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mortedeveles · 3 years

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broken bones & broken hearts.

SUMMARY: At the end of the day, you realize that as best friends or lovers, Oikawa Tooru and you are never meant to be together.

PAIRING: Tooru Oikawa x fem!reader.

THEMES: ANGST- just angst, romance, childhood friends to lovers. [ONE-SHOT] [CUPID’S ARROW WRITING EVENT]

WORD COUNT: 5.7K (around 5744 words)

TAG’S AND TW’S: mental health issues, angst themes, breaking up, relationship issues, neglection, mentions of injuries & blood, somewhat suggestive content (sex is mentioned like once)

before you read (!!!): This one-shot is part of the writing event, Cupid’s Arrow!! You can find the masterlist as my pinned post on my blog :) If you’re interested in more Valentine’s Day themed works, please make sure to check it out!!

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You should’ve known that falling in love with Oikawa was a clear mistake. It was written in harsh bold letters, a dreadful red that was anything but forgettable. Before becoming your lover, he was your friend. And you should’ve kept it at that.

But then again, you weren’t the quickest at sensing danger; from pulling your hand away from the roaring flames. You lingered, and waited, didn’t move until you felt the scorching heat of the fire on your delicate skin until you were burnt, the pain spreading throughout your body, like venom seeping into your veins.

You were his friend for years. You should’ve known how committed he was to volleyball, what extent he’d go for the sport. He poured his entire life, sweat, tears, and blood into it. Volleyball was his priority; but so were you. Or at least, that’s what you tried to tell yourself.

But as volleyball began to consume his life, spreading like a wildfire throughout his mind, the Oikawa you knew began to change.

The beautiful and mesmerizing roses that adorned his soul began to rot and fall until all that was left were dozens of thorns, deadly and painful. Leaving you to cry over rotten petals. He would spend less and less time with you, postponing dates and forgetting important events. And suddenly, you weren’t a priority in his life anymore.

Left you tugging at the other side of the rope, tugging with all your strength and willpower, only for him to drop the other end completely. Abandoned in static silence, with nothing but heartbreak and tears.

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Tooru was never good at keeping promises.

I’ll make it to tonight’s date, I promise, he told you with a brief kiss before heading out.

He didn’t make it. Left you sitting alone in a fancy restaurant, dressed up because you wanted to impress him tonight, only for him to never show up. You lost the count of how many times you checked your phone’s clock that night, or how many times you called or sent a message. They all went unanswered.

‘’Where were you?’’ you uttered once the lights flickered on. Sitting in the living room in the dark, you raised an eyebrow when the door swung open. His parents had been out for the weekend, and you had already informed yours that you would spend the night at your boyfriend’s.

Oikawa jumped, before giving you a nervous smile. You quickly assessed his appearance, unsure how to feel. He was in his volleyball uniform, forehead slick with sweat, sporting some bruises on his legs and arms. You didn’t miss the way some of his fingers were taped together, or how his knuckles were stained with dried blood.

‘’You….’’ were at a loss of words. ‘’You ditched me for the tenth time just to...practice volleyball?’’ Your words were nothing but honest, and yet, they were harsh whips of poison on Oikawa’s wounds. He cringed slightly, before swallowing nervously.

‘’I’m sorry, baby,’’ he murmured, ‘’I was going to make it- I swear I was going to, but then I lost track of time and well…’’

‘’This happened.’’ You finished the sentence for him, crossing your arms over your chest in disapproval.

He sighed, lowering his gaze to the floor. ‘’I’m sorry.’’

Eyeing his bloody knuckles, you frowned. An exasperated sigh left your lips. With a gentle tug on his upper arm, you took him to the bathroom. He watched you with a questioning look on his face but remained silent.

‘’Your knuckles,’’ you explained. ‘’We need to get them patched up.’’ His eyes softened.

‘’No, it’s okay,-’’ he held out his hands in protest. ‘’I’m fine. Besides, I should be making it up to you, not like this. Don’t fuss over me, let me take care of you.’’ The determination was clear and loud in his words. A sad smile hung on his lips.

Pursing your lips before breathing deeply, you insisted on him sitting on the toilet. He sat down with a reluctant frown, eyes following your movements.

‘’You can make it up to me,’’ you agreed. ‘’But after I patch you up, m’kay?’’

‘’Okay,’’ he hummed in agreement. Within a few minutes, you pulled out a medical kit and began to gently dab at his knuckles, kneeling between his open legs.

The night was quiet, almost gentle, after your small argument. Oikawa merely hummed a song you couldn’t recognize while you mended his hands. After spending a few minutes in silence and being almost done cleaning his wounds, you felt Oikawa’s lips press a kiss on the top of your head. You raised your head, meeting his warm smile and soft eyes.

‘’Thank you,’’ he murmured. ‘’I know I haven’t been paying enough attention to you… and I’m sorry about that. You don’t deserve that. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.’’ his hand settled beneath your chin, slowly pulling you closer until your lips met.

His warm breath fanned over your lips, every stroke of movement fueling your heart with such intense fondness and familiarity that only Oikawa possessed. His hands cupped the back of your head, fingers rubbing at the base of your neck, while your own crawled and wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer. Lips kept moving, tugging and dancing, until the two of you ran out of breath, slowly breaking apart with heaving chests. His forehead leaned against yours gently.

‘’I love you,’’ he murmured while rubbing his thumb over your lips. With a content smile, you wrapped your fingers around his thumb, squeezing it tightly.

‘’I love you more, Tooru.’’ And you meant it.

His lips returned to yours, this time attacking with much more fervor and neediness. Within a few seconds, he had your legs locked around his waist, holding you in the air as he sought towards your bedroom.

And for a few moments, in those moments where your lips couldn’t bear to leave him, when all clothes left your bodies and nothing but soft moans and loving whispers were said, you allowed yourself to forget. Forget all the broken promises, all the disappointments. Forget all the thorns that had stemmed in your relationship, inevitably hurting both of you. Oikawa was in your arms, he was with you, and that was all that mattered.

You could deal with the ugly thorns later.

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He first asked you out on Valentine’s Day. Now that you look back at it, your heart squeezes at the memory. You loved Oikawa with everything you had. He hadn’t rearranged his priorities yet- volleyball was a part of his life, but had yet to overtake all of it.

It was a hot, sizzling summer. The two of you were nearly done with secondary school and were soon on the way to high school. Specifically, Aoba Johsai. The high school of Oikawa’s dreams. As loyal best friends, you decided to follow him, to support his dreams- and the school also offered a handsome looking program of a career you were highly interested in pursuing. It all worked out.

Today’s holiday loomed over you like a dark and suffocating cloud. After witnessing Oikawa politely reject several girls- while hopelessly pining after him, it was safe to say your mood wasn’t the best. But he was quick to notice, and since the two of you had no romantic dates for the holiday, decided to go to the local carnival as friends. Just like old times, as best friends and nothing else. Everything troublesome shoved to the side, just to cheer each other up.

‘’Y/N-chan!’’ He called out to you, waving and sending a wide smile. You grinned in response, quickly walking away from the junior high’s building, and racing towards the entrance gate, where Oikawa stood, leaning against the gates.

‘’Took you long enough,’’ he said teasingly. ‘’Now c’mon, let’s go,’’ without hesitation, he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, the close proximity leaving you to walk along with him with burning cheeks. Not that he noticed, his eyes were on the carnival that was a few minutes away from the school.

‘’I didn’t take that long!’’ You protested, shaking your head. ‘’My teacher was holding us back because we didn’t answer the last question he gave us,’’ you pouted, and the boy laughed loudly. His hand squeezed your shoulder, and your heart thumped loudly at this. You wondered if he could hear it, beating too fast for its own good, desperate to leap out and land in his hands. Wanting to be his.

To your sides, you heard some of your classmates giggle, and felt dozens of eyes on your hands. Despite what everyone in your school thought, Oikawa and you weren’t dating. And as much as you’d like to, that wasn't your reality.

The two of you simply were affectionate and close with each other, having known each other since the fourth year of elementary, the two of you grew up like a pair of troublesome siblings. But you didn’t see Oikawa that way- no, your heart yearned for him. But anytime your hopes got up, they would immediately be crushed to the ground.

He saw you as a sister, you were sure of it. Heard him talk to Iwazumi, about how you meant so much to him, but as a friend. Nothing less and nothing more.

It didn’t help that the boy was gorgeous. One of the downsides of being his best friend for years was constantly being approached by shy, giggling girls who asked if you’re his girlfriend- or asking you to deliver him a love letter, bowing their heads before you, eagerly holding out a cute pink envelope.

‘’Hurry up!’’ Oikawa’s eager voice pulled you out of your thoughts. ‘’I can see the yatai stalls from here, let’s go!’’ He dropped your hand and began to jog towards the food stands, and you laughed briefly, before racing after him. The carnival had set up on the local but wide park, with fields of grass stretching ahead, trees, rocks and flowers littering the ground.

‘’Last one pays for the food!’’ You said, shooting him a grin as you raced ahead of him. Heard him gasp loudly behind you, before picking up his pace and racing like never before, leaving you in the dust. You stopped for a moment and laughed at his speed, recollecting your breath as you bent over your knees.

When you raised your head, you chuckled at the sight of Oikawa standing eagerly at a yakitori stand, quickly returning to you, holding two yakitori skewers. The sight of the roasted chicken, seasoned with tare sauce made your mouth water. In a matter of seconds, you ran up to your friend, quickly grabbing one of the yakitori.

‘’Hey!’’ He protested, but you saw the humor in his eyes. You smiled innocently, biting into the chicken.

‘’Thank you for paying, Tooru, even though I lost.’’ he shrugged nonchalantly, throwing an arm over your shoulders, the two of you walking away from the food stand. You blended in with the crowd of people, surrounded by food stands, kids running past you and the carnival’s rides echoing in the distance.

‘’Don’t sweat it. I’ll be your date for today, so I have to be a gentleman, don’t I?’’ He said with a sleazy smile, and you snorted, unamused.

‘’Whatever you say, crappykawa,’’ you crooned and grinned when he gasped, looking genuinely offended.

‘’Who taught you that-?! Was it Iwa-chan?’’ He pouted. He stopped in his tracks, crossing his arms over his chest, looking away from you with a dramatic sigh.

‘’I can’t believe you call me that too,’’ he grumbled, left shoe tapping against the ground. You fought back the urge to snort and giggle at the same time and instead, watched the boy carry out his dramatic antics with a small smile.

‘’I’m heartbroken! Truly, I can expect this type of behavior from Iwa-chan, but you-,’’ he pointed his finger at you, emphasizing his point. You let out a stifled giggle. ‘’-I expected better from you, Y/N-chan.’’

With a thoughtful hum, you tapped your finger on your chin, before smiling. ‘’What can I say, Tooru? Iwaizumi has given me some great names for you,’’ with a giggle, you patted his shoulder. ‘’And they really suit you…’’ slowly tensing your body, preparing to race off. ‘’...Shittykawa!’’ You broke into a run, giggling and looking back, watching as Oikawa’s eyes widened before he raced after you.

‘’Hey! Get back here! I’m not done with you yet!’’ You giggled, ignoring the few stares of the other people in the carnival, racing past food stands, without any particular destination, just determined to outrun Oikawa. And by the way you heard footsteps thudding on the floor closely behind you, he was getting closer. So you sped up, forcing your legs to work at a faster pace. The crowd began to disperse the more you ran, leaving behind food stalls and entering a rather empty area of the carnival, nothing but trees and grass in your surroundings, and a few rides, but they were at a considerable distance.

With a loud squeal, you were tackled onto the soft grass, giggling as Oikawa hovered above you, a smug grin on his face.

‘’Oooh,’’ you cooed. ‘’You caught me, crappykawa!’’ Your laugh grew louder as he groaned in annoyance, dropping his body on top of yours. You let out a loud oomph! as he continued to whine into your shoulder.

‘’Tooru,’’ you complained. ‘’You’re too heavy, get off!’’ With a slightly maniacal laugh, the boy pulled himself up, offering you his hand. You swallowed, and instead rejected his hand and got up on your feet. You missed the flash of hurt in his eyes, and smiled at him awkwardly as you patted your clothes.

‘’Well then,’’ he looked at you with a smile that made your heart skip a beat. ‘’Let’s have some fun now, shall we?’’

The two of you had raced towards every ride possible, screaming your lungs out together, usually leaving the rides with loud giggles and satisfied smiles. Every now and then, your hand would brush against Oikawa’s, and you would meet his gaze. Immediately, you would spring back, face burning. The boy would react similarly, his face flushing as he awkwardly scratched the back of his head.

Soon enough, the bright sky began to slightly darken, and the sun began to set. Touches of warm orange and hints of purple blended with the baby blue, clouds moving positions, opening a path for the sun.

After the both of you stuffed yourselves with so much food you nearly puked, Tooru pulled you towards the Ferris Wheel. The tall ride was perfect for the occasion; with the sun setting, and the air warm but soothing, it would be quite the sight and experience.

With an excited smile, you sat in one of the compartments with Oikawa, sitting across each other. Your knees brushed against each other, and you watched as your friend’s head bobbed as he swallowed visibly.

Once the two of you were seated, the ride quickly began to move. Gears shifted and the somewhat old infrastructure groaned, which was slightly concerning, but you quickly forgot about it when Oikawa began to talk.

‘’So,’’ he started, ‘’How did you enjoy Valentine’s Day with me?’’ The brown-haired boy gave you a crooked smile, and you gave him a smile of your own.

‘’It was fun. Thanks for spending the day with me Tooru, even if you had the choice to go with one of your fangirls.’’ He laughed at this.

‘’I wouldn’t want to spend the day with anyone else but you, Y/N.’’ Your heart somersaulted, and Oikawa wouldn’t stop staring at you.

‘’You don’t mean that,’’ the words left your lips before you could stop them. At this, Oikawa frowned and leaned closer to you. Your mouth felt dry. Trying to back away, you leaned backward, only to quickly meet the metallic wall of the compartment.

‘’What do you mean?’’ Within a few seconds, the atmosphere shifted. Gone was the playful but serene atmosphere, and was quickly replaced by a tense and stuffy environment.

You swallowed nervously and looked away, deciding to gaze at the scenery at your left side. Trees swayed beneath you, the carnival full to the brim with people, running, walking, and screaming. The sun gently enveloped you the higher the Ferris Wheel took you, but you didn’t mind.

‘’You’re my best friend, Y/N. What do you mean I wouldn’t want to spend today with you?’’

You could sense confrontation, and it was the last thing you wanted to deal with. Wanted to hop off right away and run away from it. As far as you were concerned, confessing to Oikawa Tooru wasn’t in your agenda anytime soon.

And yet, here you were. Wetting your lips before letting out a shaky sigh, slowly turning around to meet the boy’s gaze.

‘’That’s the problem,’’ you said in a low voice. ‘’To you, I’m nothing but your best friend. But to me, Tooru, you’re so much more than that. I...I like you, a lot.’’

He was silent for a few heartbeats. That was enough for you to feel rejected, to feel your chest tighten painfully, feeling a wave of painful emotions approach you.

‘’I know you don’t feel the same way,’’ you quickly interjected. ‘’But since you want to know, that’s what I meant.’’

The brown-haired boy let out a soft chuckle, and your eyes quickly snapped to his. He was watching you with a confused, but now relieved and soft expression.

‘’And who told you that?’’ Shifting in his seat, you swallowed as Oikawa got closer, his nose nearly brushing against yours.

‘’Told me what?’’ You repeated in an impossibly small voice, feeling your face grow warmer as the distance between your best friend and you decreased until it was nearly nonexistent.

‘’That I don’t return your feelings,’’ his lips slightly parted, and you watched them intently, swallowing when you watched the boy swipe his tongue over them. Couldn’t keep your eyes off the pretty, pink, and plump lips, especially when they were so close to you.

So close that if you merely moved forward in one swift movement, they’d be against yours. Just like forbidden fruit, Tooru Oikawa was so close in your reach, yet so far-so unattainable.

Being so focused on his lips, your breath hitched when you finally registered his words. You met his eyes, searching for any lies or doubt in them. You found none. Felt your heart thump loudly when you saw nothing but honesty.

‘’Wait…’’ your jaw almost dropped to the ground. ‘’What?’’

Instead of replying verbally, you gasped as Oikawa suddenly surged forward, and his lips were on yours. But then you froze, overwhelmed and confused. You had never kissed someone before- what were you supposed to do? At your sudden hesitance, your best friend pulled away. He watched the hint of fear and uncertainty in your expression and felt his heart drop to his stomach.

‘’I’m sorry,’’ he quickly said. ‘’Did you not want me to-’’ This time, you were the one surging forward, silencing him with your warm lips.

Both of you were inexperienced and were moving slowly and carefully. And yet, that didn’t stop it from feeling so sweet and warm. Oikawa felt you smile against his lips, your arms sliding to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer.

‘’This means you want to be my girlfriend, right?’’’ The boy said between kisses, and you pulled away to giggle.

‘’Yes, Tooru, I want to be your girlfriend,’’ now nearly seated in his lap, you sent him a shy smile.

‘’Good…’’ he mumbled. For once, the usually confident and flirty boy was a mess. Pink cheeks

and slightly ruffled hair, he could barely meet your gaze. ‘’Because I really want to be your boyfriend.’’

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Your eyes were burning, tired from being used all day. Class after class, endless notes to write resulted in you being exhausted. But that didn’t stop you from being excited. After the incident from a few days ago, in which Tooru stood you up and you ended up mending his hands, he took the initiative and said that you should have a home date together. It made your heart warm. Because for once, it felt like you weren’t the only one putting effort into this relationship. If he was willing to plan and set the date for you, then that was a good thing, right? There was still hope for the two of you.

Except that as soon as your hopes got up, they were crushed. Since Oikawa was going to handle the date, he asked you to stay away from his house after school, until five o’clock, so he could get things ready for you.

So you spent a few hours at your house, doing some homework before getting ready for the date. To say you were excited was an understatement. Finally, after so many canceled dates, you would be able to spend some alone time with your boyfriend. Just Oikawa and you, and nothing else in between.

And true to your word, you arrived at Oikawa’s house a few minutes past five o’clock, wearing an outfit that made you feel confident and pretty. You rang the doorbell and waited. And waited. Minutes passed by, and no one opened the door. Confused, you furrowed your eyebrows, deciding to knock instead. Again, no response.

With an exasperated sigh, you peeked through the windows, stomach twisting when you noticed the lights were off. No one was home.

Fumbling with your fingers, you quickly fished out your phone from your bag and dialed Oikawa. The phone continued to ring, and your boyfriend wasn’t picking up. After the sixth ring, you were sent to voicemail.

‘’Heyo! This is Oikawa. Unfortunately, I’m not available right now, so please leave a message.’’

He had to be kidding. You quickly ended the call, feeling overwhelmingly conflicted. You weren’t sad. You didn’t want to cry. How many dates had he stood you up? The amount was genuinely laughable at this point.

‘’Would it kill him to make an effort?’’ You muttered harshly as you decided to sit on the house’s doorstep, biting the inside of the cheek.

You spent an hour or two sitting outside the house. Every now and then, a car would drive past the lone street. The trees swayed in the distance and the wind howled in your ears. It was already dark, and you could spot some bright stars in the sky.

And by the time Oikawa showed up, you were so close to losing it. It took much of your restraint to not cry, sadness and fury were fighting over control over you, transforming into a painful combination.

‘’Glad you decided to show up,’’ you said quietly. You raked your eyes over Oikawa’s appearance. He was in his volleyball uniform, school backpack slung over his back, carrying in one hand two bags of groceries, and in the other one, his school uniform.

He met your gaze but remained silent. Maybe he was feeling guilty and didn’t know what to say. But you were far past thinking about that.

‘’Do you remember what you said to me on Valentine’s Day?’’ You met his gaze, tears pricking from your ears. Slowly, he shook his head.

‘’You said you really wanted to be my boyfriend,’’ you laughed, harshly wiping away at your tears. ‘’Well, it sure doesn’t feel like it.’’

‘’I’m…’’ he croaked, and you took notice of how his eyes began to water. ‘’I’m sorry.’’ You merely smiled at his apology.

‘’So, what was it this time? Did Iwa-chan want to practice his spikes over time? Had problems with the first-years? Go ahead Oikawa, tell me what’s your excuse this time.’’ He recoiled at your use of his last name. You always called him Tooru, sometimes shittykawa or crappykawa, but never just his last name, Oikawa.

‘’I was practicing my serves,’’ he murmured. ‘’They need to be better. But- I wasn’t planning on standing you up, I swear,’’ he held up the plastic bags in his right hand. ‘’I just came back from the store, I got the ingredients to cook you dinner...’’

‘’This is pathetic,’’ you quickly stood up, shaking your head. ‘’I can’t take this anymore!’’ You cried out. Tooru reached towards you, but you flinched away.

‘’No,’’ you whispered. ‘’Don’t touch me. I’ve had enough, Oikawa. I know volleyball is your passion. I know, okay!? I’ve been to all your matches. Cheered for you, comforted you when you’d lost your match. You’re amazing,’’ you let out a dry laugh.

‘’And that’s the problem. I...I don’t fit in your life. I don’t think I ever did,’’ you looked up at him with a shaky smile, but watery eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

‘’Don’t say that.’’ His voice was clogged with emotion. He dropped all his bags, and pulled you into his arms, even if you struggled. ‘’Don’t say that, please. You fit in my life. You’re my girlfriend, I love you, I need you.’’

With a gentle push, you slipped out of the setter’s arms. For once, he didn’t stop you. Only watched you with teary eyes as his lower lip wobbled.

‘’I need you too, Tooru.’’ You said with a small smile. ‘’You have all of me, and I only have parts of you. And I’m sorry, I really am.’’

‘’But I can’t love you like this. I can’t love you knowing that volleyball will always be first, that I’ll only get slivers of your time, and the sport will have your full and undivided attention. You’re going to be a superstar, baby,’’ you hiccuped. ‘’And I’m only going to drag you down.’’

‘’No,’’ he shook his head. ‘’No, no, no.’’ In a few steps, he pulled you into his chest, and you cried into his shirt. His head settled on top of yours, hands desperately holding your face.

‘’I’ll be better, I promise. I’ll-I’ll make more time for you, and-and I’ll make a schedule! We’ll have more dates, and I will be at your side. I...I promise.’’ His voice was shaky and you watched his tears along with yours, stain his shirt.

‘’Don’t make promises you won’t keep, Tooru.’’ You pressed a kiss on his cheek. ‘’Didn’t your mom teach you that?’’ You chuckled softly.

‘’Please…’’ he cried into your hair. ‘’I love you. Don’t leave me.’’

‘’I have to.’’ You slowly removed his arms from your body. ‘’You know that.’’

He sniffled in response. You stepped closer to him until your nose was brushing against his. Tooru quickly understood, and his lips crashed into yours with great fervor, moving desperately, hungrily. You were just as eager to reply, and subconsciously, both of you knew why. This was your way of saying goodbye.

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You were second best, and would always be second best. You weren’t enough for him, you never would be. His heart was set on volleyball, and it had always been.

How could you ever think he could love you? When you met, he had already given his heart away to the sport. And yet, he made space for you. Gave you small fragments that you thought were his everything; but were nothing but measly pieces, pieces you desperately hung to.

Your relationship with Tooru Oikawa was nothing but an unsteady foundation, the product of lovesick pre-teenagers, naive and hopeful as ever. Created for comfort, for tranquility, and most important of all, created with hope. But now? Now that all the veils have been revealed, when all truths have been spoken, and when there is nothing left to say, it’s bittersweet.

Bittersweet to the point you can’t bear thinking about it. It makes your stomach queasy, makes your heart ache, with tears bubbling up in your eyes. And at the same time, it fills you with such serenity and nostalgia, it makes you forget the pain and replaces it with fondness.

But only for a moment. And a moment is not enough.

You still loved him, and he still loved you. Your paths that had once been tightly intertwined as children, slowly began to untangle throughout the years, choosing very, very different paths. Paths that couldn’t be tied together, too difficult, too painful, to remain as one.

They only met briefly, intertwined tightly, but just as fast as they intertwined, they quickly untangled. Oikawa Tooru was a person who was meant to reach the stars, to shine brightly above all. And what were you compared to him? You were your own person. But your path was far different from his. And no matter how hard you tried, Oikawa Tooru was not your path.

Fate was cruel. It ripped you out of your fantasy and reminded you of how Oikawa would always choose volleyball first. You would never be his first choice. Made you realize that once the rose-tinted glasses were off, when everything was stripped naked and the bare truth laid before you, your paths were never meant to stay together.

The last sentence fully sinks into your mind as you shift in your seat. The cheering and roaring of excitement, loud screaming, and claps of encouragement echoing in the gymnasium. Watching Oikawa in the court feels like playing with poison; it hurts, hurts so much, remembering that you’ll always be his second option, and right now, you’re witnessing him shine brightly. Shining in the field of volleyball players, coaxing intimidation and awe into others. He was in his territory, ruling over all like a Great King. Without you.

It’s one of Oikawa’s best performances. His spikes are brutal as always, leaving a deafening silence before the audience uproars and cheers. His skills are polished, and all of Seijoh is hungry for victory. Before you know it, the match ends and Seijoh has won. You watch as they all shout in glory, hugging each other fiercely.

Usually, by now, you’d be racing down towards the court, jumping into Oikawa’s arms, smothering him in kisses. The thought pulls at your heartstrings, making you swallow a lump in your throat. The setter seems to remember as well, as his gaze meets yours, staring and lingering, but not moving.

You want to go back to him. Race back into his arms, pull him into a desperate kiss, try to convey all your desires into the flurry of kisses, and have him laugh and slowly pull away with swollen lips.

But you can’t. Not again.

This is for the best, you tell yourself as Oikawa and his team shake hands with the other team, and you don’t surge forward. You don’t cry out his name, watch as his eyes widen as you proclaim your love for him once again, just like out of a romantic drama. You don’t, and instead, you watch as he shakes hands firmly, a brief light of satisfaction in his eyes, before walking away from the opposing team. It’s for the best.

It’s okay; you don’t stop him from exiting the court. Your heart stutters as he suddenly stops, and glances at you. His lips part open, and even from this distance, and you can see the mix of emotions flashing in his eyes.

It’s for the best; you turn on your back and quickly exit the seating, as squeals and whoops of excitement continue to echo in the stadium.

This is for the best, you tell yourself. Then why does it hurt so much?

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His lungs are burning.

There’s a painful ache in his thighs, especially in his knee, the type of pain that probably shouldn’t be overlooked, but he can’t find it himself to stop. The moment he caught sight of your face, of your tired and weary eyes, he froze. Thank god he didn’t notice you until the match was over- if he had seen you sooner, he might've messed up a serve, and lost the match.

Stop it, he curses himself. This is why you lost her. Stop thinking about volleyball, and think about her first.

Once the referee blew the whistle, once he had shaken hands with the opposing team, once he saw you, he ran. Dropped everything and raced outside when he saw you retreat from the gymnasium, forced himself to run even though his body was screaming, forced himself to run towards your quickly disappearing figure.

He shouted. Shouted your name, tears nearly sprouting from his eyes, shouted until his throat was raw. But you didn’t turn around. Not once. You kept running, running further and further away from him. He didn’t blame you, but that didn’t mean he wanted it to happen.

When he reaches the end of the street, he barely notices it was a dead end. His heart shatters and the voices in his head scream the loudest they ever have. You’re nowhere in sight.

A dead-end, he thinks bitterly. Of course, he had to reach a dead end.

‘’Y/N…’’ he calls out one more time. His voice is ragged and his throat is burning, but he still calls out for you. But you never respond. You don’t step out of a corner of darkness or appear behind him, quickly racing towards him and embracing him in your oh so loving arms. Instead, Oikawa’s only response is silence. Deafening silence, so thick and tense he finds himself letting out a loud sob, dropping onto his knees, hands tugging at his hair harshly.

He’s selfish. Oikawa knows this very well, and yet, he still strung you along. Allowed you into his heart, even when he knew that in a few years, once he had graduated high school, he would be off, racing after his dreams. But the moment he first touched your lips, he stopped caring. When he witnessed your smile, all he could think about was seeing it again. Didn’t care about the implications, the pain his selfishness would bring. All he wanted was volleyball, and you. Was that too much to ask for? He loves you.

Oikawa’s always been told that as the setter of Seijoh, he brings out the best in his players. Knows how to play their cards to the fullest. And even outside the court, he was the same. Always coaxing smiles and giggles out of people. Making people feel at ease around him.

Then why... did he only ever bring out the worst in you?

a/n: okay so... this was a monster to write HAHAHAH the first time, i deleted about 2-3K ;> because i didn’t like the direction the one-shot was going towards. but finally, it is complete ✨ and this is my first time writing full blown angst + oikawa, so please let me know how it was!! admittedly, this isn’t one of my best works :’D but i hope y’all enjoyed! feedback is greatly appreciated :3

if you enjoyed, PLEASE REBLOG! LIKE AND/OR COMMENT!

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bleached-d-soul · 5 years

Text

Capes and Cowls and Romances

Commission for @bunnykingrules!

Jaune was never an adventurous person. Sure, he could easily spend days dreaming of living through some amazing adventure but, at the end of the day, he fully realized that those were just hypothetical situations that he would never take part in. He wasn't a knight who would slay the dragon or the tough-as-nails badass who would put an end to some crazy tytant's rule.

He was just Jaune Arc, a mild-mannered reporter from a small farm town trying to make it in the world of the big city. He expected it to be hard. Everything was way more expensive than back home. The air was heavy and smelled wrong. And he still had yet to go a day without getting called a "fucking idiot" by someone on his way to work or back home. But that was nothing that he wasn't prepared for.

Catching the eye of the country's most infamous supervillain though? How was he supposed to prepare for that?

Cinder Ashen AKA Miss Fall was not your everyday supervillain. She didn't go around yelling out her evil plans and schemes. Neither did she dress up in tight spandex or a mask. No, instead she was the face of one of the city's most influential and powerful companies, the QueenCorp. From food to weapons, her company had a finger in each and every pie. Even when that involved cutting other people's fingers off.

When Jaune first arrived in Vale, he wanted to keep his head low and just live his own little life. But as time passed, he grew tired of writing the same meaningless articles on romances on set or horoscope tips. He wanted make a difference. Why become a reporter if you are not going to change something in the world, right? Expose a dirty politician. Reveal the conspiracy behind the city's damaged infrastructure. Or, in case of Miss Ashen, reveal her as the mysterious mastermind that supplied gangs all over the city with bleeding edge tech to fight heroes.

It was all by pure chance. A small tip from an anonymous source led him to the warehouse full of high-end tech. Some more digging landed him the hard witness evidence of Cinder being behind numerous villain attacks on her competitors, actual or potential. Jaune finally felt alive. He finally felt he was making the difference.

When Mr. Port canned his story, Jaune ignored the warning of a man about how guys like him tended to disappear. He continued to ignore hushed whispers and warnings from every publisher that rejected him. Finally, he was done with it. Tired and annoyed at how everyone seemed so eager to ignore the woman's double life, Jaune did what he thought the best option and published it on his own blog.

By the morning, the story had spread throughout the city and then the state. As people talked more and more about her, Jaune couldn't help but feel the sense of accomplishment.

He expected a lot of things. PR team of QueenCorp. coming after him. Being silenced by some of Cinder's gangsters.

He never expected an invitation to have a dinner.

"You are not eating," she stated in amusement. Jaune had yet to touch his utensils. "Afraid I ordered your meal poisoned?"

"Maybe I am just not hungry," he smirked, trying to play it off cool. Too bad that he hadn't eaten anything the entire day. His stomach growled before he could even finish the sentence. The fact that the steak before him looked and smelled absolutely delicious didn't make it better. "Look, is this the part where your men give me cement shoes and drop into the river?"

Cinder genuinely laughed at that. It was quiet and small, barely above the whisper. But it was there. And it was frightening. Them being alone in quite the spacious room of the restaurant only added to the dreadful feeling in his gut.

"Cement shoes? Sure, after all it is such a practical way to kill somebody," she took another sip of her wine. "I believe you will starve way before I could do anything to you. Trust me, Jaune, if I wished you dead, I wouldn't waste money on the restaurant. A simple bullet and a fake suicide note would be much more efficient."

The way she delivered that line - as if she was explaining the simplest most common stuff - made Jaune feel both worried and relaxed. He could tell she didn't poison his food. But he could also tell she woulkd get rif of him as easily as one would be disposing of trash. With that in mind, he took the first bite of juicy and tender steak.

If she planned to kill him, that was one hell of a last meal.

And yet the death had yet to come. Their conversation stayed far away from him exposing her. No veiled or direct threats to his life or family. No attempts to bribe or coerce him into calling his story fake. They talked about their own pasts and experiences. How he grew up in a small town in the family of eight. How she grew up alone in the giant mansion with only servants and tutors for company. How he paid his way through college. How she had been left to save a multibillion dollar company after her father ran it into the ground.

Was she trying to make him sympathize with her? Why was he sharing his past with the woman who could kill him that very night? As their desserts arrived, Jaune had enough and asked her straight-away:

"What are you going to do with me?"

"Nothing."

There was no lie in her words. But why?

"Why though?" Jaune's eyes narrowed. "I have literally exposed your shady arms dealing operation for the world to see. Your company's stock has been dropping like crazy for a whole week and-"

"- none of that will affect me as bad as you think," Cinder smiled. Not a fake smile she put on every time she opened a new hospital or school. But the real one that reminded Jaune of the cat that caught a mouse. "So my company sells weapons to the criminals and? If you honestly believe that will stop people from buying my products or services, you clearly overestimate the general public."

She took another sip of her wine and continued with the same serene expression, "Trust me, Jaune, the whole thing will be forgotten the moment some celebrity couple break up or my company announces a new phone. What you did was no more impactful than throwing a glass of water into the burning house."

"Then why am I here? If it is so small and insignificant, why did you invite me?"

She put down her glass and smiled. Before Jaune knew, the woman grasped him by his chin and looked him dead in the eyes. Two golden spheres stared straight into his soul, something wicked and powerful brewing in them.

"Because you interest me, Jaune."

He tried to back away only to find himself completely paralyzed. Was she one of the Auraborne - the people with special abilities? Or was it just the power a woman of her status had?

"That anonymous source that gave you a lead... You never tried to find from whom it came, did you?" She saw the shock in his eyes as the realization came down on him like a hammer. She was the anonymous benefactor. But why? What could she possibly gain from all of this? "I see you are confused. Allow me ask you a simple question then, Jaune: Why did you publish the story?"

Her eyes bore further into his soul.

"Honestly, why would you do this? Not only you risked your career and lifelihood, but your very life as well. When your employers refused to publish, you must have realized just how far my reach went. So why?"

He could feel the power in her gaze. The power to crush him if she wanted to. To crush him and everything he cared about and walk away without any punishment or even reprimend. And yet, he couldn't help but glare back as he snarled in defiance, "Because it was the right thing to do. I don't care how rich or powerful you are, I am not letting you hurt others."

He could have sworn something changed in her eyes. A small current of the power too outside of his world to comprehend. He expected to be burnt into ashes or have his skull crushed. And yet, once again, Cinder surprised by planting a hot wet kiss on his lips. Her tongue invaded his mouth, forcing him into submission as she desperately searched for something in the gesture of intimacy.

His mind was on fire, neurons all at work to try and understand what the hell was happening. Cinder deepened the kiss and all the brain activity died as he melted into it. Just what the hell did this woman do to him just now?

Finally, she let him go, looking no worse for the wear whereas he was out of breath.

"Not quite as innocent as I expected from a farm boy," Cinder chuckled. "I can tell we are going to have some truly fun times."

"I answered your question..." Jaune groaned after he finally gathered his thoughts. "So why not answer mine in return? Why did you send me all that info? Is that some sort of game? Or a way for you to prove just how untouchable you are?"

Cinder smiled - that damned cocky half-grin half-smirk.

"Because I wanted to find someone like you, Jaune," she said sincerely. "I have sent the same lead to several new reporters. But none of them proved themselves worthy of my interest. Some were too lazy to follow up on the lead. Some were to afraid to investigate any further once my name popped up. Some were too arrogant or greedy, barging into my office to try and blackmail me. But you? You actually managed to pull it off. I am impressed. I really am."

"And why do any of this? Why risk it all for a thrill?"

Cinder smiled.

"Because I wanted to."

She delivered the line with the same sincerity he delivered his, mocking how simplistic he must have sounded to her.

"Once you reach the top of the world, few things can excite you. I have no equals or rivals. I have no one to challenge me," her gaze fell on him. "Not until now, at least. I hope you will find this new relationship just as enjoyable as I do."

Relationship?

"When did I agree to become yours?"

Cinder smiled. Her eyes were like two burning suns as she bared her teeth.

"And when did I leave any room for discussion?"

Two years had passed since that fateful dinner and Cinder's declaration. Two long years of trying to stay sane in the world that no longer made sense.

Despite what many might have thought, Jaune wasn''t one to roll over with whatever came his way. He would fight, weakly and unsuccessfully. But he would fight. With every door to the news publishing cosed out of fear of QueenCorp. retribution, Jaune had little holding him back from his next step. He joined the Atlas - the world's elite taskforce. Quite the jump from a mild-mannered reporter.

Training was harsh and brutal. The lack of trust from his superior officers didn't make it easier. But Jaune refused to quit. And now here he was, the field agent of Atlas, armed and ready to take on anyone.

Anyone but her.

"You have strayed away from the herd, my little knight," the woman purred, fire dancing in her palm. "Came here to put an end to our game of cat and mouse?"

Jaune raised his taser gun only for it to burst into flames. Before he could pull out a stun baton, the woman was onto him. her lips burned against his neck as she hungrily ripped off his suit. It wasn't new or even rare. At this point, it was just the way things happened whenever the two ended up on the same battlefield. When he joined Atlas, the new villain appeared on the scene.

Fall Flame as the media christened her. She acted different from both Cinder Ashen and Miss Fall. More proactive on the field. More talkative and flirt with her enemies - especially him. He doubted anyone but him realized it was the cold and ruthless CEO and weapons dealer. The woman that traded weapons to every thug without powers. And now she had the powers of her own.

Good thing he picked up a few tricks as well.

"Ugh!" Cinder groaned as Jaune pushed her against the wall. Using the momentary surprise, he attempted to put handcuffs on her. "Kinky today, aren't we? But sadly, Jaune, I prefer to be the one in charge!"

He jumped away just as Cinder burst into flames. He tried to contact the rest of the team but without any success. He was all alone against the Auraborne. And he didn't like his chances. They continued on with the dance, trading blows and kicks. But it was only him who was losing energy as Cinder dodged and blocked all his attacks without any trouble.

Eventually, he found himself out of breath.

"You have improved since our last time. You definitely lasted longer," Cinder purred as she carddled his face. "But you still lost and your companions are now my captives. You do understand where I am going with this, don't you, Jaune?"

Jaune didn't even bother with resisting. Sometimes he wondered if Cinder created this persona solely to play with him. In an hour, his team would be released back and he would be locked up in one of Cinder's safe houses, which one he would eventually escape only to start the same game all over again in a month or two.

"You know," Cinder said as she led him towards the transportation cell. "Things would be much easier if you just joined me and my group. I assure you, our benefits package is quite favorable."

Jaune sighed at yet another attempt by Cinder to recruit him, "Let's just go to your safe house."

He didn't miss the way her lips curved into a smile at his rejection. What was it she said she enjoyed, someone challenging her? One might wonder why he even bothered to resist her if it only made it more fun for her. Jaune wondered about it as well whenever he was fighting her.

Guess he just loved the challenge too.

It was complicated, confusing and twisted. But in a way, he enjoyed refusing Cinder's advances just as much as he enjoyed doing anything against her. Refuse to join her. Always do the right thing when she offered him an easy way out through doing the wrong thing.

Maybe he and Cinder weren't so different after all.

The trip back to her safe house was surprisingly trivial. If one were to see the Atlas agent and the infamous criminal chatting about movies, work and food, that person would think they went crazy. But for Jaune and Cinder? It was just the way things worked between the two.

Cinder wouldn't tell Jaune anything that could compromise her plans. He stopped trying to get the information out of her a long time ago.

But neither did Jaune reveal anything about his side and their plans. Cinder had yet to give up on her pursuit of making him into her mole.

"I am going to have a shower. Wanna join me?"

Cinder smiled teasingly as Jaune took too long to refuse. "No thanks, I think I might need get some ice for my leg. No thanks to you."

She doesn't apologize or feign sympathy. Of course, she doesn't. Cinder never apologizes. Because in her own mind, she is never wrong.

The safe house is a lot more of a private house in the woods than one would imagine. No camouflage tech involved. No killer robots on the watch. Just a small piece of property away from the city and wandering eyes.

At this point, he spent more time here than he did in his actual apartment. This fact didn't bother him as much as it used to though, something that he would think on during more relaxed times. He still hadn't come up with an answer to that. He would, in due time.

For now though?

He had dinner to cook.

Cinder had many flaws. She was a sociopath, for starters, with very twisted outlook on the world and life in general. All people either had some use to her or could be discarded without a second thought. And when she was bored, she would stop at nothing to feel excitement. She was also quite stubborn and while always willing to improve, rarely acknowledged some of her more moral failings.

Despite those flaws, Jaune didn't find her company as unpleasant as he should have. Otherwise, he wouldn't be making dinner right now, now would he?

"So what are we having tonight?" Cinder asked as she wrapped her still wet arms around his waist from behind. "One of your classics? Or something new?"

He didn't bother to try and remove her arms despite the water seeping into his shirt.

"I was thinking of some stew and miso soup. I tried it a few weeks ago at the new place near my apartment. The chef was rude as hell but the taste I got out of it was worth it."

Cinder smiles before leaving to change. Jaune leaves the food to cook for a few minutes and changes into something more domestic as well. He had yet to get used to having his own room in here.

By the time he changed, Cinder was already at the table waiting for him to serve the food and drinks to her. It wasn't the same as when she waited for her minions to present the results of their work. Or when she awaited the CEO of some other company to surrender the controls over to her.

Instead, it was a more expectant but warm atmosphere that greeted him. It reminded him of the all the times he came back home from college to be greeted by one of his sisters. It felt comforting and peaceful. Not something you'd expect from the current public enemy number one.

They enjoyed their dinner, trading quips and jabs at each other. She commented on how the Atlas needed to better train its agents. Jaune pointed out that she was slipping up with her guys - after all, Roman sang like a bird once they got him.

There was no heat in their words, however. Not even the slightest bit of animosity that was present whenever they fought. As if the two of them were actors and their roles - a Hero and a Villain respectively - were taken off the moment they were here.

Jaune didn't hate the idea as much as he should have.

"You ever get tired of this?"

He breaks the question when they are done washing the dishes. It is something that has been on his mind for a while. And he no longer wanted to wonder on that.

"Whatever do you mean, Jaune?"

"I mean... This whole supervillain thing you got going on," he gestured vaguely around the place. "Building weapons, fighting heroes and et cetera... Since when was this a thing for you?"

Cinder reached for his face and smiled.

"Since I decided to have you for myself. The bond between lovers is strong... But the bond between the opposites? It is eternal, Jaune. Light and Dark. Life and Death. Good and Evil. One cannot exist without the other. And so cannot we."

Her eyes burned as he felt himself entranced.

"Which is why..."

They left the table.

"I am never..."

They were in the bed. Their bed.

"Letting you go."

The Light and Dark.

Good and Evil.

Agent of Order and Mistress of Chaos.

In that night - and many nights after - they were together as one.

#Jaune Arc #cinder fall #arcfall #knightfall #Firefall au

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jy4life · 4 years

Text

Rocka My Soul

“Rocka My Soul in the Bosom of Abraham” is a song about being close to and in the comfort of God. It is primarily sung in African-American churches, but on the night of December 12th, 1981, the majority of the 76,000 plus fans at Rice Stadium, black and white, were standing, singing the song in unison. They were singing to inspire on the Jack Yates High School Lions, who were seeking to become the first all African-American football team to make it to the Texas state championship since high school sports were desegregated in 1969.

If you were fortunate enough to be at Rice Stadium that night, you just knew that it was more than a football game – it was a celebration of a transformative journey. The energy in the stadium was powerful in the most beautiful of ways - it hit you in your heart and in your soul. It emanated love, passion, resilience, redemption, and the power of community

Background

John Henry “Jack” Yates, for whom Jack Yates High School was named, was a leader, educator, a community builder, and man of vision. Born into slavery on July 11th, 1828 in Gloucester County, Virginia, Jack Yates taught himself to read and write, and also mastered carpentry. When Texas became the last state to end slavery on June 19th, 1865, Jack Yates and his wife Harriet moved to Houston. He became the first minister of Antioch Missionary Baptist Church, the center of political, cultural, social and educational life for the flourishing community of free black men and women. Deeply committed to building community and to empowering that community through education, Reverend Yates founded the Baptist Academy (the forerunner to Texas Southern University), which focused on preparing students for careers in business and the ministry. Jack Yates Colored High School opened its doors in 1926. In the early 1980s, the school was at the center of a vibrant, engaged ecosystem of teachers, students, parents, alumni and the broader community. And the bonds that were the basis of the Jack Yates community in the 1980s are as strong now as they were back then. There is a frequently used expression “JY4Life” which captures the essence of what it meant and still means to be part of the Jack Yates community. It is hard to overstate the pride and deep sense of connection that Yates alumni still feel towards the school and towards one another.

Lori Dee Mack, a criminal defense attorney in Houston, was a cheerleader and editor of the yearbook at Jack Yates in 1981. “Yates just had a special vibe to it, we were the cool school,” Ms. Mack said. “Part of what made it so special was the involvement of the community. We were expected to make something positive out of our lives, and those expectations were reinforced by our community.” Jackie Clark was a senior and the majorette on the acclaimed Jack Yates marching band in 1981. “Our parents and our teachers knew one another, expected a lot from us, and they worked together to ensure that we performed in the classroom and were good representatives of our community,” Ms. Clark stated.

The Yates sports teams were the focal point for community engagement, football in particular. From the beginning, the school was successful in football, wining four Prairie View Interscholastic Negro League state titles. Since the end of segregation, however, only once had the Lions advanced past the first round in the playoffs.

In spite of the playoff history, expectations were high going into the 1981 season. Several starters at key positions returned from a team that went undefeated during the 1980 regular season - quarterback Thomas LeDet, offensive linemen Rodney Henry and John Simmons, wide receivers Jeffrey Fields and Keith Burnett, middle linebacker Sebastian Harris (who made All-City his junior year), defensive linemen Stephen Baker and kicker/safety Lemuel Moton. That core group would be bolstered by several key additions, including defensive lineman Eddie Gilmore (who had to sit out his junior season after transferring from Sterling High School) and running back/wide receiver Randolph Wilburn, who transferred from Lincoln High School which closed in the spring of 1981. Preparation for the 1981 season began in May with spring training, and continued throughout the summer. LeDet, who came into his own at the end of the 1980 season, wanted to make sure that he and his teammates were fully prepared going into the 1981 season. He organized practices with his receiving corps that summer. “I wanted for us to get comfortable working with one another and to get our timing down,” LeDet stated. High school teammates working out together during the summer is now routine in Texas, but in the early 1980s it was not common. Little did LeDet or his teammates know how prescient these self-organized summer sessions would turn out to be.

The Season

The season began as expected, with a win over Worthing High School. The following week the Lions suffered a stunning and crushing defeat at the hands of Smiley High School. That loss, however, would prove to be the turning point of the season. “We needed that loss,” John Simmons stated. “It made us realize that we were not as good as we thought we were, and that we need to get focused if we were going to accomplish our goal, which was to win the state championship.” In that game, Smiley RB John Stewart ran roughshod over the Lions defense. To this day Sebastian Harris is livid about the loss to Smiley. Harris is a smart, thoughtful, proud man who still looks like he could level an NFL running back. “We were out hit that game,” he says, with both surprise and disappointment. John just ran all over us, we had never experienced a running back with such speed, power and determination. The gentlemen just set the tone and had his way the entire game.”

The next week in practice 2nd year linebacker coach Coger Coverson, a former Washington Redskins offensive guard and Yates alum, declared that every position on defense was open. Practice started with the intense and savage bullring drill (this is the drill where one player is in the middle of a ring and takes on other players in rapid sequence). It was perhaps the most intense week of practice during our time at Yates.” That week set the tone for the rest of the season, as the Harris, Stephen Baker and Eddie Gilmore led defense would pitch 5 shutouts on the way to allowing just over 10 points per game the rest of the season. Offensively, Smiley had stacked the line of scrimmage, daring the Lions to beat them with the passing game. Yates was historically a power running team, and Coach Luther Booker was loath to abandon the run. The Lions finally began passing in the 4th quarter, but by then it was too late. Yet Booker saw enough that game to convince him to let LeDet and the passing game become the focal point of the offense. “We discovered that we had good quarterback that game,” John Simmons said. The investment LeDet and his receivers made that summer was about to pay-off in a profound way. Under LeDet’s leadership the offense exploded, averaging almost 30 points per game the remainder of the season. In an era where the running game was focal point of most offenses, the Lions wide-open and vertical passing game was novel and exciting. In addition to Fields, Burnett and Wilburn (who had moved from running back to wide receiver), LeDet had wide receiver Rayfield Gee and powerful tight ends in Sylvester Morgan and Leonard Moon. LeDet would go on to have the sixth most productive passing season in Houston high school football history. As the season progressed and the Lions advanced in the playoffs, the city of Houston began to take notice. The Lions explosive offense, dominating defense and high-flying marching band were a weekly show that was hard to beat. “As we started winning everyone wanted to be associated with us,” Harris said. “Radio stations, newspaper reports, television stations – they were around us all of the time.” From a purely entertainment perspective, the highlight of the season came when the Lions went head to head with the famous “Who Shot JR” episode of Dallas, which at the time was the highest viewed television show in US history. “I remember Saturday November 21st - that was the night that the “Who Shot JR” episode aired, Mack said. “We were playing Booker T Washington in bi-district at the Astrodome and the stadium was packed. We went head to head with one of the most watched television shows of all time and won,” she said laughingly. Blacks and whites lived in separate worlds during those days in Houston. When their worlds intersected, it was often confrontational. There was a clear lack of trust and understanding between the two communities. Yet somehow the Lions performance was able to transcend race and bring those two worlds together, at least for a period of time. “When I was a teenager, I did encounter some forms of subtle prejudice, Thomas LeDet said. “However, I learned to ignore it. But for many of my teammates and friends, racism was hard to ignore. The stares we encountered when we entered a sporting goods store, personnel following you around, etc. But that changed when we beat Aldine in the quarterfinals.” “ I remember walking into Foleys’ department store with my teammates Jeffrey Fields and Kenneth Wiley after we beat Aldine in the quarterfinals. We were wearing our letterman jackets. As we entered the store, we noticed a distinct change on the part of the personnel - instead of suspicious and concerned faces there were smiles accompanied by quick service and people asking us if they could help us. Shortly after entering the store, a middle age white woman hurried over to my side and pointed to a Volkswagen size photo on the upper banister right in the entrance of the store. It was a picture of the entire team and staff of the 1981/82 Jack Yates football team! Needless to say, we stood speechless for a moment and then were elated. We knew at that moment that we were something special not just to the black community, but also to the entire city. “ “I remember during the playoffs a very popular white radio station (104 KRBE) was broadcasting live from the Jack Yates School of Communications. Quite a few students told me as I walked towards the lunchroom that the DJ was looking for me. As I approached, he announced, "Here he comes the man of the hour.... Mr. Thomas LeDet, the quarterback for Jack Yates High School. He began to ask me questions about our season and if I thought we were going to go all the way. It was exciting and fun, and at the end, the DJ asked me, what was my favorite radio station. As we both chuckled.... I said, as of today, KRBE is one of my favorites. And then the DJ playfully asked me if I had ever heard of 104 KRBE. We both laughed and I said no. At that point, he presented me with a trophy of a giant #1 symbol with the radio station call letters and “Congratulations on a Great Season” engraved. He went on to say that the radio station and the entire City of Houston were cheering for us in the upcoming regional championship. I was left with a feeling of joy and the sense that our team meant more to the city than just football.”

The Breakthrough

The Lions marched through the playoffs, defeating Booker T. Washington in bi-district, Houston Madison in the regional finals and Aldine in the quarterfinals. Next up? Perennial power San Antonio Churchill in the state semi-finals

The Chargers, who were led by quarterback Cody Carlson (Carlson would go on to star at Baylor University and play seven years in the NFL) and had a glorious history of advancing deep in the state playoffs, including winning the championship in 1976. They were heavily favored to defeat the Lions and advance to the state championship.

Fittingly, Rice Stadium was chosen as the site for the game. On September 12th, 1962, President Kennedy delivered his famous “We choose to go to the Moon” speech at Rice Stadium, a vision which was realized with the Apollo 11 mission in July 1969. Now, 19 plus years later, the stadium was again the site for another potential pivotal moment – if Yates could defy the odds and beat Churchill, they would become the first all African-American team to make it to the state championship.

The week leading up to the game was frenetic. “The whole community rallied behind the guys,” said Nanette “Nettie” Simmons, a cheerleader in 1981. “And it continued to and throughout the game. It was a cold and wet night, but I remember the stadium overflowing and people sitting on the grassy hill outside the stadium to watch the game.”

Churchill jumped out to a 14-0 lead, thanks to some great running by Doug Hodo, pinpoint passing by Cody Carlson, good play calling, and a bit of luck – the headsets on the Yates side were not working until the second quarter so Yates was not able to make defensive adjustments to counter the Chargers. Sebastian Harris rallied the defense, the Lions made adjustments and held Churchill scoreless the second quarter. Thomas LeDet and the offense got untracked, with LeDet throwing touchdown passes to Rayfield Gee and Keith Burnett. Churchill scored a safety to make the game 16-14 at halftime.

The week before Yates had trailed Aldine 14-0 before exploding for 42 straight points in a 42-14 win. But this game had a much different feel to it. “We knew we were in a fight. Those guys – Churchill – were tough and would not quit,” said both running back Artie Mitchell and punter Ronald Davis.

The second half was like a classic heavyweight boxing match, a la Rocky Balboa vs. Apollo Creed, with Yates ironically playing the role of Rocky. Churchill scored to go up 23-14 and looked to be on the verge of blowing the game open, when Harris rallied the defense and LeDet the offense. LeDet hit Keith Burnett with a 69-yard touchdown pass, ran for a score, and Harris forced a fumble which led to a Moton field goal. Suddenly Yates was up 31-23 with under 5 minutes left and it looked like they had all of the momentum.

Carlson and Churchill responded by driving to mid-field. Harris and the defense forced a 4th and 10 and a time-out was called by the officials to confirm the game statistics. In those days there was no overtime, in the event of a tie the team with the most 20-yard line penetrations and first downs advanced. Churchill was ahead in both.

On 4th and 10 Carlson completed a 47-yard pass to Harold Huggins. Three plays later Churchill scored to trail 31-29. Churchill then made a 2-point conversion on a tipped pass, and the score was 31-31. Less than 2 minutes remained.

LeDet led the offense to the 45-yard line, where three straight long passes to Burnett and Fields were incomplete. It was now 4th and 10, and arguably the most important play in the history of not only Yates football but perhaps for inner-city schools across the state of Texas was forthcoming. Since segregation in Texas high school sports ended in 1969, a widely held perception was that an all African-American football team lacked the intellect, discipline, mental toughness and adaptability to advance far in the playoffs. The Lions had been shattering that myth all year, winning by playing smart, disciplined football and adapting at key points during the season. Fittingly, for them to advance to the championship, they would once again have to call on these traits to convert, score and then hold Churchill in check.

“I told Thomas and Coach Booker that I was open underneath all game long,” said Randolph Wilburn. “Thomas and I convinced Coach Booker that Churchill would double cover Keith (Burnett) and Jeffrey (Fields), and to pass to me on an underneath route. We were confident that we could get the 10 yards and convert.”

Everyone was on their feet as LeDet approached the line of scrimmage. LeDet dropped back, avoided the Churchill rush and made a perfect throw to Wilburn, who caught the ball at the Churchill 45-yard line. Wilburn then put his running back skill to use, and thanks to blocking from Jeffrey Fields advanced the ball to the Churchill 20-yard line.

The Lions were well within kicker Lemuel Moton’s range, but this game was about making history, and they were not going to let a field goal determine their fate. “We had momentum and believed we could run the ball to victory,” said John Simmons. Behind crushing blocks from Simmons, Rodney Henry, Byron Strain, Phillip James, James Jackson and Sylvester Morgan, the Lions ran the ball 4 straight times, with LeDet scoring to put the Lions up 38-31.

However, there were 40 seconds left on the clock. And Churchill & Carlson had countered Yates all night long with big plays of their own.

As Ronald Davis lined-up to kick-off, the energy in the stadium as frenetic. There was no way that these fans and the spirits of the African-American men and women who paved the way for this moment were going to let the Lions falter. Reserve linemen Tracy Sandles pinned Churchill inside their own 10-yard line on the kick-off. On the ensuing play, Carlson never had time to get off a pass –Gilmore, Baker, and the passion and energy of the city of Houston sacked him in the end zone for a safety. Yates 40 Churchill 31!

As LeDet ran out the clock, students, teachers, alumni, and fans – black and white - from across the city of Houston poured onto the field to celebrate with the team. Rice Stadium was again the setting for a historical moment. It was not just that Yates become the first all African-American team to advance to the championship, it was how they did it. They shattered long-held racist myths about African-American teams lacking the intellect, character and discipline to advance.

LeDet was also a terrific role model for a new generation of African-American quarterbacks. Historically, when African-Americans were allowed to play quarterback it was as an option quarterback, not a pro-style quarterback. Barry Switzer at Oklahoma and Bill Yeoman at Houston were pioneers in allowing African-Americans to play quarterback, but those were in running offenses where the quarterback was essentially a running back. It seems hard to believe but the perception that African-Americans could not lead a pro-style offense (where the quarterback was responsible for making all key decisions – passing and running) delayed Hall of Fame quarterback Warren Moon’s entry to the NFL by 6 years.

The Aftermath and the Present Day

The Lions would go on to lose the state championship 19-6 to Richardson Lake Highlands the following week. The Lions had 8 turnovers and offensively were in a funk all game long. The Harris-led defense dominated Lake Highlands, effectively hold them to 12 points on 4 field goals. But it was just not meant to be.

However, the victory of breaking through and making it to state in the way they did had a powerful impact, one that went beyond the football field.

The relationship between educational attainment and Texas high school football is more often than not negatively correlated. However, the 81 team, in the spirit of Reverend Yates, helped reversed this relationship by helping awaken their community to educational possibilities.

“At first colleges sent athletic recruiters to Yates because of the success of the football team,” Lori Dee Mack said. “They quickly followed by sending academic recruiters, and all of a sudden we started to hear about schools like TCU, which we did not know existed. At the time we thought the only college options were local schools Texas Southern and the University of Houston. All of sudden were aware of all of these other schools – this just would not have been possible had the team not done so well and attracted the attention it did…” “I wound-up going to TCU with 3 of my girlfriends, and other friends went to the University of Texas, Texas A&M, etc. It was really incredible how the team’s success opened doors for us students, “Mack stated. “It was also very comforting knowing that people from our community (Thomas LeDet and Keith Burnett went to TCU with Mack and her friends) were going to these schools.”

And the football team also set an example for the students. “I remember Coach Booker saying that 90% of the players he coached went-on to college,” Randolph Wilburn noted. In 1985 the Lions would go undefeated and win the state championship, becoming the first all African-American football team to win a state championship in Texas post segregation. That team, which was led by running back Johnny Bailey, is widely considered to be the best team in the history of Texas high school football. The path for the 85 team had been paved 4 years earlier by a remarkable group of young men. “The players on the 81 team had a sense of humility about them,” Mack said. “They didn’t let the attention go to their heads, and you just knew that they were going to do something positive with their lives.”

The magic of the 81 team’s journey continues to resonate to this day. Stella Hall, a cheerleader in 1981, currently works at MD Anderson Cancer Center. She was recently at a conference in Wisconsin and was speaking with a man who, when he found out she went to Jack Yates, asked her if she knew Thomas LeDet, Sebastian Harris and Jeffrey Fields. “He somehow knew about our school, the 81 team and the key guys on that team,” Stella said, shaking her head in disbelief.

Thomas LeDet was recently approached on two separate occasions – one by a former Yates student who graduated in the 1990s, the other by a former cafeteria worker from the University of Houston (LeDet worked at the University of Houston cafeteria while in school, serving the likes of Hakeem Olajuwon and Clyde Drexler). Both individuals wanted to tell LeDet how much the 81-team inspired them. “At times it just seems incredible, he says, reflecting on the impact of the 81 team. We were just focused on winning on the field. It is really special to know that we inspired people.”

#jackyates #jy4life #Thomas LeDet #Sebastian Harrris

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bangtantannie · 5 years

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Sweet Americano

Word Count: 1.8K

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluffy ending

Rating: PG-13

Warning: I tried fluff again, other than that there are no other trigger warnings

A/N: Helloooo,,, wow writer Hal has come out of hibernation for the sake of requests. This is dedicated to Mae @tinyjhs who requested this AGES ago. Sorry it took so long,,, with this posted.... I think you know what comes next [insert devil emoji here] Anyway,,, I hope you enjoy my fic I especially hope you enjoy it Mae :(( I think I’m getting rusty. I have one more request to write,, so hopefully keep your eye out for that as well!!

Requests are open!! And my inbox is always open for feedback ^.^

Summary: Cup of coffee in hand, Jungkook is buried in the bitter aftertaste of caffeine and a relationship he shouldn’t have let go.

Enjoy~~~

Americanos are extremely bitter; it had Jungkook clenching his jaw at the sharp taste as the caffeine swirled around his tongue. It was a known fact among him, his members, and his fans that he had an aversion for the bitter drink; but very few knew he actually had some form of unhealthy attachment to the drink despite it being one of the worst things in existence. He unconsciously found himself sipping at the dark beverage too often, and it only increased tenfold after his career took off. Each sip of the iced drink brought a different memory to the surface, her laugh, her smile, her scent, her coffee kisses. Each swirl of the bitter beverage took him back to everything that reminded him of her – soft, silky strands of hair, late nights spent studying, staying awake in class running on the sheer power of caffeine and willpower. Americanos were the closest he could get to her – the one he shouldn’t have let go for the sake of his career.

It hurt, realizing he was here now because of her sacrifice.

Jungkook had a hard time getting back on his feet after the breakup. It was just the previous night that they were promising to achieve their dreams together, to be there for each other forever. Y/n suddenly giving him the cold shoulder and leaving him without a second thought was like throwing a bucket of water on him. Suddenly everything was colder, clearer. It was hard to get it together, but with the push of the boys, he found it in himself to start focusing on his career. Jungkook buried himself in work and practice and management couldn’t be any happier about the results that came from his focus and determination. Little did they know all his efforts were because of Y/n. He wanted to show her what she could’ve had, what they could’ve been. He wanted his name to be everywhere and his face plastered on every surface all over the world, so that she could never forget him – no matter where she went. Hearing that management could be the reason why the best person in his life dropped him as if he were deadweight had him reeling.

Why was he singing? What did he want in life? Was he happy with what he was doing now? Jungkook hadn’t questioned his dream in a long time, not since he saw Namjoon rapping for the first time.

Jungkook stirred his drink mindlessly, imagining what life would’ve been like if he had stayed with Y/n. He should’ve known that she wasn’t one to have a change of heart so suddenly. She wouldn’t have let him go if it wasn’t for his sake. After all, she was one to put another’s need before hers, even if it meant hurting herself in the process. Never had Jungkook missed someone so much. It was like there was a hole in his heart; as if a part of his soul had been left behind somewhere – with someone. If fate would have it, Jungkook would latch on to Y/n and never let go again if she ever stumbled back into his life.

“Jungkook?” A woman’s voice echoed in his ears.

His attention was immediately directed toward the woman standing before him. She was awfully familiar. Granted, most of her face had been hidden by a hat and a black mask – much like his own. But the sweet smell of caramel caused feelings of nostalgia to rise from within. She smelled just like Y/n.

Internally sighing that it wasn’t a fan that had deduced it was him, he started to study the woman. She wasn’t an idol, but because rookies have come and gone throughout the years, he couldn’t exactly rule out the possibility either.

“Hello…” Jungkook trailed hesitantly. If she was someone he had worked with in the past, her name wasn’t coming to mind.

“Ah, of course, you wouldn’t recognize me,” the woman responded, immediately reaching up to pull the mask off her face.

Jungkook couldn’t help but gasp. His wish had come true.

-------

Jungkook sighed as he sat at the bench, sipping the iced americano. One month had passed ever since he ran into Y/n. One week had passed ever since Jungkook asked her out on a date. Three days had passed since he helped Y/n move the last of her things into boxes. She got a job offer in Brazil and was preparing to make the temporary move, but if everything worked in her favor, she would be making her stay permanent. Jungkook just couldn’t bring himself to see her off, and he had already said his goodbyes after helping her pack for her move.

Jungkook swirled his cup around, the ice slowly melting in the plastic cup.

She was the one that had introduced him to the bitter taste of Americanos.

The first time the bitter liquid was introduced to his taste buds was a memory Jungkook recalled with a smile. He had spent nearly the entire day with her studying for a final exam in the library. After a few hours of her fidgeting, Jungkook had decided he had enough and sent her to the closest café to pick up some caffeine for the late night that was in their immediate future. The instant she set the drinks on the table, Jungkook immediately took a cup and practically tried to inhale the beverage. she could only hopelessly watch as he quickly realized that he was not drinking his usual caramel macchiato – and proceeded to sputter as he regurgitated her Americano. To say his tastebuds did not take the beverage well is an understatement.

He had only himself to blame for letting her go, again. He should’ve fought ten times harder to stay with her the first time around despite management being against their relationship, he just didn’t think they would go as far as to wedge their way into Y/n’s mind. He should’ve fought fifty times harder this time around because it was as if fate wanted them to be together by practically handing her over on a platter. But this time he had to be the one to let her go. She was finally going to achieve her biggest dream, one she’d been fantasizing about ever since they met. He wasn’t going to be the one to hold her back, not after her sacrifice. Tears missing his cup by a hair, Jungkook sipped at his bitter drink. He couldn’t help but think about the day he met Y/n, the day that changed his life.

She caught his eye in dance.

No one could deny Jungkook was terribly shy when he was young. And the fact that he had a crush mortified him. But she was just, stunning. Others in the class could easily refute him and say there were better girls in the school, more talented, better looking, more popular. But Jungkook wasn’t looking for spectacular, he wanted something more… normal. And she was just what he was looking for. The third week of dance was the day she caught his eye. The way she nervously fidgeted with the hem of her shirt as she stepped away from the wall when the teacher asked her to demonstrate for the class. her dancing took his breath away. Although it was a little rough around the edges, it was still beautiful to see nonetheless. The fluid movement of her limbs and the playful push and pull of different emotions going into each move caught his attention, but it was the intense glint in her eye that stole his breath. She meticulously evaluated her fluid movements, leaving no minor detail unnoticed and almost no room for error. Once her demonstration had ended, he was sold the second his eyes met hers in the mirror, and the cold intensity in her eyes instantly melted into a gentle warmth. Jungkook knew he was a goner when she approached him immediately after to ask–

“Is this seat taken?”

Jungkook’s eyes snapped from the diminishing contents of his cup to meet a pair of gentle eyes that almost threw him five years into the past. Although it felt as if time around them slowed, the reaction within him was immediate. His palms started to sweat, his heart started to soar, and he gulped his caffeinated drink from utter shock. Much of the baby fat that used to be on her cheeks had disappeared, leaving a small, defined face. Their uniform had been replaced with a casual outfit fit for a long period of sitting. Shoulder length hair had grown to the woman’s midsection. Years had gone by, but the small dimple in her smile was still there. The ring he had given her their first year of high school peeked through the opening of her blouse.

“Y/n.” Jungkook blurted in a daze as she promptly perched herself by Jungkook’s side on the park bench

“Jungkook.” Y/n giggled, adoration dripping from her voice.

“You- you shouldn’t be here. Your plane should be leaving any min-“

“I couldn’t take the job.” Y/n shrugged, taking the cup from Jungkook’s hand and happily sipping her favorite drink.

“Wha- why?” Jungkook sputtered. What happened? Did they take back the offer?

“If you love someone, set them free. If they come back, it’s meant to be.” She replied, smiling softly while looking into the eyes of her first love.

Those were the exact words Hoseok told Jungkook when Y/n broke up with him. It didn’t take much thought to guess where Y/n heard that from. If Jungkook’s memory served him correctly, Hoseok had taken quite the liking toward Y/n and he had practically taken her in as a little sister.

“I-“ Unable to form words, Jungkook resorted to acting on instinct. Taking both sides of her head gently, he quickly crushed his lips to hers in hopes of conveying all his feelings in a desperate, but passionate kiss. Although stunned, she quickly gathered her wits to move her lips against his in a fiery dance. Jungkook reveled in everything he could take in about her. The faint taste of the caffeine on her lips, the sweet smell of caramel from her perfume, skin that was smooth to the touch and hair that was silkier than velvet. Reluctantly, the pair pulled away from each other, looking deeply into each other’s eyes.

“Well, that’s one way to start a relationship.” Y/n said, pulling Jungkook out of his trance and wiping the tears trekking down his face lovingly.

He blinked curiously, needing a moment to process what she said. A smile broke out on Y/n’s response to the bunny-like smile that cracked on Jungkook’s face, which was soon followed by laughter. Realizing that Y/n hadn’t changed at all after all these years, Jungkook pulled Y/n in again for a gentle, caffeinated kiss.

Maybe americanos were sweet after all.

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adorkablephil · 6 years

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Fic: The Roles We Play (9/11)

Title: The Roles We Play Summary: Dan Howell and Phil Lester work together as voice actors for BBC radio dramas in the late 1930s, but slowly begin to develop “inappropriate” feelings for each other Rating: G Word Count: 5,266 (this chapter) Tags: Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Historical AU, 1930s, BBC, Radio, Actors AU, Slow Burn, Love Letters, Past Character Death, Grief, Angst Author’s Note: This fic was inspired by the @phanfichallenge 20k History Challenge. A bazillion thanks, as always, to my amazing beta, India! Those of you who were pleased to finally see a letter from Dan in the last chapter, you should enjoy this.

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[ All Chapters Masterlist ]

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Chapter 9: Dan

15 July 1939

Dan felt as if he might vibrate out of his skin, his nervousness was so great when he went to the BBC for their broadcast the next afternoon. This would be the first time he had seen Phil since receiving his letter. He had posted his own reply a mere hour ago, and so Phil would, of course, not have received it yet and surely must be in a state of extreme anxiety regarding how his words had been received. He had taken such a chance in writing to Dan, more of a chance than Dan thought he would have been able to take himself, and Dan could not help but feel grateful for Phil’s courage in the face of this difficult situation.

When he entered the room at the BBC, Phil was not yet there, so Dan took a seat and waited with a mounting mixture of excitement and nervousness. When, at last, Phil entered the room, his eyes immediately sought out Dan’s, and their gazes met like crashing waves, like cymbals ringing against each other, and it seemed absurd that no one else in the room was aware of that momentous second in time.

Phil’s eyes widened, as he no doubt knew from Dan’s expression that his letter had been received. He bit his lip and looked down at the floor, seeking his seat in what looked like a paroxysm of anxiety.

He did not meet Dan’s eyes again until the tones that indicated the start of the broadcast, and then he hesitantly looked up through his lashes and their gazes held. Phil looked so hopeful and vulnerable. Dan gave him a small smile, and it seemed to reassure him, as Dan saw Phil heave a sigh as his shoulders dropped from where they’d been hovering around his ears.

Throughout the entire broadcast, Phil glanced repeatedly to meet Dan’s eyes again and again, his own confidence seeming to grow with each encouraging smile.

When the broadcast was over, Dan asked casually, “Care to stop by the pub?” and Phil actually blushed.

Neither of them made any reference to the letter or its contents, but they chatted over drinks at the pub with a new tension between them.

******

18 July 1939

While practicing the piano in his flat, Dan was surprised to hear a knock at his front door. When he opened the door, he found Phil waiting with hands hooked awkwardly into his trouser pockets. He still looked as debonair as ever, with his shining hair and noble features, his slightly ill-fitting expensive suit, but he also seemed adorably shy. He’d never shown up at Dan’s door unannounced like this before.

He must have received Dan’s response to his letter. He must know now that Dan returned his feelings, that Dan felt the same depth of emotion and wanted the same romantic connection.

But neither of them could say anything to that effect. It was unlikely that anyone would report them to the police for an offhand comment, or that they would be officially investigated even if that did happen, but the slightest scandal could destroy both their careers, and so they would need to exercise the utmost caution.

“The weather is quite fine today,” Phil said, color high on his cheekbones. “I wondered if you might like to take a walk through the park.”

Dan grinned with a rush of giddy delight. “Let me grab my coat.”

And so they walked along the paths of Hyde Park, commenting on this and that, everything and nothing. Just two young gentlemen out for a stroll. Nothing scandalous or unusual about that at all. But they both knew that the world of thoughts and feelings between them that could not be spoken were clear with every hesitant glance and nervous smile.

******

21 July 1939

Phil suggested that they attend the London Symphony Orchestra, and Dan felt flattered. He knew Phil did not appreciate music as much as he himself did, and so it was clearly an attempt to please Dan. The fact that Phil even thought to do so meant a great deal to him, as it showed his thoughtfulness, how much he cared.

They dressed in their best finery, and Phil looked quite stunningly handsome. His tailor had cut his tuxedo much better than his suits for daily wear, or perhaps it had been a different tailor entirely, for this garment made him look like one of the most elegant Hollywood film stars. Dan stood gaping at him when Phil arrived on his doorstep until Phil cleared his throat uncomfortably and asked, “Do I not look all right?”

“You look,” Dan stopped to search for words, but could find none that were sufficient. “You look like a star, freshly fallen from the sky,” he finally said, then cringed at his own words. But the sudden bashful smile on Phil’s face made his own embarrassment worth it.

When they arrived at the concert hall and received their programs, Dan perused the selection of pieces that the orchestra would be playing that evening. He and Phil found their seats, and Phil leaned close to Dan’s shoulder to point at an item in the program. The scent of his skin and the warmth of his body made Dan’s breath catch, and he almost did not hear what Phil was saying. But he realized that Phil was pointing at the line that said, “Ludwig van Beethoven, Bagatelle No. 25 in A minor.”

“I believe this is the piece you mentioned before, is it not? The one they call ‘Für Elise’?” Phil asked, sounding uncertain but hopeful. “This was the piece that made you want to learn piano, right? I thought you might like to hear it performed.”

Dan turned to look at Phil, moved that Phil had remembered such a small detail, and found their faces very close together. Phil was still pressed close to Dan’s side where he had leaned to point out the item in the program, and they both froze. After what felt like several minutes but must have been mere seconds, Phil pulled back so that he was sitting upright and looked around them, but no one seemed to have noticed anything untoward.

Dan looked down at the program in his hand, at the listing of Beethoven’s composition that meant so much to Dan personally. He thought again of Phil’s birthday gift of piano lessons that had been bringing Dan such fulfillment after so many years of hopeless longing.

So many years of hopeless longing.

He looked at Phil.

“Thank you,” he said softly.

Phil smiled. “I thought you would like it.”

Dan let everything he felt show in his eyes as he replied, “I love it.”

******

23 July 1939

Dan sat down to write another letter to Phil. It was nearly painful to see him nearly every day and yet be unable to speak of these intense emotions between them. And yet, at the same time, he did not know if he would even know what to do or say if they were to address the issue directly. And so he put his thoughts onto the page once more.

23 July 1939

Dearest Philip,

I live for your letters, and every moment I spend in your presence I wish to speak my feelings aloud but know I mustn’t. No one would understand the beauty of what we experience together.

For most of my life, I have known that I was different, that I was somehow defective, and that is why I did not marry. I tried to hide my deficiency from the world, for I did not want anyone to know that something was so very wrong with me.

But that night when you held my hand in yours on the grass beneath the stars, I knew in my very soul that this was in no way wrong. Nothing in my entire life has felt so right as the perfection of that moment. When I received your first letter and realized that you shared my feelings, my heart took flight as if seeking yours through the aether, and I think it has not returned to my body yet as it wishes only to reside with you.

Yours with great joy and the utmost happiness, Daniel

After sealing and addressing the envelope, Dan sat contemplatively holding it in his lap for a long moment.

He knew he could not marry Dora. He could never truly love her, and his feelings for Phil had only proven that more thoroughly than he had already known it before. And yet … his family expected certain things from him. A family. Children. A certain role in society. He had been raised to obey his parents and avoid embarrassing them in any way.

He looked at the letter in his hands and knew that what he perceived as joy, they would perceive as shame.

He knew he must end his engagement—it was a farce when he felt these feelings for Phil—but he felt pressure from not only his family but also the entire society around them. The old, familiar questions arose for him: How could he live an authentic life in an absurd world full of ridiculous rules? Why couldn’t society around them simply allow him and Phil to be together without these illogical laws and unnecessary expectations?

He wished he had not yet sealed the letter, for he had felt such joy upon finishing it, such bliss when signing his name, that he wished he could reread it to find that joy again. In that moment, as he held the envelope in his hand, he felt the world pressing around him on all sides so acutely that it seemed to crush the brilliant diamond of his elation, destroying it, until it simply slipped through his desperate fingers like so much sand.

******

8 August 1939 – 15 August 1939

8 August 1939

My dearest,

You write that you are falling, that I must catch you in my arms. I fear to tell you that I, too, fall further and deeper with every passing day. Perhaps, in falling together, we may find some safe landing that cradles us both in safety and love.

While we may both be falling, in using that word, love, I alone take a voluntary, terrifying leap into that fall. In the salutations of your letters, you have called me your beloved, but you have not used that word in the body of what you write.

I will hold back the words no longer, as I have felt them in my soul for many months now, long before our precious hours beneath the sheltering willow trees. I love you. This love is not new to me, for I have held it close and private through many hours at the club, many radio rehearsals and broadcasts, many conversations you may have considered only friendly.

This admission frightens me, for I fear that these feelings between us may be new to you and so you may pity me the longevity of my silent devotion.

I end this letter in some anxiety about your response, but, as always, yours, Daniel

11 August 1939

My most beloved Daniel,

I do love you. I love you most ardently, and these feelings are not new. I, too, have gazed at you with longing in my heart and wished that I might hold you close, but I did not believe you would welcome such attentions, and so I hid my emotions as best I could.

I hide them no longer. I do love you. I love you with every beat of my heart, every breath of my lungs.

I love you. I love you. I love you. Never doubt it.

Most devotedly yours, Philip

15 August 1939

My Dearest Philip,

Your most recent letter is the dearest possession I shall ever have in my life, and I shall cherish it always, forever keeping it close to me for the rest of my days.

You love me as I love you, and this thought is a revelation, a blessing, a miracle for which I shall never cease to be grateful. The universe has bestowed upon me the most beautiful of wonders in granting me your love, and I hope that the poor heart I offer you in return may in some way repay the grace you have granted me.

Ardently, Your loving Daniel

******

28 August 1939

While they played chess at Phil’s club, Dan’s fingers accidentally brushed Phil’s as they both reached for popcorn. They both looked up from the board, and their eyes met and held. Every word they had written but not spoken hovered between them like an intoxicating mist of emotion.

Phil bit his lip and looked back down at the board, pulling his hand away without having taken any popcorn at all, as if he had forgotten what he had been in the midst of doing. Dan worried for a moment that Phil might be regretting their time together, the letters he’d written, the promises he’d made—Dan’s mind raced with horrible scenarios.

And then Phil looked up at him from beneath his lashes and smiled shyly, and Dan’s heart calmed. They were true to each other. They may not have said the words aloud, but they were nonetheless true.

Dan smiled at Phil in return, and they turned back to their game as if nothing of import had transpired. And, in the eyes of all those around them, nothing had.

******

2 September 1939 – 6 September 1939

2 September 1939

Most Beloved Daniel,

If I may be so bold as to ask, when did you first become aware of your affection for me? I must admit that I am curious. For my own part, I know that I had admired you from our first meeting but only became aware of the extent of my attachment when you informed me of your engagement. I must admit that in that moment I was struck through the heart and knew not what to say. I had not realized how deeply I had come to care for you before I heard those words from your lips.

I apologize for leaving so abruptly the next day, and with no word to you, but I felt a desperate need for the comfort of my loving family beside me when I felt such distress. I hope you will not feel guilt that I reacted thus, for I am certain you had no idea that your words or their import would so deeply affect me, but I had great need of the affection and warmth of my mother, especially, in those difficult days. As you know, she is a deeply loving person, and I felt a terrible longing for such comfort at that time, as I was then convinced that you could never love me as I then realized that I loved you. I felt hopeless, lost, a boat without a mooring, adrift in a love that had no end in sight and no possibility of reciprocity.

The fact that you now profess such emotions for me is a gift I could never have predicted, expected, or even hoped for. I am grateful every day, every moment, for the love you have offered me.

Devotedly yours, Philip

Dan himself felt struck through the heart by Phil’s words. The letter offered no blame regarding Dan’s engagement to Dora, no requests or expectations, but Dan knew that this continuing commitment must still cause Phil pain, and that knowledge itself caused Dan pain in turn.

Surely this situation could not continue, and yet Dan could not bring himself to disappoint and shame his family by ending the longstanding engagement. Such an action would not only disappoint Dora but put her into an awkward social position, and their two families would surely cease all friendly interaction. In such a small village, this strife would cause everyone involved a great deal of discomfort and difficulty.

Dan could not find the strength to cause so much disruption and unhappiness to so many people he had known his entire life. And yet the dishonesty he had hidden for so long had now grown even more acute.

This internal conflict could not continue indefinitely, but Dan had no idea how he could resolve it without causing pain to someone he cared about. Perhaps there was, in fact, no way to do so. He dropped his head into his hands and despaired.

But Phil had asked him a question, and Dan owed him an answer. He took up his pen.

6 September 1939

My dearest,

You ask when I first became aware of the depth of my feelings for you, when I first realized that the flutterings in my heart bespoke love and not merely friendly affection, and I think you will be surprised by my answer.

Looking back with honest eyes, I can see that my regard for you began turning toward love during our very first meeting. When you whispered to me that you would prefer to play Puck in our production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, I began to fall. In that moment, knowing so little of you except the kindness and humor in your eyes—the boyish, playful longings we both shared—I fell. I did not see it immediately—I knew only that I valued your company above all others, that I longed for your admiration and attention—but I can now see that those feelings were the earliest stirrings of this enduring devotion.

Will you think me frivolous, that I developed such an attachment so quickly? I can assure you that it had never happened before. It was you. Simply you. I saw you, spoke with you, and my heart knew it had found its match, its one and only true partner among all others in the world.

No other exists for me but you.

With ardent affection, Daniel

Dan put the pen down on the desk and reread the letter before addressing the envelope. “No other exists for me but you,” he had written, and yet he continued to promise himself to another. As he addressed the envelope, writing that most beloved name, he felt disgust at his own hypocrisy.

******

20 September 1939

They walked out of the cinema together after watching “The Man They Could Not Hang,” which was the scariest of the films they’d seen together thus far.

“I rather wish I could take your arm and huddle up against you to keep away the monsters,” Dan joked, then noticed guiltily when Phil glanced around them. Was he nervous that someone may have heard what Dan had said? “I’m just teasing,” Dan said more loudly, trying to set things right. Phil looked at him in confusion.

This was going all wrong. He needed to just behave naturally. The problem was that his natural inclinations now, after all they had to written to each other, were to curl up against Phil like a kitten, and that just wouldn’t do. Not in private, and certainly not on the pavement in front of the cinema.

They never spoke of those written words, those truths too private to risk exposure to the world. Their eyes might betray their feelings if anyone had known to look, but they hid their secrets well.

“Shall I walk you home?” Phil suggested. “I can catch a taxi from there.” Dan nodded, and they began walking side by side in the direction of Dan’s flat. Their steps were slow, neither of them wanting to rush toward the moment when they must part. Occasionally, they cast glances at each other, smiling when their eyes met. Dan chuckled and ducked his head shyly the third or fourth time it happened. They were like lovers in a film or book, unable to keep their eyes off each other … like nothing Dan had ever experienced in the real world before this.

“Should I not look at you?” Phil asked, and Dan couldn’t tell whether he was joking or not.

Dan glanced around to see no one else nearby before saying quietly, “I like when you look at me.” He could feel his cheeks heat with his blush, but was glad that the lamplight would not be bright enough to make his embarrassment obvious.

Though if there was anyone he was comfortable being that vulnerable with, it was Phil.

He jumped slightly when he felt Phil’s hand brush his lightly, as if by chance. He looked at Phil, who smiled at him and said simply, “Me, too.”

They walked in near silence until a light rain began to fall when they were not far from Dan’s flat. “Blast!” Phil exclaimed when the rain began to fall more heavily. “I don’t have an umbrella. I’ll have the devil’s time finding a taxi on the street in this rain!”

They both broke into a trot. “Come in and phone a taxi from my flat,” Dan suggested as they jogged, his hair flattening to his head as the rain ruined his carefully styled slick hairstyle. At least in this kind of rain, his hair would be too soggy to spring into its natural curls and utterly shame him.

When they arrived at the flat, Dan opened the door quickly and they both rushed inside, drenched to the skin. After their sprint, they were both breathing heavily. They turned to look at each other, both soaking wet, and broke into laughter. Dan pushed his hair out of his face and saw Phil do the same.

Phil removed his spectacles, complaining, “These things are useless in the rain, and then they promptly fog up when I enter a warm room!” He tucked them into his shirt pocket and then pushed his hair back again before letting his eyes rest on Dan and stay there.

Cold droplets of water were dripping from Dan’s hair onto his sensitive neck, and it made him shiver. He tried to keep his voice light as he joked, “Without your spectacles, I must look like only a blur right now.”

“A beautiful blur,” Phil replied with a smile. “And perhaps it only means I need to come closer.”

This stepped beyond their usual flirting into potentially dangerous territory, and so Dan said brightly, “Let’s get you that taxi,” a little embarrassed by how breathy his voice sounded. But Phil rested a hand on his arm again, just enough to keep Dan from turning away. He looked into Phil’s pale eyes, so striking without his spectacles, and found he couldn’t break the connection, extremely aware of the feel of Phil’s gentle touch and the harsh sound of their combined breathing in the silent entryway.

Suddenly, Dan felt a rush of bravery and asked hesitantly, “Would you like to … you could take your coat off and dry your hair. You could … stay a while. We could talk.”

Phil gazed at him mutely in surprise at this unexpected invitation, then smiled tentatively and nodded.

Dan showed him in and took his coat, which was soaking wet from the rain. He hung it on a peg near the front door, along with Phil’s scarf and his own coat. Then he and Phil stood awkwardly near the entryway, neither knowing what to say. They had previously avoided such potentially scandalous privacy, but at this moment, Dan simply could not force himself to ask Phil to leave.

Eyeing Phil’s wet clothing, Dan said, “We seem to wear a similar size. Would you like to borrow some dry clothes? You might be more comfortable. If you don’t find it overly forward, that is.” Suddenly overcome with embarrassment, Dan waved his hands and looked down at the floor, feeling humiliated that he had suggested something so inappropriate. “In fact, never mind. I’ve obviously overstepped.”

But then he felt Phil’s finger lifting his chin so that their eyes met again. “Some dry clothes would be lovely. I thank you very much for the kindness of the offer.” He seemed a bit stiff, perhaps nervous, but smiled.

Dan hunched his shoulders slightly in embarrassment for overreacting and nodded, probably more than was strictly necessary. Then he fled to his bedroom to fetch some dry clothes for Phil. He chose some wool trousers and a warm, fleecy jumper, wanting Phil to feel comfortable in his home. They could build a fire, as well.

When he returned to the lounge, he found Phil standing awkwardly in the center of the room. “I didn’t want to sit,” Phil explained. “I didn’t want to get your furniture wet.”

“Oh!” Dan exclaimed, embarrassed again. “Of course! Let me … I’ll get you a towel … and here are some dry clothes.” He held the clothes out to Phil, who took them and held them carefully away from his drenched body. Dan fetched a towel and showed Phil where to find the toilet so that he could dry off and change into the borrowed clothing.

Phil emerged a few moments later looking much less posh than usual, and Dan was surprisingly moved by the sight of Phil in the more casual garments, primarily because Dan had worn those familiar clothes so many times himself. It somehow felt extremely intimate—this sharing—even if it was only a few pieces of cloth against skin. Phil gestured to himself and said, smiling, “You were right. Your clothes fit me quite well.”

“Let me start a fire in the grate,” Dan suggested, but Phil stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Leave the fire to me,” Phil insisted. “You should go change into some dry clothes yourself. You look half frozen.”

“Oh,” Dan said, looking down at himself. He’d forgotten that he, too, was soaking wet, so focused was he on Phil’s comfort. “Of course. I’ll go change. Back in a moment.” And he fled the room where Phil looked so tempting with his tousled hair and borrowed jumper.

There was no way to salvage his hair, simply no way at all, and so Dan simply toweled it until it was no longer dripping and decided that he would have to allow Phil to see his hair in its wavy natural state, as the Brylcreem could no longer hold it in place properly after being so thoroughly exposed to the pouring rain. He changed into some comfortable clothes, including a black jumper that was quite soft and, he hoped, looked quite handsome on him, even though he was embarrassed by his desire to look attractive for Phil.

But why should he be embarrassed? They had expressed their mutual feelings. He knew that Phil shared his attraction, his love. Taking a deep breath to fortify himself, he returned to the lounge, where Phil was crouched in front of the grate, stoking the fire. Phil turned to look at him, and his eyes roamed from Dan’s stocking feet to his damp, wavy hair, and then back down again. Dan shivered under that heated gaze.

“I think the fire will warm the room quickly,” Phil said, returning to standing. As they stood there again, facing each other uncomfortably, Dan frantically wracked his brain for some way to make this all less awkward.

“Shall we sit?” Dan suggested. “Or I could … I could play the piano for you. You could hear the results of your birthday present. I mean, I haven’t improved tremendously, but … never mind.” He could feel his face heat. “Oh, I’m a disaster,” he moaned, laughing at himself, safe in the knowledge that Phil would not judge him.

Phil stepped closer and slowly wrapped his arms around Dan, a far gentler embrace than the masculine hugs they had occasionally exchanged over the course of their friendship. Dan leaned into Phil’s body and wrapped his arms around Phil’s waist, leaning his head down to rest on Phil’s shoulder. “I would love to hear you play,” Phil said quietly. “But I would much more, at least for tonight, prefer to sit with you in my arms, if that would not make you uncomfortable.”

Dan lifted his head to look into Phil’s face, once again bespectacled, and replied softly, “I would like that very much.”

And so they settled onto the sofa, cuddled together, and listened to each other’s quiet breathing and heartbeats for a long time.

******

26 September 1939

The morning after his evening in Phil’s arms, Dan woke with a feeling of peace that he had not felt in a long time, perhaps ever. He knew that they had not broken the letter of the law that forbade a man loving another man, and yet they had violated the spirit of that law.

But he felt that he could not believe in a law that prohibited something of such beauty and joy.

And so, one morning a few days later, he sat down at his desk and composed another letter to Phil. Like the letter in which he had first declared his love, this one took a great chance, for he did not know if Phil would likewise be willing to hazard this risk, but for his own happiness—and Phil’s own, he hoped—he considered the emotional jeopardy worth the potential gain.

26 September 1939

My dearest Philip,

I have given this a great deal of thought, and so I do not wish you to think that I take this matter lightly. I know that it would involve some amount of risk to both our reputations, and I respect the fact that you may not consider that danger worthwhile, but allow me to suggest that perhaps there is no reason that two young men—friends and colleagues—might spend time alone together upon occasion in each other’s homes. None would, I think, see anything amiss in such behavior.

I do not, of course, propose any activities illegal or immoral, but I found our recent evening together at my house to be so delightful in its privacy that I have decided to take the chance of suggesting that other such evenings might be possible.

If I have given offense, I apologize, for I do not wish you to believe me harboring inappropriate intentions. I simply believe that an evening as lovely as that which we shared cannot be in any way wrong. I hope that you will not blame me for feeling so.

In some anxiety, Daniel

Dan sealed the letter, not giving himself any time to doubt himself or possibly change his mind. He addressed the envelope quickly and immediately walked to the postbox on the corner, where he deposited the letter with a shaking hand.

There. It was done. Either their relationship would change, allowing for more privacy and intimacy, or Phil would chastise him for daring to suggest that he might be willing to behave in such a scandalous fashion, simply because it had happened once by chance.

He returned home, knowing that in the evening he would see Phil, all innocent of the behavior Dan had so boldly proposed. Dan looked at his trembling hands and wondered if Phil would be able to read his nervousness without even needing to read the letter itself.

In a few days, the letter would arrive, and then Dan would see Phil again, and he would know.

******

[ Continue to Chapter 10 ]

#phanfiction #phanfic #phan #phanfiction historical #phanfic historical #historical au #phanfiction au #phanfic au #historical phanfiction #historical phanfic #1930s phan #the roles we play #myphanfic

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newyearnewmebitches · 4 years

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7/13/2020, 20:47

I feel like I'm in a bit an emotional rut. a part of me feels really bittersweet and empty leaving my current job, and I think I just want to free write my feelings to see where it’ll take me. so here’s a 30 minute long written rant about my feelings, maybe I'll discover something.

So, I think this starts with my feelings over my unit, and when I first started there. I remember looking at the iCU unit as something that was so tight knit, and I envied the support on that unit. and when I joined, in was so excited to integrate myself, become a strong nurse and to be a role model for new, upcoming people. and obviously, as I started there, faces started coming in and out. the initial year of me being there, was a golden year for me. I loved the people I worked with, there was a nice balance of new nurses and older nurses, and despite a hard night, it felt like we were all in it together. it felt really special. a lot of the days I'd leave at 9AM-10am, and we’d be incredibly short staffed, and although I was burned out, I felt happy to be where I was.

during the past year was when it think I noticed a shift in my mood towards work. a lot of new faces were coming in, and the faces that I've grown with were leaving. and there’s nothing wrong with that, I feel like the demographic and mix of nurses in a unit should always be evolving- cause growth duh. but I think Spuh’s biggest selling point as a hospital is the family appeal and the close-knit units that keep people there- because it’s definitely not the pay lol. I think after getting certified, I felt comfortable to apply to other places, but I still felt too attached to st. peter’s to leave completely.

then this pandemic hit, and I truly started to ... like working again despite the crisis and burnout. but the sense of team work and community on the unit was at an all-time high as our staff, float staff and agency workers joined together for a common cause. it’s was truly inspiring, and I loved the energy, of being there for each other through the loss and wins. I think I definitely ride on the emotional highs and lows way too much that’s just my empathetic soul, aint it?

this next rant is probably a deep dive to say, but working greg, one of our most long lasting agency nurses, is also what kept my morale relatively constant throughout the past year. when I first met him, it’s obvious to say, I had the biggest crush on him. and as I got to work with him, he was just such a reassuring person to work with, that if I needed something in a sense of urgency, he’d have my back. we’d help each other. and it’d be seamless. I didn’t need to ask. he’d always check on me. I'd check on him, and the energy just felt so reciprocated. he’d teach me things, we’d talk. and wow, he’s just such a good person. he’s taken, but even with that, it didn’t deter me. he’s just a person I haven’t encountered in a long time- and I think he’s truly rare- someone who’s just so selfless despite having a strong back bone, strong, kind, polite and overwhelmingly helpful and confident. he was such a joy to work with and every shift I was with him I knew we’d make it. we’re not fully friends outside the work environment- which is fine. I view him as the highest level of work support, and it’s this kind of cocmoradery that it think I need to keep me going onward. he's just such a precious soul, and I've never heard anyone speak ill of him. 2 nights ago was his last shift, and although I am also leaving, it's bittersweet acknowledging that this is our last shift working together. truly, such a great guy. and I wish him the best, as well as hoping we stay in touch.

I think I started finally fully realizing how toxic the culture at work was starting to get as I was leaving and over the past couple months. I think I shoved it off my shoulder most the times, but I think now it’s starting to get me. which is why leaving now, and realizing that, feels so bittersweet.

I'm overly friendly, and have become quite friendly with the residents. well some of them. and I guess at times, it’s overcedes the air if professionalism we need to maintain at work. and you know what, that’s absolutely true. residents come to Icu on days they’re not on the schedule to hang out, talking pictures at work, laughing loud at night. yeah, it’s a good time working. but retrospective, if I had a loved one at work and I noticed it, I'd be upset that my loved one was being taken care of in that kind environment. it take balance to be friends but also stay profesisonal- and that IMPORTANT. we’re care givers. we’re taking care of people in their most critical time, although not everyone is active dying and are “sick stable”, and there might not be anything to do, we need to keep a professional face for the respect of our patients and the face of our career. I guess with that intro delves with the upcoming and me recognizing I'm at fault.

during the past few months, rose has been telling me, “behave at night, people are watching you.” and she was vague and I was just like how? who? what did I do? she wasn’t very specific. one night I posted a story on my IG of casidhe doing a split, and someone approached her the next day saying, “be careful of what you post on the internet, there are people watching you.” I asked her who, and she said it was Amy. so from there, I blocked Amy. although we were friends, I didn’t need someone to watch my stories and cause a fuss. I started to talk about it on nights, saying yeah. with rose saying, people are watching you, I figured Amy was one of day-shift Karens that killed wholesome fun, that wasn’t really impeding my credibility as nurse by something so miniscule. then covid hit and one shift where me and Dominique had time to drink water, I posted a silly 30 sec. but of us chugging water as a challenge, since we wear our masked the entire time. and you know at this point, people were MAKING TIKTOKS at work. it’s not like posting on social media * as long as it doesn’t violate hippa- there should be no problem. the next day, Ashlyn posted the same thing. and Dom told me, and I thought they were mocking us. so I posted it again with her captioned “the OGs”.

--- this back story delves into a confrontation I received at 3AM on a night I was working from Amy. where she goes, “I'm refollowing just so you know I blocked you because I heard you were talking shit.” and that specifically is accurate- because of what she said to casidhe, and all was saying was along the lines of how she was watching my story. she continued to bring up how she was being petty and I also admitted I was being petty. and she said she didn’t understand why it was like this because she thought we’d have each other backs. she said for example, there were so many things I've done as a nurse that she could’ve verged that she didn’t. that’s what got in my fucking head. because I validate myself the most by being a good nurse. at the end of this 3AM confrontation we agreed to a truce.

nights later at work, her comment on the the verge-abie things got to me head, since I'm embarking on a new job. I questioned if I was a good nurse, if I had what it took and if I was just too overly confident in myself. I started feeling like the unit that I had been a part of for 3 years that was my “home” was being fake to me, and that no one was ever transparent with me. and that’s when I got upset and started speaking to other night nurses. my new anm Natalie, mentioned this was harassment and bullying and that I should talk with my manager about it. truly I felt scared confronting about Amy because she’s such a credible nurse, and I always respected her as a nurse. that no one would take my aside, understand or empathize. my feelings were literally like, I'm leaving let’s leave it at all that. I'm done with the BS. but still, I felt so unloved by my unit if anything, just extremely expendable. to feel like the place I gave so much of heart too gave no shit back at me, sucked. to feel unsupportive. as a whole. sucked.

I don’t know if it’s just in my head. if I take things to hard. I low key thing about “how would greg handle this?” because he’s just such a strong person as a nurse, and one morning we talked and he mentioned there was a time when he hated nursing and being in a toxic environment got to him- that helped me reframed things. he’s only been here for a year, so even though Spuh is so “close” doesn’t mean I can’t be toxic. I confronted Amy about how her comment made me feel, and she admitted that she was to drunk and regretted making that comment. that felt a little better. but still, I was harassed. I felt sad. I felt upset about work. and truly her comment made me question so much about my job that I had held in such value.

I know I overanalyze things too much, and that’s my down side. but it’s hard to let things to, I think overly caring is what also makes me a good nurse and makes me want to constantly improve, I just need to not take things so personal. and I think that goes hand in hand with feeling to comfortable at Spuh. taking things as professional critiques mistakenly got too personal, thus deeply affecting me. I think being cognizant of that is important. and moving forward take this as a lesson will help me succeed at Mount Sinai.

I will still miss Spuh for what is, and love it for all that it has taught me. especially this. initially it taught me how to be a nurse, and this lesson is teaching me how to have a back bone and stand up for myself. which is a long overdue lesson. even thinking back to when I was bullied when I was younger, I never stood up for myself.i was passive.

I won’t be fucking passive anymore. I need to stand up for myself.

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geneticandunattainable · 7 years

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Here we are - the top ten songs of 2016 Again, women continue to dominate this year’s list, with half of the top ten songs performed by female artists. These are the songs that have dominated my ears for the entire year and I contend that they are all intricately crafted slices of musical genius. Even if you don’t love every single track, I hope you can find some joy in this list.

10. Maggie Rogers – “Alaska”

The launch of this song’s popularity is likely unprecedented even in today’s sonic landscape, obsessed as it is with viral hits and internet culture. She was lucky enough to have a Masterclass with Pharrell Williams while she was at NYU, and played the unfinished version of this song…to his immediate and obvious delight. He called her sound “singular” and had no criticism for her whatsoever; the most impressive part was that she wrote it in 15 minutes and recorded it the same day with her co-producer Doug Schadt, also an alum of the Clive Davis Institute. There’s a real coming-of-age tone to the song, discussing a break up and life transitions in a way that comes across more as hopeful than melancholy. The production is clearly electronic, but grounded, as she utilizes natural sounds to construct the instrumentation. There is simply so much to enjoy in this track, from the harmonies to the lyrics to the, yes, singular arrangement. Here’s hoping she continues to surprise us with her EP, due this spring.

9. Foxes – “Scar”

Louisa Rose Allen – better known by her stage name Foxes – isn’t particularly well known in the States. That didn’t stop her from releasing one of the most underrated pop albums of 2016 with All I Need. Her vocals are simultaneously raspy and soaring, with the driving beat in the production instantly catchy, but the lyrics are what truly stand out. I briefly dated someone back in June of 2015, and it ended abruptly when he got upset one night and threw me against a wall in his house. Besides the trauma of the incident itself, it brought up a lot of painful memories from my childhood, and it was difficult for me to move past the incident. I don’t think I realized how much I needed an outlet for that anxiety until I heard this song. Allen uses the scar as a metaphor, of course, but it resonates for so many people who have some relationships they may regret in their past. With a chorus of “Now you're just a scar, a story I tell/Such an ugly mark, but I wear it so well…Now you're just a scar/A time that I fell for someone who didn't love me well,” she turns an experience that can be upsetting and shameful into a source of strength. She seems to be telling the listener, “You got through this, and it made you better.” I know I, for one, needed that.

8. Bob Moses – “Tearing Me Up (RAC Mix)”

If you’re ever looking for a solid Canadian electronic duo, then these guys should be on your list. Tom Howie and Jimmy Vallance attended middle and high school together in Vancouver, but were merely acquaintances until they both got into the New York music scene and ran into each other at a hardware store. They combined their two musical scenes – rock and trance – to work on their own alternative electronic sound together. The original form of this song, released on 2015, was nominated for a Grammy in the dance genre. Released in February of last year, the RAC remix of the track scored an eventual Grammy win at the 2017 ceremony; once you listen to it, it becomes quite obvious why the remix was necessary for the win. The remix cuts over two and a half minutes from the running time, streamlining the arrangement and focusing more on the vocals. Percussion and guitar hit you from the first note, and you get to the lyrics within the first 20 seconds. Portland resident André Allen Anjos – also known as RAC – adds radiant synths and some gorgeous finger basses, creating a lush atmosphere for the arrangement, and expanding upon the initially minimal track. The end result is nothing but exquisitely crafted music. You’ll forget what the world was like before you heard it, because this is one that stays with you forever.

7. Hamilton Leithauser + Rostam – “In a Black Out”

Rostam Batmanglij is an alumnus of Vampire Weekend who has been making a name for himself as a producer (you may have heard some of his work on Carly Rae Jepsen’s last album). Last year he teamed up with Hamilton Leithauser, the frontman for the Walkmen, and the result was lightning in a bottle. The two men worked together to fashion this slice of brilliance, which opens with an undulating Spanish guitar and even utilizes a small church choir to add a haunting backing vocal about ninety seconds from the start. The last minute of the song is nothing but pure joy, as Leithauser shows off his true range, crooning over an outstanding drum loop and that same guitar that seems so vintage and so perfect at the same time...at no point do they slip into pastiche of any kind. Both men are paying homage to decades of musical history while still creating a sound that is entirely their own. There’s a timely narrative to the song, telling the story of returning to an old town and the old lover that may accompany it. Some of the lyrics touch on the nostalgia of both experiences, with lines like “Midnight where we used to dance/Underneath the ugly halogen lamps/Oh, it all went away so fast/In a black out.” Few people of my age can listen to this and not feel a thing.

6. Caitlyn Smith – “This Town is Killing Me”

I connect with Caitlyn Smith on so many levels, what with her home state of Minnesota and her obsession with Patty Griffin leading her to Nashville by the age of 18. She performed at a few gigs in Music City but set her dreams aside for a bit when she signed a contact to write songs for other artists. There’s a versatility to her voice that makes her sound like no one else on the radio – country or otherwise. There are flashes of Allison Krauss on this vocal, but so many other artists, too. The vocal track is clearly meant to sound raw, emotional – genuine, in other words. Smith writes for herself in a way that I haven’t heard from other artists in Nashville or anywhere else, for that matter. She focuses on the soul-crushing side of the industry that is all too often pushing dreams of whiskey and honky tonks down our throats. Smith pens a poignantly devastating letter to Nashville, admitting defeat at the feet of a city and an industry that moves on without you. She sings of missing her grandfather’s funeral, of losing the only man she ever loved to her career, of pouring her heart out over the mic only to have the audience ignore her. As she notes in the lyrics, “no one's listening, they're too busy drinking on the company tab.” “This Town is Killing Me” is produced perfectly in a minimalist way, building ever so slightly with a slide guitar, a small strings section, and a piano to accompany her acoustic guitar; it’s clear, though, that her voice is the focal point. Perhaps the toughest part of the song is when she comes clean to how much pain the town and the job have caused her, but admits she’ll get up tomorrow and do it all over again. Several other artists may have won the attention last year, but Smith wrote the best song in country music. End of story.

5. weslee – “Gassed”

If you aren’t watching You’re the Worst, you’re not only missing out on some of the best television available anywhere in the world, you’re now missing out on some of the best music, too. There is so little known about this duo that the mystery and anonymity that surrounds them only adds to the allure. Josh and Emma (the former American, the latter English) named their duo after her pet turtle, and their first real splash was the track “Gassed,” which was looked up on Shazam over 5,000 times the night it debuted during the end titles of an episode of You’re the Worst. According to an interview on BBC a week ago, Josh claims an EP is in the works, but most of us are content to simply play this on repeat. The track is incredibly atmospheric, utilizing a hypnotic production that slowly builds anticipation through rolling crescendos that peak at each chorus. This is a song that comes across as deceptively simply, luring you in with its seductive beat, captivating vocals, and sultry synth loops. The song’s protagonist is clearly overwhelmed with her current situation, singing about changing the flow so she has the space to grow, about finding her way back home. There’s a stasis on display here, as she so clearly wants to get back home, but questions whether that’s the right choice. The entire song is electronic, but with such a grounded and quiet style, you could play it at the local nursing home and find some new fans. I sincerely hope Josh and Emma, regardless of their identities, bless us with some more brilliant music soon.

4. Ramin Djawadi– “Light of the Seven”

Of all the shows to discover mind-blowing music, I never usually think of Game of Thrones as a likely source. “Light of the Seven,” from the show’s resident composer Ramin Djawadi, is the first track in its six-year history to ever feature the piano. Along with an organ, a small string section, and two boys’ vocals, Djawadi arranges the piano and the notes to slowly build the anticipation in what can only be considered one of the best sequences in the history of the program. Djawadi explicitly wanted to tease out the tension and the mystery of the finale’s sequence, and utilized only two voices to make the environment of the song seem smaller and more intimate as the characters explore the catacombs of King’s Landing. Over the course of almost ten minutes, the song helps guide the audience through several scenes mostly absent of dialogue, accentuating specific moments with perfectly timed notes, and intensifying the strings to serves as almost a countdown to a massive climax at the end. Listeners who are paying attention will notice the recurring motifs from the theme of the show itself throughout the arrangement. With so much happening onscreen, the composition expertly weaves you in and out of multiple storylines that ultimately tie together through one character’s machinations and the brilliant work of Djawadi himself. One thing I’d like to note: “Light of the Seven” tracks in at nine minutes and forty-nine seconds, and I have listened to it over 350 times since last summer. That sums up the virtuosity of this song.

3. Kanye West – “Famous”

2016 was, for the most part, a complete and utter shitshow. That said, one of the few bright spots for me among the carnage was the one-two punch of this song and the blow Kim Kardashian delivered to Taylor Swift in front of the entire country. As Janene Garafolo would say, “The word ‘vivisection?’ A staggering understatement.” The ensuing controversy of Taylor’s mock outrage, unfortunately, nearly overshadowed the skill that ‘Ye showed off with this track. He’s showcasing Nina Simone (with Rihanna’s vocals and the original singer herself), as well as Jamaican legend Sister Nancy, Italian band Il Rovescio Della Medaglia, and hip hop artist Swizz Beatz. It is clear to anyone that he’s a genius provocateur, but also knows how to put a song together, and, along with other album highlights like “Ultralight Beam,” came back in 2016 with both arms swinging. As Pitchfork noted when it comes to his work with Sister Nancy’s “Bam Bam,” the clip “sounds like a dancehall remix of Pachelbel's Canon, and it's the most joyful two minutes of music on the album.” Kanye is upending expectations, undercutting the concept of celebrity, and giving you a banger all at the same time. Regardless of the controversies that constantly swirl around him – many of his own making – it remains clear that Kanye is one of the best artists out there, and this track more than proves it.

2. Frank Ocean – “Self Control”

I consider these top three songs to be a trifecta, a package deal that all build on each other, though only one can reign as the best of the year. Frank just missed out on the top spot this year (which he held in 2012 with “Thinkin’ Bout You,” by the way), but the perfection that was his latest album fought until the very end. Ocean along with Jon Brion and James Ryan Ho – better known by his stage name Malay – collaborated to produce this track and the despondency on display may as well be in 3D. There is a longing present in the song that wasn’t captured as well by any other artist in 2016. He starts with the braggadocious “I’ll be the boyfriend in your wet dreams tonight” but eventually collapses in on himself, hoping to be involved even if it means literally inserting himself into a new relationship, singing “Keep a place for me, for me/I'll sleep between y'all, it's nothing.” He begs to be reintroduced to his ex’s life, even devolving into looped vocals for the end of the song, pleading to have just one more night with this mystery man. There is a tragedy contained within the lyrics “Know you got someone comin'/You're spitting game, oh you got it” that I literally cannot articulate in words. There is a sense that he has been tossed aside, that he no longer matters, and Ocean capitalizes on what amounts to so many people’s biggest fear – that we will leave this life without making an impact. The desperation here is universal, and not limited to solely one relationship. It’s meant to encompass the meaning of our entire life.

1. Beyoncé – “Formation”

I have to be perfectly honest here – was there ever any fucking doubt? When you’re Beyoncé, you can drop a song on Saturday, perform it at the Super Bowl on Sunday, and the entire country already knows every single world. As Ashley Weatherford noted after its release last February, “Formation” is the blueprint to being “unapologetically black.” In a country that is, arguably, irreparably divided, Beyoncé planted her flag on the hill of her identity as an African-American woman, and could not care less if it leads to a backlash. She has faced criticism for years for being a bad feminist or not caring enough about Black Lives Matter, and this song is, in essence, presenting two middle fingers to the world as her response. When you’re the biggest star in the world, you don’t have to apologize anymore. Every single line of this track is crafted to highlight, as Dee Lovett put it, Black Girl Magic. This song is meant to embrace and to celebrate a group, a culture, a gender – an identity – that has been ignored for so long. The beat is inspired, utilizing an unnerving trap production that builds to a marching band in every chorus while also nodding to the Southern Gothic feel of the entire track. As Rembert Browne noted, this song is a reminder of Beyoncé’s core identity; “I’m a woman and I’m black, but also I’m a black woman — please don’t ever forget that, and no, you can’t touch my hair, not never.” It left an indelible mark on the entire year, and by my account, was easily 2016’s best song.

#Music #Best Songs of 2016 #Best of 2016 #Maggie Rogers #Foxes #Bob Moses #Hamilton Leithauser + Rostam #Caitlyn Smith #weslee #Ramin Djawadi #Kanye #Yesus #Kanye West #Frank Ocean #Beyoncé #Beyonce

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