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candyshua · 5 years

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Intertwined | Chapter One - Spilt Coffee

hey guys!! sorry for the inactivity. to make it up, i decided to start writing a multi-part fic!! this is a mingyu x reader x jeonghan love triangle. enjoy!!

Kim Mingyu was your best friend, your knight in shining armor, your crush, your everything. But sadly, you were not his.

After getting his girlfriend pregnant in his fourth year of college, the two of them moved away to America after graduation. And then, you were all alone.

Meet Yoon Jeonghan, your current best friend. An aspiring video game designer, he has been your rock for 5 years. He helped you through so much drama. You would be surprised to learn that he was madly in love with you.

What happens when Mingyu comes back to Korea?

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Potential Smut (I haven’t decided yet)

Warnings: Alcohol, foul language, pregnancy

Word count: 2,250

Chapter One - Spilt Coffee

Your back was starting to hurt. After sitting on that uncomfortable chair in that cramped cubicle for so long, you felt your body start to ache. You tied your hair up into a ponytail, fully aware that you weren’t going to go home until you got this stupid project done.

“Bye, Y/N!” Your boss, Wonwoo, bid to you as he walked out of his office and on to the elevator. You merely hummed him a goodbye, too preoccupied with your work.

You worked in the media department of a phone cable company. You write commercials, ads, anything that can get your product bought. It can be tedious at times, just like now. It’s especially tedious with you, since you’re the world’s biggest procrastinator. So, you’re pulling an all-nighter to finish proofreading this commercial so it can be sent to headquarters.

Sometimes, you felt disappointed with yourself. Your life amounted up to this--an office job. You also had a one bedroom apartment, which wasn’t too bad. It just never felt like home, nothing ever did.

You sighed, groaning frustratedly. “Get this done, Y/N.” You said to yourself. You then cracked your knuckles, swallowed another mouthful of coffee, and started typing away.

You arrived home at 3 AM. Lucky for you, it was a Friday.

Within minutes of arriving in your quaint apartment, you collapsed onto your couch, not even having enough energy to make it to your bedroom. You then smiled, thinking of that one time where Mingyu and you got home so late during sophomore year that you weren’t allowed to see each other for a whole month. You still saw each other anyway.

Then, you felt your heart get heavier, remembering where your dear friend Mingyu was right now. He’s in America, with his kid, and his girlfriend. Hell, she’s probably his wife now.

And you’re stuck here, in Korea, with no boyfriend, car, or family. You have your parents, but they’re too busy worrying about your little sister who’s getting in trouble at college right now to even acknowledge your existence. What did your existence mean anyway? Was it even worth a dime? Sometimes, it felt like you were watching your life pass you by. Days turned into months, and months turned into years. Yet you, you were still the same. Sure, you grew up, both emotionally and physically, but deep down you’re still that lovesick girl that lets little things get to her head way too much.

You sighed, running your fingers through your messy ponytail, trying to subdue the knots. You heard your phone ring, which brought you out of your depressive trance. You picked it up the moment you saw the caller ID, already fed up.

“Yes, Jeonghan?” You groaned, knowing what the next two words were going to be.

“I’m drunk!” Yup. You were right.

“Where are you?” You sighed, already getting up and getting your bus pass ready. Although you didn’t have a car, you always walked Jeonghan home when he was drunk.

“I’m at my apartment. Could you come here please?” Jeonghan pouted, and you physically cringed when you pictured his face in your mind. He was probably doing some drunken puppy eyes.

“You got drunk by yourself? Why’d you involve me in this? Just go--”

“Hyesung broke up with me.” Jeonghan sighed, and you swallowed.

“On my way.”

You knocked on his door very lightly, hoping not to wake any of his neighbors. You heard Jeonghan’s clumsy steps, and you watched the doorknob fumble multiple times until it was finally unlocked. The moment Jeonghan met your eyes, his mood immediately brightened. A drunken smile broke out on his face, and you inwardly vomited due to the putrid smell of alcohol.

Jeonghan is 28, and he is your best friend. You met him through your job, but he quit a while ago to go and follow his dream of video game designing. He wasn’t doing too bad actually, his apartment was nice. It was mellow, but you weren’t one to judge apartments, since your apartment basically screamed “depression”. You are 27, just a year younger than your best friend.

Jeonghan often calls you when he’s drunk, and you have no idea why. He often wakes you up in the middle of the night just so you could walk him home. If this was anybody else except Jeonghan, you wouldn’t do it.

You walked inside his apartment and threw your coat on the couch. You walked to his kitchen, which wasn’t a separate room from his dining area, and got a can of beer.

“Bad day?” Jeonghan asked, and you just nodded while walking toward his couch. You plopped down, sprawling your limbs across the piece of furniture.

“What happened with her?” You asked, and Jeonghan just scoffed.

“She cheated on me...Multiple times. It’s okay though, our relationship wasn’t serious.” Jeonghan explained, and you frowned while sipping on your beer.

“But you really liked her…” You argued, and he gave you a sad smile.

If only you knew, Jeonghan thought.

“It’s fine. Why was your day bad?” Jeonghan asked. You could tell he was tired by the way he blinked. Each time he closed his eyes it would take longer for them to open.

“Don’t worry about me, go to bed. I’ll sleep on the couch, okay?”

“Mmm.” Jeonghan murmured. With slumped shoulders, he trudged to his bedroom and closed his door. You sighed slightly, ignoring the pain in your chest. Why did your heart hurt so much? Did it hurt for Jeonghan?

That answer seemed simple enough, so you decided to agree with it. You then lied down on the couch with your hands under your head. You ignored the sudden anxiety that had bubbled in your stomach and closed your eyes wearily. You had so many things to worry about, like work, Jeonghan, bills, your apartment...Yet, you never seemed to worry about yourself. You could never, though. That’s because it would require actually reflecting on your past, and everything you’ve done. Or, haven’t done.

The weekend went by in a cloudy haze, but everything seemed to go by like that nowadays. You didn’t really feel alive anymore, and you don’t know exactly when this haziness seemed to start. Everything was numb, nothing caused you to feel. Things were automatic, you did everything without thinking. You wake up, go to work, go home, make dinner, and then go to bed. It’s a constant cycle of hell. The only time you’d feel remotely alive was when you’re with Jeonghan, but he’s got his own shit to deal with.

The thing that hurts the most is that you’re absolutely and utterly alone. You wake up with no one by your side. Your biggest fear is dying right now, at this age. What mark would you leave on the world? It would be a small, insignificant one. There’d be a memorial service at your work, and your family plus Jeonghan would miss you, but that would be it.

Were you destined to be a nobody?

You were young once. You were young and happy, not a care in the world. Well, that’s a lie, you cared about one thing.

Kim MIngyu.

Mingyu was a breath of fresh air. After having so much pressure put on you by your parents, you felt like you could finally breathe around the 6’2 boy. He always had that effect on people, he was just an energy-giver.

Your friendship never once faded, even after his countless amounts of girlfriends. You had a thing for him in early high school, but it turned into full-blown love senior year. You’d watch him walk around with his girlfriend, feeling nothing but pain in your heart.

You never took his earlier girlfriends seriously, because you thought he would realize one day that he was madly in love with you. And then, he would kiss you passionately and apologize for not coming to you sooner. Alas, that never happened.

Your feelings just got worse.

And when you both got into Seoul University, you watched him prance around with his new girlfriend, Ra Jieun. From then on, things went into the gutter.

And here you are now, without Mingyu. You’re well over him now, you’ve actually had your fair share of boyfriends these past few years. It was just the “what could have been?” aspect.

Sadly, you would never know.

You woke up to the sound of a shower being turned on. Light peeked through Jeonghan’s windows, and you groaned internally. At least it was a Saturday.

You grabbed your phone, checking the time. 9:22 AM. Didn’t you go to bed at 4 AM? This was fucking ridiculous.

This time, you actually groaned out loud when you got up, walking slowly to Jeonghan’s kitchen. You poured yourself some cereal with some gross skin milk. You ate it mindlessly, watching Jeonghan walk from his bathroom to his bedroom, with the most pained expression on his face. Poor guy, you thought, he’s probably so hungover right now.

The thing about Jeonghan’s apartment is that you could never possibly get bored. He has herds of video games, literally starting from as early as to when they were invented.

He also has every gaming console known to man. His spare bedroom was used as a gaming room, where he’d stream his new games from time to time. Jeonghan was a computer genius, and you were insanely jealous since you weren’t so tech savvy yourself.

Jeonghan finally came out of his room, fully dressed, with wet hair. Jeonghan had dyed light brown hair, with dark brown eyes and tall stature. He was slim yet muscular. You could never deny that your best friend was indeed extremely handsome.

You smiled when you saw his face, and he returned a pained grin back. “Have some cereal.” You suggested with a quiet tone, and he gave you a small smile.

You let him eat by himself, because you went into his gaming room to check out what new video games he has added to his collection.

After playing a few easy video games for a bit, Jeonghan came in and sat down on the black leather couch in the already dark room. The only source of light was the light emitting from the computer screen, and the window. He never turned on the overhead light in that room, for some reason.

“Whatchya doin’?” Jeonghan asked, and you shrugged.

“Just playing around.” You murmured, earning a nod from Jeonghan.

Soon, the two of you found yourselves in a video game match. Jeonghan had multiple computers in that room, so you both partook in an adventure of competition. Jeonghan beat you every single time, but it was kind of unfair since he was an actual video game designer.

You found yourself appreciating Jeonghan more and more as you got closer to him. You really were so lucky to have such a good friend like him, because nobody knows where you would be if Jeonghan wasn’t there to help you get over the boyfriends you had, your quarter-life crises, or your financial dilemmas. Jeonghan was your rock. You hoped he felt the same about you.

“Jeonghan,” You began, “we should do something. Like, go on a trip or something.” That earned an odd look from the man, and he furrowed his eyebrows curiously.

“That was random.” He said.

“Yeah, well, I don’t know. I just thought we should do something nice, since you’re like, my best friend.” You pouted, resulting in an adorable chuckle from the man next to you.

“Okay, sure. Where do you want to go?” Jeonghan asked. You merely shrugged your shoulders, your frown deepening.

“Let me come up with something. Give me some time.”

Jeonghan nodded.

You remembered the first time you felt feelings for Mingyu. As a kid, you were late to hit puberty. So, girls who were larger than you would steal your money and other possessions.

There was one time where you were walking home from school, and these three girls jumped you. It was around the eighth grade, so you were still a tiny little thing. No matter how much you kicked and screamed, they would not stop.

Suddenly, Mingyu came out of nowhere. Mingyu was the opposite of you, he bloomed very early. Therefore, he was a tall and confident man. You will never forget the look of anger in his eyes on that day. “HEY!” Mingyu screamed, running toward you.

The girls dropped everything they stole from you and then bolted, murmuring rushed apologies and words of regret. By then, you and Mingyu were already best friends.

“Thanks, Gyu.” You sighed, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. Your voice cracked when you tried to talk again, and soon you were breaking down in front of him.

You sat against the brick wall the girls bullied you by, hugging your knees to your chest. You just sobbed, and let yourself be held by Mingyu. “I’m so sick of this,” You hiccuped, “I’m so sick of being pushed around!”

“Hey, Y/N...You’ll always have me, alright?” Mingyu reassured, giving you a sad smile. You wiped the tears from your face and sniffled slightly.

“Alright.”

From the summer of eighth grade to ninth grade, you grew 5 inches and gained a few pounds, resulting in your chest and bosom to be much bigger than before. Needless to say, you attracted a lot of boys.

Alas, there was only one boy in your heart.

#seventeen angst #seventeen x reader angst #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan #kim mingyu #mingyu #jeonghan x reader #mingyu x reader #seventeen x reader #angst #fanfic #svt x reader #svt #seventeen #seventeen x reader smut #seventeen x reader fluff #intertwined

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angelicspaceprince · 6 years

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Summer Lovin’ (Part 1)

Author: Anna

Title: Summer Lovin' (Part 1)

Pairing: Gabriel/Reader

Character/s: Gabriel, Castiel, Lucifer, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Balthazar, Crowley, Michael, Charlie, others I can't remember.

Word Count: 3, 634 words

Warnings/Tags: Teacher!Gabriel, History Teacher!Reader, overseas trips, having a crus on our man, lead up to smut, angst and goodness

Summary: You had no idea how this happened. Well, that was a lie. You knew exactly how this happened. Those stupid golden eyes and ridiculously sexy smirk somehow managed to throw you off course every time they were in your vercinity. You had no idea how you were going to handle spending two months taking care of an entire grade of students as you travelled around Europe...especially when Gabriel was going to be with you every step of the way.

Notes: Just discovered the @gabriel-monthly-challenge blog and saw their prompt for this month being high school AU and decided, yes, Gabriel as a high school teacher being the little shit we know and love. So, here we are! I'm about to go on placement so either there will be a TON of more writing that may or may not be. (Was originally going to be one large fic but had to break it down, I start placement NEXT WEEK so I'll prbably finish this series then plus all my others that are overdue to be finished)

Tags: oddone92. elyshakate. authoressskr. thewhiterabbit42, gabriel-monthly-challenge, saintbartine, ever-faithful-sidekick, saltvattenshar, diehadess, mega-supernatural-writings, shanghai88, sassysousa, micas-dont-like-rain, randomlonelytorment, oldparchmentandcoffee, ihopehellhaswi-fi. gabrieltrash, thoughtfullyoptimisticgalaxy, djpaige13paige, letsfeerintheheadlightsuniverse, taylorchwan, pizzafromhell, tuesdays-suck-for-tuesdays, archangelsanonymous

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Summer Lovin' (Part 1)

You have no idea how this happened.

Well, that was a lie. You know exactly how this happened.

Those freaking golden eyes and that ridiculously sexy smirk.

Mr Gabriel “call me Gabe” Shurley was the religion teacher at your new school. An elite school for the rich that made you feel incredibly small and insignificant when you first approached it looking for work.

You'd just moved from your old home to here, looking to get away from a nosey family and old boyfriends, and you were extremely lucky in the sense that the old history teacher has decided to retire, leaving a place for you to slip right in to take over.

You were fairly easy going and it took a lot to fluster you. But somehow that religion teacher always managed to make your brain short circuit and cheeks flush a deep red.

You didn't even hear what he said, just agreed to it when you realised he asked you a question and wasn't telling you a story. When a bemused Sam Winchester - science teacher who, as you had figured out during your third day here, every female and a few male students either had or had had a crush on him and was (as your class put it) “super cool” - came up and gently explained what you signed up for.

A six-week long school trip around Europe.

Okay, a) what sort of school has a grade-wide trip to Europe to help with their studies and b) how did you not realise that's what he was asking?

You, as a general rule, avoided day excursions like the plague. The paperwork alone was enough to invoke anxiety, but with the added stress of being the sole responsible adult for 23 kids was enough to set you off.

You didn't know if you could handle a two-month trip, responsible for an entire grade. The planning alone was enough to cause you to freak out. You should pull out, you still could. Hell, Mr Gabriel ‘Call Me Gabe’ Shurley had come up no more than six times to ask you if you wanted to withdraw.

But you couldn’t say no to him.

At least there were going to be other teachers attending, thank God. The school had decided that for a grade of a hundred and five that eight teachers and two aides for the kids who required one-on-one support would be sufficient. And, to make matters somewhat more bearable, the other teachers and aides being sent you were, at the very least, on good terms with. When Sam told you that Zachariah (not Zach. Never Zach) never came along on school trips, you swore if God Himself appeared before you, you would have kissed him in relief. Creepy Zach and Lilith, who were the two major staffing members that you had real issues with, weren’t even invited according to your reliable source. The staff that was coming, you felt comfortable with and were class favourites.

Sam was coming, obviously, and so was his brother Dean, the PE teacher. Both of the Winchester brothers were nice enough, Dean was flirty and always insisted on wearing these tiny, red shorts during PE sessions, Sam assured you that they weren’t coming on the trip, he was making sure of it.

Then there was the Maths and Art teacher, Crowley MacLeod. The snark sessions the two of you shared left most of the staff room amused, and you enjoyed the banter the two of you had on a regular basis. You were still pretty confused as to how he could have two completely opposing subjects as his classes, but he seemed to make it work. Took no shit from anyone and, quite often, would sass his students (or anyone, really) just for being in the room.

You loved it.

The drama teacher was also an amazing person, although you didn’t believe his name at first. Who on Earth calls their son Lucifer?

Lu, as he allows you and a select few call him, was also incredibly sarcastic. Must come with the job description for the teachers in this school, including ridiculously good looking, honestly. Were they running a school or a runway?

Doesn’t matter, that’s beside the point. Lu had a flair for the dramatic, both in the theatre and out of it. So it made sense to you that he took up drama, although his teaching style could be rather...well, simple. On several occasions, the kids had told you that he played drama games every so often but for the most part he’d tell them to write a play to perform in x amount of weeks.

I mean, if it fits the modules he had been given then you guess it’s okay? You could never imagine doing that, however, you had to have everything planned to the minute’s detail, including plans A-Z in case anything happened that caused you to go off track.

Then you have Castiel, the English teacher. Possibly the most amusing person you had met. Most things just flew over his head, but the few things that he actually questioned always cracked you up. He was possibly your favourite teacher to approach for serious concerns and philosophical discussions, always having the time to chat. Quite often, the two of you would start a conversation about school or marking, him answering any and all questions you had, and it would quickly turn into a discussion or debate about some topical issue. It was amazing.

Then there was Balthazar. When God created the word Man-Whore, he had Balthazar in mind. His shirts were always plunging and awfully tight, and every Monday morning he’d walk in and loudly proclaim his weekend activities, or as he liked to call it, his conquests. Teaching Food and Bev as well as French, you were pretty sure he embodied the phrase ‘well, it’s four pm somewhere’. Kids loved him, he always had some story to tell and, for the older ones, stories involving alcohol were a fan favourite.

The music teacher was another friend that you actually started spending time with outside of school. Marie, the tall brunette that was kind, wise but with an evil streak. From the moment that you first met Mr Gabriel “Call Me Gabe” Shurley, she was determined to set the two of you up, which led to a lot of awkward moments. I mean, the moment he’s in the room, all rational thought is out the window. Scratch that. All thought it out the window. You were pretty sure Marie got some form of derived pleasure out of this. And you highly doubt that she was going to behave over the two-month trip.

Finally, you have your two aides for Crispin and Louise, your friendly neighbourhood geek and lesbian, Charlie, and possibly one of the most serious men you’ve ever met, Michael. Charlie was amazing, a people’s person and genuinely funny. The two of you would talk about your favourite shows and movies before and after classes, and would often come up with new and creative ways to encourage Crispin with his work. Michael, on the other hand, was completely opposite.

The relationship you had was strictly professional, and you often didn’t know what to say to him outside of school work. He was very focused and was amazing for Louise, patient and kind to the girl with so many questions as she signed them out. You had put in a few things to help with Louise, but for the most part, she just needed a translator and occasional assistance with understanding school work. He made sure to remind you for subtitles on all YouTube videos or movies shown, even though you made a point not to forget without his reminders. The texts he sent you were short and sweet and were always to remind you of things you needed to bring in for Louise’s dyslexia.

So, he was an amazing guy. Just a polar opposite to Charlie.

All in all, you knew the trip was going to be a great one. Even as you stand, practically comatose, with your steaming coffee warming your hands as you all do a final headcount at the airport. Parents either respecting their kids and not making a big deal over them leaving the country for what would most likely feel like an eternity, and others full on embarrassing them as they blubber and sob as their babies make their first step to exploring the world (somewhat) alone.

Who decided that you were all going to fly out before the sun had even risen? To meet up at the airport at four in the morning was a feat you weren’t sure you were going to be able to succeed in but, miraculously, here you were, rather than in the comfort of your warm, soft bed.

Gabriel was, of course, a morning person. Already up and running at a speed you didn’t think you could ever match as he was excitedly chatting away and reassuring parents and students, making final checks and rushing around the airport to make sure that everything was in order. So far, when any of the members of the faculty came up to greet you, they got a grunt.

Simply too early for you.

Marie, as it would appear, was in the same boat as you, standing next to you as the two of you silently count and recount the students as Gabriel does the final lot of announcements about how the lot of you were going to travel. Travelling with a hundred and five students was going to be a challenge, so having groups of students that each teacher and/or aide was responsible for seemed logical, after all, it’s easier to look after nine-point-five students then it was all of them at once. The ten you were responsible for were the easy ones, thank God. Any other time you’d have the brain capacity to take care of the difficult students but today was not that day.

Marie bumps you slightly as you take a sip of the ambrosia that is your coffee. “What seat are you in again?”

“1B?” You confirm, looking down at your ticket. You see a faint smirk in the corner of your eye as Marie moves to take a mouthful of her drink, no doubt to hide the fact that she knew something you didn’t. “Marie? What’s going on? Why did you want to know?” She shrugs.

“Curiosity.” She replies sweetly before moving to stop an argument between two boys before it got physical. You had a funny feeling, but that could be from the lack of sleep. But the almost sinister look Dean was sending your way made you think that maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t that.

Final goodbyes were said and the boarding of the students commenced as the eleven of you tried to get them to board in an orderly manner. An impossible task, but somehow you managed.

You were seated with Jordan next to you, a quiet boy who, immediately after sitting down, pulled out his book and started to read. You liked Jordan, very brainy and never really was a bother. Relieved that you wouldn’t have to deal with one of the more hands-on kids directly next to you, you settled, pulling out your own book to read once take off commenced. Usually, you’d listen to music but you didn’t think that would be a great idea this time around.

“Hey there, neighbour.” A cheerful voice states as a weight plonks down in 1C. When you turn, your stomach does a turn, cheeks instantly flushing red and burning your skin. Golden eyes meant one person. Gabriel.

Shit.

Ten and a half hours next to the one person you couldn’t properly talk to.

“Hey.” You finally managed to not-quite blurt out with a tense smile. “Kids ready?”

“Yeah, just.” He agrees. “You ready for this?”

“Once I fully wake up.” You can feel yourself trying to be somewhat normal, but your voice has somehow gone back to how it was when you were fourteen, something that caused embarrassment to eat away at your very core.

“If you need a nap, I don’t mind being your pillow.” He winks your way, clearly enjoying how you somehow managed to get more blood into your face.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine.” You state somewhat sharply as you open your book and attempt to read, the words not quite making their way into your brain, signalling the conversation was over.

Wait a minute.

Wasn’t it Dean who booked the plane tickets?

~~~

When, and how, you fell asleep was news to you, but all you could think of now was the ridiculously warm and soft pillow you were leaning on. And occasionally moving.

It was annoying, causing you to grumble and shift slightly in an attempt to get more comfortable. A quiet voice asking ‘sir’ with a low ‘shhhh’ in response quickly made you realise two things.

A), there was no pillow and B) if there was no pillow, that meant there were two possibilities as to whom you were leaning against.

Sitting up quickly, rubbing your eyes and the slight drool that dampened the corner of your face, you were completely mortified when you realised you had been sleeping and drooling, on your crush, who saw nothing of it.

“Morning, sweets!” He exclaims cheerfully as the student - Olivia - walks away, clearly, her question answered. “Sleep well?”

“I’m so sorry.” You start, ready to jump into a full-blown apology when he simply shrugs you off.

“Don’t apologise, I’ve been told that I’m a fantastic pillow.” He grins brightly as your brain fog begins to, yet again, settle down causing your brain to slow, the bright smile he sent your way causing it to jar suddenly. For fuck’s sake. “Not a morning person?”

“Not much of a person in general, if I’m honest.” You hear the words tumble out of your mouth as you move to sit more comfortable, grimacing at the crick in your neck. You can see his face twist in amusement, trying to hold back a small amount of laughter from bubbling forth. “Where’s the coffee? Actually no, where are we?” You correct yourself as he opens his mouth to answer.

A small paper cup filled with glorious brown liquid appears in front of you. “You missed her by about two minutes, so I grabbed you a cup.” The sip you took felt heavenly as warmth filled your system and you began to slowly pull out of the fog and the wrench in the gears of your brain started to shift slowly. “You slept for about eight hours, we have another hour and a bit to go.” You groan. “What? Is sitting next to Jordan that bad?” You quickly swivel to make sure Jordan isn’t offended but, thankfully, he’s fast asleep. He’s a little bit sensitive, that boy.

“No, not a fan of flying.” You admit. “If God wanted us to fly, He would have given us wings.” You quote your mother. Gabriel starts to laugh, obviously trying to keep the volume low so not to wake up the surrounding sleeping students.

“You sound like Dean.” He lifts his head to look behind the two of you, you follow suit. Sure enough, there was a pale, with an almost green tinge, Dean Winchester, gripping onto his chair for dear life as Sam continues to obviously enjoy his misfortune and tease the shit outta him. “He hates flying.”

“Then why do the trip?” You ask him quietly, smiling reassuringly when Dean’s eyes flicker to yours for a second.

“To get some of, and I quote, hot European ass.” You roll your eyes as you turn back, leaving Dean to his misery.

“In that case then, Dean can suffer.” As you move to drink more of your coffee, you feel Gabriel’s laughter next to you.

You really liked his laugh.

~~~

The rest of the hour flew by quickly, sleepy but excited students slowly waking up as the plane prepares for landing, chatter slowly filling up the cabin as you help calm nervous students and stop the overexcited ones from freaking out the rest. In between all of that, you managed to somehow, miraculously, have a semi-normal conversation with Gabriel, find Marie to basically just slap the upside of her head as clearly, she knew the torment that awaited you when you first boarded the plane, and finish the last two chapters of your book. The moment you were on land again, you could have jumped for joy. Dean all but fell down the stairs his legs were so shaky from the ride, and you were certain his voice was about two octaves higher than usual.

Student check and baggage claim happened relatively quickly...well, slightly quicker than you expected for a group of over a hundred. You managed to track down Dean to check up on him as your kids were getting their bags, and although his voice hadn’t quite returned to its normal deep pitch, he didn’t look as green as he did when he left the stairs.

He was, however, strangely interested in how your flight was, and surprisingly disappointed when you informed him you spent most of it sleeping and the rest dealing with the kids. If it wasn’t for the fact that you were adults, you would have suspected something was up.

Herding tired and excited kids into a bus at 7:30 at night was a little disorientating (read: super fucking hard) when you were still running at your home state’s time of 2:30 in the afternoon, your mind confused at why it was suddenly going dark, but you managed. Thankfully, the bus driver who addressed everyone as ‘flower’ did a pit stop at McDonald's so the kids had something to eat before checking them into their rooms for the night, having a meeting with the head of their group before lights out. Gabriel had run ahead to check him in, so you grabbed him something to make sure he ate, which allowed Marie to basically take the piss out of you as you two waited for the others to finish.

Finally, you were at the hotel. Your heavy eyelids wanted to cover your lead-like eyes, but your jobs weren’t done. You had to hold a meeting with your group of students to remind them of the rules (no fooling around, lights out at 10pm, breakfast at 7am and to be ready for departure at 9am, unless otherwise specified, no sneaking out, no alcohol, no drugs and, if you really must leave your room, make sure to inform a teacher and take a buddy, no we don’t care that you are 18 we are responsible for you, therefore, you will do as we say) and get them ready for the next day, which was going to be an easy one. Visit Westminster and possibly do a bit of exploring.

The nine you had were easy, and you had the added extra help of Charlie as Crispin was in your group, alongside Victoria, Lucas, Ursula, Joel, Ryan, Elizabeth, Jane and Angela, meant that you were sure you were going to have it easy. Sure, Lucas and Joel together was often a recipe for trouble but the two of them never caused you any grief and Victoria was upset that her boyfriend was in another group but she would be fine once they all figured out that these mini-groups were just to check to see if everyone was present and to give them the run down of the next days events.

After explaining this to them, they all seemed settled that they were, in fact, going to be able to hang out with their friends. The meeting itself lasted only ten minutes, located in the boy's room before you left them all to get ready for bed, having shown the girls to their room as you walked down to your room.

You already knew that you were going to have to share with another teacher. The groups had to share rooms in their gender and so did teachers, mostly due to room restrictions and to be fair on students.

You had no idea who you’d been paired with, but Marie had assured you that she had put in a word so you wouldn’t have to deal with the snorers (the Winchester bros) or the extremely fussy ones (Castiel and Michael), especially as you would have to stay with them for the duration of the trip.

Secretly, you were hoping for Marie, who was hoping for Dean, or Charlie, who was hoping for Marie. That was a Shakespearean love story right there.

So, when you opened your door and no one was present, you assumed whoever you were staying with hadn’t finished their meeting, so you move to claim the bed closest to the window, hoping to be more or less in bed within the next ten minutes.

Teeth brushed, PJs on, book out, you were more or less ready for bed and just waiting for the other teacher to rock up. It wasn’t until another twenty minutes had passed that the door was finally slammed open.

Oh no.

You can’t be serious.

You don’t know if your heart, mind, body and soul could take this.

“Hiya sweets!”

It was going to be a long trip.

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alexiela73 · 6 years

Note

Ah! I have longed to ask you something for so long I love your work (inspired me to make my own writing blog as well). Is it ok if I ask something along the lines of Reaper finding out his s/o is a big theatre nerd and does a few play productions in their spare time? Also the reason for them not telling him was because they were too nervous on what he would think of them. Pretty please and thank you :)

It makes me so happy that my blog was capable of something like that. I’ll be sure to take a peek at your blog when I have a free moment. I bet its amazing! And yes, I absolutely can. My play choice is due to my current obsession

Tonight was the night of one of the largest performances you’d ever had the honor of being selected for. Beyond the curtains, you could hear the murmurs of the crowd as people took their seats and talked among each other. Everything backstage was like a race, with everyone trying to make sure every last detail was finished.

Right now you were in the dressing rooms with some of the actors, proud of yourself for playing in this small production of Hamilton. Of course, no one could do Hamilton like the original play actors, but after getting permission by the lead man himself, your small town had put this together.

And really hadn’t expected how many people in and outside of town wanted to see it. This was meant to be a charity play to help raise funds for the school you’d graduated from, where they were suffering from a lack of resources. Thus, the community had come together with the brilliant idea to hold a play and charity dinner.

It turns out, many people were eager to help the school out. So now the rows of chairs were full, and there were still people leaning against the walls, watching the hidden stage with anticipation.

Taking a deep breath, you double checked your clothes to see that every button was done and everything was where it should be. You were so excited, as you were to play Elizabeth Schuyler, one of the leads. It was an honor and you were just so ecstatic…and so nervous.

Ever since you were little, you had always wanted to be in the theatre. During school, drama class had been the only thing you truly lived for. And when you’d graduated, you’d been blessed with all these opportunities to continue this passion of yours. And you just…wanted tonight to be perfect for everyone.

It would be perfect for you, you thought with a sigh, if your boyfriend were here too… Immediately you had to shake the thought from your head, simply because of how absurd it sounded.

Gabriel Reyes, the man you’d dated almost a year now, had no idea that you were likely one of the biggest theatre nerds alive. He had no clue that while he was working, you’d be practicing for plays or teaching a theatre class for children under the age of thirteen. And he had no idea…that you were here tonight, possibly performing one of the most important plays of your life.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to tell him. And of course, Gabriel always seemed to support you in everything you did. But this…Gabriel was a mature man who took on a lot of responsibilities, ones that involved the lives of others. This, in comparison, was insignificant.

And then, what if he did know? What would he think of you, of your abilities and all this time that you put into something so small? Would he judge you, say that its a waste of time?

You didn’t want to believe he would, but you weren’t willing to let the opportunity arise where you might have to choose between the love of your life and your life-long passion. Because if you did…it would be him. It would always be him.

“Everyone get ready!” Yelled one of the volunteers. “Five minute count down,” he said, heading off and talking over a mic he was wearing.

The butterflies in your stomach were aching up again and you tried to take deep breaths, to focus on all the practice you’d been doing as of late. The lines went through your head, again and again. The cues, the light, everything you could possibly think of.

“Focus,” you whisper, its not much longer before the play begins.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first half of the performance went amazingly. There had been one or two minor hiccups where an actor had either frozen up for a moment or had forgotten a line, but the audience had only cheered them on and supported the people acting.

Somehow you’d managed to do your part without troubles. There was a moment where you’d thought you would cry, where the pressure of all those eyes on you had nearly held you in place…and then, the words had flowed from your mouth with an easy confidence.

It had been like a dream, where the crowds had disappeared like smoke and it was just you and the rest of the actors, practicing like usual. Just the way you’d pictured it had helped you to forget those watching, relax and really give it your all.

With the curtains closed, you went back to the dressing room and sat with a heavy thump. One or two others came in and out, though many of the actors were too busy high fiving and talking excitedly out with the production team about how incredibly the first part had been.

Not you though, you thought with a small laugh, as you gulped down some water. You needed a breather, to calm that racing heart of yours.

“You were amazing,” said a voice suddenly, causing you to jolt and leap to your feet and face the door. “Who would have known you could act so well? Certainly not me, since I’ve never been invited to one of your plays.”

For a moment you didn’t know what to say as you stared at the man standing in the door, his arms crossed and one eyebrow lifted. Gabriel was handsome, like always, and you wondered for a moment if this was some kind of hallucination caused by the stress from the play.

It took you a moment, as he stepped further into the room, before you opened your mouth. “How…I…How did you know I’d be here?” you asked after a moment, staring at him.

“You left your notes at home on the bed. I assume you had been practicing before you left and forgot to tuck it away, as usual,” he said calmly.

Oh damn…that note book of yours help all your lines, all your parts from every play you’d played in the last three years. The book was very full, and like a fool you’d left it out where he could see it.

“Why would you hide this from me?” Gabriel asked softly when you said nothing, stuck in place. “I thought people who dated were suppose to be honest with each other.”

Finally you seemed to regain your voice. “They are!” you cried, cheeks flushed hot with shame. “I just….I don’t know. I thought you’d think it was stupid, and then…I don’t know, reject me? Find it ridiculous, and the fact that I love it so much?”

As much as worry of rejection told you that it had been the right thing to hide it, in reality your mind know that it had been stupid. Honesty was the best policy and you knew that....but you’d just been so scared.

There was silence in the room, and you stared at the ground, positive he would walk away from you. It had been silly to hide this from him.

After a moment, you heard footsteps and a shadow fell over you. A gentle hand cupped your chin and lifted your face, forcing you to look up at him as he studied you. “....You make a good Eliza,” he said finally. “She was an strong and beautiful woman, just like you. I can’t wait to see the rest.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “You...you’ll stay?” you asked with a small voice, staring up at him and he took your hand, squeezing it gently.

“Of course i’m going to stay. Baby, when you enjoy something this much, when it makes you this happy...it can’t be ridiculous, especially not to me. You could love clowns and if they made you this happy, then I’d be all for it,” he said, grinning when you shuddered and shook your head quickly.

Taking your chin once more, he lowered his head and brushed the sweetest of kisses across your lips. “The point is, sweetheart, that anything you care this much for is important to me. I want to support you, with all quirks and flaws and passions. Sure, I’m not a big theatre buff. But you are, and I only wish I could have seen all your other performances,” he said seriously, thumb brushing over your bottom lip.

You couldn’t help the tears that began to well in your eyes when he said that to you. It figures, the fact that you’d blown your fears out of proportion. Yet Gabriel was as supportive and caring as he always was, and the fact that you’d forgotten that for this long was sad.

“Thank you so much,” you whispered, hugging him tightly and he cradled you close, amused by your poofy skirt.

After a moment he pulled back, holding you an arms length away. “Now, go out there and give it your all. You have the voice of an angel, and baby, that is no lie,” he said with a wink before pecking your cheek and heading out to find his seat again.

Knowing he was out there, rooting for you....it gave you all the confidence you needed to perform the last half of the play without a worry. There was no hesitation, no second thoughts....just an unending joy from doing what you loved for the man you loved.

#Reaper #Reaper x Reader #Reaper Overwatch #Gabriel Reyes #Overwatch #Overwatch Stories #Overwatch Writing #Overwatch Imagines #Overwatch x Reader

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thegirthquaker · 3 years

Text

November 21, 2020 [1]

Why I gave up and never looked back actually has to do with what happened on this day. In October, similar time frame, my dog got sick. I nursed her back to health.

I had it with humanity because I was tired of the “spectrum” always going “woe is me that is not my ID”, because they pulled that shit on me. While my dog was sick. “at least you can go outside as yourself”. You mean the me, who has eyesight so bad he’s walked by someone dear to him? I live with regret and guilt daily. I say NOTHING of it, because that’s not what people want. My strength is my silence, if I had to say. Or rather, it’s my weakness because I have strength in my actions. You could say that I have strong silence, which is bad. I never got a response back after saying that, no. I don’t get to do that. I’m aware of my luxuries. Clean water, clean healthy food, plethora of stuff, internet, AC, you name it, I’ve practically got it. Also, it’s not even about me. it’s about people acting special all the god damn time. It’s not about that person whining either. It’s about NEITHER of us.

One asshole gets to play the “bara furry says shit” card. Except I’m not a furry. I never even figured out my lack-of-avatar problem. You know, an artist either has their own face, or some sort of face, right? I do have problems with furries in that I don’t like the drama that’s usually found from them. I’ve had a few incidents, by the by. However, they’re just people. That’s all they are. People are people. The “gender spectrum” allies always get to do this, and I’m fed up with it. You get to treat people like shit, but when they call you out for it, you get a magical shield. That’s what Twitter has. Quite blatantly, it’s all over hurt feelings.

Want to know what I did? I didn’t even call them out for that. I was pointing out other situations in our world, like how doctors have to live with their decisions. Those with a conscious have to know who they let live and who they let die. Identity? How about their ID being “murderer”?

Tell me how it’s not beyond hurt feelings. “Hateful”? It started with me agreeing with a guy calling “them” special snowflakes. The following thread was exactly that; they were talking about themselves as if they had it the absolute worse. One “ally” even tried to refute my “people born without limbs” by acting like you can add prosthetics onto anything. THEY NEED TO BE CONNECTED SOMEHOW. Excuse me? Does it look like our technology can reproduce feeling properly? No. We’re on the way to that. You’d know if you weren’t so ignorant to people’s woes. Trying to play the saint over “identity”? If society needs to reaffirm you so that you may survive, then yes, it is all about being a special snowflake.

Tell me then, why does it matter what letter of the alphabet it is that you want to be? Why does that matter? To make your ilk feel better about yourselves?

I’m not okay with the amount of canceling people can receiving. I call it “canceling” because it’s negativity if not “counter-hate” by the “gender spectrum”.

I don’t know what the hell “gender” is, or what it even “feels” like. I see people as people. Everyone struggles with life. EVERYONE. You know nothing about me, not even introducing yourself, yet you yourself desire identity affirmation by SOCIETY, and try pulling “going outside as yourself”?

You’re the sheep that follows the same society that came up with these constructs of division. Male, female, once you get to them at their root and core, what do you have? What do you have AFTER you do that? The only use it is, is to categorize reproduction. That’s it. I’m not stupid enough to follow societal conventions; I don’t even know what “gay” is. Blanket terms are stupid.

At our core as humans, we’re all bisexual. We failed so badly; we fucked that up, ended up as wusses who can’t face our reality that anyone can be with anyone, and as a result, we’re afraid of invisible labels. Now, no one can be with anyone because they have petty interests and fetishes rather than having an open mind with the idea of “mates”.

John is a man’s name? Who said? I’ll give you a hint. Society. Think about it. Ask the question. Why? Why is it so? How is that the case? Is it WRONG? What is WRONG about it? Why do you believe John can’t be a woman’s name?

I actually have a name commonly used for females. So, uh, yeah. I can choose to change it, or I can choose to keep it. I will, however, acknowledge that either outcome is for my comfort. That’s because it is. It serves absolutely no purpose beyond that. Tell me how it does.

You’re saying this crap to someone who knows the flaw of equality and can see your hypocrisy. Equality is taking into account 8 billion human lives and trillions of animal lives. The same “equality” you get from “BLM”. I saw a re-tweet of “if you’re black” you can get help financially, but if you’re not black, you should “re-tweet or help out people”. So, you’re fine with taking non-black money, but if others do the same, you’ll go all “ACAB” and “blue-lives matter pig”?

Not even 1 million cops to the 300+ million people. We will see rotten cops. The entire movement’s focus was to enforce the law on law enforcement. How does no one remember that? What, you want to excuse your behavior to act like a stereotype? Then when there weren’t any cops in certain places, people still bitched. The aftermath of COVID leaves everyone suffering; why the hell do you get a pass for your “prefix” or “pronoun”, or even “race”? This was all during the heaviest parts of COVID. People were losing their lives and their homes. I spent my time reading hundreds of lives. It was horrible.

All of this is only a factor of giving up. It’s not the whole thing, but it influenced it pretty well. I don’t care if I’m “hateful”. I’ve seen people receive far more “hate” for the most insignificant words than they should have. I’m ignorant, yeah. I’m ignorant to these peoples’ woes because I can’t understand. I don’t need affirmation; I live as myself. I’ve been hated and alone for my entire life. I’ve only got one friend, and even then, that’s a bit... difficult to explain.

I always keep in mind that we’re just people. We’re just humans. There’s so much more to life, so many more lives. I don’t compare woes like that. I will not say I have it worse than others, because realistically, I don’t. They always get to make these assumptions without knowing you. Instead of giving a name or an introduction, you’re given a label.

I don’t see people as labels. Are you gay or are you a person? I don’t need to know your interests because I’m not looking for anything in particular. If you want to talk, we can talk. That’s about it. I can say I’m a nice guy sometimes. I’m a great listener.

I don’t need any name-basis because I know names matter little on the net. Requests? I only need the person’s user-name to contact and respond to, so obviously a handle is needed. But, what connotations do I read into that? Is keithsmith93 really important, or is he really the 93rd keith smith?

Why does that matter? If I know him to be keith, then Keith he is.

However, above all else. You do NOT assume you know anything about a person like that. Especially if you want to “compare lives” because you can always go outside as yourself.

You do not say that shit to someone who has a sick pet. How would they know? Easy. Have some manners and understand that everyone has a different life. There are billions of people who will undoubtedly have it worse than you. Have an open mind and adapt to that fact.

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acakaos-archived · 7 years

Text

Bit of a journaling exercise here to help me come to terms with my thoughts. Drama queen told me to do it here for whatever stupid reason. Maybe posting it makes it concrete in my mind.

I’m not kemetic, guys.

This is something that has been gnawing on me for a long time, but I’ve chosen to ignore it. Because it’s scary. I’m a person with heavy abandonment issues. I have difficulties finding anyone or anything that is willing to give me the time of day without prompting, who will not brush me aside the minute I stop being the initiator, so I form heavy attachments when I think I am safe with someone.

And being told by your deity that you don’t belong with them? It sucks.

I’ve had a lot of ups and downs in my life when it comes to spiritual matters. I’ve gone down a lot of different paths and periods of nonbelieving. Even now that I’m older and more stable in my beliefs, it’s incredible to have something that is there with you through it all. When I was just a small child and searched through any paganism and witchcraft sources I could get my hands on to find something I was missing, I always felt the presence with me akin to the warm kiss of the desert. It carried the sense of sanctuary I needed for getting through life and even though I found Anubis to be a fascination in non-spiritual context, I didn’t connect the two until later. But that didn’t change the fact that he was always with me. I would not be alive without him.

And in more recent years when I found a renewal in my studies to make actual advanced progress, Yinepu still stuck with me. He’s like a warm blanket to shield me from a winter night. He guided and protected me during my spiritual progress and changing life, he showed me to other kemetic deities to provide other help that I needed. He even helped me to come to terms with things such as being a walk-in, listening to my fears of what I have stolen from the spirit supposed to be in this body.

But there is still something missing. We both know it, I am just the one who tried to deny it.

Trying to come to him recently in times of need, begging him to tell me why I am continuing to live, pleading for a reason, he only turns his back and says in a colder voice than I have heard before:

“I am not the one you should be coming to.”

It is the voice of a beloved guide, guardian, and friend who knows they can only help me by turning me away. It is like I am a bird who must finally be pushed from the nest and finds no further comfort from their parents, only urges to enter the terrifying world.

He wasn’t the only one who was always with me. I had Nyarlathotep’s eye on me from a very young age as well. This took much longer to understand, from a combination of not knowing who it could be and not finding them in any pagan resources, from thinking he was others (this especially happened when I practiced Satanism for a few years, where I wasn’t sure if I entirely believed but I knew there was something indescribable there and understood it was not the entities everyone else spoke of), to even doubt that a figure which seemed to originate from pop culture could be real.

But unlike Yinepu, Ny was never a kind figure. Quite frankly, he was cruel and sadistic many times. I was never ready for the manipulation, for the sense of insignificance, the stark contrast to Yinepu. I wasn’t ready when I dove into accepting him and it hurt me. Perhaps I could never have been ready, the things he pushed me towards were not things I could have prepared myself for in a hundred years, but I do know the pain of growth through them. And I’ve survived it. I have survived and I am at the place he built me towards and I am capable of surviving through other trials because he has molded me into something strong.

Yinepu knows this very well. I have been unsettled for a year or two now at how much he has backed away, but it’s because he knows he is not my destination and does not wish to confuse me. The only way I can move further is by accepting that I am simply not kemetic.

Of course I can still work with the netjer and continue my kemetic practice. Of course I can continue those things. But... it isn’t meant to be my focus. And I admittedly use it as a label of comfort, to convince myself that I belong somewhere. That is what I need to shed and it requires distance. It requires cutting the unhealthy bonds so that I can focus on this other practice without doubt and the need to use my kemetic label as a hiding place from the unknown. I cannot proceed if I deny that my eldritch work is the center of my practice.

The eldritch is where my energy belongs. It is what my nonphysical being is comprised of and where I fit snugly in the astral scale of things. But as much as having somewhere to belong should comfort me, it does not. There are plenty of doubts.

Is this even a valid path?

Am I a bad person for following this?

Others tell me I am doing a very bad thing and that I should never have spoken to these gods, are they correct? Am I going against what is right by working with him? Does this make me a terrible person? Am I just too stupid to see it?

The netjer have raised me and taught me my moral values, and this is something I will never forget. Yinepu took the initiative to guide me into becoming the person I am today. I don’t know how much I believe in fate, but I do know that ma’at feels very right to me and that I have no need to shed it. He has taught me the moral strength I need to survive my eldritch path and I will never forget that. But while he raised and nurtured me, it was only to prepare me for another.

They have both told me to take the kemetic label off my blog. It’s a small thing, but I cling to it and the time for that is gone. The Crawling Chaos told me to remove it, to remove my doubts that I am wrong and a bad person and not valid and others are right for telling me to quit, and then we can continue. Yinepu is willing to leave to make this happen. I am not sure where to go or what I should feel.

#jackal talk

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kimboatfloats · 4 years

Text

Today’s Special: Mourning the Past but Letting Go

This year something I uncovered a trauma that I had no idea existed. All it took was a Facebook friend request and I spiralled into a deep, dark place. I had no idea that would happen because I had no idea that particular person held any sway over me whatsoever. I hadn’t thought of her in years.

But our lizard brains are strong creatures sometimes and I was already going through a thing so it gripped on and I shut down. I stopped contact with many people, blocked them on social media, and just basically turtled until I had the ability to look at that interaction and see why I had such a response to such a tiny, insignificant moment. A request. That I rejected. Outright.

And I came back to the trauma of being a teenager, living in a town I still felt foreign about, of wanting to be a kid while the world saw me as a physical adult (including unwanted advances from men twice my age or older). Navigating the hormone surges and my stupid decisions and crushes and finding out that I was a pariah. Dealing with social hierarchies and feeling disgusting and learning that just because you love playing a sport doesn’t mean the team will love playing with you. Of living for drama but knowing that you’re “that kid” the others roll their eyes at.

I’m talking about Junior High (and some High School). Probably the second worst time of my existence. I look back and see that I was pretty stupid about many things I chose to do and I gave an aura of being invincible because I was absolutely petrified every day. I fought and gossiped and I wasn’t completely a victim because I also victimized others. I even got in physical altercations with pushing and shoving. I dated people I wasn’t even that much into because hormones. And I wanted so very much to have people know I was smart that I acted like a complete ass.

But I also showed early signs of ADHD, dysthymia, and what I — and a friend who is on the spectrum himself — suspect to be autism (I am not diagnosed by a psychiatrist for it — just for the other two — but I didn’t tell the psychiatrist everything because some things were just to embarrassing to admit at the time).

Junior High sucked physically and mentally. I would call home sick and go home for the afternoon to sleep. I would stay up all night reading and then be unable to get up during the day and fall asleep in class. I cried about having to go to school. I was always so sick. I didn’t eat breakfast because I would get up very last minute. Then I wouldn’t eat lunch because I was so petrified of the mezzanine where everyone ate lunch (I now know this is crowd-induced anxiety that still exists to this day). I felt fat and ugly and embarrassed by my breasts and body which was definitely ogled by my male peers. I didn’t want the attention. Especially from kids who called me Pizza Face.

I had chronic acne. I started going to the doctor to cure it. I took all kinds of drugs and topical creams. I think I went through all the “cycline” products that existed. I had braces that were supposed to last 14 months and I ended up having them for 3 years. I had glasses. They were not stylish.

And I was a super dork but not really a dork. I was in this sort of middle ground where I was in band and drama, but I wasn’t nerdy enough to be with the smart kids. And in that miasma of uncool there SHE was. She was cool. She was kinda more outgoing, more socially aware, and she just got it — whatever it was. She wore babydolls and dyed her hair and wore makeup. She knew all the good gossip. She was just way, way cooler than I was.

And she wanted to be friends with me.

Curse her sudden but inevitable betrayal. There was lots that happened and I don’t really remember it, except that I brought her into the office because she wrote in a note that she was going to kick my ass. We went from best friends to lifelong enemies in a matter of weeks.

I don’t know what happened to her after that. I had my own issues and my parents were separating so I didn’t really deal with anything well at all. I liked my little bubble and I kept it small in high school. I found a safe place to eat lunch so I didn’t have to starve all day. It was not the best life, but it was better.

When I look at my teenage years and accumulate the cool things I did, I bet I looked like I had no problems at all. I was smart and got decent grades. I played in band. I was in drama and had many starring roles. I had a couple of boyfriends. I was voted in for Student Council. I did peer leadership. I won awards. I went on trips. I even got a student exchange to Brazil. I probably looked like everything came really easy. That I had no problems.

That entire time I was who I am even today, petrified of crowds and scared of social interaction. Scared of rejection. And it really hurt me that she rejected me. I had no idea how much until this Facebook request. It was heavily tied up in some really emotionally trying times. Times I haven’t dealt with and I just haven’t let those go. They’re there. And now I don’t want to hold onto them anymore. It’s been 20 years. No more.

So, Kim who was who you were as a teenager, I grieve for your sensitivity and insensitivity, but I’m Kim of 2020 and I won’t carry you.

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ikkegoemikke · 7 years

Text

Hacksaw Ridge (2016)

Summary The true story of Desmond Doss, the conscientious objector who, at the Battle of Okinawa, won the Medal of Honor for his incredible bravery and regard for his fellow soldiers. We see his upbringing and how this shaped his views, especially his religious view and anti-killing stance. We see Doss's trials and tribulations after enlisting in the US Army and trying to become a medic. Finally, we see the hell on Earth that was Hacksaw Ridge. Genre : Drama Country : USA Cast : Andrew garfield : Desmond Doss

Hugo Weaving : Tom Doss Vince Vaughn : Sgt Howell Director : Mel Gibson

My opinion

"Help me get one more."

Even the worst horror can't make me look at the screen with disgust. But the moment one of these American soldiers set his hand on a seemingly lifeless body, a hysterical scream sounded and all hell broke loose, it did. The image of that unfortunate soldier whose body is torn to pieces by a devastating hail of bullets, took my breath away abruptly. And that's the start of a brutal and bloody narrative. Yet another unknown story, doomed to disappear in the annals of this terrible great world war. Again the story is infused with some goody-goody events. Plus it has a high "outcast becomes ultimate hero" level. But that's the only criticism I can think of. For the rest, this is an emotionally shattering film.

The film immediately begins with a slow motion footage of the battlefield. A chaotic war scene. Infantrymen are shot to pieces. Japanese soldiers are running towards a certain dead. Disemboweled bodies. A pile of mangled corpses. And when there's a sign of life, they are mercilessly burned with a flamethrower. After a while you wonder if this isn't a bit exaggerated. But then again, for those who weren't there, it's difficult to imagine the hell these soldiers were in. And even while sitting safely in your lazy chair watching this horrifying spectacle, the realistic sound effects and gruesome images will make you shit your pants out of sheer anguish for sure. And this, my friends, was just a foretaste.

"Hacksaw Ridge" jumps back in time after this introduction. Back to the rustic rural life in Virginia where Desmond Doss (Andrew Garfield) grew up. His pacifism was sparked the day he nearly killed his brother after hitting him in the head with a heavy brick. But he wants to serve his country and voluntarily signs up for the army. His family felt as though they have been hit by a bomb (no pun intended). Especially his father Tom (Hugo Weaving) , an ex-soldier who survived the 1st world war. When it turns out that Desmond stubbornly continues to refuse to touch a weapon, his training becomes a series of harassment by fellow soldiers and the military command does everything to get rid of him. But a verdict is delivered by the court-martial, after an ultimate interference by his father, stating that he may serve his country without taking up arms. So armed with nothing but a pocketsized bible Desmonds he's off to the front. Hell on the island of Okinawa.

"Hacksaw Ridge" is divided into two contrasting parts. On the one hand the cozy, peaceful first part where the sprightly Desmond tries to seduce his future wife and where he enrolls after which he starts his training. And on the other the bloody battle on the island of Okinawa. Actually it's almost the same format as used in "Full metal jacket". The stereotype of the average medic serving in a war, whose job is to take care of the wounded on the battlefield, is being refined here in no time. That image of the huddled, frightened soldier with a red cross on his helmet is replaced by a heroic, self-sacrificing soldier who would walk through fire for his fallen comrades. And this image is reinforced by the figure Desmond, a conscientious objector who's running around the battlefield like a Speedy Gonzales and rescues abandoned soldiers who were doomed to die there. Unfortunately, this message was just a little bit exagerated in my opinion.

It's not only the images of this war that'll leave an impression on you, but also the rather magnificent acting. Andrew Garfield plays in a convincing way the devout and sometimes seemingly naïve Desmond. By smiling constantly in a retarded way, it looks as if he isn't right in his mind (No wonder he joined the army voluntarily). In addition, we see a few brilliant supporting roles such as the one from Vince "Term Life" Vaughn (again proof he can play something different than a goofy not-so-funny part) as drill sergeant Howell and Hugo Weaving as Desmond's father. But most impressive is the fact that this is all based on true facts and that Desmond Doss was the first conscientious objector who was awarded the "Medal of Honor" for "conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity in action".

In my opinion this film primarily showcases stupidity of mankind. A portrait of the madness during this World War. The senseless waste of young lives while trying to conquer an insignificant rock (A bit like "Hamburger Hill". Only in reverse). I'm convinced that many of those heroic soldiers were asking themselves what the hell they were doing there at that time. I bet they didn't see the point anymore of this whole operation. But stop the lingering. Orders are orders. Forward, straight ahead meeting your own demise. Madness!

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My rating 8/10 Links : IMDB

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