t know what I was going through.”

“Yeah, and you didn’t even give me a chance to try. I have always been there for you, Isobel, and you just treated me like shit. I didn’t deserve that from you,” Michael said erestly, shifting from foot to foot as he tried to tune out Iliana’s crying. He hated that sound. He just wanted to hold her all the time so she never cried. But he also didn’t want to give Isobel the gift of seeing her.

“No, you didn’t and I’m sorry. I will be paying that price for the rest of my life,” she said sternly. He almost believed her. “Why is there a baby crying? Did you get Maria pregnant?”

“None of your business.”

“Michael, please. Will you just give me a chance to make it up to you?” she begged. He huffed a laugh.

“Yeah, I might’ve if you would’ve come home after a couple of days. You’ve been gone almost an entire year. Fuck that. I don’t need this.”

“Michael! Listen to me,” Isobel said, tears in her eyes as she put her hand on the door. For a moment, she looked like his sister and not the girl who abandoned him. “I think I know how to bring Max back.”

He froze.

“I have spent the last year trying to get stronger and I have. I think I know how we can do this,” she said and his stomach turned. He wanted to turn her away, to tell her no, to say he didn’t need her help.

But the fact of the matter was there was a baby in the next room who might have a chance to know her father if Isobel was being honest.

“I’m listening.”

The next month was full of trying to work with Isobel and not scream about how angry he was. Alex helped. Every time he felt like he was going to explode, he would soothe him. Liz was the best at it though. She also wasn’t too happy with Isobel, but she had mastered the art of being completely passive aggressive and bitchy while also accepting help. It was fun to watch.

However, Isobel really did have a point. She had honed her powers in a way that even Michael hadn’t. She could do all sorts of stuff and she didn’t struggle too much. She helped Michael got to the point he could heal. And, one day, he actually hugged her goodbye.

“Are you gonna forgive her?” Liz asked as they climbed into bed that night. Michael sighed and shrugged.

“I don’t know,” he admitted honestly, “It feels like she’s really trying and it seems like she put her time away to good use, I just… There’s no reason why she couldn’t keep in touch.”

“I know, Mikey,” Liz said, patting his chest, “I support whatever decision you make.”

Michael stared at the ceiling for a long while, weighing all of the options that he had. It’d been one hell of a year and he was eager for a break, but it still seemed like there was major fuckery in the future. It didn’t seem like anything would ever end.

“Liz?” he asked in the darkness. He didn’t really expect an answer, but he got one anyway.

“Yeah?”

“If we do figure out how to bring Max back, what does that mean for us?” It wasn’t a secret that, if they were successful, there was no way they’d be able to continue on like they had been. They’d shared a bed for seven months now. Even now that Alex was home, Michael spent at least six nights a week in bed with Liz and Iliana. That wasn’t an option once Max was home. None of this was an option once Max came home.

That made him feel empty.

“I don’t know,” Liz replied honestly, scooting a little closer. She put her head on his arm and he just pulled her in all the way.

“I know she’s not my baby,” Michael whispered, “But I don’t want to go back to not taking care of her everyday. I don’t want to go back to not seeing you every day.”

Liz was quiet for a moment, her long eyelashes brushing against his shoulder each time she blinked.

“Maybe we can get like a three bedroom house,” Liz suggested softly, “One for me and Max, one for Illy, one for you and Alex. That could work, right?”

Michael huffed at the idea. “It’d have to be a big house to get either of them to agree.”

“True, but four paychecks‒we could do it.”

Michael sighed and nodded. He hoped they could do it.

And that hope extended to something greater whenever they stepped into the cave during the thunderstorm. Both Michael and Isobel were vibrating with a power-strengthening serum Liz had managed to concoct and they were about to try their hardest to get shit back to normal. Or, at least, normal for Roswell.

Alex kissed him good luck and Isobel gave a reassuring look. He decided he would give it a shot, even if they failed. He looked up to Liz last and saw her give him the biggest smile in the world. She believed in him. If no one else did, she did.

That seemed like the most important thing he’d ever had.

A year after Max Evans died, he took his first breath of life again.

#michael & liz #michael & liz fic #malex #malex fic #echo #echo fic #roswell new mexico #roswell new mexico fic #rnm #rnm fic #michael guerin #michael guerin fic #alex manes #alex manes fic #liz ortecho #liz ortecho fic

[justformyself2]

San Francisco (Part Two)

Click here for Part One.

Hi, guys. It has been long, but it is finally here. I’m pretty happy to be posting this one and I hope you feel happy reading it.  

There is going to be a part three, so stick around in case you like this one.

I have other stories if you want to check those out (i have to make a masterlist, but it easy to find them)

If you have a request or just want to chat send me an ask.

special tag @lullabieswrappedinlies

if you want to be tagged, let me know.

Before you jump in, be advised:

. There is some cursing words, some f-bombs.

. Consumption of alcohol.

                                                cccccccccc

"Morning guys." Dex greets enthusiastically, before bowing down to place a kiss on his bride-to-be's cheek.

You are staring too much, but you can't miss the view.

The gift of ignorance was a delicacy underappreciated, at least while it lasts. It would make you eternally grateful if Rachel could keep everything to herself till ten years later. She will be sitting at her fancy dinner table, arrived from France, laughing too much because of that one bottle of old wine, from another place in Europe, maybe from Spain, she won't remember quite well. Then after recovering from laughing, putting the last sip of wine on her glass, she will tell him the story. With a sad, mildly drunk expression, Dexter would stop laughing.

"Morning." You respond.

She smiles at him and goes back to reading the newspaper.

Rachel was good at this, controlled, on the surface, as a lawyer should be. It brings a mixture of fear and thankfulness, that hid underneath itself another problem that walked into the kitchen.

"Hey, just so you know, Claire is coming today, she just called." Her mouth moves and her eyes don't lookup.

Dex sighs and you get up with the last spoon of cereal still laying on your tongue. You take the bowl and go towards the sink, planning to stay a long time with your back turned. 

"Morning everybody." 

It was visible the tiredness in his voice, tone low and deep, while you washed the white ceramic bowl in auto mode.

"Morning." Dex and Rachel responded together, laughing afterward. 

"That's cute." 

A chair's screech filled the room before a previous subject arose again. 

"So, she is really coming?"

Dex sounded worried.

"What, who is coming?" Now Ethan was worried too.

But why would he be worried about who was coming when he will be leaving tonight?

"Claire," Rachel says neutrally as before.

You place the bowl and the spoon carefully on the dish rack and spin back, spotting Ethan for the first time in the morning since you woke up to an empty bed. 

He stares from the not very long distance, with no longevity, because you cut it right away going towards the door, a way out to the porch, out to where random people were laying in the sand. 

Harsh winds of the morning shaping up weaves. You have to pay attention to that, to anything at all other than your head. 

You sit at the wooden bench, that didn't quite match the rest of the design on the porch next to a luxurious white couch, a unique setting for a suffering old seat that didn't belong. The best guess, could it be someone's favorite? Why wouldn't they throw it away when they thought about putting a much better couch beside it? Why did it remind you of the ones in San Francisco? 

"What the fuck am I thinking?"

"Am I interrupting something?"

Dex leans over, and your heart skips a beat from his sudden appearance.

He was observing. God knows for how long.

"No, I'm just thinking out loud, like a normal person."

He laughs, while you tried to shake the uncomfortable off, and takes a seat next to you. 

The next thing was silence, what you observed to happen a lot when Dex would talk to anyone other than Rachel, something normal considering you two barely knew each other, but still. Dex was the type to slip under radar if it wasn't for his looks. He was quiet, polite, unlike the stereotypes set for someone on his position, he possessed some of the same traits Rachel had, good traits, that combined make them good people if you could only erase all the cheating behavior Ethan mentioned. 

Now you see why his ex-fiancé wouldn't suspect them at all. 

Yet, it was none of your business, and the only thing that kept you involved in this world was the one that wasn't sitting on this bench with you.

"It is a good view right?"

Dex asks, and it is clear that making small talk wasn't his thing, and you were on the same level right now. Smiles appear to compensate.

"Yes, it is amazing."

You breathe in, deep. It could be some type of nervous vibe easy to detect, hovering, or you were projecting. 

"So, you and Ethan... You guys look good together."

"Oh, you think so?" 

Your mouth open's in surprise, genuine surprise. 

Before advancing to a judgment that could compromise, you try to relax and answer as naturally as possible.

"Yeah, I thought he was... Nevermind-." Dex interrupts the took, shaking his head and looking down at his feet.

"Gay?" You completed with confidence, spotting a mix of surprise and discomfort in the way he smiled back.

"Yeah. To be fair, Ethan gives the vibe sometimes." You continued, knowing that Dex was probably confused, reminiscing Ethan's lie about being gay so Claire would leave him alone, and the fool never cleared it out before moving to London.

Something bumps into the door, somewhat aggressively, and the first thing you recognized was the hand.

"What are you guys gossiping about out here?"

Ethan comes out to the porch, exchanging looks towards you and Dex, taking the space left between the two of you. 

"I was just saying to (y/n) that I think you two make a great couple." 

"Oh, you think so?"

Ethan responds, reclining his back against the bench and puts an arm around your neck. It is all that it takes to remind you why you escaped to the porch in the first place.

"And we were also talking about your gay vibes, babe."

"What?" He looks at you, confused.

"Yeah, like when you said you were gay to drive Claire away, like the mastermind player that you are. That is like, his thing Dex. He loves doing stuff like that-."

You incline forward to look at Dex, but Ethan blocks the view. His arm traps your body next to his chest, and you were obliged to stand up with him.

"Okay, babe. Do you want to take a walk on the beach? Hun? Dex, catch you later, bud." You don't resist since that at some point it all had to be addressed.

Ethan loosens the grip while you both were walking down the four steps. His hand travels down your arm slowly, and before you could cross them, he beats you by the timing and takes your hand. 

You wait for a fair distance before taking your hand back.

"What was all that?" 

Ethan asks. The audacity of the annoyed tone he used makes you start to walk faster in front of him.

"Does it matter? we are leaving tonight, right?"

"No, we're not leaving."

You stopped and turned around. Ethan faces you with both hands on his hips. You waited for some confirmation that he was messing with you.

"Ethan."

"Look, I talked to Rachel this morning, I apologized, and she decided to forget all it. It is going to be weird if I suddenly left. I'm her best friend."

"Oh, so that's why you left me this morning? To go talk to Rachel."

"I'm only trying to fix this, find an answer to make this right."

You complete the steps that separated both of you, being centimeters away from his face and the way he observed you.

"Look. Do what you want to do, every crazy pathetic thing you want, to get a woman that doesn't want you but don't use me and leave me like I'm nothing because I'm not your rebound anymore, Ethan."

You breathe in, feeling your chest rise and the beats of your heart multiply by the second. Suddenly there wasn't control over thoughts or words. Everything wanted to break loose.

"Are you even listening to yourself right now? 'I'm her best friend.' You mocked. " Stop using this bullshit to excuse what you are thinking. The answer is Dex, Rachel is not choosing you. She never did, not then and not now. You should do yourself a favor and get the fucking hint already Ethan."

You wanted to explode, wanted to scream. It wasn't the first time this same conversation took place between both of you, and yet, you were waiting for a different outcome that never happened before. It was useless. You saw it in his eyes. You saw it in the way he walked right past you and didn't look back.

                                             (Ethan POV.)

There is something worse about positive emotions. Something buried underneath, and It's ugly, blinds you, makes you live in denial for a very long time, till it turns the question 'What the fuck am I doing?', into a daily mantra from a bad religion.

I asked this more times than it is possible to count. I asked a thousand times while I was doing my bags, and another thousand while I was on the plane watching (y/n) asleep. I asked it again for a couple more thousand times when I saw Rachel, and since then it has been a background sound for my thoughts, the usual ones she belonged. 

Her face. Her laugh, ever-living memories, that insisted themselves on my central vision like jumping ghosts, obliging me to keep feeding my brain with any distraction. Sinking myself with work till numbness almost did the thing, but the closest I came to the remedy was (y/n).

That one night, I went out to the bar on my block, not feeling like me anymore after diagnosing myself with derealization through a quick search on google. The impression of furniture moving convinced me to run away from the claustrophobic place that became that apartment.   

It all happened at some time past one in the morning, at the right time and place to meet someone like her, someone very different from me. I guess, just what I need it. 

The crisp vision of things gives you a perspective, but she never centered around only one thing. (Y/N) was always in movement while I was still ruminating about Rachel and what I couldn't let go. 

When the post-coital conversation started flowing, after weeks of our same scheme passed by, I realized that not everything was cold with (y/n), only the way she perceived love. The way she rolled her eyes when I talked about it, but not the way she makes it, which can make one confused at first and be careful at least.

I  had reasons to strongly believed in my immunity because I knew I was still in love with Rachel. That was what my brain reminded me on the daily, being in love with an unavailable person was becoming a personality trait instead of a problem to be dealt with it, and it was that I accepted. Only at San Francisco, when I made no attempts to contact Rachel, I realized too late that I had mixed the medicine with alcohol, and now they had the same effect.

All of the past mess, mixing with the habit of sweeping things under the rug, made me start thinking about ending everything. Still, a burden compounded with a miracle came when we got back from San Francisco, and we discovered to be new working partners. The universe seemed to have done everything for me, except providing the answer I was still looking for when Rachel's wedding invitation arrived. I was about to mix the medicine with alcohol all over again. 

When they hugged at the airport, my stomach ran laps. 'What the fuck am I doing?'. The mantra comes back again. 

"Can I take your order, sir?"

A redhead girl, holding a notepad, appeared next to the table I occupied. Her Blythe doll eyes blinking at me.

How long was she there while I rewind all the past regrets only God knows.

"Sorry. I'm... I'm waiting for someone before ordering."

I simulate my way out of the situation with a smile. My wallet was at home, and it was a good thing because it was too early to drink something distilled.

"Oh, okay. I'll just leave the menu here." 

She left two menus over the white cloth before leaving with a condescending smile.

I decided to spare some time. I faked looking at my clock and looking around at random times as if I waited for someone very tardy before I left the table. The Blythe doll eyes must be cursing me, and I deserve it. 

 The sun outside, hitting my eyes was already alarming hot, or London made me a stranger to the feeling of warmth. I look behind me, but there is only the bridge, and random people passing by.

It felt familiar to the place where Rachel and I spend time together, but like everything else after a while became a blur under what happened that night. 

I can replay it quickly while continuing to walk with no destination.

It happened when Rachel smiled and ordered a Heineken. I was explaining the order to myself, controlling my eyes and planing my words, usually with gastric reflux would be burning the walls of my stomach, but now the house was quiet. 

I was alone with her, after years, after long years and miserable scenarios played inside my head, and now there was total silence, the silence of death.

"What?"

Rachel asked, still smiling, brightly, I loved that fucking smile, I loved.

I loved.

"We need to talk."

#john krasinski #fanfiction #fanfic #story #imagine #john krasinski imagine #something borrowed #interative imagine #interative #imagination #original #i hope i didnt wrote something wrong #lol #mine #god i'm hungry #i hope you enjoy

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

hope you have an amazing vacation!!! since you are looking for writing prompts, id like to request some sort of dean whump with cas coming to the rescue maybe? thanks!!!!

Thanks for the prompt, anon! Thank you, and I kinda extended the prompt to a little bit of season 14 canon - but I hope it’s to your liking! Here goes:

*

Dean could hear it, even though his right ear was bleeding and everything sounded muffled and distant to him. The crackling in the air, the scream of those demons. Cas was here.

His head throbbed, and every inch of his body ached - his face caked in dried blood and his throat parched. He struggled to keep himself conscious, blinking rapidly to stay in his senses - he’d been prepared to tell his brain to stop - for the last time maybe, to avoid the pain - but he forced himself past the desire to drift into a darker, maybe unfeeling world - making himself focus on the tingling at the back of his neck - his instincts screamed, Cas had to be around.

There came a dying shriek closer than the others, followed by heaving footsteps of perhaps some demons coming his way to secure their victim before they run away. Except it wasn’t them - no wild, ferocious creatures but the angel Dean had feared wouldn’t hear him this time.

“Hnrghh!” Dean groaned, trying to make his presence known. He was trapped under a crumbled wall, or he could have dragged himself out into the clearing where Cas could see him. He wriggled, but stayed stuck, and tried to ready himself to utter a sound again. “Cas!” Came out, garbled yet comprehensible.

“Dean!” A familiar voice yelled back, keen and concerned. “Are you in here!?”

“Y-yeah,” Dean mustered up all of his courage to let out, and it was coherent enough to be identified, and before Dean knew it, Cas was right next to him - wide, blue eyes staring at him while his hands hovered around Dean’s person methodically, checking his wounds. In a matter of moments, the crushing weight which must’ve at least cracked a few bones in his legs, was lifted - and Cas held two fingers to his forehead, his frown deepening.

“Hey,” Dean choked. “Don’t waste your mojo on me,” He heaved, and Cas narrowed his eyes, listening to him speak. “Go kill those sons of bitches, we can deal with me later.”

“No.” Cas outright declared, his eyes glaring at him furiously and Dean flinched for a moment, as Cas’s grace seemed to pulse through his veins. “I’d rather be a fraction lacking in my grace and have you fighting them off with me, than to be fully powered.” While you lie here useless, Dean heard in the heavy silence.

He felt Cas’s grace reach out against his soul, and closed his own eyes as a familiar yet bewildering sensation of light filled his being. Then, in a beat, he was fine. Vastly better, if not ready to take on a room full of demons. 

He breathed heavily, trying to make use of his healed lungs to get as much oxygen as possible. “Cas,” He croaked, and then cleared his throat. “Tha -”

Cas was away from him before he could finish his sentence. “The demons.” He remembered, sparing one last glance at the hunter, as if to say, follow me when you can - and began to stride towards the entrance again.

There was a lot of stumbling, and minutes of standing still - before Dean was fully tuned in with his surroundings again, and a yelp from Cas set the adrenaline going. Did he get hurt too? He sprinted out, the best he could, towards the place where the fight was going down, his knife prepared to slash through any demon daring to come in front of him.

But he stopped short, seeing that Cas was the only man - Angel - standing anymore.

The demons lay pale and scattered, with battered heads, hollow sockets and blood on their faces - either dead, or sufficiently unconscious. Cas stood in the middle of the room, heaving, and looking at Dean instantly as he entered.

“I was gonna join you.” Dean muttered, as an attempt at a joke. “Ruined the fun, Cas.”

“They came at me.” Cas bristled, accusatorily staring at the bodies across the room. “I didn’t forget about you, but I defended on instinct.”

“Some defense that is, Smitey McSmiterson.” Dean raised his eyebrows.

Cas rolled his eyes, and began walking towards Cas. “Come on, Dean. Sam doesn’t know I’m here - or that you called me - we should get back.” And although Dean’s perfectly healed, at least technically, Cas tucked himself under his arm, letting Dean lean on him as if he were still limp - as they hobbled out of the setting towards the Impala. “Don’t even think about it,” Cas warned him, right before he could say it. “I’m driving, and you’re in the back. Stretch your legs.”

Dean looked at him frustratedly. “Stop treating me like I’m hurt, you already healed me.”

“Not as well as you needed to be.” Cas said, and Dean read between the lines. Not as well as I used to be able to.

He dodged, and made a joke instead. “Bet this is payback for me sticking you in the back all of these years, but you know what? You kinda saved my ass majorly today, so fine.”

Cas didn’t reply right away, but after they’ve settled in. He’d insisted that Dean put on the seatbelt and Dean had retorted that if he were to stretch his legs on the backseat as well as put on the seatbelt, he was gonna choke. They’d agreed on a compromise, and Dean had put his legs up on the seat, in return for not arguing with Cas when he drives careful and slow. Just don’t hurt my Baby, Dean teases, and Cas nodded. There was no music.

“I’m surprised, really.” Cas began to speak finally, as if finally tired of the silence. “No comments on the lines of you not needing me to show up’?” Dean 'pfft’ed, and Cas went on. “You didn’t even tell me how you were ‘totally going to kick their asses in another minute’ if I didn’t show up - as you never fail to point out.”

“Shut up,” Dean grumbled at him from behind, his hand on the seat, inches from Cas’s shoulder. “Don’t quote me to me, and make me sound like a jackass.”

Cas shrugged.

“And,” Dean didn’t mind the lack of denial from Cas, because he wasn’t expecting any. “I guess I didn’t say that because, uh, it wasn’t like that today.” Cas flinches, but doesn’t turn his head to face Dean yet, and he goes on. “I was well and truly doomed, buddy. Pretty much prepared to die, if my distress signal hadn’t got caught in your prayer hearing.”

“What did you just say?” All of the 'cool and calm’ exterior vanished in a single beat, as Cas swerved dangerously, and parked almost abruptly on the side of the road - his eyes large and demanding when he turned to look Dean in the eye. “Die? Did you just say you were prepared to die, Dean Winchester!?”

Dean blinked, taken aback at the aggression. “Dude, calm down -”

“You don’t understand!” His voice rose with every syllable, now fully facing him, and looking downright intimidating. “If it were anybody else there, you would’ve fought with all your might and main to get them out of there! No matter how trapped, and beaten up, Dean - say, if it were Sam or - or me there, you wouldn’t have given up so soon! How -” His nostrils flared, and he frowned like Dean had disappointed him. “How can you give up on yourself like that?”

“Damn it, Cas,” Dean muttered, wiping his face with a hand. “I wasn’t giving up on anyone! This wasn’t a goddamn therapy session - I didn’t want to die, I had no way to get out of there!”

Cas’s glare didn’t flinch. He instead turned around without saying a word, started the engine, and began to drive again.

Dean was desperate to get Cas speaking to him again. “Cas, please, let’s stop thinking about this! It was a one time occurrence - I don’t end up almost-dying alone in basements under a wall too often, to my credit - and neither do we have gold stars for consistency in dying!” Cas didn’t react. “Hell Cas, you’ve saved me a bunch of times.”

“Dean.” Cas’s voice was level, but it sounded like it took a helluva lot of dedication to keep it that way. “That’s the thing. I’m not strong enough.”

“That’s bullsh-”

“No. No, its not.” Cas declared, and he had to renew his pledge to not turn back to look at Dean, because it would surely make the conversation that much harder. He overtook a sedan, and went back in his lane, before he continued. “I wasn’t strong enough to heal you completely, without the risk of over-exerting myself too. I wasn’t strong enough to keep off the demons - yeah, Dean, I smited them, but I couldn’t take them in combat, that’s why I had to assume my trueform and blast them off.” His voice was quiet but his blood boiled. “So, it only makes sense that I’m not strong enough to lift you from perdition either.”

“Call it hell, buddy.” Dean let out, a terrible attempt at humor.

“Fine. But you know too, Dean, the first time damaged my wings permanently. Now, I can’t even fly. You think I’d be able to pull you up from hell in my current state? I’m not a hundredth of the being I used to be.” Cas’s voice was grave, and it pierced through Dean.

Another time, he tried hard to lighten the mood which had begun to feel suffocating for both the men in the car. The silence hung heavy, so Dean attempted to streamline through it with a mild line, “Well, Cas - and this is me being optimistic like Sammy drones on and on about - it’s possible I end up in heaven, right?”

“Nestled in your memories?” Cas threw back, not meaning to be as bitter as he knows he sounded. “So, your plan is to live on with those happy versions of your family, while we on Earth have to live on without you?” His voice was pained.

Dean withdrew. “No! I mean, angels have sway in heaven, right? You could pull me back - like you did Jack that time.”

“That’s a different thing.” Cas bristled. “And, no. Nobody is going to let me get you, Dean Winchester, back from heaven; because you were too careless in a hunt for your own well-being.” He paused. “I wouldn’t even be let in to meet you - though of course,” The irony smarted. “You’d have your version of all of us with you, but we’d have lost someone like you, before your time, to your lack of will to live.”

“You make it sound like I wandered into their lair unarmed, singing a Christmas carol and wearing an 'eat me’ placard.” Dean weakly laughed, not knowing what else to say.

Cas ignored that sarcasm, but he knew exactly what he wanted to say, though. You don’t get it, Dean. And I can’t tell you this, either. I’ve always been scared of you dying, because as a human, your lifespan is just so. But at least I had the option of dying alongside you. Now? I cannot even do that. Because without you, how will I ever be happy - and how will the Empty ever show up? If you die, Dean Winchester, it’ll mean that I have to live without you, forever.

But of course he couldn’t say that. That’d make everything worse.

So, in the mildest tone he could conjure - because this conversation was getting way more serious than either of them had wanted or were ready for - he said, “Listen, Dean. All I can say is -”

“- yeah, yeah, I know. Death is off the table, blah-blah.” Dean muttered.

“It sure is.” Cas even smiled, as much as he could. “And you’re aware we don’t have any more Worlds to save, or Apocalypses to prevent - so I can and will use all my time following you around on all your hunts - invisible, if I have to.” He added, jesting.

“I dunno how to break this to you,” Dean relaxed momentarily, and his smile was audible. “But you’ve got to work on your threats.”

“I don’t care if it sounds like an incentive,” Cas replied, simply. “I have been told that I have no regards for people’s personal space,” He paused, and half turned so that he could see Dean in the corner of his eye. He looked more at ease, and Castiel was grateful. “So I’ll make you -”

“Regret this day, for the rest of my life?” Dean suggested and Castiel smiled too. Even when he turned back to face the road fully, their eyes met often, just for those fleeting moments - until Dean fell asleep, and it was just Cas, stealing those precious glances at the exhausted hunter in the backseat - for as long as he had, at the very least - and thought of Dean, and of death, and of how selfish it was of him to wish for them to never meet. And how hard he’d try to not let it happen.

[herowy]

Dating Headcanon 3 + Scenario

Jenny

A total tsundere.

Most likely you would suggest going out in the first place.

Acts nonchalant with it but is actually really nervous.

She takes things slow in the relationship because she hasn't dated before and is just clueless about it.

Blushes a lot.

The type to want to hold your hand but is too shy to ask and will keep on debating over if she should. She misses the chance and is then pissed about it.

She's straightforward and blunt almost rude with people she doesn't care or relaxed with but with you, she is a complete mess and stuttering fool.

There are many times she wants to compliment you but is too shy and prideful to say them.

She would curse off people who are staring or making you feel uncomfortable, and if they brave enough to challenge her she'll get physical without a thought.

Gets into a lot fight in general and always have a few scratches and bruises on her.

She would be hesitant about dating at first because of all the violence and doesn't want to get you involved. The last thing she wants is you getting hurt. Of course, she'll never say that.

If you're really adamant on staying with her you'll have to really show it because then she'll just keep denying you and distancing herself.

If you do manage, swear on her life she'll keep you safe and as far from her brawls as possible. She might become more rational and actually think twice before getting into conflict to ensure your safety.

Your gonna have to be really patient with her since she doesn't express her emotions very well.

Hates overcrowded places, like really hates it, despises it.

Probably might see one of her enemies there or something.

She's not a romantic but does try and they usually end up failing.

Remembers the little things you like but acts like she doesn't care and tries to be very subtle with it.

If you unconsciously mention food or craving you want she'll pretend not to care but then a few minutes later or when your not looking she'll get it for you.

Not the type to initiate public affection and so you would have to make a move if you want any. Even then she'll try to avoid it but not because she hates it but because she's just really nervous and shy.

She's a private person so she prefers to be intimate when you two are alone.

The further the relationship develops she would start to show more affection and comfort but privately.

Baby steps like holding your hand, wrapping an arm around your waist and tiny compliments but all this while not looking at you.

She has a foul mouth but tried to lighten it with you. Tries.

There will be times when she's down in the dumps and will want to hold you close to her. These are the times where she's most vulnerable and needs you to be there.

Does get jealous quite easily and even over the little things but once you question her about it she will stutter out denial as quickly as possible.

Just sulks when she's jealous, depending on what or who she's jealous about it might get physical.

She prefers isolated places but if you really insist on going somewhere a little crowded then she'll follow grumpily.

Likes animals so probably the zoo or aquarium.

~~~

The night was as lively as ever, colourful streamers and small lanterns hunged and glowed vibrantly across the pathway. Stalls were situated at every corner emitting the smell of fried food and cotton candy.

The overflowing crowd continued to sway endlessly and voices overlapped one another with wild laughter and hollers.

If there was one thing she hated the most that would overcrowded places or loud and annoying bundles of people in one area. The grabble beneath them could barely be seen.

She gave out a low grunt while being dragged through the hoard by a delicate hand.

If it wasn't because of her lover and his doe-shaped eyes and honeyed voice begging her to come with him to a festival gathering, she would never, repeat, never come near this place.

"Come on jenn~ It'll be fun!." With his hands clasped together into a praying gesture.

" Ugh."

"Pleassseee Jenny." He closed the gap between them shouldering next to hers and giving the sweetest smile.

"There's nothing even fun out there. Just the same shit every year. Loud people and ball throwing crap." She grunted and stepped back slightly flustered at how close he was. She also didn't mention it being dangerous in the chances of passing by one of her enemies or them seeing her with him.

"No it's not. It will be fun if you actually give it a try. Come on, please. We've never gone to any festivals TOGETHER before. Besides, it'll make for a great date!"

"D date!?" Her face became red.

"Yeah, a date. Don't you want to?"

"…w well…it's not like…I don't w want to." She averted her eyes.

"…hmmm." He gawked at her inquisitively like he's searching for something.

"…"

"…"

"Ughh! Fine, let's go. Since your being so damn annoying and stop staring at me like that!" She blurted in defeat.

"Really!? Yay!!" He cheered.

Jenny grabbed her denim jacket and shoved it onto her self angrily. Damn him for being so cute!

And that's why they're now here.

Being dragged by the hands of her lover and making their way through the pathway as smooth as possible.

She could feel the excitement from how hastily he was hauling her.

A few seconds later she heard his voice saying something but it was blocked out by the screams of the crowd.

"What?"

"Lo…mm.."

She tsked. Next minute the hand attached on her arm was gone.

"Wah hey!"

Jenny called for his name and expected for him to reply but nothing…

She started to panic. Aggressively pushing through the hoard of people and cursing at them to move. She managed to squeeze into a more spacious area and searched for his figure. Turning back and forth and desperately roared for his name.

She was really worried now. What if he got hurt? What if she can't find him? What if…someone found him?

Her heart clawed at her chest in anxiousness and her body started to sweat at the acceleration

Trying to calm herself. She pulled out her phone and frantically pressing onto his contact number.

Ring…ring…ring…ring…ring…rin-

"Fuck! Why isn't he answering!? Fuck for fuck sakes!"

She was pissed. Very pissed.

Running through each row of stalls and pushing at people.

Where the fuck is he?!

She sprinted to the gates where the stalls ended and it was the ocean.

Dashed down the grabble steps and onto the beach where the ocean was.

The scratchy sounds from the grinding of sand against her red converse.

Running through the shore and making her way to the end of the beach which would seem absurd. The beach is more than 100 feet long. She didn't care though, she just wanted to find him.

Then she came to a halt midway. A familiar figure. She prayed to god it was him.

The figure turned around and with a shocked expression.

"Jenny!" He cried cheerfully.

"Ha ha ha��ha…" Panting out of exhaustion and the rapid pulse of her heartbeat.

"Thank goodness your finally here. I was worried that you wouldn't come here. I was gonna call-"

"Fuck sakes!"

"Huh?"

"What the fuck were you doing?!"

"Wh what are you talking about?"

"Why the fuck weren't you answering your fucking phone!?"

"Wah, my phone…oh, i-"

"Do you know how fucking worried I was!?"

"…"

He gaped and alarmed at her outburst. She was breathing heavily, sweat trailing from her forehead and her red hair sticking out everywhere. A complete mess.

"I was fucking running around for an hour trying to fucking find you! I called your phone and you didn't even fucking answer! Why the fuck even have a phone when you won't even fucking answer people's calls!?"

"…sorry…" His eyes fell down to his shoes and held a sad expression. It was like a child being scolded.

"Haaa…" She sighed and turned her face away from his.

A long moment of silence between them. The tension was thick and heavy.

"Jenny…im really sorry…I didn't mean to worry you. I got distracted by one of the stalls during the way. When I turned back…you were gone. It's my fault. I thought it was a good idea to wait here at the beach because it wasn't crowded and we can meet up together...but I didn't think…" He confessed with guilt in his voice and still not being able to look at her.

"Why didn't you answer my call?"

"I couldn't hear it during the crowd…"

She sighed again.

"I'm really sorry Jenny. I was planning on calling you though…" Biting his lips and felt a slight tremble, tears pricking at his eyes and slowly sliding down his soft cheeks.

Her eyes widened at the sight. His tears. He was crying. Her lover was crying. Jenny made her lover cry.

Her heart clawed at her again. Like before but it was more painful this time. It was piercing at her. Stabbing her through the front. Excruciatingly pain that made her hands welled into a fist and white.

"H hey…"

"…"

"Haaa look i-"

"…"

"I'm…sorry…"

"Huh?"

Jenny wanted to hold him. Embrace him entirely against her chest. Wipe those tears and protect him. Instead, she made him cry.

"I'm the one who should be sorry. I…I should have stayed closer with you and…I shouldn't have yelled at you either. Sorry."

"No no. It's clearly my fault, stupid of me to get so easily distracted and then get lost like that. I was stupid.

" Hey don't say shit like that! Your not…your not stupid. Look, it doesn't matter who's fault it is anymore. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that."

"…"

Witnessing the sadness in his expression and tears that held its place. Swallowing her pride. Jenny closed their distance and hugged his fragile-like body.

"Damn it. Hey, hey look at me."

He slowly looked up at her amber eyes.

She carefully wiped his tears with her thumb and then firmly held his waist and head against her own body.

He leaned in with comfort.

"I really am sorry Jenny." His voice slightly muffled against her shoulders.

"Stop apologising already."

"But i-"

She cuts him off by tilting his chin upwards and sealing his lips with hers. Her tongue caressing his. He was surprised at her boldness. She doesn't usually initiate the first kiss, especially in public.

A few seconds later they leaned back with a thread of saliva connecting their mouths. Panting for air. Staring at each other for god knows how long.

Jenny finally breaks out of the trance of his enchanting orbs and realises what was happening. An immediate rush of heat flooded her face and quickly lets go of him.

"Ahem…that uhh th that wa wasn't supposed to happen…" She coughed.

He frozed his gaze at her stuttering and then giggled.

"Hahaha."

"Huh?"

"Don't worry Jenny, I get it. Thank you for comforting me"

"Wah h hey! It's not what you t think! I just did that so…so you would stop your cr crying! I don't actually care for you…"

"You were worried about me crying that's why you did that, right? So, you do care for me!"

"No, I don't fucking care! You were just being annoying and an eyesore!

" But you hugged me, wiped my tears and even kissed me."

"Shut up I only did that because it was in the moment."

"Hmmm just say you love me already."

"Shut the fuck up. No I fucking don't!"

Jenny was fuming with redness and frustrated by his persistence. She really wanted to shut him up again and his teasing.

"Haha, I love you too Jenny." He flashed a sweet smile.

By God was that long. Since it was only Jenny I'm writing for I decided to make it into headcanon plus scenario.

Honestly, reading back at them I feel bad for my lack of attention towards Mimi and Emily. Compared to the others I didn't write as much. They were my first OCS to start off with and I'm really fond of them.

I'll give them more writing next time to even it out.

[fortune-failing]

Lonrek - there are London spoilers woah they’re censored though

(Session 59 - Night)

Zarek

Being back in Weiscan felt pretty nice compared to traveling in a cramped carriage. Zarek was outside the inn glancing the city streets, it felt like there was so much he could do on such a night. Instead he let out a yawn.

London

London had just returned from the library and was debating returning to his room until he saw Zarek. After a quick smile, he rushed over to meet him. "Hey, I don't usually see you out this late!" It's only 10 pm. "What are you up to?"

Zarek

Zarek grinned back and greeted him. "Yeah, I guess I am like 5 hours past my bedtime. I was just enjoying the view. What about you?"

London

"I just got back from the library. I saw Pawo there and he introduced me to some weird book series...." Saying that, London reached under his cape to bring out a book from his backpack. "'The Dwelf Honey Love Chronicles,' ever heard of it? He said you like to read." There was a snide grin.

Zarek

Zarek looked at the book with a mix of curiosity and confusion. "Romance novels aren't really my thing. I don't really read that much. So, are you enjoying your book?"

London

"Then you sure gave Pawo the wrong impression." He puts it back. "I haven't even started. I don't read a lot of novels. Spellbooks are way more fun. But I'll probably check this one out.... Since he insisted...." The fact it has a gay interracial couple has nothing to do with it at all. Definitely not. "By the way, this is a seriously random question....... But did you happen to notice if dragon's molt? Like how a chicken loses its feathers, I mean? I've been wondering about this for a while."

Zarek

"Did I? I mean I have passed by the library some of the times we've been in Weiscan but it is mostly because it's a really great chance..." Zarek put his hand on his chin trying to remember. "I have no idea... I don't stare at nicol that much. What even made you wonder that? Do you want me to bring you some scales or something?"

London

Great chance? London wonders what he means, but is soon distracted by something else the swordsman says. "Huh? Could you really bring me some scales?! I mean you really don't have to, but I was thinking of bringing them to someone."

Zarek

"Why the hell do you want his scales?"

London

That sounded more accusational than London was prepared for. He glances away. "I just thought it'd make a good souvenir for when I return home. My mother actually has a soft spot for dragons, but she's never been able to leave the city. So I wanted to bring her the next best thing."

Zarek

Zarek quickly smiled and put a hand on top of London's head. "That's a really nice thought... But we're playing with fire here. As much of an asshole as Nicol is I don't know if I can do that."

London

"It's fine. I'm sure I'll manage somehow." He smiled more getting the pat until he remembered his pride as Zarek's senior. London steps back with a stern and unreadable expression. "Ahem. I'm the older one here. Don't put your hand there. Anyway, there was something else I wanted to talk about, but I'll keep it in telepathy for your benefit."

Zarek

Zarek grinned. "Oh, are you taking the role of the wiser and older friend now?" He removed his hand. "Sure, what is it?"

London

"Wait, then what was my role before now?" He gets distracted but only momentarily. "Nevermind. More importantly. Last time I made the conversation all about me." You never told me how things went with Aneris!! Did you sneak off to a cave? Did you use my pickup line? Was it a home run?! He hits Zarek with a barrage of embarrassing questions.

Zarek

Zarek gets visibly flustered. "I...I thought you didn't want to hear details?" Then looks away in the direction of the streets. "L-let's go somewhere else."

London

"Well.. Not all of them..... But I also have a role to fill by being your not-so-wise and nosy friend, don't I?" He follows while snickering to himself a bit. I guess telepathy isn't secretive enough anymore?

Zarek

"I...guess you do." Well, telepathy is as secretive as it gets...as long as you keep your word. Aneris hates you more than enough now...

London

London sweats. R-right........ He wonders if he should argue the fact it might not be difficult to believe they were together, so others might be able to figure it out on their own, but then he decides that would just be a tangent and moves on. "So do you have any place in mind? It's a big city, so hopefully you won't get us lost."

Zarek

He looks around. "I'm sure you'll manage to find the inn after I get lost. That's what a reliable older friend would do." Zarek starts walking with no specific direction in mind. Well...it wasn't really a cave, I just found an alley with some lanterns lighting it...

London

"Hehe, yeah. It wouldn't be tough." He follows while listening. As Zarek says more about the confession setup, he listens even more intently. A-and the pickup line? It's a wonder how London even remembers that line after so long.

Zarek

Zarek looks away from London as he continues. Y-yeah I used it...as much as I remembered from it 'I was thinking when this is finally over, let's keep traveling and fighting together. Just the two of us?' Or something like that... I repeated myself a couple times though...

London

 Did you really have to repeat it? London wasn't sure why that would have been necessary but finds it amusing anyway. 

[...]

Zarek

Yeah...I had to repeat it a bunch of times, she was basically in denial about it... But it wasn't aggressive, it was...kind of cute. Zarek blushed a bit recalling the moment.

[...] 

You and Aneris hating each other won't keep me from seeing you every once in a while, I promise.

London

 Hehe, don't worry about it. You should spend more time with her. It really meant a lot hearing how important I was in your life, but if she's like Faelian, she's going to want to be ranked way higher than #3. I found that out the hard way. I told Faelian I liked someone, and he spent the next 30 minutes crying in secret. He sighs. Elves can be really difficult, huh? But I guess that's how they stay married for over 200 years. Lori and Vantas are something else.

Zarek

Zarek stays silent for a second. Or at least telepathy silent, since they were already walking without making many sounds. I...Well... He sighs. I don't think comparing her to Faelian is fair. But... I guess she really won't like being #3... But she'll hate knowing you are above more...probably. Zarek was obviously struggling in how to say this properly.

London

 You're worrying too much. London smiled and figured now was as good a time as any to stop walking and find a spot to rest. He stepped to an empty table in front of a quaint little book/item store. "How's this spot?" If you want to keep walking for the sake of us not looking weird sitting together in silence, then I can work with that, too. 

But just going by what I've seen in battles, it seems like she'd be willing to help you in any way if you asked, and after we all split up, you'll have no choice but to rely on her more than anyone. Don't sweat it. I'm sure it will turn out fine. But, uh, to be fair, I'm afraid I'm going to have to debunk you down to #2. Sorry man, but I already told his parents I'd take care of him and keep him from crying and stuff. But for now, I think it should still be okay to rely on me. At least for a little while. It's just something to consider. Afterwards, London cleared his throat. "On another subject, what sort of books do you like reading? I'm still wondering where Pawo got the idea from."

Zarek

Zarek takes a seat. "Yeah, this spot is pretty nice." We can sit in silence it's ok. I think saying help in anyway is going a bit too far, we haven't even dated for a week... I guess I will have to rely on her a lot, I mean I do sort of rely a bit on her.... Agh, this feels so complicated...thinking about the future is hard. He clutched his heart with a pained expression. So just #2 huh... Down-graded like this.... I guess it's okay. I'll try not to put you in #1 then, so don't be way too reliable, ok? He joked and smiled. "Oh, we mostly read about different monsters and locations. It's really useful stuff to know since we keep running into weird shit, but we mostly read about monsters to be fair...Though, when I was younger I used to enjoy adventure stories."

London

[...]

But don't worry, I doubt I'll be reliable forever, so you're saving yourself some trouble in advance. But at least you can stay one of my #1's for the time being. It's not like I can help liking you, you know? He laughs.

After reclining in his seat, London held his chin with his eyes closed in thought, nodding. "So that's why you suddenly became a monster expert in the middle of traveling. It all makes sense now! Adventure stories make sense, too. I guess I used to like hearing fairy tales, but I didn't really read much until I got older to be honest."

Zarek

[...]

 "After the experience we had below the library I thought it was for the best if we prepared ourselves before going to a third temple. Being with pawo while we studied really helped me keep going that evening." He said with a slightly proud tone. "I had kind of a naive idea about heroes and knights when I was a kid so, each time I got my hands on a story with that content it made me really happy." Zarek glances away while he says this, obviously embarrassed.

London

[...]

London rested his hand on a hand and looked through the window of the store. "Are the stories really that different from what you're experiencing now? It seems like you count as hero material to me. You're already helping to slay a dragon and save a princess." He almost whispered dating an assassin as a joke, but it didn't seem right to tease, so he just used his hand to hide his smirk.

Zarek

No, that's not all. You're still my best friend, [...] That's still good enough to approach #1! 

"Y-yeah they are... Knights in stories are always doing the right thing, helping people, never wavering in their ideals and actions. Meanwhile we do a bunch of shady stuff. I mean, in the end I am fighting for what I think is right but, it's definitely pretty different than the books I used to see."

London

 D-don't say that! You'll make me miss the fact after I drop below #2. London looks further away. This was tough. "I guess that is a little different, though. Kids stories can't be as complex as reality, and I guess a lot of real hero stories leave out a lot of details to make them seem as ideal as a children's book. I don't think that should makes your efforts any less heroic or amazing. ... So what would you do if they wanted to make a huge statue in your honor after everything settles? Would you take it?" He glanced back to grin at the thought.

Zarek

Damn, you're pretty determined to drop below #2 huh? You should be more optimistic. 

Zarek leaned on his chair and stared at the sky as he spoke. "A statue huh... isn't that a bit too much? I guess it's one of the best ways to not be forgotten but... geez I think that's way too much. Would you take one?"

London

 I'm trying to do you a favor here. You're the one who said Aneris wouldn't like it otherwise. It's for your future! Think of the children!! London sighs defeated. I might be overreacting a little.

 "If you saved the future queen, it sounds like something they might do... And since you're usually the one doing the talking, I'm sure they'd ask you before anyone else! As for me, I'd pass. That's way too much attention... probably." He'll leave it up for reconsideration.

Zarek

Zarek smiles. Don't think of the children geez, I have a stern policy of not thinking more than 2 weeks ahead. Don't wanna get too many false expectatives.... Also you're totally overreacting. 

"I don't know. Caila probably doesn't even know my name. I doubt they'd focus on me that much." He avoids giving his final answer on it.

London

 Y-yeah, well it's my job to think decades ahead. And I can't help it. London finally turns his attention back to Zarek and smiles. "We'll see what happens then. No one's going to get a statue if we don't prove ourselves worthy of one first, after all."

Zarek

"That's pretty true... I hope they give us info about the Upper Keep soon... it's been.. way longer than a month, maybe 2 since she first contacted us."

London

"Yeah..." London runs out of things to say and it gets awkwardly quiet.

Zarek

Noticing the awkward silence, Zarek speaks up. "You said you were more interested in spellbooks rather than other books, how long have you been studying on them?"

London

He gets embarrassed. "It's hard to say... When I was a kid I tried to learn magic from my mother. At first, I managed to use a light spell by pure coincidence, but it seemed like whenever something didn't come naturally, it was a lost cause. It was probably really embarrassing to have to deal with. And it wasn't just magic. I was pretty stupid in general. But my mother was nice and told me it was okay. She was probably more patient than she should have been..." 

"I guess it wasn't until five years ago after I left home that I actually made any progress learning spells. It just took all of my life savings to buy the starter books, lots and lots of studying, and trial and error. But even then, I was still only beginner-level by the time I met you guys. Hehe, but I'm not really worried or anything. Since we've met, I've gotten way more skilled. And it's the present that really counts, right?"

Zarek

"Was your mother also a mage..? Did some spells really just come naturally to you? That's kinda cool." Zarek processed all this new information before he continued talking. 

"So in the end did you learn most of it through self-study...? That's pretty great, it's a lot of dedication to put into on thing."

London

[...]

Zarek

 "It's kind of insensitive to say I guess... But you tried to steal from a girl and fell for her... Didn't you?"

London

[...]

"Since then, I've been thinking, she probably only hung out with me out of pity.. But it doesn't take away from the fact I really appreciate her efforts anyway, so I don't mind." He rests his eyes recalling the memory.

Zarek

"You're such a pessimistic guy sometimes, maybe you could have won her over... I really doubt she only hung out with you out of pity, didn't she want to see you really badly when you came back?... You're way too harsh on yourself." Zarek sighs, he felt kind of like an ass bringing this up at all.

London

"You think? Like, I guess.. the thing is...." London coughs but it's mixed with a small laugh. "It seemed like she always saw me as a kid. She was kind of older than me.........Ehehe..." This was embarrassing to admit. "You're probably right, though. Maybe it couldn't have hurt to have been a bit more optimistic."

Zarek

"O-oh, was she? How much older? You were around 18, weren't you?" He smirked. "Are you into older women?" What a way to get back at him for the other day.

London

"Yeah, 18 sounds right.... I never actually got her age. She didn't look that much older, I guess.........." His hand now covers his mouth as he looks away. This was definitely embarrassing to admit. "But I don't really consider myself too picky as far as age goes."

Zarek

"Did she look closer to your age or closer to your parents' age?" Zarek grinned.

London

"Uh, well, she looked mine. But I am completely confident she was closer to my parents age." London crosses his arms and nods to himself to agree with that fact.

Zarek

Zarek laughs a bit. "Looking for older people when you're barely 18 is almost amazing. What makes you so sure she was old enough to be a young mother though?"

London

"Hm, I don't know... Just a feeling." Even if it was embarrassing, the conversation was amusing enough to calm him down at least. [...]

Zarek

"Just a feeling doesn't sound like enough to say 'I'm completely confident.' " [...]

London

"I have my reasons." London smiled as if to say there's something Zarek doesn't know yet.

[...]

London

"I'm sure you could get along with both of my parents if you met! It'd be fun, but it's probably better to not look too far ahead as you said. I still need to confirm that they're both still alive.."

Even if it wasn't actually that long, London stood up feeling the need to stretch. "It's nice to talk...But you know, we should hang out more to do fun stuff! I'd like to go out on missions and fight with you, too, you know?" He carried an excitement in his voice, but in appearance, he couldn't help but feel a little down.

Zarek

"And I need to keep myself alive, so no hurry there." Zarek looked up at London and the mixed messages he was giving. "Don't look so down, we can hang out more! And missions sound fun, after we spend some more time with Mars and stuff we could try that. We've had loads of free time after all."

London

"Yeah... I think I'm just anxious. It's hard not knowing what to expect later. I've just got really mixed feelings about everything... I probably need to talk to you at some point, but I'm not sure how to say it. It's just tough. I'll probably just think to myself for a while. I'm sorry for ruining the mood like this." As he spoke he made his way around the table. He wasn't leaving, but he did get kind of close to the door of the bookstore.

Zarek

Zarek stood up and got closer to London. "It's normal to be anxious." He smiled. "If you need to sort out your feelings and stuff I'm always free to talk, don't hesitate on it. Just don't forget that you can always count on me, don't make the mistake of thinking you have to do everything by yourself, okay?" He patted London back with a grin. "You're not ruining the mood."

London

"I know. It's just.. I've tried talking, but it's still difficult. You can say that you'll make time to hang out with me later, but I can't imagine Aneris being okay with it. And even then, after so much time passes, things will be different anyway. I feel like I'm being selfish. It's just hard trying to stay optimistic about everything." 

London continued staring away from him. "And well.. I should be more grateful for what I have despite that, too. I'll still be traveling with Faelian, so that should be enough, right? I've been too much of a jerk to him lately. I wish I had better things to talk with you about."

Zarek

"I... guess she wouldn't like that, but even if I try my best to be happy together with her, I have to draw the line somewhere." He gives London another grin to reassure him. "She has like 400 more years to live than me, I can't let her tell me what to do and what not to do all the time, you know?" He sighs.

"It's not truly being selfish if we both want it, is it?" He stares at London with a sad smile. "I understand if its hard to stay optimistic, but don't feel bad about wanting more. It's not bad to be a little greedy..." He paused for a second. "What do you mean by too much of a jerk?"

London

"Maybe..." He doesn't look entirely convinced. But from her position, her time together with you will be like the blink of an eye in the long run, won't it? Once you're closer, she'll want to make the most of your time together. I can't blame her. I think it's for the best if you stay close. Just meeting once every 6 months wouldn't be satisfying anyway.

London blinks his eyes and interrupts himself quickly. "I just.. made him cry and stuff. It's no wonder he's so stressed out right now."

Zarek

Hearing the fact it could be like the blink of an eye, Zarek's gaze moved down, and it took a moment for him to look back at London. M-maybe it will, but I don't know if that's what I would want. I'm her boyfriend, not her dog... as much as I would like if she actually liked me that much I don't want that to isolate me from other people...

"I'm really sorry to hear that..." Zarek looked away a bit before asking again, it probably wasn't his place to get nosy in London's relationship, but since London was kind of a nosy guy maybe it was okay. "Was that when you told him you liked someone?"

London

"Geez, are you listening to me?" His voice cut Zarek off. London kept his eyes shut tight, as he continued talking in an annoyed manner. "Meeting 'sometimes' will just turn into a chore. I'll have my own things to do, and you'll have yours. I'm not sure what you expect. Even if we did talk, we won't be as close as we are now, so what's the point of holding on? It will just cause more problems than anything. I guess me meeting with you will also be like the blink of an eye, huh?"

He couldn't bring himself to look at Zarek at all through this, but he tried to retain a smug grin.

Zarek

Zarek swallowed and looked at London without any words, frustration clearly visible on his face as he stared at London's grin. The fact he was already dismissing him as a chore angered him, but instead of lashing at London he took a deep breath.

"You're doing it again." His expression was calmer now. "It's the same shit you tried on Faelian a few weeks ago. 'What's the point of holding on?' Give me a break. Why are you trying to distance yourself from me now..?" He sighed. "Don't do this. I bet you're just forcing yourself to."

London

"...................." His eyes blinked open. "Damn........."

London sighed back at him. "Sorry... I guess I need to think to myself some more. I just don't know what else I can do right now. I'm probably just tired.." He lowered his gaze and glanced away.

Zarek

"It's okay, you don't have to apologize... If you were attempting that again you must be super stressed out." After all, back when he fought with Faelian he had just seen Lacie die and they had the dangerous Phalanx battle on their way.

"...Hey. You don't think it's a chore to hang out with me currently...do you?"

London

"It's not like that. I really enjoy hanging out with you. Pulling that prank on Beaford was hilarious, and even if it's just chatting, I usually find myself happier after the fact. But lately, nothing seems to be working out for me. So.. maybe this seemed like the best solution. I don't know.." He mumbles this a bit too quietly.

Zarek

"I'm happy to hear that...but if you enjoy it, and I also really like hanging out with you..." Zarek turned to London with a grin. "Then why would you think it was the best solution?"

London

He gritted his teeth. He was hoping Zarek wouldn't hear that part.

"It's because......." Hey, are you sure you don't want to go and do something more fun instead of worrying about this? London casually hums and glances away wondering if Zarek will take the bait.

Zarek

We can go do something else later, that sounds great. As good as that idea sounded it still was a bit too sudden in the conversation to fully distract Zarek. "Because of what?"

London

:longdong: "...."

Finally accepting defeat, London shrugged. "The stuff with Aneris is just really stressful. Can you really blame me for wanting to make space? I just don't want all of this to give her another reason to stab me. And I don't want to get in the way of anything. Also Faelian's been lonely, so I should spend more time with him. And I'm just tired of caring about it all. If you can be happy with Aneris and I can be happy with Faelian, then everyone wins. It's easiest to just leave it at that. Don't you think?"

Zarek

Zarek clenched his fist, while it wasn't completely his fault that things were like this it was more than obvious that his own decisions were the biggest factor causing this. "...I can understand if Faelian wants to spend more time with you or if you don't want to anger her... but, don't say you don't want to get in the way." Zarek swallows and takes a seat once again.

"I... don't want this to get in between our friendship... It might be the easiest solution but it's not what I want." I'll do my best to keep her off your back obviously but we're not really at a point where she will just do what I say just because we're dating. I think even saying we're dating is going a bit too far... Zarek sighs. You really risked yourself just telling her you can read minds, you know? It was pretty smart to hand a note.

London

"You saw the note?" His eyes widened unprepared for the news. London was feeling a strange mix of surprise and embarrassment, followed soon by worry. He looked at Zarek with a concerned expression. "Then how did she react?.."

Zarek

"I didn't see the note." Zarek gave back the stare but with a much more serious expression. I asked her about it since the first thing she told me after seeing it was to be careful not to look at your eyes, or something similar. He didn't mention the signs of disgust Aneris made while looking directly at London's eyes, completely ignoring the warning. She wanted to cut your eyes off before I talked her out of that.

London

"Oh..." He glances away awkwardly, trying to not seem too discouraged. I guess giving her the note really was a dumb idea, huh? Well, it's not like I didn't see it coming, but I wanted to do something to try making up for earlier... Or something.. London sighs again.

So what do you want from all of this? I think it's a little naive to hope for some perfect solution where you can be completely happy without any sacrifices. We won't be ending conversations entirely, so it's not a huge loss.. Growing some distance was bound to happen at some point or another. It really is better to do it sooner than later so that it doesn't interrupt your growing relationship with her.

Zarek

It was way better than telling her upfront, it could have ended pretty badly. I can't think of a good way to make up with her from your situation so I don't blame you for trying it out... Zarek clenched his teeth as he stared at London, he felt a small bit defeated but it mostly upset him. I'm not expecting a perfect solution, but at least it's better than a shitty solution like being told I'm a chore to hang with! Zarek closes his eyes and takes a breath. "I'm sorry. But you keep talking about interrupting or getting in between us and it's getting on my nerves a bit." He opens his eyes and looks directly at London. "Don't undermine our friendship."

London

London opens his mouth but soon decides against saying anything. It was difficult to even look at Zarek right now, and it was clear that this was upsetting the swordsman. He lowered his head. "Sorry."

Zarek

Zarek stays quiet for a second before sighing. "... I didn't mean for this to get so serious, is the offer to go do something fun together still open? ...I think we both need to relax a bit."

London

"..We can." He still can't even bring himself to look at Zarek. I'm sorry that things turned out this way. Maybe I can still make things up to Aneris to fix it..

Zarek

Zarek smiles and gets almost ready to leave. "Let's go then, I'm looking forward to it." I'm just as much at fault as you, if not more, don't apologize for it... I would love if you two made up but I won't push you to make the next move.

London

It might not be difficult... I just need to be brave. Maybe she'd feel better if I let her slash my eyes.

Zarek

No, she'd just feel justified in her behavior if you let her... Please don't confuse being brave with being reckless.

London

"But if it can help her feel at least a bit less paranoid, then that could be a good start. And as long as I don't screw up after that, then everything should be fine. She won't have to worry about me hanging out with you, so we can still be friends." London mumbled and made a short glimpse back at Zarek.

Zarek

"I hope that was a joke. Don't be too eager to sacrifice yourself like this. You're not going to mind read Aneris, and you're not going to get info about her by mind reading me, so there's absolutely no reason for her to be overly paranoid or for you to pay the price of her paranoia."

London

"I just want things to get better.." He lowered his head more. This was all because I was nosy and baited her into telling me that she was an assassin. And then when I wanted to make up for it, I made things worse instead of better. She has every reason to be paranoid. I haven't treated her fairly.

"We should get going."

Zarek

"Yeah let's get going already." He put an arm around London's shoulder. I also want things to get better...though I don't understand why she would care so much about that secret. And you didn't make things worse on your own... You both worked together to make things worse so stop blaming yourself, she doesn't treat you fairly either. Zarek sighs but smiles anyway. Man, you two sure are a handful. He says in a more teasing tone.

London

London wanted to say 'with a job like an assassin, it's not hard to guess reasons why she would want to keep it a secret' but decided against it. He glanced downwards, and his eyelids felt heavy. This was exhausting. But seeing Zarek smile was reassurance enough. He gladly returned a smile back. "Any place in particular that you want to go?"

Zarek

"None that I can think of immediately, I thought you had something in mind since you offered." Zarek looked way happier now that he saw London smile back instead of sulk.

London

"O-oh yeah! I was the one who offered..." But it was clear London had nothing in mind since it took him a moment to think before answering. "I guess I like to.. have fun and play games? Music and dancing and drinking are what all the cool guys do this time of night." He grinned, shameless of being a bad influence to the younger man.

Zarek

"Oooh, is that true?" Zarek grinned at the suggestions. "Well 'cool guy', I could sure go for a few drinks and some games. Hope you don't mind showing me around and stuff." Having said this, he waited for London to lead the way.

London

"Hehe, sure." He began to lead him to a familiar tavern - the same place where the group had previously played an alchohol friendly version of truth or dare. London opened the door for Zarek. "So what kinds of stuff do you usually do for fun? All I've seen you do is pull a prank and hang out with ladies. You seem so serious otherwise."

Zarek

Zarek stretches a bit as he enters the familiar tavern. "Not much really, I mostly travel alone and go to sleep early...so apart from when I look for girls or look for ways to earn money I don't do much just to have fun? ...It's probably making you sleepy to hear what a boring guy I am, but you're here to change that, right?" Zarek grins.

London

"You're kidding. How'd you even catch anyone's attention with a bland personality like that?" London teased with a tone that seemed to say otherwise. "Just leave it to me, by the end of the night you'll be a natural party animal."

After talking with Zarek, he went straight to the barkeeper to begin with the purchase of some drinks. Hey, do you have a preference for this stuff? I'm going to buy it cheap otherwise. What London doesn't say is that if it's not cheap, he's not paying.

Zarek

"I don't know, luck maybe?" He laughs, he didn't even believe that himself. "Well, I'm in your hands as long as you aren't planning on starting a fight or destroying anything." Zarek grins and follows London near the barkeeper. Dont worry, I always get myself cheap drinks when I go drink. There's no need for fancy ones.

London

Right? If you're drunk what difference does it make? He pushes a jug at Zarek's chest while bringing his own to his lips wasting no time after the order was fulfilled. After a swallow and a relaxed sigh, he sat on one of the counter stools. "This is great!"

Zarek

Wow London sure got into this stuff quickly. Zarek took a more subtle sip of his drink. Sure you can get more with less money, but I simply don't drink enough to be interested in the more expensive stuff. For now thinking of expensive drinks only brings recent reminders of sore wallets. "Yeah, it's not bad at all."

London

"Expensive might not be bad for occasion... Maybe once everything's cleared up, I'll give it a try. I guess a little reward couldn't hurt." London seems to be talking more to himself, as he spins his stool from one side to the other. "Anyway! We should talk about some gaming ideas! Want to have a contest to see who can drink the most without getting sick? Or maybe we can have a singing contest! Or a dancing one! Or something else entirely. We could just.... sit and stare at each other until a real idea comes to mind." 

London takes a swallow from his mug yet again.

London

Fast forwards through London and Zarek drinking and playing some game. London claimed he won but after exiting the building he couldn't even remember what the game was anymore. They part ways at the inn.

[hey-i-wrote-a-story]

Chapter 8 Fishing with Grandpa

           Jacob Patterson loved being a grandfather. He didn’t think he would, what with that title marking his advancing years which he’d prefer to ignore, but he loved it all the same. He was able to dote on his grandson and shower him with treats, and gifts, and outdoor adventures without fear of spoiling him. He knew that his mother would see to all the discipline and denial and all that other parenting stuff. One of the perks of being the grandad was being the fun grownup. Besides, since his daughter’s marriage, he knew there wouldn’t be a man in the boy’s life, not in the traditional sense, so he could indulge in his old-fashioned notions from time to time with model building, playing catch, bicycle repair, and fishing trips. Today it was a fishing trip.

           It had been a fun afternoon for the both of them. The learned grandad with his near-limitless knowledge of tying flies and casting rods and watching the water’s surface for signs of movement below, and the eager grandson with his excited yearning to match his elder’s skill, making progress with every attempt. In another hour or two, afternoon would give way to evening, and as much as both participants wanted to stay out until the sun set, mom had been promised that they’d be back on the shore and ready to head for home upon her arrival. Jacob already looked forward to climbing in the backseat as his grandson regaled those in the front with stories of his adventure of Fishing With Gramps as said gramps beamed with pride. But they had to get ashore first.

           “Okay, that’s it for today, Grayson”, Jacob announced, doing his best to sound stern and authoritative. “It’s time to head back.”

           “Aww, c’mon, grandpa”, Grayson whined. “Can’t we stay out for just one more cast? I’m getting really good at it, honest. Watch, and I’ll show you!”

           Jacob rested a hand on Grayson’s small shoulder, stopping the lad from reeling back for a mighty cast of his line. “I know you’re getting good at it”, he grinned. “I’d say a fair sight better than I was at your age, as a matter of fact.”

           “Really??”, Grayson glowed at the praise.

           “Really. Why would I lie about a thing like that?”, Jacob asked, feigning offense. His white moustache bristled at the edges as he grinned. “But we’ll talk about it later after we’re on dry land. About face, kiddo!”

           Grayson whirled around in the water and bobbed about a bit. Both he and his grandfather were in chest high fishing waders, the heavy-duty variety with the boots attached. Grayson loved them. He loved the waders and the vest with its many pockets for stashing lures, and bait, and a compass, and a wad of beef jerky. He was also inordinately fond of his heavy checkered shirt and his tattered cap. He loved them because his grandfather had picked everything out for him, and was dressed the same way. So if Grayson was stuck wearing a gorilla costume, he’d be delighted with that too, provided his beloved gramps was similarly attired.

           “Now, remember how I taught you to walk in those”, Jacob cautioned. “I know you’ve got the life jacket on, but I don’t want you capsizing, all the same.”

           “But it’s fun to jump when I walk”, Grayson insisted. “It feels like I’m floating on air every time I lift my foot up. It’s like I’m an astronaut on a planet with less gravity!”

           Less gravity. The kid was sharp as a whip and getting smarter all the time. It wouldn’t be long before he’d be coaching his old gramps about new-fangled fishing techniques. “All the same, spaceman. I don’t want you going under.”

           “You’d catch me”, Grayson said confidently.

           “Not if it meant dropping this line of trout”, Jacob smirked. “Don’t overestimate your worth, there.”

           “I wouldn’t sink anyways”, Grayson assured him. “I already tested it.”

           “You did what?”

           “I jumped off the dock once when I had my waders all buckled on. I floated. My feet stick up out of the water like a life raft, but I don’t sink.”

           “When the Sam Hill did you do this, then??”

“Last time we went fishing. When you had to run up to the house and told me to wait at the dock. You never said if that meant on the dock or floating close by.” Grayson snickered as he kept hopping and bounding lightly along as the water receded from above the waist to below, to halfway down his thighs as they moved closer to shore.

“You stinker!” Jacob reached out and took hold of the back of Grayson’s life jacket and hefted him up off his feet, leaving the toes of his boots to drag in the sand and silt. “It’s dock fishing for you on our next time out, you wait and see.” Grayson laughed, amused as always when his soft-hearted gramps tried to act as if he were “taking charge” as he put it. Grayson threw his head back, snorting and giggling, trying to catch his gramps’ eye. He knew that if he met his eye while laughing, Gramps was a goner for sure and would wind up laughing right along with him, regardless how hard he resisted.

But the glint of the late afternoon sun on the water made Grayson squint. Eyes closed tight, the boy could still see a field of sparkling after-effects behind his eyelids. “Ack! Sun in the eyes!”, he cried.

“Well, get’cher head back down where it belongs”, Jacob scolded. “Don’t crane your neck like a…well, a crane. Here, we’re almost out anyways.” Jacob set his grandson back down on his feet but kept a guiding hand at the boy’s back. They were almost up on the thick grass beyond the shore at this point, the water now down to their ankles. “You alright?”

Grayson rubbed his eyes and found everything back to normal when he opened them. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s okay. I’m good now.” Only then did Jacob feel it was safe to remove his hand from his grandson’s back and leave him to stand on his own. For a brief time, they both just looked out at the lake, caught up in the beauty and serenity of the water, the grove of trees on the far side, and the occasional gull flying by.

“It’s really pretty out here”, Grayson said at last.

“It is that.”

“I like how it’s so quiet and you can just look at everything without having to really listen much.” He stood for another moment and did just that. “All the little flashes of light on the lake look kind of like jewels or something”, he observed.

“Yes, they rather do at that”, the grandfather said, reflecting on how often he’d thought the same thing after a day’s fishing.

“It’s cool”, Grayson offered, not yet having the words to convey his feelings about the quiet grace of nature. Then, “I like how some of the sparkles look like they’re floating up off the water. I never noticed that before.”

Jacob was about to tell his grandson about how the combination of the lake water and the fading light of late afternoon and evening can play tricks on your eyes. Or at least he was, until he saw them himself.

“I’ll be…”, he muttered. “What is that? That’s no trick of the light.”

Small sparkling puffs of energy blew lightly across the surface of the lake towards the two fishing companions and proceeded to float up to hover around their heads.

“Woooww…”, Grayson said quietly. “I’ve never seen anything like this before!”, he exclaimed. “What are these, grandpa?”

As the small cluster of energy puffs began to whisk around them, Jacob stared intently. That was a good question. What were they? Not mere seedlings or spores—they’d not glow like this if they were. Insects? They did swarm about like bugs.

“It’s way too early for these to be fireflies”, Grayson deduced. “I wonder if we can catch ‘em in jars like them, though.” He reached out a curious finger but his grandfather brought his arm back.

“Let’s not touch them just yet, Grayson. In case they have stingers or bite, like nettles or a chigger.” Something in Jacob’s mind sensed danger. The hair rose on the back of his neck as one of the glowing wisps zipped past his head. Firmly, he took hold of Grayson by the shoulder. “You know what? I’ll bet they look even better from the grass. All glowing and floating against the water like that. Let’s get out of the water all the way now.”

As Jacob began to hurry his grandson along—not much further to go—one of the energy puffs (nettles? thistles?) flew down and landed on Grayson’s waders.

           “Hey look! I think it likes me.”  Grayson reached down to his glowing passenger--perhaps it could be coaxed to climb into his hand--when a sharp spark shot for them glowing ball and burnt his finger. “Ow! Hey, watch it!”

           Grayson tried to swat the glowing ball away, but it wouldn’t budge. “I think it’s stuck”, Grayson frowned. “G’wan, shoo!” After another ineffectual swat, there were half a dozen glowing nettles clinging to Grayson’s waders. “Gramps, they’re all over.”

           Jacob tried to swipe the energy thistles away from his grandson, doing no more than gather some on himself, which clung to his sleeves and his vest.

           “They’re sure sticky little devils”, Jacob chuckled, trying his best to hide the fear he felt rising inside him with a lighthearted tone of voice. “Let’s hurry now onto the grass and head uphill towards the cabin. See if that doesn’t discourage ‘em.”

           As Jacob helped his grandson quickly lift his muddy boots from the shallows toward the soft grass, the thistles increased in number and in aggression. The buzz that was nearly silent from one or two of them became a rising hum that rang in the ears. In moments, both grandson and grandfather’s heavy waders were covered in the glistening thistles, which began to spark energy angrily, even as more of their number settled on their victim’s sleeves and caps.

           “Grampa”, Grayson cried. “What ARE they? Why won’t they come off? Make them stop!”

           “I’m tryin’, buddy! Just hold tight!” But Jacob’s words were hollow. He couldn’t brush the stinging thistles from himself, much less rescue his grandson. Jacob swung at the floating thistles with his fishing rod, hoping to sweep them away or swat them out of the air. Neither approach worked. Soon both were engulfed in a swarm of angry sparking lights. The smell of burning fabric and melting rubber began to assault the afternoon air. The stench of burning flesh and hair was not far behind.

           “GRANDPA!!” Grayson thrashed wildly, having no more effect than anything else had. The young boy screamed for his grandfather’s help even as his eyes lost their natural color and surged with a sickly orange. The boy’s soft voice was replaced by something horrible; low, wet, and gurgling. His body stiffened and his fingers gnarled like claws. His small body jerked and spasmed so violently that it was punctuated by the sound of breaking bones.

           Jacob screamed as well, but in defiance against these tiny creatures and out of fear for his grandson whom he adored beyond measure. The last conscious thing that Jacob Patterson did was rip his fishing vest from his back and attempt to drape its underside, still free from the attacking thistles, over his grandson like a cloak to protect him. He was still moving forward, arms outstretched and vest offered, as a cloud of thistles rushed in to cover his chest and back. Jacob’s eyes went orange and his shriek of pain melted into some kind of inhuman roar as he fell upon the writhing form of what had once been his beloved grandson.

           Above, held aloft by the steady beat of huge leathery wings, the monster observed with dispassionate eyes. The destruction of these two beings was total. It was still not satisfied.

             “Is that the right time? Is the clock on your dash right?”

The nervous mother tapped the small plastic disc on the dashboard, as if the jostling of her fingernail might prompt the clock’s hands to suddenly adjust themselves.

           “Gretchen, I swear to God, you could make needless worrying a full-time career. We’re almost there. Just sit back and exhale already.”

           Judith held the steering wheel with one hand and gently guided her wife back into her seat with her right. She offered a reassuring smile while keeping her eyes on the road. Gretchen began to chew on a fingernail.

           “It’s just that we are running late”, Gretchen said, trying to justify her anxiety. “I don’t want Grayson to worry.”

           “He’s fishing with your dad, for Pete’s sake”, Judith said. “The sun could set and rise again before he noticed the time. He loves it out there. Besides, we’re only five minutes late.”

           “Closer to seven, actually.”

           “Relax. Everything is fine. You’ll see.”

           When the women pulled into the small dirt lot just off the boat launch, they both had a feeling that everything was most certainly not fine. Judith quickly turned off the engine and stepped out of the car. “Pop? Gray? You guys even in from the lake yet or are you hiding somewhere gobbling down your catch?”

           Gretchen was less composed as she leapt from the car, leaving the door opened as she ventured onto the grass and across the lawn. “Grayson honey? Dad? Where are you?” Despite Judith’s jibes, it was unlike Grayson to not be waiting for his moms as they pulled up, waving the day’s catch in the air as his proud grandpa stood behind him.  She hurried to the section of lawn that dipped down into the lake. It was her dad’s favorite spot to wade out into the water and cast his line. Every once in a great while, her father would be busy untangling lines or helping her son with the fish and would fall a bit behind in their schedule. But not today. Today there was no one. “Dad?”, she called with louder voice. “Grayson??”

           “You suppose maybe they’ve gone up to the house?”, Judith offered, although that didn’t seem likely, as they rarely went inside before dark unless there was bad weather. There was an eerie quiet to the area, as if everything living or otherwise was holding its breath. “There’s not need to get all worked up”, Judith said, in a failed attempt to prevent her better half from doing just that. “It could be something as simple as your dad needing to get something from the neighbors. Or more likely, that Mrs. McGillicuddy has got them at her place and is stuffing Gray with cookies as reward for a successful outing on the lake.”

           “Even so”, Gretchen said. “They wouldn’t have left these here.” She reached down and picked up a handsome string of trout from the ground, covered in sand and stray weeds.

           Judith was now looking around with eyes as keen as Gretchen’s. “G, look. They wouldn’t have left these behind, either.” Judith stooped down and picked up two fishing rods, one child sized and one for an adult. There was also a handful of lures scattered along the sand.

           They needed no further searching or discussion. Without another word, Judith was on her phone trying to reach Jacob. Gretchen was already dialing 9-1-1. At least one of them got an answer.

           Nearby, out of sight of the two concerned mothers, two pairs of half-melted fishing waders drifted lazily down the shoreline toward the next dock. Stray bits of cloth and charred chunks of life jacket were either stuck to them or floated alongside. A glowing and stinking orange goo oozed slowly out of the ravaged waders, sinking down to settle on the lake bed below, raising a bit of sand, its lingering heat causing steam to rise off the lake surface and disturb the algae hovering around the odd plant. As it cooled, the odd orange substance mixed with the small stones and gravel along the sandy bottom, formless and luminescent, giving no indication it had ever been the doting Jacob Patterson and his young grandson.

             High above, the monster soared. Its eyes sparked, small lances of electricity arced from one orb to the other. Things were so different now. The garb, the coverings these creatures wore, had changed drastically since last it had escaped its hellish confines. It knew now that no matter how fit its prey, lack of covering would result in its loss. And weightier skins would provide little protection were the subjects too old or too young. It was getting closer. At least there was that.

[hoopslab]

A Black Man venting at 3 AM about racism and the new president

So…later today Donald Trump officially becomes the president of the United States of America.

Simultaneously, of course, Barrack Obama will no longer be president.

I feel like I’m walking towards a historical crossroads…no, that’s not the best analogy. Instead, maybe I’ve been riding for months towards an inevitable world-wide fork in the road, and as I look out the window I see that we’re almost there. I say riding instead walking, because ultimately I feel like I had no choice in this. I didn’t have any volition, any real inkling that this particular set of events would or could happen. My state of mind since the election has often been horror, and though I try to fight it with bursts of optimistic energy, the sense of impending doom just keeps sneaking back up on me.

I’ve got a bad feeling about this.

In the midst of trying to prepare myself for the new direction of my country, I have started trying to make myself watch CNN again. I had pretty much stopped after the election, you see…I guess as a form of denial since the pain was too fresh for me to handle tuning in right away. But in the end I’ve got to stay informed and into the world, even if I don’t like what’s going on, because hiding my head in the sand doesn’t hurt anyone but me. So I watch…and I read…and I listen to the radio…and every story seems to stab at something in me.

I watched the CNN special on President Obama’s legacy. I re-lived the joy and hope that this amazing thing could come to pass. And then…they started showing the hate. The absolute vitriol and destructive language with which people talked about him, screamed about him. The rise of the Tea Party as an “acceptable” way for a mob to say “I hate you”. Seeing him disrespected in ways that I’ve never personally seen any other president disrespected, especially by others in office. A U.S. Congressman shouting “You lie!” in the middle of the president’s speech. Public announcements by leaders in Congress right off the bat of intent to obstruct and prevent everything that he wanted to accomplish, then faithfully following through on that obstruction.

And ultimately feeling…KNOWING that at the heart of a lot of the vitriol was simply that some people could not allow themselves to accept that a black man was leading the country.

Then, I watched the coverage of Kellyanne Conway and other Trump supporters. Not even getting to the absurdity of the Russian conspiracy to interfere with the election, the cabinet and official appointment nominees that seem almost universally terrible, or the blatant lies and unprofessional conduct of our soon-to-be Commander in chief and his administration…maybe I’ll get to those things later, maybe not. They could really each be their own complete volume of articles, and I don’t know that I have that many words in me to work through them.

But I digress. Where was I? Oh yes. Besides the policy, I’ve watched Kellyanne and the other Trump Supporters celebrating and giving their reasons for why Trump won. The talking point is that the Democrats and the media didn’t listen to the voices of “real” Americans, didn’t realize how passionate they were to get “their country” back, how terrible “middle” America had it. This last week I’ve been hearing it asked why Democrats didn’t reach out to “Trump America” during the election, before it was too late.

Some are even honest, and instead of using code words in quotation marks just calls the demographic what it is: a subset of White America, many of whom felt that they lost control because a black man was in charge.

People of color are being asked to empathize with White America. President Obama himself, in his Farewell Address, said that we have to make the effort. Van Jones, a very respected CNN pundit that happens to be black, has started a whole series on trying to heal the divisions in the country by communicating with and trying to understand the point of view of people that we may disagree with…leading the way, as it were, as himself a minority non-Trump supporter volunteering to interact with a lot of (usually) non-minority Trump supporters.

It sounds like it should be the right thing to do. At my heart, I am all about communication and healing. I’ve got role models in this, people that I respect trying to lead the way…

So why does it stick in my craw?

Actually, that’s rhetorical. I know why. It’s BECAUSE I just got done watching eight years of how President Obama was treated. It’s BECAUSE Trump won by blatantly appealing to the most racist sector of our society, giving them a platform to claim superiority over minorities in ways that haven’t been allowed publicly since the Civil Rights Era. And it’s BECAUSE, having empowered that segment of society, there are real and present consequences moving forward.

Kellyanne Conway was on some show where she was accused of running a racist campaign.  And Kelly Ann was incredulous. “Do you think I ran a campaign where white supremacy had a platform? Are you gonna look me in the face and tell me that?” she asked indignantly, contempt dripping from her voice.

But the answer is yes. Yes! Yes, you did! And you KNOW that you did. And the fact that you continue to go on television and straight-faced lie to my FACE about it, just like seemingly you’ll lie about every subject that comes up, is ballsy and galling as all hell.

All around the country, in the immediate aftermath of the election, it became racist open season. On a big scale we had an elected mayor participating in social media conversations with city officials calling our beautiful, dignified first lady an “Ape in Heels”. 

Carl Paladino, the honorary co-chair of Donald Trump’s New York campaign, called Mrs. Obama a male gorilla. Or, more specifically, he said this:

"I’d like (Michelle Obama) to return to being a male and let loose in the outback of Zimbabwe where she lives comfortably in a cave with Maxie, the gorilla,"

Oh, and he wasn’t done...and he didn’t want to only target Mrs. Obama. Of course not. Here’s a snippet of what he had to say about President Obama, and what he’d like to see happen to him in 2017:

“[Barack] Obama catches mad cow disease after being caught having relations with a Her[e]ford,”...“He dies before his trial and is buried in a cow pasture next to [senior Obama adviser] Valerie Jarret[t], who died weeks prior, after being convicted of sedition and treason, when a Jihady [sic] cell mate mistook her for being a nice person and decapitated her.”

Yes, I know this is crazy over the top. No, I’m not making it up. Yes, this was really said by a former New York governor candidate and Trump campaign official. And oh, by the way...Paladino insists that he’s not racist. 

And it’s not just the Obamas that get it. Literally TODAY I read about a tennis announcer being suspended for saying Venus Williams had a “gorilla effect” on a tennis match when she came to the net. After he got in trouble he apologized and said he just used the wrong word, that he was describing her aggressive style as "guerrilla" tactics and not comparing her to a "gorilla."  That’s garbage. Guerilla Warfare involves hiding and attacking from out of sight. 6-foot-2 Venus Williams running toward the net is the exact OPPOSITE of guerilla warfare. But …yeah.

White Supremacists gleefully celebrated Trump winning and appointing Steve Bannon his Chief Strategist. KKK leader David Duke celebrated Trump Advisor Bannon “basically creating the ideological aspects of where we’re going.”   White nationalist Peter Brimelow gushed: 

"I think it's amazing," Brimelow said of Trump's decision to tap Bannon. "Can you imagine Mitt Romney doing this?”

Chairman of the American Nazi Party (yes, you read that correctly) Rocky Suhayda celebrated Trump’s election as a call to action on their website (which I refuse to link to, but if you’re curious I’m sure you can Google it).

Richard Spencer, the president of the white nationalist National Policy Institute, also celebrated Trump and Bannon. Then, a month later he went and spoke on the Texas A & M campus to college kids. Oh, and speaking of college campuses…

All around the country, numbers of racist incidents were reported on college campuses and schools. I went to the University of Michigan and still have people there. So these are the incidents I’m most familiar with. But these types of things were in NO way isolated to UM. But at UM…

White nationalist flyers and graffiti were all over campus (started before the election, continued after). “Alt Right”. “Be White”

A female UM student was forced to remove her hijab under the threat of being lit on fire 

Another female student was pushed down a hill by two men after being accosted over religion 

And here’s a list of a cross section of 13 racist incidents from all around my area, including three white students threatening to hang a Wayne State University student by her hijab, swastikas drawn on apartment doors, and of course, a police officer posting “go home monkeys” on Facebook in response to black protestors. Good old primate jokes, they just never get old, do they? 

This is the kind of stuff that many don’t see. Because it doesn’t happen to national figures and doesn’t get much run on CNN. But it happens, just the same. All around the country.

Now, can I say that Trump officially endorses any of these specific incidents? No. Am I saying that all Trump supporters are racist? Of course not. But what I CAN say is what I did above, that by running the campaign that he did, pandering to the racist segment of our society, and tacitly supporting racist ideologies, he (yes, Kellyanne) ABSOLUTELY empowered racism on a national, public level in a way that …in a way that I hoped I’d never see.

I’m…tired. I’m…scared of what happens next, where this country might go. Just last month Dylan Roof was convicted of mass murder at a historically black church, rationalizing “Somebody had to do it” and “Our people are superior.”

On Martin Luther King Day weekend I got to see Congressman John Lewis question the legitimacy of the next president, only to have that soon-to-be-president say that Civil Rights hero Lewis was all-talk/no-action. On Martin Luther King Day weekend! 

I’ve got three children. Two beautiful, intelligent little black girls that light up the world and a brilliant son who’s currently the Student of the Month in his class but that one day will be perceived by some as a dangerous thug. I’ve got to prepare them for this life. To protect them. And I…

It’s 3:09 AM. In just a few hours Donald Trump officially becomes the president of the United States. God help us all.

Other articles of interest

Sometimes you have to speak up…We matter too!

A black man and a police detective walk into a bar…

A Black Man Sits at a Counter in 2016

From Slave to Hashtag: 13th, Kap, Race Relations and the Election

Diary of a father of little girls, Part 1

My president is Trump

Moving Forward in a Trump presidency

Hidden Figures Change Our World

#misc #racism #Donald Trump #Black Lives Matter #Barrack Obama