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sinner-as-saint · 4 years

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Let Me Love You.

CEO!Bucky Barnes x Reader AU.

Run-through: Things happened between you and your boss over a weekend recently; while on a business trip. Boundaries were crossed, lines were blurred – rather salaciously. Following this; you decide to resign from your dream job because you couldn’t handle the guilt of having been so unethical. So vulnerable and open. Neither could you handle his burning stare at work, nor the craving of being under him each time you looked at him. So you decide to leave before you ruin your own career and further. But then, your boss shows up at your doorstep – determined to make you realize that this isn’t so bad after all…

Themes: smut, fluff, ceo!bucky (because I miss him)

You felt awful as you stepped into your apartment.

Sighing as you looked around; thinking about how the job you just quit had paid for this lavish home you owned currently. Removing your shoes by the door, dropping your bag and keys beside them you lazily crossed your spacious living room and stepped into the main balcony.

Given you were high up, the view you had of the city was to die for. The sun was going down, and usually you loved sunsets but you couldn’t appreciate this one as much as you wanted to. You were stressed; now jobless.

You thought back to the past week you had just hustled through. Monday was weird; he avoided you like the plague. Tuesday was the same, except you caught him staring in your direction while in a rather important meeting. Wednesday, he still didn’t say a word – except for his usual demands which being his PA you had to meet. Thursday he didn’t come to work; which then gave you more time to think about everything which happened recently, allowing you more time to feel guilty and weird.

And today, given it was Friday he was the busiest he’s been all week. Yet despite that, he managed to send you looks which spoke volumes even in crowded rooms. And you couldn’t take it anymore. You believed you were someone who wouldn’t be able to mix work and pleasure and find a healthy balance, so for the sake of your own peace of mind; you produced a resignation letter and placed it on his desk when he wasn’t in his office. And you left for the day.

You knew he always lingered at his office for a while longer on Fridays. So you were sure that by now he must have found your letter. You wondered if he felt just as awkward and weird as you did, and if so, then he’d accept your resignation without any hesitation.

You sighed one more time, taking in the cool air and the orange-pinkish sky. You walked back inside and decided that soaking in warm water and essential oils would make you feel a little better. So that’s what you went for.

Thoughts of him filled your head as you soaked in the warm bath water. Your boss. James Buchanan Barnes; powerful name for an equally powerful man. He was the kind of person you couldn’t forget even if you tried. Respect, fame, wealth, authority, power; he had it all.

And recently, just a week ago, he had taken over you as well…

-Flashback-

Friday morning you came to work and found out that you would be accompanying your boss on a short business trip. You didn’t make a fuss, even if it meant sacrificing your days off. The paycheck you received each month made up perfectly well for it.

Paris for weekend, to attend a business conference didn’t sound so bad after all.

“Sir, I’ve just been notified that you’ve cancelled the hotel reservations?” you questioned while scrolling through your mails. While you were just a little confused by this, the man in front of you was clearly not.

Sat across you on the dark seat; well-groomed as always – dark suit, perfect hair, perfect face, strong jaw and strong built. He looked like he could be on a magazine cover. Pure, drop dead gorgeous male. Many of your friends often asked you how you kept your calm and composure around him, and how could you not want to jump his bones all the time. To which you answered; you didn’t see your handsome boss in that light.

But oh did you lie.

You were human. And you did find your boss to be super attractive just like the rest of the world did. But did you do anything about it? No. Firstly, that would be highly unprofessional. Secondly, he was way out of your league. Still, it was hard being around a man this handsome. Knowing he was single and available made it worse.

“I did.” he answered, just as confidently as he did everything else. “It’s just one night, Y/N. We’ll stay at my penthouse.” He stated.

You nodded and replied back to your assistant who had initially emailed you about this sudden change. ‘We’ll stay at my penthouse’…

You had shared residence before. Once you spent the night at his mansion because of work load. Then another time you two shared a cabin while on a trip. Once you shared a hotel room because separate rooms weren’t available. But this, today seemed a little different. And you couldn’t place a finger on what it was.

It didn’t rub you the wrong way or anything. He just seemed so cheery, which was unlike the normally slightly grumpy man. But then again, who were you to question his decisions? So you went along.

You two landed in Paris on Saturday morning. The conference was to be held on the same evening, followed by a formal party of some sort, then the two of you would be making your way back home by Sunday evening. Quite a tame weekend… until it wasn’t.

Throughout the whole conference, you felt a pair of eyes staring at you from across the room. Meanwhile you were talking to an acquaintance – legal advisor of one of the many businessmen who were attending the same conference as your boss. Steve was a friend of a friend but you two were currently bonding more and more due to work.

And little did you know, that Bucky hated it.

He was watching. He’s always watching you. Not in a creepy manner, in a protective way. As a woman, you were somewhat oblivious to the effect you had on people when you entered a room. You never noticed it, but your boss did.

Bucky knew how every man turned their heads to look at you. How every woman envied you. And it was never about what you wore, or how you did your hair. It was always about how you carried yourself, how you walked so confidently, how you were always polite and proper. And so beautiful.

As much as he liked showing you off, Bucky hated it when he wasn’t the only one who had all your attention. Like right now. He clenched his jaw as he studied how this man approached you. Blonde hair, tall and muscular – Bucky hated him immediately. He hated him a little more after he saw how the guy hugged you; a lingering hug which Bucky never got. Then he hated him a little more when he saw how you dragged your hands down the guy’s arm, refusing to let go of him.

You never touched him like that. Bucky asked someone close by and he was told that the guy you were talking to was someone named Steve Rogers, and he was a lawyer and an acquaintance of yours.

Hmm.

He tried to look away but he couldn’t. Bucky envied the guy talking to you. He didn’t like how close he was standing to you. He didn’t like how he kept his hands at your elbows so gently, caging you, keeping you to himself. He hated it.

Then he asked you about it on the elevator, as you two made your way up to his penthouse to get changed and ready for the party later.

“You know Rogers?” he asked out of nowhere. His tone just as serious and cold as always.

“Yes. He’s… a friend.” You smiled innocently, thinking back to how you and Steve had successfully broken the ice earlier.

Silence.

You each took a room inside his lavish penthouse apartment. You immediately loved the place. You had about two hours before the party so there was no need to rush. You took your time, yet your mind couldn’t help but drift towards how your boss has been acting in the past hours. First he was all cheery and warm, and now he’s back to his grumpy self.

Oh well.

You stepped out of your room just in time, your boss was waiting by the foyer dressed in a signature, all black, 3-piece suit. He looked devilishly handsome.

“You look lovely, Y/N.” He said softly as you walked towards him. You couldn’t help but smile and tried to hide your face by looking down at the marble floor. Before you could recover from his rare compliment, he reached for your hand and walked the two of your towards the elevator again.

You noticed it then. The shift between the two of you.

The party was amazing. Lovely people, lovely music, nice conversations; what more does one need? Then again, you could still feel a pair of eyes on you. At some point, you dared to look up and you made eye contact with your boss.

He was staring with an unreadable expression on his face. You shook it off and went back to the conversation you were currently part of, but you could tell he hadn’t stopped staring at you.

You two met on the elevator again after the party, on your way up for the night.

“You and Rogers seem close.” He pointed out.

You were surprised at the tone he used – that of disgust and anger. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

He scoffed, then turned to you. “Is something going on between you two?” Same tone as before.

Your eyes widened. “No. No, what makes you say that?” part of you wondered why the hell was he so suddenly interested in your personal life.

“Just asking.”

You couldn’t help it. “Are you alright, Mr. Barnes? You haven’t been yourself in the past-,”

He cut you off abruptly. By backing you into the corner of the elevator, the cold metal pressing against your back as his warm hand held you gently at your waist.

“Am I alright?” he mocked in that authoritative voice of his. “No, Miss Y/N. I’m not alright.” He confessed. “I’m not alright with you being so close to me, yet not being able to touch you. I’m not alright with seeing other men making you smile,” he inched his face closer you yours, “making you laugh, dance with you, touch you like I can’t. I hate it.”

His warm breath fanned your face. And as the metal cage got higher and higher, your heartbeat increased in the same tempo. Racing. Rushing. Your thoughts were a mess. Your body was tingling, he was so close. Too close. And you could feel yourself giving into him already.

And you did eventually.

“Then what’s stopping you?” you asked in a whisper, and you heard his little chuckle under his breath. This could be a wrong idea, but it felt right. You looked up into his piercing stormy blue eyes and you saw it; the hunger, the desire, the need.

You were sure yours mirrored the same emotions. Bucky pulled away just for a second, to press the key to stop the elevator from moving upwards any further. Then he turned to you again. “Can I kiss you?” he whispered against your parted lips, barely touching them with his own but the proximity was enough to make you lightheaded.

You nodded quickly and his mouth was on yours immediately. His lips moved against yours perfectly. He slipped his tongue past your lips and stroked the top of your mouth, driving you crazy. His kiss was just how you imagined it would be; hot, passionate, and exciting.

Your hands found their way into his hair and your fingers ran through his soft locks. He pushed his muscular body into yours even more and you gasped as you felt how close he actually was. His body heat wrapping around you.

His hands slowly reached up and slid the straps of your satin gown down your shoulders, letting it fall and bunch around your waist. He had been wanting to do that all night, especially since he saw you dancing with that guy Steve.

Bucky smirked at the sight of the flimsy, lacy lingerie you had on; which he was sure he could tear off your body in less than a second. And he did, allowing the thin material to fall to the floor. He gently touched you wherever he could; letting his hands linger at your breasts and taking his sweet time; caressing and kissing your skin. His lips trailing down your neck; kissing, licking and biting.

His mouth didn’t leave your skin as his hands slipped in between your legs with ease; caressing your inner thighs as he went. His hand slipped into your underwear with no shame, his knuckles gently stroked your wet folds; making you shiver at his touch. He chuckled upon feeling just how aroused you were. “So perfect…” he whispered.

He ran his fingers up and down your folds, gathering and smearing your arousal around as he went. You whimpered quietly against him; your gown barely covered your body. But Bucky was nowhere near complaining. In fact, he had been thinking about what you looked like under that dress since the first time he saw you this evening.

His hand gently wrapped around your throat. He gave it a little squeeze and an involuntary, playful smile formed on your face. His smirk grew, and so did the fire in him. “Like it when I choke you, huh doll?” he spoke, dragging the tip of his nose along your jaw as his other hand slipped under your skirt and rubbed your clothed core. He couldn’t take it any longer. “I need to have you.” he growled. “Now.”

He pushed his two fingers past your entrance with ease and moaned right in your ear as he felt your wet and warm walls immediately welcoming him in. He curled his fingers inside of you, hitting all the right spots which made you weak in the knees. You bucked your hips against his hand involuntarily, and he chuckled as you moaned out loud while he touched you.

Feeling more confident than earlier, you quickly unbuttoned his pants, palming him through his underwear and feeling his erection. You smirked to yourself as he grunted the moment you touched him.

“I want you…” you mumbled breathlessly. All your worries and overthinking left behind, you wanted him bad. And that’s all you could think of at the moment.

Bucky smirked. He lowered his pants and underwear, then he hurried in pulling down your underwear, letting it all fall and pool around your ankles. You stepped out of it and Bucky picked you up by your thighs and kissed you deeply while holding you between him and the metal surface tightly.

Your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms held on to him tightly. His cock briefly brushed against your wet folds in the process and you whimpered through the kiss. Bucky needed to be in you already, all he wanted was to hear you scream his name as you cum around him. So he wasted no time in aligning his throbbing tip to your dripping wet entrance.

He pushed himself into you; stretching you out. His nails digging into your skin as he held you by your hips, and yours scratching at his shoulders as he filled you up; making you whine and moan as he went. You were both gasping by the time he filled you up entirely. His body didn’t feel as foreign as you expected. You two fit perfectly.

Bucky started rocking in and out of you, without wasting any time. You felt all of him; your walls clenched around his thick cock as he started out with slow strokes and then gradually sped up into you. You felt all of him, the bumpy and the velvety skin of his length. He was perfect as he stroked your walls with his pulsating cock. You were a moaning mess in no time.

His strong arms supported you up by grabbing you at the curve of your ass; holding you against him, as he sped up into you; showing you how much he missed you. He pushed his head into the crook of your neck and swore under his breath, all while occasionally mumbling how much he loves you and how good you feel wrapped around him.

He fucked you relentlessly; earning more and more moans out of you each time his cock stroked your walls. Your hand slid into his hair and you tugged on it each time he pushed into you. You soon felt the familiar pressure forming; pressing inside you as the familiar warmth spread all over your body. You moaned wantonly.

Bucky nibbled at the skin under your ear and you lost all control you had left. Your thoughts became cloudy and all you could focus on was how his body brought you immense pleasure; your mind a foggy mess. Your clit rubbed against his pelvic bone each time he buried himself completely in you, and he soon quickened his pace; earning even more moans and mewls from you.

He pounded into you as fast as he could, your back slamming into the wall with each thrust; it hurt just a little. Your body moved along with his like a rag doll. And you never complained once. You could hear the wet sounds that he caused and the sounds of your skin clapping against each other – it was all too sinful.

He moaned right into your ear and the sound sent shivers down your back like it always did no matter where he took you. Your legs started to shake around him as he quickened his pace; pounding into you relentlessly. The pleasure built nicely as he took you higher… and higher… and higher. Until you couldn’t hold back anymore. So, you came undone around his cock; screaming his name in the process.

And that was one of the many times he made you cum around him that night…

-End of flashback-

Fuck…

You shivered in the warm water at the thought of him deep inside you; how perfect he felt, and how you never wanted to leave that bed with him in it. But then, you thought about how wrong that was; how you shouldn’t have gotten so intimate and personal with your boss. It was wrong, and unethical and a terrible mistake. But it felt good…

Stepping out of your bathroom, wrapped in a soft robe, you felt chills all over your body. Not because of the temperature, but because it felt as though you suddenly weren’t alone in your home. You panicked for a moment. Your heart racing, your thoughts racing faster.

Then you sensed it.

Sensed him.

He was here.

“Miss Y/N.” He spoke in that damn voice which could make you drop to your knees in less than a second.

Yet you managed to maintain your composure as you slowly turned around to face him. Realization hit you a little late, and you gasped under your breath when you finally saw him standing in the middle of your bedroom. Your initial reaction was to hug your robe tighter around your body.

He looked flawless and powerful as always. Hands shoved in his pockets; accentuating his broad shoulders. That gorgeous smirk on his face. Flawless hair. Flawless face. Bucky smirked. “Oh don’t hide from me. I’ve seen it all, haven’t I?” he teased so effortlessly.

You felt your face getting hotter under his intense gaze. “How did you… how-,”

He cut off your rambling. “I own the building, doll.” he answered like it was the most obvious thing ever.

Right. Of course he owns your apartment building. He also owns half the city.

There was an air of arrogance around him at all times. And you tried so hard to hate it, but you couldn’t. It suited him; the arrogance, the power, the authority. And he sure knew how and when to use it.

You cleared your throat as you kept your eyes focused on the ground, rather than look into his stormy blues ones because they were a new weakness of yours. “You shouldn’t be here.” You mumbled, not hating that he was here.

He scoffed. “Oh?” he raised an eyebrow at you and took a few steps towards you. You were surprisingly not hysterical about the fact that this handsome man found his way into your home out of nowhere. He walked over to you, grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into him.

You had no other choice but to look up into his ocean blue eyes and you could feel yourself melting already. He pulled you closer and leaned in, gently kissing along your jaw repeatedly. You closed your eyes and tried your hardest not to sigh in pleasure or moan as you felt the softness of his lips and the roughness of his stubble altogether.

“I’ve missed you.” he whispered against your skin, stopping for a moment and kissed you at the corner of your mouth. His arms circled around you, holding you close to him. Your arms circled around him as well, slowly. You realized you had missed him as well. His warmth, his voice, his mouth. All of him.

And just like that, he took over your very being again. One touch of his lips and you were under his spell with no intention of making it out anytime soon. “I missed you too…” you whispered breathlessly as he kissed your lips gently.

But those few words from you triggered something in him. An irritation he had carried inside since he saw that letter of yours on his desk. Overflowing emotions he couldn’t handle; due to which he was here in the first place.

“Yeah?” he whispered through the kiss, then slide his hand into your hair and tugged on it to pull your face away from his. He clenched his jaw as he looked down at you. He was conflicted, should he be mad that you even dared to think you could just leave him, or should he just fuck some sense into you? “Yet you dared to leave me your resignation with no warning?” Oh. “Huh? Is that how it is now, you think you get to decide everything?”

Oh. So he was mad.

“I didn’t mean-,”

He kept going. “Shut up, babygirl.” He spoke softly. “Now you listen to me,” he inched closer, gently biting your lower lip, “You’re not leaving me. You’re not resigning. You’re not going anywhere.” He stated, then pulled away to look at you again.

There was a fire in his deep blue eyes. “We can’t keep doing this.” You tried to come up with something. An excuse. You were looking for an excuse.

“Why not?”

“It’s wrong.”

He scoffed and then smirked again. “Is it? Does being with me feel so wrong to you now, huh?” he cooed, knowing it was only a matter of another minute or two before you give into him. “That wasn’t the case this past weekend, was it?” He moved the two of you backwards, towards your bed in the middle of the room.

You knew you wouldn’t be able to resist him for too long now. But you still tried, in vain. You sighed loudly, wrapped in his strong embrace. “You’re my boss.”

He chuckled. “I know that.”

“Exactly.”

“What?” he questioned, already untying your robe as he stopped at the end of your bed.

“You know what. How are we supposed to be professional at work if we’re sleeping together?” you asked.

He smirked looking down at you. “Then let’s not be professional.”

You sighed again. “It’s-,”

He cut you off with a kiss again, sliding your robe down your shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. “Shh.” And just like that, you melted under his touch. “It’s okay babygirl, let me take care of you.”

He pushed you down on your bed and held your stare as he undressed himself; smirking as he watched how you grew more and more desperate with each item of clothing he took off. He hovered on top of you in no time.

Bucky lowered his face; pressing his forehead onto yours gently, while he pushed his erected cock past your tight entrance. You moaned out loud as he did. He grunted once he filled you up entirely, and he gave you a couple of seconds to adjust.

“Fuck…”

You were so full of his thick cock that even forming a proper thought seemed impossible at the moment. You shuddered as you felt all of him. His lips found yours again, attempting to get you to stay quiet while he rolled his hips against yours.

He removed himself and pushed himself back into you, and watched in awe how you struggled to adjust to his size. He lowered his face again, and leaned into your ear. You heard him panting and swearing under his breath as he rocked into you. Your nails sank into his skin, around his shoulders; which you held onto for dear life as he pounded into you.

“Thought you could just leave me, huh? Thought I would let you?” he mumbled right in your ear as he fucked you relentlessly. “You thought I would let you go? Let someone else touch you, pleasure you, fuck you like this? Did you babygirl?” he growled. “Answer me!”

You whined, throwing your head back and moaning at how good he felt. “No… please I didn’t-” you were breathless. You tried matching his thrusts but were unable to; so you simply let go. Your body moved against his like a rag doll.

He growled at how your walls clenched around him. “What? You didn’t what? You didn’t think I’d come back looking for you? You thought I would just let you go because you asked for it?” he accidentally let out a moan, followed by swear words. “You think you make the rules here, doll?”

He reached up and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at him. His blue eyes were wild and fierce; staring deep into your soul. His gaze made you tremble in pleasure. He looked so powerful. Broad and strong, hovering above you, his cock buried deep in you. Looking down at you like he owned you.

He kissed you, bit your skin, kissed your open mouth while he rammed into you; and you never complained once. Given his size, he stretched you out completely. And it did hurt, but the pleasure compensated for the pain.

Your legs trembled as you lifted them up to wrap them around his waist. This allowed him to thrust deeper into you, and in the haze he was in, he managed to mumble right in your ear about how good you felt. He was relentless, as though each moan, each mewl which left your lips only encouraged him to get more and more rough.

At some point, right when your walls started clenching around him and when you were just about to come undone; he removed himself from you and flipped you onto your stomach and pulled you onto your knees by your hips. He kissed the back of your neck and pushed himself inside you again. You felt his hard body press against the curve of your ass as he filled you up again.

You moaned out loud at the new sensation of him rocking into you from behind. Bucky’s hand found its way to your front and he pressed the palm of his hand against your lower abdomen. He liked the thrill each time he felt himself thrusting deep within you.

His hand travelled all the way to your throat and he bent down to whisper in your ear, “Can you feel me deep within you?” he boasted as he gently squeezed the side of your throat. But hard enough to make you lose your mind.

“Please…” You could only moan and whimper in response while he kept pounding into you incessantly. You felt him quicken his pace as he chased his own orgasm. And finally he let you, and you came undone all around him – moaning his name out loud.

You woke up an hour later, the sky was darker and you felt a lot better than you had all week. You turned to your side and found your handsome boss passed out next to you. A smile formed on your face involuntarily.

“Don’t just look, you can touch too.” His gruff voice spoke up a second later, his eyes still closed. You chuckled and snuggled closer to him.

“So what now?” you asked, wrapping an arm around his bare torso. His body heat was something you were quickly getting used to.

He took a deep breath, smiled and lazily reached over to place a kiss on your forehead. “Now you let me love you.”

#ceo!bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x you #marvel au

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thinking1bee · 3 years

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When It Reigns Part 7

Requested by Anonymous

Pairings: Kara Danvers x Reader

Tags: Angst, Kryptonian!Reader, Parent!Reader, Parent!Kara, Estranged Parent, Graphic Depictions of Injuries, Blood, Humor, Bad Dreams, Memory Loss

Everything Taglist: @sammy90682 @nobody13 @owloftheshadows @captain-josslett @camslightstories @worldovart @finleyfray @acertainredhead @sammm9068 @reginassecretlover

You woke up to someone shaking you awake gently. You were in a deep sleep, a sleep so deep that you didn’t even dream. You were just exhausted, your face buried into the fluffy pillow as drool dribbled down your chin.

“Y/n? Y/n?”

You groaned. Who was calling your name? Couldn’t it wait??? This was some of the best sleep that you’d ever gotten. You grunted and rolled over, pulling the blanket over your head and settling into your new sleeping position. That didn’t seem to matter though because someone ripped the blankets from your body harshly, and your eyes flew open in annoyance.

“Y/n!”

“What?” you snapped angrily, sitting up to face who was bothering you. Kara’s groggy, but confused blue eyes stared back at you.

Immediately your anger dissipated, and you rubbed your face.

“Oh god Kara, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she said, giving you a cute smile. “I only woke you up because your phone has been going crazy.”

It wasn’t until she pointed out the small device did you realize that notification after notification was making it go off. You picked it up and scrolled through everything, you heart dropping to the floor when you saw that it was work.

“What day is it?” you demanded.

“What?” Kara asked, taken back by your panic and intensity.

“Kara, what day is it??”

“It’s Saturday.”

Work. You were supposed to be at work with Lena. You had to give her all the reports plus provide her an update with the deal with Japan.

“Shit!” you swore as you scrambled to get out of bed, but successfully managed to fall on the floor. Kara was by your side in an instant, super speeding to you and helping you up.

“Thank you,” you said breathlessly as you sidestepped her and continue to get ready as fast as you could.

“I’m sorry,” Kara said as she got dressed too. “If I knew that you had to work, I would have woken you up sooner. You didn’t get back from your trip until late last night and I wanted you to rest.”

You tugged a blouse over your head and fixed your hair into a tight bun. “What are you talking about? I didn’t go on a trip.”

Kara paused. “Yes, you did. You asked me to babysit, remember?”

You paused. No, you didn’t. You had no recollection of what happened or what you were doing in the past 24 hours, but you weren’t going to let Kara know that.

“Oh yeah,” you said quickly. “Thanks for doing that.”

Kara looked at you with an eyebrow raised. “Sure thing.”

You knew that look. Kara knew that you were lying, and there was no doubt that she would question you about it later.

“Kara, can you do me a favor,” you called out as you shoved you legs through some slacks.

She appeared beside you again, already wearing her super suit.

“Take you to work?”

You smiled and kissed her hard. “God, what would I do without you?”

Kara blushed, taking you into her arms the moment you were done getting ready. “Honestly, I don’t know.”

***

Kara dropped you off on the balcony of your office when she saw that it was clear. You kissed her again on the cheek before she left.

“Thank you so much,” you said to her gratefully. Kara kissed the back of your hands, smiling as she did so.

“Have a good day, okay?”

“I’ll try. That’s not if I’m fired.”

Kara smiled brightly. “Lena wouldn’t fire you, but.”

“But, what?”

“She might actually put you over her knee and spank you.”

You scoffed and cocked an eyebrow. “Well don’t threaten me with a good time.”

Kara laughed, her head thrown back in amusement as she pulled you in for a chaste kiss. “Okay I have to go. I’ll see you later?”

You nodded. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” Kara replied before she stepped on to the balcony and took off into the air.

It was only a couple of minutes later when Lena stepped into the office. She had folders in her arms and didn’t seem to see you until she looked up and stopped.

“Oh, Y/n. I didn’t know you were here.”

“Ms. Luthor, I am so sorry that I’m late. Things have been getting away from me as of late.”

Lena smiled. She didn’t look angry with you at all be you could feel yourself relaxing.

“It’s okay. If anything, I’m glad you’re here. I wanted to tell you that I can handle L-Corp for a few days.”

You paused, looking at her. “Is this because I was late this morning?”

Lena looked at you. “No Y/n, that’s not it at all. I know you’ve been under a lot of stress. This job can be a lot, and you do have other things to worry about. I want to help, you know? Take a load off of you.”

You pursed your lips. “Lena I can do this.”

“I know,” she said. “You are more than capable of handling things here. We all see that, but you still feel the need to keep proving yourself again and again. You have nothing to prove Y/n.”

You sighed, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Lena I can’t take time off right now,” you said as you rubbed your forehead.

“Actually, yes you can,” she replied simply. “In fact, I am ordering you to take today off. There’s nothing here that I can’t handle.”

She gave you level look, a small smile playing at her lips. “So go,” she continued on. “Go be with your family.”

You laughed. Well damn. No sense in arguing with a Luthor.

***

It was only an hour later when you and Angel were at the arcade, and you gave the cashier some money in exchange for tokens.

“So why are we here, again? I’m not complaining but I thought that you would be at work,” Angel asked you as she watched you take the tokens.

“Well, Lena told me to take the day off and I can’t argue with my boss.”

Angel smiled. “And you wanted to hang out with me?”

“Of course,” you said incredulously. “You’re my favorite daughter and I’m excited to hang out with you.”

“I’m your only daughter.”

You shrugged. “Details.”

Angel laughed as she looked around. “What are we playing first.”

“I’ve been eyeing that air hockey table since we walked in. You game?”

Angel smiled, her competitiveness showing through. “Oh, you’re on!”

That’s what you did too. For a while, you played with your daughter, laughing despite the fact that she was kicking your butt. It was nice, not having to worry about work or deadlines or more paperwork. It was just you and Angel, and nothing would make this better than if Kara was here.

***

Kara was called back to the DEO. Winn found the source of the earthquake, and she was out now, flying to the coordinates that Winn gave to her. When she reached it, she saw the massive monolith of criss crossing stone and rock. Kara landed and walked inside. To her surprise, it looked like the Fortress of Solitude, and she couldn’t help but touch the control panel that held the beacon. It lit up, humming loudly as Kara watched it send out a signal. The signal, red in color, shot into the air before dispersing into the air. Kara froze, her mouth wide in shock. Whatever she did, it couldn’t have been good.

***

You were laughing with Angel and having the best time in your life. You stepped away to grab some snacks from the vendor when suddenly your world went dark. There was no warning, no way to prepare yourself, just the feeling of nothingness. You were no more and oblivious to the fact that you were taken over. You stepped out of line with your eyes glowing a crimson red and you smiled harshly. In a burst of superspeed, you were gone, and Angel was left all alone in the arcade.

Part 8

#supergirl fanfic #kara danvers x reader #reader insert #angst #injuries #blood #humor #bad dreams #memory loss #parent!reader #estranged parent #kryptoninan!reader #parent!kara

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vaulthigh · 3 years

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Written in the stars.

Saturday, I stepped onto the baking 100+ degree University of Oregon track to compete in my second Olympic Trials. The feelings overcoming me were quite different than those I experienced in 2016, which back then were derived from being one of the fresh faces on the scene - one of the youngsters who had “plenty of years” to chase the Olympic dream. There may have been some pressure felt then, but this time around it was incomparable.

The Olympic hype is no doubt a factor in the emotional roller coaster most experience at the U.S. Olympic Trials. I compete 9 months out of the year every year, yet this competition (and the Games themselves, of course) is the only one that really grabs the attention of the public eye outside of the track community. Not even World Championships can compare to the Olympic hype, which I find ironic because that team is just as difficult to make, and you end up competing against the same fierce competitors at Worlds as you do at the Games.

I digress.

The point of that paragraph is to say - the pressure was on for the Trials, and while I preach to interpret it as support and encouragement from outside sources, it’s hard to overlook the feeling of expectation when I repeatedly hear the phrase “oh, you’ll make the team easily. Just go for gold in Tokyo!”

“Make the team easily”… ha. The Trials are a beast, and even the top dogs have to be on their A-game. No bad days allowed, because a dozen other athletes slightly down the totem pole are chomping at the bit, rearing to snag those rare 3 spots on the Team. My bad day is their chance to claim the spot, and rightfully so - but no matter how good you are, you can never go in thinking you have something in the bag. That’s when your bag will be lost, and you’ll never get it back. (Sort of like losing luggage while transferring through Charles de Gaulle airport - it’s just gone 😅. I hope someone who has followed me a while giggles at my reference.)

All this to say, the pressure was surmountable, and the most unfortunate part of my story is my confidence on the runway has been lacking the last month or two. It’s been a culmination of attempting to push my physical boundaries and raise my grip, but also combined with attempting to change technical things this season. I ended up biting off way more than I can chew. Being at the level I am, I will be the first to say “don’t try changing too much at once, that can really mess you up.” Well, I guess my judgement has been clouded by my burning desire to improve, and I ended up going against my own advice without recognizing it - until things came crashing down, that is. And I mean that in a literally way.

In my final competition prior to the trials, I ended up going back down to my shorter series of poles because I have felt my technique suffering. I was putting so much energy into trying to jump on the longer poles that my training sessions lacked focus on the basics of my form, which is what made me a 5 meter pole vaulter in the first place. Grip height never got me there - physical ability did. I cannot lose that because speed and power, and my ability to attack at the takeoff, are what made me great. They are my bread and butter.

While change can be a good thing, there is always going to be an adjustment period. Unfortunately for athletes, we still have to compete during the awkward times, which leaves you trying to compete at your best when you’re in the middle of a metamorphosis. It’s going to look as though you’re suffering, but in reality you’re just in the middle of morphing into a butterfly 🦋, and no butterfly can take flight before it leaves the cocoon.

That’s how I feel right now. I believe big positive changes are on the horizon, but they will only happen with persistence and positivity, and also with understanding given to myself from myself. As elite athletes, we hold ourselves to the highest of expectations at all times. I know the process I am going through, yet still was so infuriated at myself for my performance at the Trials. I don’t want to lose that fury and that fire, because that is what’s going to get me through to my goal, but I do want to work on not being so hard on myself. I know it sounds elementary, but it’s true at all levels. If anyone understands the struggles you’re enduring, it should be you. As humans, we should be allowed to show ourselves compassion just as we do toward others.

In that final competition before Trials that I referred to, I felt just ok on the shorter poles. I mean, no worse and no better than I do on the longer ones. (For reference, I’m talking 4.45m/14’7” poles versus 4.60m/15’1” poles.) I am glad I went back to them because it made me truly recognize my technique was suffering. It had nothing to do with what poles I was jumping on. I needed to “get my jump back”, regardless of poles, and I needed to do it fast because the trials were two weeks away at that time.

A few days later I did another vault session on the short poles, and I think it was probably the worst practice I have had in years. Like, literal years. I mean it. I don’t even know why - my body felt fine, the conditions were fine, etc. For whatever reason I just didn’t have it that day. I would run down the runway feeling good, plant the pole, and completely miss the swing and connection. I chalk that day up to sport. That’s just sport. Your bad days are going to happen and you sometimes can search and scrape for an explanation, and there simply isn’t one. You just didn’t have it that day.

“Well, crap.” I thought, when I ran through my last vault of the session and the pole ripped the skin right off the palm side of my thumb. “I needed that skin” I said, laughing in disbelief and also laughing because my body didn’t know what to do with my panic. Isn’t the human body such a strange thing? I felt panic and my reaction was to laugh - not sure that was an appropriate reaction but hey, I’m weird and I know it.

So now I was one week from the trials, I had just had a poor competition, and even more poor practice session, and ripped off vital skin I needed to heal within six days. A pole vaulters ability to grip is vital.

My emotions went numb at that point. I think I had worried away all of my worries. I decided to focus on getting lots of sleep, nourishment, and healing my hand. I kept it bandaged properly 24/7, and soft with ointments. This turned out to be the perfect approach because day 5 it was nearly perfectly healed and didn’t end up being an issue for my first competition day at prelims.

Prelims were absolutely necessary for me, and ended up being the first step in getting my groove back. Aside from it being hot (which I’m used to, thank you Arkansas…) the conditions in prelims were close to perfect. Throughout the warmup I got my feet under me and felt I successfully shook off the former horrid practice. I made 4.50m on my first jump, and with that single jump I qualified for the final round.

Two days later, the heat dome in Portland roasted the stadium to a whopping 111 degrees F. I wanted to take as few jumps as possible the get myself to the higher bars. In hindsight I know that was the right call because wow, doping control took me two hours because I couldn’t pee 90ml of fluid. (90ml is the absolute minimum required amount for a drug test - and it’s not much!) In warmups my run started to feel like “Sandi” again. I hadn’t felt like that in quite a while. I entered the competition and made 4.50m and 4.60m on my first attempts, but I didn’t expect those to be my only jumps of the day.

The bar went to 4.70m and I felt like I was rolling and ready to go now, shorter poles and all. It didn’t matter. First attempt, huge blow through. Needed a stiffer pole, so I missed. Second attempt, same thing! I landed so deep in the pit I had zero chance of making that bar. “Ok” I thought to myself “the next bigger pole has got to be the one. That’s always been my money pole!” So I went up a pole a third time, and after watching Morgan run down and make 4.70m (congrats Morgan!) I knew I had to respond. At this point I didn’t even know I was already in 3rd place and on the team, in my mind, I had to make this height to qualify. (Thanks ADHD, I’m not so great at processing those things mid competition when the adrenaline is pumping.) I ran down with more confidence than I had had in a few weeks time, jumped and had plenty of height over the bar! But my energy was a bit off center and my arm caught it on the way down. I missed my third attempt. I landed in the pit and was rolling out of the landing, simultaneously throwing my hands to my head in frustration, when I heard the announcer clearly state that I was one of the three on the team.

*Cue sigh of relief*, yet I couldn’t shake my extreme frustration so quickly. I had just had a bad day at the Olympic Trials. Needless to say, I was embarrassed. That’s not the feeling I wanted to have while qualifying for my second Games.

That night I experienced just about every emotion that exists. I went through sadness and disbelief, feelings of being lost and hopeless, then anger and rage at myself. I finally fell asleep at 3 am and woke up a few hours later to the videos of my jumps. My dad had texted them to me. I hadn’t wanted to even look at them after the meet because I was so angry and upset, but after I collected my mess of a brain, I took a solid look.

I found hope.

Seeing the videos helped me realize the reality - that my approach was better than it had been in weeks, and it really comes down to the fact that the poles were just too small. That’s it. I just needed to trust the feeling that my run was good and go up poles even in warm ups, but at the time I didn’t recognize that, and I didn’t go up. I started on my small pole.

So here I am three days later, and I feel like a completely different person than Saturday night. I have had time to process my emotions, endure the roller coaster, then watch my jumps with a technical eye. I am so close to being “myself” again, I just have to stay the course.

I am determined. I am going to pick up where I left off on that third and final attempt at the Olympic Trials. I am going to push forth and forge my own path. I had a bad day at the Olympic Trials, and I was still lucky enough to snag the 3rd spot to Tokyo. That was written in the stars, and I can’t help but feel it happened for a reason. I am meant to compete in Tokyo - even the stars believe it to be so, and I’m not about to waste this chance I was just handed.

Have you ever caught a shooting star? Me either. But I’m going to try. 💫

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thelazyhermits · 6 years

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The Color of Jealousy

Here’s the raffle prize for the lovely @arceal-doodles. Arci gave me the prompt “the color of jealousy” and asked for some jealous US Papyrus reacting to the Reader’s ex trying to get back together with the Reader. Once again, this became longer than I intended lol Also, the Reader is female in this ^^

I hope you enjoy it, Arci!!! <3 <3 <3

You’re exhausted.

After working late every day this week, all you want to do is spend your Friday night at home, relaxing on the couch with your boyfriend. Unfortunately, life seems to have it out for you.

Throughout the week, your friends have been begging you to go out with them for some fun. They found a new bar that’s apparently been really popular lately.

Considering the week you had, the last thing you wanted to do on your Friday night was go out partying, but despite you constantly hinting toward your lethargy, your friends wouldn’t let up. They claimed you never hang out with them anymore since you started dating Papyrus which wasn’t true.

It’s not your fault your job has kept you so busy lately. You haven’t even gotten to spend any quality time with your boyfriend this week because of work. So, your friends really shouldn’t be complaining.

Still, in the end, you caved and agreed to go out with them tonight, hoping this will appease them and get them off your back for the rest of the weekend. Saturday, you don’t plan on leaving your bed before noon. Hell, you may never leave it. Papyrus wouldn’t complain; you have no doubt about that.

So, now you’re stuck at a bar in a corner booth, watching your friends living it up on the dance floor. Honestly, considering how little you’ve interacted with them since you got here, you’re wondering why the hell you’re even here. You could seriously sneak out right now, and they probably wouldn’t even notice.

But, come the next morning, they’ll be calling me, complaining about me ditching them. This is so unfair. Papyrus was right. I need to learn how to say no to my friends. This is ridiculous.

The only reason you’re still here is to keep an eye on your highly inebriated friends and make sure they don’t get into any trouble. If you see any guys giving your friends a hard time, you’re gonna make them the target of all your pent up frustration.

You take a sip of your water to calm your nerves. Alcohol is definitely off the menu for you since someone has to play the responsible role around here. You wouldn’t be surprised if that’s why your friends wanted you to come, wanting someone to take care of them while they got wild and drunk.

They so owe me for this. I could be at home now snuggling on the couch with Papyrus. But, noooo! I just had to spend some “quality time” with my friends. Quality time my ass.

“Hey, Y/N, what’s up?

A familiar voice makes you freeze, successfully drawing you away from your thoughts. Filled with dread, you look up to see your ex-boyfriend, Chris, standing before you, wearing a casual grin. The same grin that used to give you butterflies in your stomach once upon a time. Now, it just makes your teeth grind.

Since he doesn’t appear to be looking for a fight, you try to remain cordial. “Nothing much. Just playing group mom. What about you? Out with the guys?”

Much to your chagrin, Chris takes a seat across from you and makes himself comfortable in the booth. “Nah, it’s just me. Haven’t been out in a while, and I thought it’d be fun. I ran into your friends earlier, and when they said you were here, I thought I’d drop by to see how you were doing.”

Your eyebrow twitches in annoyance. You may need to seriously consider getting new friends after tonight. “I see. Well, besides having a busy work week and having to play babysitter, I’m doing fine. How about you?”

He laughs at your response. “Sounds like a rough time. I’m doing alright. Work’s been going fine, but I’m still having a hard time getting used to coming home to an empty apartment.”

Knowing where this is going, you inwardly sigh while outwardly you raise an eyebrow “We only lived together for a month, and that was almost half a year ago.”

Shrugging, the man gives you a cheeky grin. “What can I say? It was the best month of my life. Of course, I miss it.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Best month, yeah right. The two of you did nothing but argue that whole month.

Everything was fine at first. You had been excited about moving in with Chris. Up until that point, the two of you barely fought and had the perfect chemistry. You really thought he was the one.

Until you found out his feelings about Papyrus, that is.

Turns out behind closed doors, your ex has no problem sharing his negative opinions about monsters. You can’t believe you dated him for all those months and had no idea about his hatred for monsters. He acted perfectly normal whenever the two of you were out in public.

He knew how you felt about monsters. After all, at the time, Papyrus, a walking talking skeleton, was your best friend. Why the hell would he date you if he knew you liked monsters?

It turned out that Chris had hoped he could change your opinion of monsters. He was under the impression that if you spent less time with Papyrus, who apparently was “brainwashing” you, then you’d be able to see “reason”.

Once you started living together, Chris kept coming up with excuses for you to not hang out with Papyrus. At first, you agreed, thinking he wanted to spend more alone time together.

However, after two weeks passed with no change in his behavior, you started getting annoyed. Anytime you wanted to spend time with your best friend, you got in an argument with your boyfriend.

Eventually, you found out about his hatred of monsters. Then, Chris had the nerve to ask you to choose between him and Papyrus. It was ridiculous. How could someone be so close minded?

Much to his surprise, your decision was easy. You had known Papyrus for much longer than Chris. Plus, there was no way you’d continue dating a man who thought so lowly of your best friend and his entire race.

It turned out to be the second best decision of your life. Your best decision being you agreeing to go on a date with Papyrus. It turned out your best friend had been harboring feelings for you for a long time. He originally didn’t plan on voicing them since he thought you were happy with your previous boyfriend.

Papyrus waited several months after your breakup before confessing because he wanted to make sure you had enough time to get over it. He didn’t want you to think he was trying to take advantage of you during your time of weakness.

Not that you would have ever thought that way. You know Papyrus isn’t that kind of guy.

“Hey, how about we give this another chance? What do ya say? Don’t you miss what we had?”

You can’t say you’re surprised. From the get-go, you figured this is what he was leading to. Before you can shoot him down, a familiar voice cuts you off. “sorry, pal. she’s taken. better luck lookin’ elsewhere.”

Surprised, you look up to see Papyrus standing in front of your booth, glaring at your ex. “Papyrus? What are you doing here?”

His expression softens when his gaze lands on you. “i came to bust you outta here. i knew you wouldn’t leave ‘cause it would upset your friends. but, i figured if i came and got you, they would get angry at me instead for takin’ you away.”

Touched, you give him a grateful smile. “Honestly, that’s probably the best idea I’ve heard all night.”

While you feel a little guilty about leaving your friends, that feeling quickly vanishes once you remember they left you on your own and even had the nerve to tell your ex that you were here. They better have a very good explanation for that, or you won’t be going out with them any time soon if at all.

As you move to stand, you feel a hand clamp down on your wrist, making you jump in surprise. When you turn your head, you see Chris on his feet, glaring at Papyrus as he tightly clutches your wrist.

In a blink, there’s a bony hand latched onto your ex’s wrist. You can hear Chris make a pained noise when the hand on his wrist tightens.

Directing your gaze toward your boyfriend, you see the skeleton glaring at Chris heatedly. “don’t touch her. if you want to keep your hand, let go. now.”

The two males exchange glares for several seconds before the human finally relents and releases your wrist. As soon as he does, Papyrus pulls you out of the booth and keeps you pressed against his side.

Chris scowls deeply. “So, you really did have a thing for him after all. No wonder you wanted to keep hanging out with him. You really are one of those freaky necrophiliacs. That’s why the two of you were so close. You were probably seeing him on the side, weren’t you?”

Incredulous, all you can do is gape. Did he seriously accuse you of cheating on him? What the hell? How did he come to that conclusion?!

Just as you’re about to give the idiot a piece of your mind, you hear a low rumbling come from your boyfriend’s chest. Surprised, you look up to see Papyrus scowling as his right eye socket gives off an orange glow.

It’s not often you see the skeleton get mad, so this catches you by surprise. Your ex is obviously surprised considering how wide his eyes are now.

Papyrus narrows his eye-lights. “first off, she never cheated on you. she’d never do something like that. at that time, we were just friends. second, if i ever hear you call her that again, you’re in for a bad time. if you don’t want to end up in the hospital, you’ll back off now and never show your face around her again.”

The other male scowls in anger. “Are you threatening me, monster scum?”

Your boyfriend smirks as his magic flashes. “that ain’t a threat, pal. that’s a promise.”

Not wanting to remain on the sidelines, you decide to add your own two cents. You pull out of the skeleton’s grip to stand in front of him, glaring heatedly at the pathetic excuse for a human before you. “If you ever call my boyfriend that again, I’ll be sending you straight to the ER myself. I’ve built up a lot of frustration and aggression this week. There’s nothing I’d love more than to take it out on you right now. Just try me.”

You’re filled with immense satisfaction when Chris quails at your look. With a smug smirk, you turn around, loop your arm with Papyrus’, and march straight toward the exit, not bothering to give the other man a second glance.

The skeleton chuckles in amusement before giving you a fond grin. “very impressive, hun. i think he was more scared of you than he was of me. he looked like he was about to jump out of his skin.”

His pun makes you giggle in amusement. Squeezing his arm tightly, you return the grin. “As he should be. We all know who’s really the scariest one out of the two of us, especially this time of the year when I’m overworked and cranky.”

Snorting, Papyrus leans down to press a kiss against your hairline right after you both exit the bar. “you’ll always be the sweetest in my book, honey.”

With a happy flush, you snuggle closer to your boyfriend. “Thank you for coming, Papyrus. Despite this horrible day, I was really happy to see you. If I had my way, I would’ve been with you the whole night rather than stuck suffering on my own.”

He wraps his arms around you to pull you into a warm hug before affectionately nuzzling your hair. “couldn’t let your friends have all the fun. i’m all about sharing, but even i got my limits. i held out as long as i could. they should be grateful i didn’t come as soon as i wanted.”

Smiling, you bury your face against his hoodie, breathing in the smell of cigarette smoke and honey. “Could it be you were feeling a little jealous?”

When you don’t get an immediate response, you pull back just enough to see him averting his gaze with a light orange blush lighting up his cheekbones. Amused, you reach for his face and gently guide his gaze back to yours. “You were. How cute. You know there’s no one I adore more than you, Papyrus.”

His blush darkens at your words. “i know. just couldn’t help myself, especially when i found you sitting with that bastard. i really wanted to hit something then. i was barely able to hold myself back when he grabbed you.”

Your expression softens as you smile at him, gently stroking his cheek with your thumb. “While I wouldn’t have minded if you had, I’m proud of you for holding back. Knowing him, he’d come up with a way to use that to prove his point about monsters. He’s not worth all that trouble.”

Papyrus leans down until his forehead is pressed against yours. “he’s not, but you are. and, you always will be.”

It’s times like this that you are reminded how you fell in love with the man before you and how lucky you are to have him in your life. Your heart feels like it’s about to burst with all the love and affection you feel for him.

Wasting no time, you close the distance between you and kiss him, loving how he pulls you flush against you and holds you close. Your arms loop around his neck as his snugly wrap around your waist.

You couldn’t care less that you’re in a public place, and anyone could see you. As long as you and Papyrus are together and happy, nothing else matters.

When the kiss finally ends, the skeleton uses his powers to teleport you both home where you both make yourselves comfortable on the couch. The two of you spend the rest of the night cuddling and exchanging kisses. Looks like you managed to turn your Friday night around after all.

It’s as you think over the night’s earlier events that an idea comes to mind that makes you giggle. When Papyrus raises a brow ridge at you, you grin at him. “You know, humans usually associate the color green with envy. Some people will say someone is seeing green when they’re jealous. In your case though, it’d be seeing orange, huh?”

He snorts in amusement. Rather than reply, the skeleton instead leans down to capture your mouth with his, slipping his tongue between your parted lips.

Papyrus proceeds to completely ravish your mouth, leaving no corner untouched. You shiver with pleasure when he sneaks a hand under your shirt to gently stroke your back.

You find yourself moaning into the kiss when he caresses a particularly tender spot with his tongue. He groans and clutches you tighter when your fingers unconsciously dig into the vertebrae of his neck. By the time he finally pulls away, you’re breathing heavily, staring at him with hooded eyes and bright red cheeks.

A large smirk forms on his face as he gently strokes your cheek. “and, now i’m seein’ red--my new favorite color.”

#my writing #undertale fanfiction #underswap #us papyrus #poor Reader had a rough night #but Papyrus made it all better #I love the idea of red being a favorite color of his #cause he loves seeing the Reader's blush #I've never written something like this before #so it was really interesting #I was nervous at first #but somehow it worked out alright haha #I really hope you like it Arci! ^-^

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hamilton-one-shots · 6 years

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Hamilton High School AU 2

(I’ll try to update this once a week, every Saturday)

Alexander sat down beside his brother and his friend, only because he didn’t have anywhere else to sit. Too many freshman crowding the place.

“Hi. I’m Hercules. I’ve heard a lot about you from Laf.” Alexander may have been Lafayette’s adopted brother for about four or five years by then, but he was determined to keep himself hidden from Lafayette’s friends and had done so successfully.

Alexander wasn’t interested in meeting his friends then and he wasn’t interested in meeting his friends now. “I’m Alexander. Don’t expect me to be like him,” he warned, pointing at Lafayette. “Because I’m not. He can be him, but I’m nothing like him.” He wasn’t exactly Lafayette’s biggest fan.

His brother sighed. “Must you be so rude? You just met him.”

“And I said hi. I don’t know what you expected. I told George and Martha that I was only going to be here for so long, anyways. You know how it is.”

Lafayette frowned. He knew exactly what Alexander meant. His less than subtle anger issues made it difficult for him to be allowed to attend a school for very long. “It’ll be different. I can feel it.”

Alexander sighed and rolled his eyes. He didn’t hate his brother. He just hated when people compared them, especially because they weren’t even related by blood. “Whatever.”

A few shouts attracted all of their attention and they turned just in time to see the kid from the fight and Thomas in a shouting match, though it was Thomas who was doing all of the shouting. The other kid, just like during the fight, was calm, an almost uncaring expression on his face as he and Thomas argued in front of the entire cafeteria. Before long, Thomas drew his fist back to hit and, once again, the smaller boy caught it and pushed him back before leaving the cafeteria.

Naturally, Alexander got up and followed, running out of the cafeteria and finding the boy walking down the hall, turning a corner. He followed him until he saw him sitting outside of the locker rooms, drawing in a sketchbook. Alexander stood beside him, trying to figure out what to say. “Uhh... What you did with Jefferson was pretty cool.”

“He’s a jerk. Ignore him.”

Alexander nodded slowly and squatted down, looking at him. “You look familiar... Do I know you from another school or something?”

The other simply pulled his hood over his head and it finally struck Alexander.

“I know you! You’re the kid from this morning! From outside!”

He tutted. “Yeah. The one whose art you ruined.”

Alexander rolled his eyes. “You’re going to get pissy about that and then break up my fight with Jefferson?”

The other scoffed. “It wouldn’t have been much of a fight. I’m basically the only person I know who can take him down.”

Alexander may have seen him in action, but it was still hard to believe. The kid was still small. He sat down beside him. “What are you drawing?”

“None of your business.”

“I just want to see.” He looked over his arm and saw the drawing of an candle on an old lamp with the hand holding it and another held over the flame. “Hey, that looks pretty cool. Maybe you can help me draw like that.”

“I thought I was a trash artist who just wanted to look cool.”

“I was just trying to pick a fight. Now I’m being nice. I’m Alex.”

“I’m not talking to someone who trashes art.”

Alexander groaned. Did this guy have to be so difficult? Actually, he kind of did to even attract Alexander’s attention. He was stubborn enough not to fight him, after all. “Fair enough. I’ll just sit here.” He sat in place, humming to himself and occasionally clearing his throat, trying his best to irritate the other.

After a few minutes, it seemed to work. The other sighed and reached into his backpack, pulling out a few sheets of blank paper. “Here. I’ll teach you, if you really want.”

“Thank you.” Alexander smiled cheekily.

“Yeah, yeah.” He rolled his eyes and gave the other a different colored pencils, putting away his prismacolors. “Those are easier to use, but they’re so much more expensive. I don’t want to waste them.”

And by that, of course, he meant that he didn’t want to waste them on Alexander, making him roll his eyes. “Whatever.”

The artist started showing Alexander how to draw another simple candle, the flame being the more difficult part for him. As much help as he was getting, it still didn’t look nearly as good as the realistic flame that the other was drawing.

“Hey, I’m not half bad.” He smiled, interrupted by a laugh.

“Aw, look. Johnny’s found himself another little boyfriend.”

The artist, John, as Jefferson revealed, snapped his colored pencil in his hand.

“What’s the matter? Upset that I found out about him?” He reached down and grabbed Alexander’s collar, pulling him to his feet. No, pulling him off of his feet. “What does he see in you, anyways? You’re just a little hothead.”

Alexander struggled in his grip. “What are you talking about, you loser?”

Thomas growled and threw Alexander to the ground, pulling his leg back to kick him. Before he could, John stepped between them, shoving Thomas down while he was off balance. It worked, but boy did it make him mad. Thomas got up in seconds and ran back towards John, grabbing his arms to hold him in place before kneeing him in the gut.

John cried out in pain, but kept himself on his feet.

Alexander got up and ran towards the cafeteria and got the only person who he knew could help, Lafayette. “Laf! Thomas is beating someone up. He needs help.”

Lafayette got up and followed Alexander to the gym hallway. All that mattered was that Thomas needed to be stopped.

When they got there, John was starting to lose against Thomas since he had him on the ground, kicking his sides as John tried to get back up.

Lafayette gasped and ran towards Thomas, slamming himself into him and shoving him to the ground, falling with him. Unfortunately, he wasn’t nearly as strong as Thomas, who shoved him off in seconds and stood up, getting ready to attack before Alexander jumped onto his back. He held on as best as he could until Thomas began moving backwards to slam into the wall. John pulled Alexander off to keep him out of the way before he began landing punch after punch on Thomas, moving way too fast for Alexander to keep track of. This kid really was stronger than he looked.

Still, he stopped when Thomas was on the ground, not one to fight while his opponent was down. Thomas stumbled to his feet and glared at John, spitting a mix of spit and blood at his feet. “Coward.” He stumbled away, John glaring at him as he left.

“I hate that guy...”

The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch and the beginning of last period. For Alexander, that was gym. And it was the same for John, he realized as he walked into the locker room with him.

“Uh.. Thank you for helping me out.”

“Don’t mention it. That guy is an idiot.”

Alexander nodded and got changed, going out to gym class with him and playing the stupid game that they had to do. After class, he got changed and walked home since Lafayette was staying a bit longer and couldn’t drive him home. He went up to his room and locked himself away, only coming downstairs when he heard the door open. It must’ve been Lafayette. He had to thank him for what he did.

“Hey, Laf, I-” He stopped at the bottom of the stairs as he noticed who it really was. “John?”

#hamilton #hamilton fanfic #alexander hamilton #john laurens #lafayette #hercules mulligan #thomas jefferson #2 #chapter 2

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chimchimchoo · 7 years

Text

Sightless :: 13 FINAL

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Word Count: 2,240

Pair: Yoongi x Jimin

Chapter: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 (of 13)

“On a typical Saturday, a near-fatal accident destroyed his eyesight.

Now Park Jimin feared Saturdays. Whether it was the most beautiful, clear day out or a rough, raging storm. Every Saturday, he would go into hiding, away from the world, away from any danger.

But then Min Yoongi shows up, picking up the little pieces of life Jimin lost and tries to show him that Saturdays can be, in fact, the safest day of the week.”

JIMIN

1 year later

Beads of sweat dripped down his temple as he finished up the last of the choreography, the music coming to an end. Grabbing the towel from the corner of the room, Jimin dabbed the sweat from his forehead and chugged down some water. “Excellent work Jimin, let’s retire for the day, we’ll go over the final details tomorrow.”

The dance instructor gave him a light pat on the shoulder as Jimin grinned, saying his goodbyes as he exited the room. Alone in the practice room, Jimin sat across the cold, wooden floor and glanced at his own reflection as he gasped for breath, his muscles strained and exhausted.

Since his surgery, Jimin got back into dancing again, his passion rose from the dead. About a half a year ago, he was noticed by a manager of a music company during one of his performances and was now recruited at the company after successfully graduating college. He spent hours a day following his passion, dancing and doing small performances around the city, his best friends would come to support each and every show. Nothing made him happier.

Except there was this emptiness inside of him, constantly reminding Jimin of what he lost a year ago. A person that meant the world to him.

Every day for the past year, Jimin searched for him. He tried calling Yoongi as soon as he got discharged from the hospital. His number had become disconnected. None of his friends knew of his whereabouts. It angered Jimin, that Yoongi didn’t say anything. He didn’t leave any source of contact, nothing for him to identify Yoongi with, not even a picture. He didn’t leave a damn picture.

At one point, he contacted the university. After struggling and trying to get the assistant to release his information, she eventually said that he no longer attended and apologized before hanging up. Ever since then, he roamed the streets with the longing hope he’d run into Yoongi again. But as days passed by while his friends watched him search for this boy in distress, they began to worry.

Despite Jimin being able to continue with his life and reach for his dreams, his best friends could see a lingering sadness hanging off of him, like something was taken from him.

After a year, Jimin stopped mentioning Yoongi. He stopped searching when he was out with his friends, he never spoke of him around anyone to show that he was perfectly fine without Yoongi. But as soon as he was alone, or when a Saturday came around, Jimin crumbled apart all over again. Yoongi was his support system, his comfort. Someone he loved. A presence that he enjoyed having around. He was everything to him and he lost all of it at once.

It felt like Yoongi was just a voice in his head, a person that never actually existed. There was nothing he had besides the heartbreaking letter to prove he was even real. Every stranger’s face he’d come across on the streets, he only hoped that one of them would turn their eyes toward Jimin and say it was Yoongi.

But a whole year had passed and he still never found him.

Exhaustion taking over his muscles, Jimin tiredly waddled out of the dance room into the hallway of the company. The day was coming to an end, employees were leaving. Jimin ran a hand through his pumpkin hair and turned a corner, abruptly slamming into a body. Apologizing quickly, Jimin helped the person collect the music books that scattered across the ground.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. Are you okay?” Jimin handed the last music book to the boy as they stood, watching his eyes widen in response.

The boy’s hair was pure white, his skin as light as sugar. His ears were decorated with a few earrings, a faint, handprint-shaped bruise wrapped across his neck. There were a few more scratches and bruises dusted across his skin. but amongst that, he was the most beautiful person Jimin had ever seen.

The boy’s mouth opened like he wanted to say something, but quickly closed it, taking the book from Jimin’s hand. Their fingers brushed, a jolt of electricity ran up his arm.

Jimin’s eyes flickered to the bruise on his neck. “Did something happen to you?” He asked as he lifted his fingers toward his neck, watching him flinch and back away. His dark, beady eyes stared into Jimin’s, searching them with a longing expression.

He didn’t know how long they stood there, strangely lost in each other’s eyes. When Jimin heard a shout from the hallway behind him, the boy retreated out of his stare and rushed around the corner without a word. Curiously, Jimin continued down the hall until he reached the manager's room, poking his head in. “Excuse me?”

The manager lifted his eyes up from the desk and smiled at his entrance. “Jimin, come on in.” He stepped into the small office, the desk piled with papers, framed awards hanging on the wall behind his manager.

“Did you hire someone recently? I just saw someone I haven’t seen before, he was a bit...strange.”

“Ah, you must be talking about Suga.” The manager responded as Jimin comfortably sat in the chair in front of the desk. “He’s been here for about a week now, I’m surprised you haven’t met him earlier. You must have been busy in the practice room as usual, haven’t you?”

Jimin gave him a guilty shrug. “You caught me. What does he do?”

“He’s a pianist, and a fantastic one at that. Actually, he came up to me one night with absolutely nothing and begged to work for my company. He showed me a small sample of his composing abilities, so we made an agreement that he can stay here for free as long as he worked under my name.”

“Huh...but his neck. Did you see his neck? He’s covered with bruises. What happened to him?” Jimin asked as the manager sighed, lightly shaking his head. Jimin didn’t usually ask so much about a person, but the curiosity got the best of him, he felt drawn to him already, like a magnet.

“He would leave the building every night, says there was something he needed to find. Something important to him. But he must have run into trouble a few nights ago, poor kid got strangled on the streets and was taken to the hospital. The doctor recalled that his larynx was damaged due to the severity of his injury. We don’t know how long it’ll be before Suga can talk again.”

Jimin’s eyebrows rose, a solemn expression washed across his face. “So you’re saying...he’s a mute?”

“I’m afraid so.”

----------

Jimin stared at his own reflection, water dripping down his cheeks as he breathed heavily. His vision grew hazy, the sounds of glass shattering and screams flashed in his mind.

“You’re going to be fine, Park Jimin.” He whispered to himself. “You’ve been through this day before, and you’ll be able to go through another Saturday as usual. Don’t let it get to you.” He splashed some more water across his face, turning off the sink afterwards.

After getting ready for the day, Jimin breathed in deeply and walked out of his dorm room and made his way toward the dance room. He passed a few employees, greeted them with a forced smile, reminding himself that no one was going to hurt him. Jimin stopped his tracks outside of a composing room, eyeing the white haired boy scribbling on some paper through the window.

A strange feeling tickled in his stomach as he watched him. He had the most delicate appearance, like a porcelain doll. The slightest touch could possibly shatter him. As Suga shifted around his seat, stretching out his bare arms poking out of the black tank, Jimin spotted a butterfly tattoo on one of his shoulders, causing the air to leave his lips.

A year ago, during a spring day, Jimin was eating barbeque with the boys, enjoying their lunch together. He caught a glimpse of a figure walking behind Taehyung with a butterfly tattoo on the man’s arm, same colors as Yoongi described. Dropping his chopsticks, he ran up to the man, screaming Yoongi’s name as the older glanced at him in confusion. Apologizing, the man backed away and rushed out of the restaurant.

Every time Jimin found someone with a butterfly tattoo, he never wasted a second to run up and ask them with a hopeful look. Each and every one of them ended up being a disappointment. Soon, he stopped asking, stopped causing scenes in public.

Just as Jimin was about to enter the composing room, the dance instructor approached him with a grin. “Are you ready? We have a lot to do today.”

“I…” He glanced at the boy through the window and back at his instructor. “Yeah, I’m ready. Let’s go.”

He turned on his phone.

2:07 AM

Sighing loudly as he body was splayed out across the dance floor, taking a break from his long hours of practice. Saturday was over hours ago. He could finally relax.

The phone lit up again, a loud ringtone interrupting the silence. He answered it and lifted the device up to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Jimin!” Taehyung screamed through the phone with a laugh, just how he usually greeted. “I got something to show you. I was going through all my pictures earlier today, because you know I have a habit of hoarding my selfies. God knows how handsome I am. I should be a model.”

“Tae, just get to the point already.”

“Well I found this picture I took a while ago that I wanted you to see. I just sent it to you.” Putting Taehyung on speaker, Jimin scrolled through his messages until a picture popped up. “Tae this isn’t funny, I don’t want to see a picture of you in your batman briefs. Maybe I shouldn’t have had that surgery. The things you’ve shown me in the past year…”

“Oh, wrong picture, I’m sorry! Forget you ever saw that.” Taehyung laughed awkwardly. “Okay, I sent the right one.”

Receiving the picture, Jimin glanced at it with a confused expression. It was a picture of him the night he called his friends to celebrate finding a donor before he found out it was a false alarm. He had a drink in his hand, his messy, pumpkin hair sticking up in the air as he was smiling at a person beside him. A person with mint hair.

“Tae, is that?”

“Yup!” Taehyung shouted through the phone. “I didn’t know I had a picture of you two. I must have been drunk when I took it.”

Zooming in on it, he got a clear image of the face, this too beautiful face with the biggest smile on it, glancing at Jimin with a loving expression.

“Jimin, are you there?”

His eyes grew wide in shock, his heart pounding. He hung up the phone and sprinted out of the practice room.

“He would leave the building every night, says there was something he needed to find. Something important to him”

The dots were beginning to connect together. The spark he felt when their hands brushed. The butterfly tattoo on his sleeve. His vocal chords were damaged, of course he wasn’t able to say anything.

His mouth went dry as he ran across the building, coming in front of the composing room he stood outside of earlier in the day. The room was empty, the lights were turned off. Jimin’s head shook back and forth as he glanced down the halls, trying to pick a direction and rushed down the left.

Where was he?

He ran and ran. He searched inside of every room, his heart sank deeper and deeper within each empty area. Until he skidded, coming to a halt and stepped backwards. Faintly, music came out of the piano room to his right as he approached the door, opening it slowly.

Breathing heavily, his hands growing cold, Jimin watched the white haired boy play, looking so ethereal. His arm had a butterfly tattoo drawn on it like how it was described in his memory, blue and purple. His fingers danced across the piano keys, his eyes closed and lost in the music. It was a song Jimin could never forget.

Butterfly.

“Min fucking Yoongi.” Jimin’s voice trembled in between his breaths. The boy’s hands slammed on multiple piano keys in surprise, glancing up at him with wide eyes. “Is it really you?”

The white haired figure stood up, slowly turning around until his dark eyes stared right into Jimin’s, guilt washing across his face. It was the same person as the picture, the same gentle features, the same face.

Jimin lifted his hands toward his neck, his fingers carefully tracing along the faint handprint. “You can’t speak...that’s why you couldn’t say anything earlier.” Closing his eyes, his hands moved to his cheeks, his eyes, nose, and lips. Jimin felt the all too familiar features of his face, pulling him right back to last year where he was only pictured as a shadow.

He pulled his hands away, looking into his dark eyes. It was Yoongi.

Jimin was so angry. He wanted to yell at him. He wanted to curse at him. He wanted to scream and ask why he disappeared. He wanted to tell him how much pain he was in, how long he searched for him. He wanted to, but he couldn’t.

He knew Yoongi had a reason. He knew in time, Yoongi would be able to explain everything. He trusted him. But right now, he was standing there, a real, physical being and not just a voice Jimin convinced was a figment of his imagination.

Jimin observed the fragile person that stood in front of him, taking in every little detail, finally putting a face to the voice and touch he was only limited to. “Min Yoongi…” He whispered as the boy glanced down at the ground, unable to make eye contact. “I missed you.”

As if Yoongi feared for the worst, thinking Jimin was going to hate him. As if he was afraid he would have forgotten him. As if that was all Jimin had to say to make him shatter into a million pieces with regret, his expression quickly changed, tears dripping down his cheeks, a pained sob coming from his throat. Yoongi tried to apologize many times, he tried to say things he wasn’t able to tell him a year ago, but nothing came out.

Jimin brushed away his tears, giving him a small, reassuring smile. “You know, I was right.” Yoongi glanced at him with a confusion. “You really are the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.” Jimin smiled. He felt himself finally being pulled together, his missing piece standing right in front of him. Jimin took Yoongi’s pale hands in his, entwining their fingers together, it was the same hands he held over a year ago. The same, warm skin he always held for comfort, or guidance, or just because he wanted to. Jimin’s longing for his touch after all this time was finally fulfilled.

Leaning forward, Jimin ever so gently brushed his lips against Yoongi’s chapped ones and finally felt whole again. He knew one hundred percent that this was the same Min Yoongi that stood in front of him many times before. The same one that came into his apartment one Saturday and saw Jimin in his most vulnerable state. The same one that taught him to grow out of his fears. The same one he truly, dearly loved all this time.

“Min Yoongi.”

The beautiful boy stared into his eyes, a single tear rolling down his cheek as Jimin gave him the biggest smile, his eyes turning into crescents.

“It’s good to see you.”

The End

#bts #bang sonyeondan #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #yoongi x jimin #yoonmin #fluff #angst #bts imagine #yoongi fanfiction #jimin fanfiction #allifanfic #sightless #blind!jimin jimin #yoongi #final #the end #ending

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iris-sistibly · 7 years

Video

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4R’s: Encantadia Season 2 (April 10, 2017 episode review)

Iris-message: As announced by GMA Encantadia on Twitter, we’re only going to have three episodes this week, so the week-ender episode will definitely be on Wednesday, as you all know it’s lenten, and Holy Thursday, Good Friday and Black Saturday will be our time to reflect and re-connect with our own Emre, our beloved God. Fam bam and I are prolly gonna do the usual stuff, Visita Iglesia, Station of the cross, the usual stuff, and I would most probably re-watch the Ten Commandments because I love that movie so much or the Prince of Egypt maybe. So in advance, may our long weekend be a meaningful one!

Episode 191

Recap:

How to fake it

Ybrahim started to throw a shade at Avria, Hagorn and Asval, but before this turns into a nasty, deadly match, Alena “humbled” herself and apologized on Ybrahim’s behalf. The peace talk continued, with Danaya trying to convince Avria that they have really come for peace. To be able to do that, Avria demanded to surrender all of the gems in their possession to her. Danaya assured that they aren’t going to use the gems against them, but Avria did not believe, she is fully aware that the diwatas do not trust her and vice versa. Avria ended the talk and told them to meet her in the battle field but Danaya stopped her and finally gave her what she wanted—the brilyante ng lupa. Ybrahim strongly opposed but Danaya stood firm on her decision and handed the gem over to Avria, but the latter also demanded for the remaining gems, Alena was ready to surrender hers if Avria vows not to hurt any encantado, and stop their evil schemes against Lireo in general, Avria told her she will think it over and did not get the water gem, at this point, Avria was convinced that Danaya was “sincere” of her desire for peace, the talk ended successfully.

Hearing the news about Alena, Danaya and Ybrahim going to Etheria to bargain made Pao Pao, Muyak and Ariana worried. Pao Pao knew Avria won’t settle for peace unless the sang’gres hand over the gems to her. The monarchs returned to Lireo, everyone was waiting for Danaya to spread the news. Rehav Manik assured that the Punjabwes are going to fight on their side, but Danaya told everyone that no war is going to take place, for she has surrendered the earth gem to Avria and this made the Etherian queen agree for a ceasefire. Though the talk was a success, Ybrahim was still worried, everyone knows that Etherians will never keep their promise and feared for that day when they will all be mercilessly killed. This had everyone worried as well, Alena shut Ybrahim and everyone up and asked the rest except the monarchs to leave them for awhile. Now that only Danaya, Alena, Imaw and Ybrahim were left, it was now time to tell the truth, Alena made a shield out of her water gem to make sure no one else will hear, Danaya revealed that she created an exact replica of her earth gem and the fake one was handed over to Avria, she also made sure that the replica works just like the real earth gem to make Avria believe that it is really Danaya’s brilyante. Ybrahim apologized and commended Danaya for coming up with that scheme, but he knew Avria is going to discover the truth eventually, Danaya could only hope by the time it happens, Emre and Cassiopeia has already succeeded with their mission.

To make him smile again

Ybrahim was studying the map of Encantadia, apparently he still wanted to seek revenge on Etheria, Ariana found him and told him how relieved she was that he made it back safely, Ybrahim asked her why, Ariana bluffed and told him that she doesn’t want him to get hurt but it only made Ybrahim ask more questions, Ariana and Ybrahim would have been placed in another awkward moment if Alena didn’t come, Ybrahim excused himself and told Ariana to call it a night. Alena had the chance to talk to Ariana, she had been listening to her conversation with Ybrahim and decided to confront the Punjabwe-a, Alena asked Ariana if she was in-love with Ybrahim, and although Ariana gave her an indirect answer, Alena knew she harbors feelings for the king. Alena is the most sensitive and observant among the sisters thus she knew that Ariana feels something for Ybrahim from the way she looks at him, to the way she acts towards him. Ariana apologized and made it clear that she doesn’t have any plans on stealing him from Alena, but Alena told her that everything between her and Ybrahim has long been ended, and all she ever wants is for him to be happy, thus Alena asked Ariana to make him fall in-love with her, Ybrahim has been through so much pain and Alena wants to see the man she once loved smile again, and the key she believes is Ariana.

The golden hourglass

Amarro and Lila Sari did not hesitate to reveal where Avria got her powers from, but Pirena already knew that and wanted to know where her army came from instead. Amarro and Lila Sari told her about the golden hourglass that Avria used along with the gems to help Etherians travel to the present time. The hourglass is a powerful tool that makes anyone travel from one timeline to another (or turn back time), Pirena became interested at this in hopes to turn back to the time when Mira needed her help the most, unfortunately, only Avria knows where it is. Pirena immediately came up with a plan but before leaving, she told Lila Sari and Amarro that Deshna is in Adjantao, a place Hagorn chose to hide the child. It was a lie, and Pirena had to do it because she’s still going to use her sister against Hagorn.

Meanwhile in Etheria, Hagorn suspected something about Danaya surrendering the earth gem wasn’t right, Asval set those thoughts aside but Hagorn has a point, the sang’gres aren’t stupid to hand over the gems without coming up with a plan. Asval’s suspicions rose, a Hathor came and whispered something to Hagorn, he left Asval who was still pondering over Hagorn’s words. Asval went to Avria and told her his doubts, to be able to confirm, Avria tested the gem out, it unleashed power, something that fake ones can’t. Avria was very certain she has the real earth gem.

The former king of Hathoria found out that Pirena was outside the Etherian palace, Pirena immediately asked Hagorn a favor to help her, Pirena wanted to enter the palace without anyone noticing. At first, Hagorn did not want to but Pirena threatened to tell Lila Sari where Deshna is which forced Hagorn to grant her request. Pirena made it inside, Hagorn warned her that he will be the one to punish her in case she gets caught. Pirena thanked her father and proceeded with her plan.

Rave/s:

💚 YES ALENA! Out of everything she has done, I think that one thing that makes me really proud of her character is that she has finally moved on (take note of the word, “MINSAN”) she has been through a lot of pain, she made mistakes in the past but in the end, she did not let her anger take control of her, she has grown so much from being a pabebe sang’gre, to a vengeful mother, to a confidently beautiful woman with a heart, and I couldn’t be more proud as an encantadik, I think she has the most beautiful character transition out of all other characters, her heart was once her Achilles’ heel, but look at her now! And I love how Gabbi is portraying the character these past few weeks, although it took a really long time, but I really have to say that she succeeded on merging her own personality with Alena’s. She has finally connected with her character, she herself witnessed everything Alena went through and this led her to finally understand and dig deeper into the character, and for that I am truly, genuinely proud of Gabbi. If I could hug Alena right now I swear I will do it and I’ll tell her how she makes me proud every single day, I hope everyone feels the same, every Alena fan, every AleBarro/YbraLena fan, every GabRu fan, let Alena be, because nothing is more satisfying than knowing your self-worth. Nothing is more awesome than to finally tell yourself that, “Finally, it’s over.” She chose to be free and she got it, now all I want is for her to find that true happiness and get that one precious thing she always wanted, someone who can give her the love she has been searching. Kebs na kung beauty and the Beast ang peg, let’s give AleMemfes a chance. Let’s give Gabbi a chance to prove that she is the next ultimate leading lady! Wish you luck Gab and Lance!

💛 DAYUM DANAYA YOU DA QUEEN! I love how this show redeemed itself from their “unacceptable” episodes for the past two weeks, the battle of who’s smarter, who’s better is definitely on! Love you queen, this show is finally telling everyone that it is not only Pirena who knows how to think.

🌷 Because I love this week-starter in general, I’m not gonna rant about anything. Y’all probably know that I’m still gonna shoot fires at Arra’s performance, BUT, I decided not to do that because I don’t wanna break my own bubble and lash out at Arra [again], I felt like I’m already getting used to her shitty performance, or maybe I’m not in the mood? Whatever! Acting-wise I am still uncertain and unconvinced that Arra deserves the role, but narrative-wise this is how it should be. Set aside all of your anger towards Ariana and focus on the story itself, remember Amihan’s sarkosi is inside Ariana’s body so technically Ariana is still Amihan, although her characterization is inconsistent as fuck, I would still go for this route but I do NOT agree with the making Ybrahim fall for Ariana part, I mean sure they feel some sort of connection with each other, but I would rather let them discover and realize their feelings for each other in a slow-burn kind of way than “forcing themselves to each other,” god! Amihan will never do such thing even if she loves her man so much. Duh. So you know, I’ve been really, really ranting about Arra and Ariana lately, and it’s no surprise to you guys, but you see, I’m already fed up at making the same old comments all over again, I feel like it’s pathetic how I’m stressing myself over an actress whom I’m not sure if she can really act. I had the chance to go over my previous reviews from last week and last, last week, and I just realized that rooting for Arra is just…pointless, and me ranting endlessly about her wouldn’t change the fact that they chose her to play the character, I mean they already chose her so they gotta stand up on their decision, panindigan nila ‘yan. Now before you react, let me just make myself clear, I’M TIRED AT HATING ON ARIANA, I’m sick at blabbing shits about Arra, and I’m so done at lambasting her story, telling everyone her story should be like this and that. I’VE HAD ENOUGH OKAY? I wanna stop because I have to, I hate being stressed, and Arra is my source of stress, so I have to get her out of my nerves dude, it’s bad for my health! I have come to this point where I am already starting to “accept” that Ruru’s going to do all the hard work for the rest of this whole Ybriana “romance”, and the only thing that’s gonna save Arra’s face in the show is the Amihan/Kylie flash backs, okay, noted. I’m just going to give all the hopeless chances on her, and take note, I repeat, those are “HOPELESS chances,” that means I no longer care, let her do her thing, I’m not expecting anything, period. If she does impress, good, I’ll rave about her, and if not, then I guess I’m just gonna sarcastically thank her forever for annihilating what would have been Amihan’s second shot at life, and until Arra proves me wrong, I am not going to see Ariana and Amihan as one character.

Rant/s:

No rants so far.

I’m really happy at Alena and Danaya’s progresses and I’m not gonna let a few minutes of crap ruin it! Nuh-uh.

Best performer/s for this episode: Gabbi Garcia 🌊

Rating: 9 out of 10💎s

Photo credits: From Twitter: @GMAEncantadia (Encantadia 2016-2017 official twitter acct) @gmanetwork (GMA Network); official website: gmanetwork.com @GMADrama (GMA Drama)

From Facebook: Encantadia 2016; official website: encantadia.com.ph

Video credits: GMA Network via YouTube & dailymotion

#tv series #encantadia #encantadiapanalangin #pirena #ybrahim #ybriana #ybramihan #4Rs

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5hfanfiction · 7 years

Text

Galaxies- Chapter 5 (Conversation)

According to science, most people are on the deepest part of their sleep at three in the morning, but unfortunately for Lauren, she had been wide awake staring blankly at the darkness, as the tick curtains had successfully blocked any source of light from entering the small hotel room.

She wasn’t even tossing and turning, like most people do when they’re having a hard time falling asleep, she just stayed there, motionless lost into thought, yet again.

She had thought about how unstable she was with Camila for the past few days, from the first time she had laid eyes on her, for the constant flash backs, to being affectionate with her, and to just completely losing her shit; she expected more from herself.

You know what they say about anger, and being caught in the “heat of the moment”? That when a person is angry, sometimes she doesn’t mean what she says, and says things she would later regret? Well as for Lauren, she had meant every single word, but she did regret saying it. She had regretted voicing it out, she had never really imagined their confrontation to be as upsetting at it was, but she couldn’t control herself.

Well, looking back to their heated argument, she did regret telling Camila that she was glad she had left, because if Lauren could turn back time, in all honesty even though she would never had admitted it then– she would’ve wished Camila never left her seven years ago.

She had dreamt of building a family with her, after getting married in the middle of the ocean like they’d originally planned, have 3 kids and travel the world. But of course now all she can do is think about all the “what ifs”, and she hated it.

She hated that she regretted making Camila cry, when she should be relieved about it. She hated how un-stable her thoughts were –her hating her to not hating her, she was indeed, going crazy.

She also couldn’t shake the thought about the conversation she had overheard, and how she lied to Camila, and she was guilty as she was at fault, but what was she supposed to do? Admit that she was eavesdropping? If it was her old self she would’ve apologized and would’ve told the truth, but she wasn’t the old Lauren anymore. She was Lauren 3.0 the prideful, snarky and cold-hearted bitch, a corporate Lawyer from the “corporate-firm of America.” But at the end of everything, what had eaten her thoughts was her curiosity, who was Martin and Laurelai?

And as most three a.m. works, she had realized that she really needed to let her past go.

As if on cue, she heard her phone buzz from the nightstand, causing to omit a small light across the dark room, she quickly turned to her side, and reached for the electronic device, turning on the night lamp in the process. She squinted her eyes for a brief moment before slowly letting it adjust to the sudden bright light, and a small smile immediately crept on her face as she saw the name on her home screen.

Lucy: Hey, beautiful. I just got home from the studio, they let me off early today. I’d probably stay in on a Friday night, I’m exhausted. How is Paris?Fait de beaux rêves belle demoiselle. ;)

Her smile widened into a grin after reading the girl’s message. Lucy had been consistent throughout the whole week, they had exchanged messages often, and occasionally called to check in, and if they could hold on to the subtle flirts and consistent conversations, even thru the distance for three months, who knows what would happen if both of would be back in New York, she was indeed hopeful.

She decided to call the girl, as she wanted to lighten her damp mood, and Lucy’s voice might help her go to sleep. Lucy picked up after a few rings, and as anticipated, Lauren’s haunting thoughts were immediately replaced by excitement and longing for the girl on the other line. They had talked about random things for an hour, and due to the fact that it was indeed three a.m. for Lauren, she might have brought up some existential topics, and Lauren did in fact grew fonder for the girl; she was in awe of Lucy’s ideas and opinions about the world, until Lauren’s eyes grew heavy and her body finally drifted to sleep.

“A fan of Renaissance art, I presume?” Lauren heard a woman’s voice, from behind her, as she was lost in admiring another painting from one of the many rooms and galleries of The Louvre. She had been strolling mindlessly, for hours, not even minding to check the time. She had enjoyed being lost surrounded by a huge collection of Art. She had gotten a free ticket from the hotel they stayed in, and thankfully, they had Saturday and Sunday as a free day, letting them enjoy the city of love.

Paris, was indeed beautiful, and it wasn’t overrated as other people might think. It was the home of the world’s largest museum, after all.

“Just admiring the allegory behind it,” Lauren said with a hoarse voice, tiredness evident not bothering to look at the woman behind her. It was the first time she had spoken after sleeping just merely 3 hours.

She had hated how her body would still automatically wake up in the early hours, even before her alarm. She didn’t even bother to try to fall asleep again, so she just decided to take a quick shower before heading out, also noticing that Camila was nowhere in sight, and it appeared that the younger girl did not even return after walking out.

“Lawyers really love analogy, huh?” Lauren was taken aback from the statement, as her head quickly turned to meet the gaze of a tall blonde woman which she immediately recognized. She was part of their tour group. The woman was indeed intimidating based on her appearance, but the genuine smile she was wearing showed otherwise. “Attorney Jauregui, it’s nice to run into you here.”

“No need for the formalities, call me Lauren.” She said holding her hand up which the other girl immediately held with her own for a firm handshake “Dr. Hansen, right?”

“Please, unless you’re in need of a consultation, please call me Dinah.” Dinah chuckled, causing Lauren to follow suit, but Lauren remembered something as she immediately scanned the room filled with other tourist, looking for a familiar figure. “I’m sorry for disturbing you, you looked like you were too lost in the painting. Are you here with a friend?”

“I really don’t mind. It’s nice to see someone familiar. And, no, I came alone.” She said returning her gaze to the tall woman. “How about you? Are you here with Ms. Cabello? I’ve seen you two getting really close.”

“Oh, about that,” Dinah said, furrowing her eyebrows, “Isn’t she your roommate? We had talked about enjoying the city together and we were supposed to meet at the Lobby at 10 in the morning. I also tried going to your room, but she wasn’t there too. So I thought both of you had gone out together.”

“I haven’t seen her last night, she had walked out in the middle of the night and she seemed really upset after a phone call.”

“It must’ve been him again.” Dinah sighed, it was evident that the tall girl had indeed gotten close to Camila. Lauren’s curiosity had immediately consumed her–a part of her just wanted to ask Dinah who she was referring to as “him”, but she didn’t want to pry as she had done enough damage last night. So she just stayed quiet. “Well, she must’ve stayed with a friend she had mentioned the other day.”

Lauren just nodded, as she moved towards the next painting, observing it and trying to take it in. Unfortunately, trying with all her might, she could not concentrate as her mind, yet again, was filled with thoughts of Camila. She had felt an uncomfortable flutter in her stomach, she was worried of the younger girl, almost forgetting that she had company as Dinah had followed where she had trailed off.

“I guess, I’ll leave you to admiring these graphic portraits,” Lauren heard Dinah’s voice, and Lauren felt guilt as she heard dejection towards the girl’s voice.

“Uhm… I think I’m done with the old arts for the day. How about you, still planning on the rest of the museum?” Lauren asked.

“Oh, no. Not a big fan of arts, even though I’ve spent more time analyzing people’s responses to particular drawings, it’s not really my thing.” Dinah said causing Lauren to nod with a smile. “I was planning to head out and explore the city, do you want to come with?”

Lauren thought about it for a second, she really wasn’t a fan of exploring places with other people, unless it was with her best friend. She had managed to be distant with people throughout the years, not earning new friends, but there was just something about Dinah that really reeled her in to knowing more about the tall girl, and so she just gave the girl a warm smile before uttering “Sure, I’d love too.”

Both women had managed to become a certified tourist after visiting various attractions in the city, they even found themselves enjoying different types wine and food at one of the city’s fair. Lauren learned a lot about the tall woman, she had learned that Dinah was also from New York, and she had gone to like the girl’s playful yet humble personality that reminded Lauren of her best friend. She really did enjoy Dinah’s company, and she could see herself befriending the younger girl, even after the end of the tour.

Their ventures came to a halt, when both of them decided to take a break. They ended up sitting in a park bench, taking in the perfect view of the river that had taken in the orange of the sun which was beginning to set. It was perfect, but Lauren’s thoughts were again lost, failing to take in the beautiful scenery in front of her.

“Penny for your thoughts.” Dinah said deciding to break the silence, as Lauren’s eyebrow’s furrowed, her hooded eyes met the woman’s concerned gaze.

“Huh? What?” Lauren asked, with confusion evident. She hadn’t really understood what Dinah had said.

“Okay girl.” Dinah confronted looking intently at Lauren. “You’ve been acting aloof and it appears that your mind is always somewhere else. Unless this is how you really are, but I doubt a high class lawyer as yourself would act like you on drugs, you guys are usually…,” Dinah paused, trying to find the right term, “sociable and all,” she concluded.

“So, you’ve profiled me this entire time we were together?” Lauren asked, with her brows still furrowed. She wasn’t really offended, but she was curious of what the other girl had thought of her.

“Yeah, I have a PhD in behavioral psychology, an MA in forensics, four bestselling novels, and I smell bullshit from miles away, so I can’t really stop myself from noticing if someone’s not….” Dinah paused yet again, appearing to be careful with her choice of words, “okay.”

With the last word, Lauren just released a sigh averting her eyes and letting it land on the pavement.

“Listen, I know we just met, but it’s best to talk about it with someone, than keeping it all bottled up inside,” Dinah persuaded, “I’m no telling you this as a psychiatrist or a shrink, or whatever society calls us.” She added as she slowly rested a hand on Lauren’s lap, causing the older girl to meet her sincere gaze. “I’m telling you this as a concerned stranger that can someday be a friend, and since we are both thousands of miles away from our loved ones, we are all we got.”

Lauren couldn’t help but smile at Dinah’s words, as her hear felt warm at the thought that someone still cared for her- a stranger. She had indeed needed someone to talk to, as her best friend was miles away. She thought about calling Normani, but she didn’t really want to worry her best friend who she knew was probably too caught up with her cases.

There was just something about Dinah that made her want to open up to the taller girl, besides the fact that Dinah was a world-renowned psychologist, but she’s gave off that approachable vibe.

“You are really good at this, ya’know?” Lauren sighed, yet again, averting her eyes from the shared gaze, letting set on the now red sky.

“And I’m the last person to judge, and you don’t have to worry about confidentiality. I might be loud at times, but I’m a great listener and I actually do that for a living.” Dinah tried again, but Lauren just remained silent, as she stared blankly at the sky causing Dinah to sigh in defeat.

“Okay, if you change your mind, you know where to find me and you can talk to me whenever.”

Silence surrounded them for a few minutes until Lauren noticed that Dinah was preparing to stand up, Lauren released a deep sigh, before deciding to open up.

“Have you ever been in a situation where you thought you’ve moved on from something, and you thought you got your life all figured out, but then something from your past just came back, and you just begin to doubt everything, and you suddenly realize you are unhappy?” Lauren asked, causing to Dinah readjust her position in the bench, now angled to the side facing Lauren, as if wanting to hear her clearly.

It was silent for a few minutes, before Dinah finally took in Lauren’s question as she was taken off-guard, “Does this past have to do with a person, an event perhaps?”

“Kind off? Yes, I guess… I just, it’s hard because… I really don’t want to sound ungrateful, but I don’t know. I have everything that money can buy, but there’s just something missing. And I just wake up every day, and it’s just, it feels like a routine.” Lauren sighed, and Dinah nodded in understanding, she could see Dinah’s intense yet caring gaze from the side of her eyes, making her feel safe and heard.

“How long have you been having these feelings and thoughts?”

“Just recently….like I was okay with it, y’know, I was just living my life in New York, just haven’t really bothered complaining about everything, I just…lived every day without giving a shit about anything, and well, when I came here.. on this tour, these thoughts came to haunt me every single day,” Lauren said with conviction, remembering the struggle she had with sleeping and concentrating for the past week.

“So, you’ve mentioned about this past of yours, have you tried talking about it with someone before? A family member? A friend perhaps?”

“No, I really thought I’ve moved on from it, it’s been seven years. And just, when I saw her it just came back. All the pent up anger, the hurt and all that shit.”

“So, it is a person..” Lauren just nodded in response, she was taken aback on how open she was with the taller girl, “and seeing her triggered all of these feelings for you, I’m guessing you never had closure?”

And it hit Lauren, she was still hung up with her ex for years because she didn’t really had the chance to confront her. She took a deep breath before uttering a breathy, “Yeah…” as she trailed off. Lauren took a glance on Dinah seeing her nod in response.

“Well.. Mostly people hold on to something when if it’s left open ended, and some people just can’t let go without being given the chance to officially…” Dinah paused causing Lauren to look at her, causing both of them to instantly lock eyes, “Let go, and say goodbye to it.”

–

The walk towards the hotel was silent, but it wasn’t awkward. Dinah seemed to understand that Lauren needed time to think through the conversation they had.

Lauren did. She had been thinking about a lot of things, but for the first time, she was thankful she had someone to share her thoughts with, and that conversation really got through to her. She appreciated Dinah’s presence, as she had realized her best friend’s absence was already sinking in on her.

And for the first time that week, she was engulfed in a warm hug, a hug that she hadn’t initiated —a hug just for her, and it made her feel safe and cared for. She was thankful for Dinah, and everything that happened that day – from the early conversation with Lucy to earning a new friend, was all she needed to realize what she had to do.

The moment she walked inside her empty hotel room her thoughts were brought to a conclusion, her mind set on doing what was long overdue. She sauntered over to her side of the room and rummaged through her luggage until she found the pouch containing a gold bracelet, she stared at it for minutes, taking in on every detail of the material she had kept for years before finally mumbling, “I’m letting you go.”

“Stoo…oop… Babbeeee, pleaseee,” Camila squealed in between laugh, she tried her best to escape Lauren’s hold on her as the older girl continued to tickle her sides.

“Not until you admit that my fart doesn’t smell like rotten eggs, but yours does,” Lauren said continuing to tickle the girl beneath her.

“Okaaaay,” Camila pleaded still giggling while shaking and twisting nonstop.

“Okaay, what?”

“You….r fart doesn’t smell like rot…ten eggs, buuu…t min..ne do..es,” Camila stammered still struggling to utter the words while laughing loudly. “Now staaahp!” She pleaded, and as soon as Lauren stopped tickling her, she pushed the older girl with all her strength causing Lauren to fall off the bed. “But yours smell like a dead rat,” she teased Laughing at her girlfriend who was caught off guard.

Camila immediately jumped off the bed and ran towards the door leaving Lauren on her ass alone on her bedroom floor, “You better run!!! Oh you’re going to regret that!!” Lauren shouted as she quickly got on her feet chasing after her girlfriend.

She hurriedly made her way downstairs, trailing after her laughing girlfriend. As soon as she caught sight of the girl who was running towards the backyard, Lauren sprinted after her. She was struggling to breathe, and even though she was her school’s basketball captain, she was having a hard time chasing after her clumsy un-athletic girlfriend. Both of them were running in circles at Lauren’s huge backyard, laughing hard and at one point Lauren even tripped on a rock, causing her girlfriend to literally roll on the floor while laughing.

After minutes of chasing each other like Tom and Jerry, Lauren was able to catch up on Camila when she had noticed the younger girl had lost her balance, Camila almost tripping on her own foot. Lauren sprinted like her life depended on it, and she immediately wrapped her hands around her girlfriend’s waist before Camila fell on the ground, lifting her up in the process, “You really thought you can outrun me without tripping on your face?”

“Lauren, put me doooown!!” Camila shouted, squirming on her girlfriend’s tight hold.

“Dead rat, huh? Let me show you what a dead rat smells like when I tickle you to death,” Lauren started walking slowly step after step, as she still had her girlfriend in her tight hold. Camila started to squirm harder even swinging her legs, but still careful not to hurt her girlfriend, both of them continued giggling until they fell on the ground after Lauren finally lost her balance.

Lauren found herself on top of Camila, both of them just couldn’t stop laughing. Lauren, slowly lifted her own weight, both hands were propped on the ground in each side, caging her girlfriend from under her.

And in that moment, both of them were locked in each other’s loving gaze, as their laughs slowly died down. Lauren felt the whole damn zoo dancing in her stomach, she stared at her girlfriend’s mesmerizing brown eyes, it was a common color, but for Lauren it was the most beautiful of all.

See, Lauren saw past all the physical aspects her girlfriend possessed; sure she was beautiful, but Lauren always see beyond people, and after knowing the girl beneath her, she could never, in a million gazillion years, imagine how she had gotten the most beautiful soul to fall in love with her.

Lauren took a deep breath, as she slowly rested her forehead on her girlfriend’s, “I still can’t believe you’re mine,” she whispered, causing her girlfriend to smile. Damn, that sweet smile would be the death of her.

“Me too, I love you so much.” Camila uttered sweetly, making Lauren melt at how sincere her girlfriend was. The words were simple and no matter how many times Camila confessed her love to her, she would still get that same overwhelming feeling.

“I love you, too.” They stared in each other’s eyes for what felt like an eternity, before Lauren slowly leaned in, but before her lips touched her girlfriend’s lips, Camila pushed her off causing her to land on her side.

“What in God’s name!” Lauren’s eyes widened when it landed on her mother’s unimpressed face. “Lauren Michelle!!”

Lauren and Camila shared a knowing look before they scrambled on their feet, dusting off and straightening their clothes in the process, “she started it,” Lauren quipped with a childish voice, pointing at Camila, whose jaw dropped in disbelief.

Lauren’s mom tried her best to maintain her strong demeanor, it was hard not to laugh at how cute her daughter was acting, “I swear I did not raise you for 17 years just to act like a 4 year old!” her mother scolded walking towards them, “and look at your shirt, you are washing that yourself, young Lady! And you’re even blaming this poor little girlfriend of yours,” her mother said, draping a hand on her girlfriend shoulder, “I don’t know how can you put up with my daughter here, but I wouldn’t be surprised if you left her for someone more mature.”

“Mom!!!” Lauren gasped in disbelief causing both her mother and girlfriend to laugh.

“What, I’m serious, I’m just telling Camila her options until you stop acting like a child.” Her mother stated trying her best to act serious, causing Lauren to glare at her mother.

“Mom, I’m not acting like a child!” Lauren countered.

“Well, tell that to Marlyn who’s still washing your underwear for you,” her mother said, causing Lauren’s jaw drop as her heat spread on her cheeks. She swore she just wanted to die right then and there.

“Oh my god mom! Seriously, stop, you are embarrassing me in front of my girlfriend!” Lauren said, shaking her head while covering her tomato colored face.

“What? I’m just letting your girlfriend know what her future would look like if she still decides to stay with you,” causing Camila to just laugh at the mother and daughter exchange, “anyway, are you staying for dinner, Mija?”

Camila shook her head, “I can’t, my mom’s cooking tonight, and I better head home now it’s getting a bit late.”

“Oh okay, Mija,” Lauren’s mother nodded sending Camila a sweet smile, ”I’ll leave you too alone for a minute to say your goodbyes, I know how you kids are nowadays, it’s like one of you is leaving on a jet plane when your both just going to see each other the next day,” her mother added, shaking her head, “and Lauren, after kissing your girlfriend goodbye, please go to your room and change into something decent, your guests will arrive in an hour.”

“What guests?” Lauren’s brows furrowed in surprise, as she started making her way towards inside their house leaving her mom and girlfriend arm in arm trailing from behind her.

“Didn’t I tell you? A university scout called your father last week and he invited them for dinner tonight.”

“Do you happen to know what university it is?” Lauren asked, grabbing two water bottles from their fridge, handing one for her girlfriend before uncapping hers and downing the contents of the bottle.

“I think your father mentioned something about huskies?” upon hearing the last word, Lauren spat the water she was drinking from her mouth, causing it to splatter on her face.

“Oh my god!!” she shouted, not even bothering to wipe the water on her face, “You got to be kidding me!! “University of Connecticut?!”

“Yeah, that,” her mother nodded casually, unhooking her hand on Lauren’s girlfriend, as she retrieved a cloth from one of the kitchen drawers, throwing it to her daughter.

“Mom! Why didn’t you tell me sooner!” she said, wiping off the splatter on her face.

“Well, you weren’t that excited when other University scouts went here.”

“Because they weren’t my dream school mom!”

“Well, yeah whatever, say your good byes so you can take a shower at least,” her mother shrugged, walking back up to Camila, giving her a side hug and a kiss on the forehead. Lauren’s heart melted at the sweet interaction, as she loved the fact that her parent’s treated her girlfriend as part of their family. “Bye, Mija. Tell your mother I said Hi.”

“Will do.” Camila said, sending a sweet smile towards Lauren’s mom, before the older woman disappeared into the living room leaving the two girls alone.

Lauren made her way towards her girlfriend, immediately wrapping her hands on her girlfriend’s waste possessively, “I’m so happy for you, babe,” Camila said, as she stared, yet again, on her girlfriend’s warm loving eyes.

“Thanks baby, but I really wish you could be here tonight.” Lauren pouted, causing Camila to smile at her girlfriend’s childish antic.

“Yeah me too. But you know how my mom is.” Camila sighed, leaning in to kiss her girlfriend letting it linger for a few seconds before pulling back to meet Lauren’s now puppy eyes. “But you can come over after dinner, I want to give you something.”

Lauren quirked her eyebrows suggestively earning a playful shove from her girlfriend, “not that you perv!” causing both of them to laugh.

Lauren agreed to meet her girlfriend after dinner, before walking her out towards their front door – but of course she had given her a sweet and yet passionate kiss that would possibly linger on her girlfriend’s lips, maybe she would really get that something later that night.

The dinner lasted for two hours, Lauren’s dad had prepared a Cuban meal and also used his world class grilling skills, and despite of just coming home from a 42 hour duty at the hospital, he wanted everything perfect for her daughter. The head coach personally went to their house with some other coaches, offering Lauren a full scholarship which Lauren happily accepted right off the bat. She was expected to start training a week after graduation, and Lauren was more than excited, even though she wanted to spend the last days of summer before college with her girlfriend and friends, she knew they would understand.

She had found herself in her girlfriend’s room at 12 midnight, after sneaking out and skillfully climbing up through the window, like she had done a million times even before they had started dating.

As soon as Lauren got off the window, she melted at the sight of the younger girl with a messy bun wearing a star wars onesie, lying on her stomach reading a book. Camila immediately felt Lauren’s presence as she jumped off the bed running towards her girlfriend and wrapping her hands around her neck.

“Hi baby, You made it!” her girlfriend whisper-yelled, cautious as to not waking up anyone at their house.

“Of course, anything for my princess,” she said before greeting her girlfriend with a kiss on the nose.

Camila then grabbed her hand, carefully leading them both onto the younger girl’s bed. Camila sat first with her feet dangling on the side, she patted the empty space beside her gesturing her girlfriend to sit. Both of them sat in comfortable silence in the dim lit room, having only Camila’s bedside lamp as the source of lighting.

Lauren felt Camila shift to her side, now facing her and in an instant she followed suit, causing both of them to stare at each other for the umpteen time that day.

“Uhm, I know this isn’t really something.” Camila said, as Lauren had noticed that the younger girl was fumbling on something on her wrist. “But I had this ever since I was little, I couldn’t really remember who gave this to me, but I want you to have it.”

Lauren’s eyes widened as her eyes finally took in what her girlfriend had done. Camila had removed her golden bracelet from her wrist and Lauren knew how important that bracelet was to Camila, “Babe, Noooo. I can’t take that, you literally don’t take that off you, like ever.”

“I want you to have it.” Camila said sincerely, un-phased on her girlfriend’s reaction.

“Babe…” Lauren said, looking at her girlfriend worriedly. It wasn’t because she did not appreciate the gesture, but for her it was too much, Camila was giving her something that the younger girl held on to for years.

“Please, babe hear me out….” Camila pleaded, causing Lauren to nod in response, “I know we’re both headed off to college in a few months and I might get accepted into UCLA, and I just…, I want this to remind you that wherever you are, you’ll always have a part of me with you. I love you Lauren… and please, always remember that whatever happens in those years that we might end up far from each other, you are engraved permanently in my heart…. you are it for me.”

Lauren just stared at her girlfriend in awe, trying to comprehend every word she heard, every word had stuck in her head like a broken record; Camila was hers. Her heart was doing somersaults at that moment, and then she knew, she wanted to spend the rest of her life with the girl in front of her.

“I love you…” Lauren said with all of her emotions, “and Camila Cabello,” she added, as she gently placed her hands on each of her girlfriend’s cheeks, and before leaning in she was able to mutter “you are it for me too.”

And that night, aside from the bracelet, Lauren had received another something from her girlfriend.

Lauren heard the hotel door open and shut, startling her, yet again, from the faint memory. She had hoped it was the last one, as her heart could not take it anymore.

She heard careful footsteps slowly approaching her direction, she immediately realized Camila was back. But in that moment, her heart was beating normally, no more anticipation, no more palpitations, instead she was calm and collected. The earlier conversation she had with Dinah had gotten through her troubled mind, and as simple as it seems, it had armed her into facing the deepest part of her past, hoping to put it all behind her.

As soon as she met Camila’s gaze, she uttered the words that would finally set her caged heart free “Can we talk?”.

A/N

So… another 5k words of pure word dumps and a three day update woah. I’m really sorry this sucks, but I legit just write without even looking back.

I’m currently learning my third Language, Japanese and it’s messing with my subject verb agreement. Lol

Is the pacing good so far? Please let me know.

P.S: always remember, talk to someone if you feel troubled, and if you feel like you are alone, my inbox is always open. I swear I’m a good listener.

Sincerely,

Psychology graduate

-N

#UPDATE #series #AU #camren #angst drama #romance fluff #submission #Galaxies

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aletterinthenameofsanity · 7 years

Text

Dear People Who Underestimate Neville Longbottom,

I want to talk about Neville Longbottom, the pureblood who everyone treated like a squib. I want to talk about a boy that everyone shunted to the side, the boy who everyone saw as powerless and a nuisance, the boy who sat there in a class for seven years with a teacher that was his greatest fear, the boy who walked into the Forbidden Forest at night with Hagrid and didn't shed a single tear.

Neville stood up to his classmates because he thought they were doing wrong and he wanted to prove that he could do something right.

When Seamus came back from Charms with soot and minor burns all up and down his face and arms, Neville quietly took him and Dean (who wouldn't release his hold on Seamus' hand) aside to the greenhouse and showed them the bubotuber plants and how they worked. He quietly told them all about the plants, pride showing through his nervous whisper. Neville wasn't very good at most of their classes, but Herbology he excelled in.

Let's think about how nervous he was to enter the Forbidden forest but still did it anyway.

Neville Longbottom was a child, just like Harry Potter, and then he was a teenager, just like Harry.

He did not come to Hogwarts where groups of people would automatically vilify and lionize him, expect him to be a hero- he came in tripping over his robes, losing his frog, and just generally causing a mess. First impressions are nasty little things, and that's how Hogwarts greeted him. That's the clumsy memory that most chose to hang on to when they thought of Neville Longbottom. Not the fantastic Herbology grades, or his support of Harry, or his victory at the Ministry- just little Neville Longbottom tripping over his too-long robes.

Children can be cruel, and Neville spent the next few years being called useless and squib and 'Puff.

Everyone said Neville was a talentless Hufflepuff- he took it stride. Hufflepuffs were fair, and hard-working, and loyal. Neville would have been glad to be put in Hufflepuff, where everyone cared about one another and supported each other.

During his third year Millicent Bulstrode plopped herself down next to him while he was studying and said "So, Longbottom, mind telling me the answers to the Herbology homework?" He smiled and started in on a monologue while she stole bites of the biscuit he'd snuck in. When she nodded at the end and gruffly thanked him he didn't expect she'd be back, but he was still proud that he'd managed to successfully teach someone something.

(He wasn't completely worthless.)

When she returned the next week he grinned and offered her a bite of his biscuit.

It became their thing, meeting every week with Neville's snuck in biscuits and Millicent's Herbology textbook. It continued through that year the next year when Neville would meet Luna Lovegood and he would bring her too. It was quite a sight, the bare-footed turnip-wearing blood traitor and one of the future members of the Inquisition Squad sitting side by side and debating the existence of Nargles and Crumple-Horned Snorkacks, all the while discreetly eating burnt biscuits that Neville had brought in.

Neville knew things about Luna and Millicent that no one else did.

He knew that Millicent's family, the Bulstrodes, were not Death-eaters but rather a neutral family. He knew that underneath her cool, gruff demeanor she was scared, just like everyone else, but she chose to hide it better. Millicent was cunning, a perfect snake to the eyes of everyone, but Neville knew she was more than that. She wasn't a lion or a snake, no, Millicent was something much different, something uniquely admirable- like a dragon. She joined the Inquisition Squad to feed information to Neville and Luna, and she was the one who summoned Dobby (who she'd been told about by Neville, who'd been told by Harry in one of his stories of second year) and told him about what was going on. Neville knew that Millicent could see thestrals but chose to hide it because she knew what they meant.

He knew that Luna Lovegood, underneath her turnip-earrings and spiral glasses and bare feet, embodied what Ravenclaw stood for in every way, even if no one else could see it. Integrity and honor- Luna held these qualities in spades. He knew that she always wore one sock because her mother had, that she preferred apple juice to pumpkin and burned biscuits to fresh. He knew that Luna truly believed in the creatures she talked about, not because she was insane or innocent, but because her mother and father had told her about them.

He became friends with a snake and an eagle. He was a lion, so together that made them a griffin.

Millicent raised an eyebrow when he burst into giggles one day in library as he thought of that. She didn't say anything about it, just waiting for him to calm down.

"It's the Nargles," Luna whispered, and a corner of Millicent's mouth quirked upwards.

(Millicent knew that Neville's parents were in St. Mungo's because of Bellatrix Lestrange. She knew that he felt happiest and most comfortable in the greenhouses. She knew that he'd witnessed the death of his grandfather and that was why he could see thestrals. She knew that Millicent knew how Neville didn't want to be a hero, never had, but that he just wanted someone to tell him he was brave.

She thought that was silly, that Neville was more than brave in his own right, but she held her tongue. Slytherin did teach a few useful skills.

Luna knew that Neville was kind, and that he was loyal. She knew that he loved chocolate. She knew that he didn't belong in Hufflepuff, as he occasionally mentioned- his strength was brave, and constant, and it wasn't typical Hufflepuff or Gryffindor, but she knew that he was a lion, and that one day everyone else would see it.

Neville wasn't the only person who paid attention to his friends.)

When it came to Dumbledore's Army everyone was shocked to see Neville grow from the bumbling first-year he was to firing spell after spell to get it right.

(First impressions are nasty little things, remember? None of them paused to consider Neville in his second, third, or fourth years. Not even Ginny, who had seen him at the Yule Ball after he'd spent ages practicing, realized the man he was growing into. No, that distinction belonged to Luna, who smiled that distant smile of hers as he cast a successful Disarming Spell, and Millicent, who wasn't even in the room.

No, people saw Neville and they could only think of him tripping, stumbling over the hem of his robes as he lunged for his lost toad.

Millicent and Luna looked at him and they saw strength.)

Neville's happy thought was last year, when he was preparing to ask Ginny to the Yule Ball, and Millicent and Luna had taught him how to dance. Millicent had laughed, once, and had genuinely smiled at him a few times as she taught him to waltz. Luna taught him how to dance like a bird, to dance with the lights that floated above their heads.

His Patronus was non-corporeal.

(Millicent, in the times she practiced alone after hours, Neville and Luna teaching her what she could not learn from Umbridge, thought of afternoons in the library and burnt biscuits and distant smiles.

She managed a non-corporeal Patronus, and Luna and Neville grinned at her.

Luna thought of kind Snakes, smiling Lions, and Crumple-Horned Snorkacks.

Her Patronus was a rabbit, a creature equally at home on earth and in spirit.)

Let's talk about how Neville was able to pull the Sword of Gryffindor out of the Sorting Hat not because he was the only one who was willing to yell at Voldemort but because two years ago a girl with a faraway smile and turnip-earrings spent Saturdays teaching him about Thestrals.

Because one year ago he ran into the Department of Mysteries on the panicked words of a friend and confronted his parents' torturer.

Because three years ago a teacher tortured a spider in front of him and then afterward sat him down with a cup of tea and told him that emotion was not weakness- hatred, anger, and sorrow were just as powerful as love, politeness, and joy.

Because for the past year he'd become a General, not because he wanted to but because he would not let younger kids get hurt for nonsensical reasons.

Because four years ago a girl, his supposed enemy, had plopped herself down and listened to him talk, all the while stealing bites of his biscuit.

Because seventeen years ago his parents were tortured into insanity because they'd dared to go against the ideals of the families they were a part of.

Because six years ago he stood in front of his only friends and dared them to knock him down.

He did not pull that sword out nicely- he yanked it out, pouring out his anger and frustration and sorrow into the movement. He screamed at Voldemort, shouting out in defiance.

Defiance was what Neville was, in a word. When they told him he was talentless, a squib in wizard's robes, he got the highest Herbology grades in their year. When they told Neville that he was clumsy and friendless, he found his own friends in the corners of libraries and the crumbs of burnt biscuits. They said he would never amount to anything and he became one of the three Generals in Dumbledore's Army, and then, after Ginny and Luna both disappeared, became the sole leader of an army of desperate students.

Neville Longbottom became a leader without knowing of the prophecy that could have branded him the Boy-Who-Lived. He became a hero not because he was destined for it or because a headmaster trained him for the position but because Neville Longbottom had spent the last seventeen years of his life being underestimated and torn down and the only people who had ever cared about him were being hurt.

Neville had been spending so long defying everyone and their expectations that when Voldemort called on Neville to join him Neville had no trouble fighting back.

Let's talk about how later on in the fight he fought back-to-back with Millicent, who shot off Stunning Spells that hit his opponents as much as hers.

Let's talk about how he smiled at her at the end before they ran into the Hall after everyone else, and how she nodded grimly back at him.

Gryffindors and Slytherins weren't supposed to be friends, but let's talk about how as soon as Neville bought his flat in London Luna and Millicent were the first to visit, Luna in her turnip earrings and Millicent carrying a familiar tub of burnt biscuits.

Neville accepted the biscuits with a smile and invited them both in. They spent the afternoon eating the biscuits and discussing who they thought was going to be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor.

Luna, Millicent, and Neville- a Ravenclaw who believed in what had proven impossible, a Slytherin who would rather hang out with a Lovegood and a Longbottom than anyone who would advance her station, and a Gryffindor who'd fought side-by-side with a Slytherin.

Who could have predicted that?

(Part 4/?)

#neville longbottom #luna lovegood #millicent bulstrode #gryffindor/slytherin friendship #gryffindor pride #inter house unity #inter house friendship #courage #defiance #hannah abbott #augusta longbottom #thestrals #slytherin pride #ravenclaw pride #neville longbottom is a bamf #millicent bulstrode is a bamf #luna lovegood is a bamf

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brockinginthefreeworld-blog · 7 years

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Innaugural Request

Today begins the next chapter in the life of my favorite states, The United States of America. I am pledging to do my part in ensuring that our nation does not devolve into a bottomless hellscape, hoping for the best, and kicking things off with a visit to Washington, D.C., to be a part of the Women’s March on Washington. Not being a woman, I have my own reasons for being there, and I will also be a surrogate for the women in my life unable to attend.

In preparation for the event, and however many demonstrations of who knows what sort that will most likely be necessary in the coming years…

I have a message, and a plea to all the demonstrators and protestors in D.C., and across the country – Friday, Saturday, and for all time:

Be informed, be heard, be respectful of wherever you are and its citizens, and most importantly – present yourself as a person who is happy living by the convictions you wish your ideological opposite would live by.

I wasn’t able to make it to the original March on Washington for obvious reasons (time machine broken) – but here’s why I have an indelible impression of that gathering. Upon listening to Dr. King’s speech, I get the feeling he was a thoughtful, dignified person who treated those with whom he disagreed respectfully. When he speaks of black and white children playing together, I think – ‘yeah, I’d want my kids to play with his kids. They’ll probably learn more than at our house.’ He sounds like someone pleasant, with a good soul, and a person I’d want to be around. I will gladly listen to this person, and allow him to enlighten me with noble truths.

In February, 2006, in Buenos Aires, I stumbled into a demonstration of hushed, older women covered in black veils walking together through the streets. These “Mothers of the Disappeared,” have been marching regularly, in silence, since 1978 to protest the disappearance of their children, husbands, and friends at the hands of a military junta. Some of the original marchers also disappeared, but their displays emboldened dissidents, and support of the regime eroded enough to bring down the oppressors by 1983. Their efforts continue to bring forth new information on their abducted family members and the children stolen along with them. I barely spoke Spanish, and had little to no historical context of the display I witnessed, but it impressed me enough that I just sought out an article on Argentina’s turbulent relationship with political dissent, 10 years later.

You know what I remember about the 2008 phenomenon of Occupy Wall Street? Jokes! I remember obnoxious youths behaving like bad houseguests. I remember no cohesive or actionable solutions being voiced. I am positive that there were some wonderful, articulate, well-mannered people at those demonstrations – but they were drowned out by the louder and less informed. Most of a decade later – the financial services industry and their lobbyists seem to be doing just fine, so I don’t think the protests made much of a dent.

On election night in November, after the race had been called, in an act of masochism I decided to see what was going on over on Fox News. A field reporter stood in Times Square, describing a spontaneous protest against Donald Trump’s victory to the Fox anchors. The anchors asked about the sentiment of the protestors. What did they have to say? The reporter explained that he had not been able to get a clear sense, and hadn’t had much luck getting anyone to talk to him. He then continued trying to get a man-on-the-street interview, was repeatedly dismissed, and then told by one man that he had “nothing to say to you” (Fox News). The anchors replied that it was a shame that the man had turned down a chance to speak live, directly to a national audience larger than any other news network’s. That’s a pretty fair point, even if it was on Fox. Let’s go to the replay. A “demonstrator” had “nothing to say” to the very audience he was ostensibly in opposition to.

Sure, Trump will be president, and I believe he deserves to be yelled at – but his power, (and his ego) relies upon enough public support to get Congress and a bureaucracy to cooperate with him.

Here is my point: if you show up at a public demonstration, YOU ARE THE LIVING, MOST VISIBLE EMBODIMENT OF YOUR BELIEFS AND YOUR SIDE OF AN ARGUMENT. Presenting nothing more than a middle finger to someone who has as much say in a decision as you is what got us to this point in history. If you’re not out to win hearts and minds, you’re just out for a walk. Can anyone argue that we need more, not less civility in this country? More listening, less shouting?

If you truly believe that you are right and righteous, shouldn’t your disposition reflect that? Yes, there are times when nothing short of outrage can be expressed – but people with far more troubles than you have displayed some decorum and gotten more done through peaceful demonstrations. And billions, literally billions of people you share this planet with don’t even have that chance. MLK, Ghandi – their influence continues to do good generations after they left us. It is a slap in the face to those who have less control over their lives than you do when you bloviate false equivalencies, or de-value your opportunities, or worse – say to hell with it and walk away from anything but your own precious self-expression and pursuits.

Even the hopelessly deplorable – and some people are – those with nothing but hate in their hearts, and no respect for anything but their own desires – have children who are not hopelessly lost to greed and anger. But I doubt there are many happy homes amongst them. When presented with a glimpse of mutual respect resulting in pleasant interactions, and favorable outcomes; when they see someone advocating social justice who exudes serenity and is capable of simply having a good day (a foreign concept to too many households in this country) – those children just might be left with a good impression. And that should be the aim of everyone trying to change someone else’s mind.

A decade ago, I posted an idea to a discussion of a protest during the Wal-Mart Shareholders Meeting that takes over my former homeland of Northwest Arkansas every spring. I posited that perhaps in addition to the slogans on signs held aloft in an easily avoidable gathering place, perhaps a counter-convention take place. A celebration of every value that Wal-Mart was not exhibiting at that time. A showplace of responsibly, sustainably made goods, a fashion show headlined by American Apparel and other US clothiers; with entertainment, economic benefits, and a point. Not only that – in the final hours of the event, offer a refund of part of the admission fee to any person who stays to tear down and clean up after the event. Leave the location better than you found it. Do that successfully two years in a row, and see if the pendulum doesn’t start to swing towards the light. See which event the City Council works harder to accommodate. And then watch the Wal-Mart Shareholders Convention start to emulate its opponent.

Tell me who made a bigger difference in the past election – the Bernie Sanders supporters disrupting the Democratic Convention and foregoing their ballots, or Bernie Sanders and the supporters who followed his advice and loudly supported Hillary Clinton, and stayed involved in the Party? The blue team may have lost last year, but an entire party platform was courageously revitalized with good ideas. The establishment changed.

Will the history books say that the election of 2016 woke a sleeping giant who sent an aspiring dictator to rule a nation in the laws and order that suited him? Or will they say that two giants awoke that day – one a giant baby filled with fear and bile; and one giant ready to fight tooth and nail, armed with truth, proof, and an everlasting light in its eyes?

Don’t tell people your ideas are better – show them.

Thanks for hearing me out. Hang in there tiger.

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theliberaltony · 4 years

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via Politics – FiveThirtyEight

This article was published in partnership with The Marshall Project, a nonprofit news organization covering the U.S. criminal justice system.

MINNEAPOLIS — Last Wednesday, Marcell Harris was hit by a rubber bullet. He had joined the second day of protests in this city over the killing of George Floyd, a black man who died after a police officer kneeled on his neck for more than eight minutes while bystanders filmed. Though these protests began with peaceful demonstrations outside the city’s 3rd Precinct, interactions between police and protesters had escalated. Police unleashed pepper spray, projectiles and tear gas. Protesters threw water bottles, built barricades and destroyed nearby property.

Harris said he had used his backpack as a shield and maneuvered close enough to take the baton of the officer who shot him. On Thursday night, he returned to the same spot to watch the precinct burn. With no police presence to be seen, he and other protesters were celebrating a victory. “I’m nonviolent,” he said. “But this feels emotional. George Floyd popped the bubble. It feels like the beginning of the end.” The end of what? “What we’ve been going through,” he said, referring to heavy-handed and often deadly policing of African Americans. “All the bullshit.”

Watching a peaceful protest turn into something much less palatable is hard. There has been a lot of hard the past few days, as people in dozens of cities have released pent-up anger against discriminatory police tactics. Cars and buildings have burned. Store windows have been smashed. Protesters and police have been hurt. When protests take a turn like this we naturally wonder … why? Was this preventable? Does anyone know how to stop it from happening?

Three federal commissions concluded that when police escalate force those efforts can often go wrong, creating the very violence that force was meant to prevent.

Turns out, we do know some of these answers. Researchers have spent 50 years studying the way crowds of protesters and crowds of police behave — and what happens when the two interact. One thing they will tell you is that when the police respond by escalating force — wearing riot gear from the start, or using tear gas on protesters — it doesn’t work. In fact, disproportionate police force is one of the things that can make a peaceful protest not so peaceful. But if we know that (and have known that for decades), why are police still doing it?

“There’s this failed mindset of ‘if we show force, immediately we will deter criminal activity or unruly activity’ and show me where that has worked,” said Scott Thomson, the former chief of police in Camden, New Jersey.

“That’s the primal response,” he said. “The adrenaline starts to pump, the temperature in the room is rising, and you want to go one step higher. But what we need to know as professionals is that there are times, if we go one step higher, we are forcing them to go one step higher.”

Interactions between police and protesters are, by their very nature, tough to study. Even when researchers get a good vantage point to observe protests in the real world — for example, by embedding within a crowd — the data that comes out is more descriptive and narrative as opposed to quantitative. Some kinds of protests are highly organized with top-down plans that are months in the making. Others, like many of the events across America this past week, are spontaneous outpourings of grief and anger. The social and political context of the time and place also affect what happens. Even a single protest isn’t really a single protest. “You have lots of mini protests happening in many places,” said Edward Maguire, a professor of criminology and criminal justice at Arizona State University. “There’s different dynamics. Some peaceful. Some not. And different police tactics.” In Baltimore on Saturday, for example, a police lieutenant mollified a crowd by reading out loud the names of victims of police brutality, while protesters outside City Hall threw bottles at police in riot gear and police used tear gas on the crowd, WBFF-TV reported.

But just because there’s no data about protests that can be easily compared in a chart doesn’t mean we’re bereft of information, said Pat Gillham, a professor of sociology at Western Washington University. There’s 50 years of research on violence at protests, dating back to the three federal commissions formed between 1967 and 1970. All three concluded that when police escalate force — using weapons, tear gas, mass arrests and other tools to make protesters do what the police want — those efforts can often go wrong, creating the very violence that force was meant to prevent. For example, the Kerner Commission, which was formed in 1967 to specifically investigate urban riots, found that police action was pivotal in starting half of the 24 riots the commission studied in detail. It recommended that police eliminate “abrasive policing tactics” and that cities establish fair ways to address complaints against police.

Experts say the following decades of research have turned up similar findings. Escalating force by police leads to more violence, not less. It tends to create feedback loops, where protesters escalate against police, police escalate even further, and both sides become increasingly angry and afraid.

Escalating force by police leads to more violence, not less, and tends to create feedback loops, where protesters escalate against police, police escalate even further, and both sides become increasingly angry and afraid.

“Do we know [this] in the way that you know if you put two chemicals together things explode?” said John Noakes, professor of sociology, anthropology and criminal justice at Arcadia University. “No. But there is a general consensus.”

De-escalation, of course, does not guarantee that a protest will remain peaceful, and when protests take an unpredictable turn, it can be challenging for police to estimate the appropriate level of force.

Former law-enforcement officials also said good policing of demonstrations isn’t as simple as just showing up with an approachable demeanor. “The time to make friends isn’t when you need them,” Thomson said. “You have to be in front of it.”

James Ginger, a veteran police monitor who is now overseeing the Albuquerque Police’s settlement with the U.S. Department of Justice, agreed that only this longer-term trust-building exercise works. “Trying to find folks at the last minute that you can put out there in soft clothes and talk to people, frankly and in my opinion, wouldn’t work that well,” Ginger said. “You’ve got to till the soil before you can grow the beans.”

Still, if researchers know it’s not a good idea for police to use force against protests and demonstrations, and that information has been available for decades, why do we still see situations like this happening all over the country?

That part is harder to answer. At one point, in the 1980s and 1990s, many police departments in the U.S. did try different strategies, Noakes and Maguire said. The “negotiated management” model of protest policing called for officers to meet with protesters in advance to plan events together to specify the times, locations and activities that would happen, even when that included mass arrests.

“There was a time when the playbook was much more straightforward. The police would meet with the organizers of the protest, and they would lay out ground rules together that would provide for an opportunity for protesters to do exactly what they have a right to do,” said Ronal Serpas, a former police chief in New Orleans and Nashville who’s now a professor of criminology at Loyola University in New Orleans.

Seattle police cracked down on protests against the World Trade Organization with tear gas in 1999.

Christopher Morris / Corbis via Getty Images

But the era of negotiated management basically fell apart after the World Trade Organization protests in Seattle in 1999, when protesters blocked streets, broke windows and successfully shut down the WTO meeting and stalled trade talks. When protesters violated the negotiated terms, police responded with tear gas and rubber bullets and took away the wrong lessons, Maguire said. “What a lot of people took from that in policing is, we can’t trust these people. We need to be smarter and overwhelm them to nip these things in the bud,” he said. “We sort of went backwards.”

Of course, as Gillham pointed out, negotiating and managing a protest can’t really work if the protest wasn’t organized ahead of time. That goes double, he said, if the topic of the protest is police brutality. It’s hard to negotiate with someone about the best way to demand they be fired.

Instead, it’s become normal in the U.S. for police departments to revert to tactics that amplify tensions and provoke protesters, Maguire said, including wearing intimidating tactical gear before its use would be warranted. Maguire does training for police officers and has tried, for years, to get buy-in on the idea that there could be a different way. “I have good relationships with police and I’ve been working with them for 25 years, and I’ve never experienced pushback like I do on this,” Maguire said.

De-escalation strategies definitely exist. Anne Nassauer, a professor of sociology at Freie Universität in Berlin, has studied how the Berlin Police Department handles protests and soccer matches. She found that one key element is transparent communication — something Nassauer said helps increase trust and diffuse potentially tense moments. The Berlin police employs people specifically to make announcements in these situations, using different speakers, with local accents or different languages, for things like information about what police are doing, and another speaker for commands. Either way, the messages are delivered in a calm, measured voice.

Communication is also a cornerstone of what police know as “the Madison Model,” created by former Madison, Wisconsin, chief of police David Couper. His strategy for dealing with protesters was to send officers out to talk with demonstrators, engage, ask them why protests are made, listen to their concerns and, above all, empathize.

Not all police officers trust this model, however. “When you have overly aggressive crowds you have to address them,” said Anthony Batts, who led departments in Long Beach and Oakland, California, as well as Baltimore. Batts was police commissioner during the violent clashes between police and protesters that followed the 2015 death of Freddie Gray in Baltimore police custody.

Reached by text, Batts said that certain events, like fires and police retreats, “inspire” crowds. He said from his point of view, methods like the Madison model make crowds “go ballistic.”

A lot of this pushback from police has to do with some legitimate officer safety concerns related to de-escalation, Maguire said. “But we make the argument that [de-escalation] makes officers more safe, by reducing violent confrontations with protesters. If officers come into a situation already wearing protective body armor and face shields, that can make protesters feel uncomfortable and under attack long before there’s any kind of confrontation,” Maguire said.

“When I had the opportunity to build a new police department, I was able to do in three days what would normally take me three years to do.”

It’s also just hard to change police culture. Maguire compared it to trying to change hospital procedures by using evidence-based medicine. Even if the evidence is, “don’t perform this surgery in that way or someone could die,” it can still take 20 years for the new technique to be widely adopted.

The disconnect between rank and file and executive leadership — commonly cited as an impediment to policing reform — also seems to get in the way of improving policing of protests. Take the Atlanta Police Department as an example. On Saturday the city’s chief Erika Shields earned plaudits for meeting face to face with protesters, empathizing with their grief and fear, and even reprimanding some of her own officers: “I’m standing here because what I saw was my people face to face with this crowd and everyone is thinking, ‘How can we use force to diffuse it,’ and I’m not having that.” But mere hours later, her department was trending on social media again — this time because officers had used tasers to force two college students out of their vehicle, even though they did not appear to be posing any threat.

That, experts say, speaks to a cultural attitude that is endemic to the profession, and is hard to change with new chiefs or rules.

Thomson encountered this when he tried to make change in Camden. The police department was so dysfunctional that the city took the unprecedented step of disbanding the force and reconstituting a whole new agency from scratch. “When I had the opportunity to build a new police department, I was able to do in three days what would normally take me three years to do, because of work rules, because of the bureaucracy of collective bargaining agreements — there are a lot of impediments to reform,” Thomson said.

Couper, the creator of the Madison Method, said, “It’s this whole attitude of, ‘We keep order because we kick ass, and it’s us against them.’ (…) We’ve got to root those people out and say, ‘Look, this is the job that we expect. This is how a democracy is policed. If you can’t buy into it. I’m sorry. You just have to find another job.’”

#IFTTT #Politics – FiveThirtyEight #politics #538 #Maggie Koerth and Jamiles Lartey

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