#now look who is gonna be an 11th grader!
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Chapter 13
Alpha!Damiano Omegaverse
Read chapters 1-12 on my Masterlist!
TW: Contains r-word. Text will be in red.
The rest of the school had Friday off, but not the clubs and teams. Today was competition day and the transport van picked you up at 8:15 am. The yellow and blue uniform was sexless, a pair of loose trousers and a t-shirt. It was still chilly in the mornings, so you wore a long sleeve under it.
“You know, we won’t have a lot of time to do makeup when we get there.” commented Rosemary, as you climbed inside.
“I’m not wearing makeup,” you scoff. If any extracurricular wasn’t going to be part beauty pageant, it should be aerospace engineering.
“Oh…Well, everyone else will because they’ll be taping it.” Rosemary’s unfiltered honesty wasn’t unlike Thalia’s.
“What?” you exclaim in horror.
“Taping, not broadcasting,” clarifies Mx. Varela. “It's standard procedure to prevent cheating.”
“Oh, okay,” you sigh, senses still heightened. “So will there be photographers there?”
“Yes,” answers, an annoyed voice from behind you. 11th grader and alpha Bremen who was on the competitive team last year and this year was an alternate. Phrases such as “diversity hire” hang over your head like a dark cloud. The demographic specifications to qualify became progressively more intricate as extracurriculars sought to be more inclusive and fair.
It started as “Each team must have four competitive members and two alternates to participate in events.” Naturally, the entire team was comprised of seniors.
So things evolved to “Each team must have four (4) competitors and two (2) alternates, with each grade represented via at least one (1) team member, in order to participate in events.” Every competitive team that year was exclusively 11th and 12th years. It was a stupid oversight with an addendum drafted before the season was over. “The competitive team must include lowerclassmen.”
And that was all fine and good. For nearly a decade, the academic regulations of beta exclusive societies were identical to those with alphas and omegas. But last year something changed, a departure from B.E. societal standards. There was a controversial, new addendum, passed by no more than two votes.
“In applicable districts, alphas, betas, and omegas must all be represented for a team to qualify.”
So you had to prove yourself, and learned that genius is largely a self-perpetuating cycle. Bremen was so confident in his intelligence that he’d convinced other people too. At first, it seemed like he was just getting his ego stroked, because everyone agreed that he was one One of the Smart Ones. But then you’d watched him correctly solve a problem at grade level, throw down his pencil in victory, and sit back with a gratified smirk. “Oh course, Bremen's already done!” “I’d expect nothing less from a math whiz.” “Don’t you ever lose that edge, it's gonna serve you well.”
After the circle jerk was over, you looked to Mx. Varela. They had a weary, take-no-shit expression on, probably the only other person in the room that realized Bremen could burp and the masses would attribute it to his shining IQ.
“Refocus, please.” Mx. Varela looked to where you sat on the other side of the room, sneakily doing your engineering homework because you’d finished the worksheet. Your heart stopped at getting caught. It’s not like you wouldn’t do your homework in other classes as well, but this was a special case. The instructor was doing you a favor by offering five hours a week worth of credit for three hours worth of work.
“You realize you’re gonna have to speak to the rest of the team?” Mx. Varela snatches the paper off the table and checks your work with a raised eyebrow. They flip to the back side, then quickly to the front side once more.
“This is all correct. Did you do all this on your own?” The hidden accusation catches you off guard.
“I don’t need to cheat on 11th grade math! It’s literally what we’re learning right now with some basic reasoning.”
“Basic reasoning?” Your instructor is smiling in a way that reveals you’ve just screwed yourself. “You’re bored because you’ve got one of those minds that reads math instead of solving it.”
“I…guess. It feels like making inferences.” At this point Bremen and two other team members are staring. Mx. Varela holds up your finished assignment.
“If you want an answer key, just use this. We’ll move to more advanced practice now.” You hide a laugh behind your hand. The three sets of eyes boring into your profile kept the moment from feeling like victory.
Bremen had decided how he felt about you the second he realized your status. Fortunately, the other team members came to respect your intelligence in the last two weeks. Being liked is another goal entirely, and Mx Varela hadn’t set you up for success by calling your paper the answer sheet. Alpha friendships didn’t make you envious, because they were unachievable. However, seeing the easy comradery between the betas and alphas felt like standing on the other side of a glass wall. Ever the watcher, never the participant.
“Okay, a reminder,” Mx. Valera turns around from the passenger seat to address six grumpy teenagers.
“Y/n’s the only one that needs reminders,” murmurs Bremen.
“What the hell have I done to you?” you finally snap.
“Y/n, team, none of that. We go in as one unit, we succeed as one unit.” Your face burns and it feels like everyone inside the van stares at you. It's a small, stuffy space and there's no way to hide from view.
“Remember these are just the benchmark rounds. Today it's 280 points, so focus on meeting that score, and we’ll be good.”
“Basically impossible,” Sebastian murmurs. Mx. Valera sighs and takes a beat.
“Focusing on meeting benchmark scores rather than winning will not only guarantee us a place, but it’ll leave us much better prepared for more challenging competitions.” The resentment from that moment of injustice sat in your gut like a hot coal. Blood rushed in your ears, making it difficult to hear. You step out of the van with tunnel vision, being the first to stand in front of the Romero Public High flag. Next time you’ll wear Dami’s scarf.
“Want me to do your makeup?” offers Sommer, a 12th year alpha.
“Sure,” you respond, with a forced smile. It was an act of friendship, comradery between competing team members. You had no interest in being visually appealing to other alphas. However it seemed that everyone was made-up, and being the odd man out didn’t help your nerves nor your approachability.
“I didn’t know about all the politics when I joined. I was just trying to get the Aerospace 101 credit.” Sommor scoffs.
“The stuff we do is so much more advanced. Look down.” She applies something to your eyelid. The garish carpet pattern is a real eyesore.
“So when did you find out you were the affirmative action hire?” Sommer intends it to be more humorous than malicious, so you decide to laugh.
“Rosemary explained it to me.”
“It’s cool that you get Rose, because most of us don’t. She’s super smart though and that's what matters.” Something inside you twists. This supposed bonding moment felt treacherous to your only sort-of friend on the team. The whole interaction, Sommer’s monotone voice and flawless makeup, lacked a regard for anything but her own amusement. So badly you want to speak up and demand an ounce of authenticity, but you stay silent as she applies mascara.
“Look up.” Behind her, other teams filed into the arena in their brightly colored uniforms. “I’ve never marked anybody, but you must miss him. Damiano, right?”
“I’m fine on my own,” you shrug. It wasn’t a lie. Marked or not, you were happy to do things in the peace of your own company without Dami. However, in this particular moment, having someone that made you feel understood would be a great relief. If the event hadn’t been closed to the public, Dami would be sitting directly across the room, so whenever you looked up, he was in your line of sight.
“All non-essential personnel, please exit the arena. Competitive team members only.” As instructors herded the alternates out of the arena, a pattern became very apparent. Every single set of alternates contained an omega. A quick glance at the online rosters confirmed what you already knew: you were the only omega competing in the six teams.
Mx. Valera’s hand on your shoulder makes you jump several inches in the air. Some administrator is ordering them to go to the viewing room with everyone else. All the anxious voices blend together, but you get the jist.
“I had no idea that my colleagues would conduct themselves with such overt bias. I am sorry, y/n. It will be addressed.” This is where someone substitutes in on your behalf, so the stupid little omega can go be quiet in a corner with her brethren. Except no one does. There are just announcements upon announcements while you scan the arena for a single person like you. A judge, an administrator, the guy who hands out extra pencils, but you are the only omega in this giant room, which is suddenly a dangerous place to be.
“This can’t be happening,” you murmur. “Regulations, they wouldn’t…” The real trouble comes when the alphas realize you’re the only omega in the room. Hair up to show your mark is the first thing to do. It had just begun to scar. You rub the uneven skin just beside your scent gland.
“Y/n, hey –” Sommer snaps her fingers in front of your face and you bat her hand away without thinking. There's no telling who’s more surprised at your act of defensiveness. Rosemary points to the sheet in front of you. It’s the first prompt of the day. When you look back up to get your bearings, she puts a calculator in your hands. This, at least, you can do on autopilot, but it's hard to focus with your skin crawling.
Everytime you look up there's twice as many alphas staring as you’d anticipated. At first they’re just curious, then interested. They talk to each other in low tones, making sure that they’re not the only ones seeing this single, lone omega. The hum of their voices makes you clamp your hands over your ears. Rosemary has to pry them away and put a pencil in your hand, gesturing to the equations they’d come up with.��
“God, she’s so slow today,” complains Sommer. You force yourself not to check, but possibility becomes the most terrifying of all. If you don’t look up now, how close could an alpha get before you finally do scan the surroundings? With such a crowded room, the answer is right on top of you. The answer is with its teeth to your neck.
The other three talk, but you just operate as a human calculator, solving whatever Rosemary hands your way. You remind yourself that your pheromones aren’t enticing to most of, if not all these alphas. You’re marked, but that matters significantly less as the only omega in sight. There isn’t a better option.
“Y/n? Y/n, these numbers are too big. It doesn’t make sense.” You’re going back over your work when a buzzer goes off.
“Pencils down, an administrator will come by to collect your work.”
“But I’m not done.” Even Rosemary’s gaze holds animosity. Sommer arranges the papers in the folder refusing to speak to or even look at you.
“Did you finish?” Mx. Valera asks. The silence is enough of an answer.
“Well that's fine, only half the teams finished.”
“So we’re in the bottom 50%? Y/n, what the fuck was that? Were you having a seizure?” You’d like to deliver a searing retort to put Sommer in her place, but the words get stuck as she intimidates you.
“Sommer, stop. How far did you get? I couldn’t see at the very end.” You wait for someone to answer, looking at Rosemary when the team remains silent. “Y/n?”
“Yes?” You’re backed up against the desk, trying to achieve some personal space, but everyone seems to be looming. “Where are the alternates?”
“How far did you get?”
“If I had like 30 seconds, I could’ve fixed the mistake. I'm sorry, I was just…”
“So to the very end?” There's hope in Mx. Valera’s eyes, but it doesn’t make you feel better. Even as a couple omega alternates scurry over to the bathroom, all eyes are on you. Figuring this is the safest time to break away from the group, you mutter an “excuse me” and grab your bag before heading towards the bathroom. Being the object of everyone’s attention is never a good feeling, but right now in particular, it makes your eyes and skin burn. An alpha shoulder checks you as he brushes by then laughs as you scramble not to eat shit on the cheaply carpeted floor. The message was clear: you are not supposed to be here.
I want my mommy is your first thought. Your second is no, I want my alpha. There was a district wide soccer tournament starting this evening, but Romero wasn’t playing until Sunday. That would make this weekend the first time Damiano had two days off in god knows how long. He did best with an occupied mind, but everyone needs rest, especially after such a rough patch. You’d be denying him that.
Of course, your mind goes exactly where he’d want it to. Dami in your kitchen four days ago, cooking some heavenly chicken dish. Where most alphas would simply say “make sure you eat a good meal and go to bed early. My omega’s health is important to me.” He asked nothing of you, cooking dinner and rubbing your back until you fell asleep at 8pm.
“I want you to know that you don’t need to be frightened, love. Things seemed pretty dire for a sec, but I’m doing so much better. I need you to know that I’m okay. I feel steady, so you can lean on me.” At the time, you were literally laying on his chest, not just hearing his words but sensing the vibration under his sternum as well. “I’m okay,” he repeats. “I’m okay.” And he was.
The tears on your cheeks evidenced how much you needed to hear those words out loud, because it took years for Thalia to be okay. Clio had yet to get there. You’d been bracing yourself, subconsciously. Damiano grasped both clenched fists, tendons straining, nails creating crescent shaped bruises as they dug into the meat of your hand. He unfurled them, kissing your palms, coaxing you to relax with the knowledge that he no longer needed a safety net. He was not a fall risk.
***
“Hey, baby,” he croaks. “Everything okay?” Fuck. Calling him was a horrible idea. You’re already wiping away tears. The warmth in his tone is such a stark contrast to the rest of this morning.
“Y/n? What’s going on?” You’d woken him up on essentially a weekend, when most weekends he had to get up early too. And what now? Damiano wasn’t allowed inside, no matter how hard you wished the rules to be otherwise. Piling guilt on to the rest of your emotional baggage was about to be the final straw.
“You’re scaring me. Say something.”
“Something,” you manage, in a shaky tone. Damiano had seen you cry in the past year more than anyone, but not these kinds of tears. He clears his throat and you can hear the rustle of bedsheets as he sits up.
“Okay, I’m awake. Where are you? I’ll come get you.”
“This stupid fucking competition,” you sigh heavily, then choke. It's not quite a sob.
“Right, okay. How closed to the public is it? Like is there security?” He’s not joking, but you still laugh.
“Um…could you pick me up? It supposed to be over at 10 but the next round is uh…” you search for a clock or a directory, “Fuck I don’t remember. I feel like it's gonna be done way before then.”
“And it's the conference hall right by LHS?” You purposely bang your forehead on the wall.
“Fuck, your old school is gonna be here.” Maybe that's why they were staring. “How much do I smell like you?”
“Uh…enough? It's recognizable.”
“Okay, good,” you say with a sigh. Staring because you were Dami’s mate was something you could live with.
“They’re giving you a hard time.”
“I’m a zoo animal.” A five minute warning is announced and the panic tightens in your chest. “Time to go jump through some fiery hoops.”
“I’ll brush my teeth and leave. I’ll be there whenever you’re done, kitten.” You roll your eyes at the nickname. It had started out cute but now only one of you found it cute (it was Dami).
“Do your hair and stuff too, if you want.” Being seen by people from Laurel High, his old school, was going to be tough.
“I thought you liked the man bun!”
“I love the man bun, but I know looking your best –”
“Makes it easier to jump through fiery hoops?”
“Exactly.” A two minute warning sounds. “Okay I have to go, I love you.”
“I love you too. Go be a rocket scientist!” You steel yourself before walking back to the podium. Purposefully, you veer by Laurel High School. When they stare you bite back like you’ve wanted to all day.
“Do I know you?”
“Jesus christ,” Bremen murmurs as he walks past you, He shakes his head in distaste, commiserating with the Laurel High competitors through mutual eye rolling and scoffs at your behavior. What an annoying, upetty omega. He would side with your competitors before having an ounce of respect.
“Have fun watching me compete,” you sneer.
“You know, you think that people don’t like you because you’re an omega. Actually, people don’t like you because you’re a bitch.” It's so hateful that you’re caught off guard. LHS “ooh” and “ah” at your expense. After all, there's no better entertainment than watching an omega be put in their place. Sommer grabs you by your arm and hauls you over to the Romero flag.
“Ignore them. I like the fact that you’re a bitch.” But I don’t want to be a bitch at all. Was that the only option if you stood up for yourself? Of course you also acted on the offensive and what else did that make you if not bitch? Did Damiano think of you as a bitch, in the pseudo-affectionate way Sommer did? That thought felt the same as guilt, a tear-wrenching, yanking sensation from inside your ribcage. What a swell time to have a personality crisis.
Mx. Valera comes to wish you luck before the second prompt is handed out. They’re pissed on your behalf, which is a nice sentiment, but doesn't solve anything in the here and now. The best strategy is to stay with the team, because at least Rosemary won’t let an pissed off alpha corner you. In that case, all you could hope for is that taunts don’t become retribution for merely existing in their space.
“Why do we leave at 10 if the competition is gonna finish at like 9:40?”
“It’s so all the teams can meet. We call it Nerd Conference,” Rosemary explains, as the papers are handed out, face down.
“You call it Nerd Conference,” mumbles a usually silent Sebastian, the forth team member. Thank god you’d called Damiano. Maybe the omegas would be treated like real team members, but more likely they’d be huddled in a corner while the betas and alphas enjoyed some comradery. If a team placed poorly, their alphas would want to take it out on something, and that something would be you.
“Begin.” They’re staring at me because I smell like Dami. They’re staring at me because they recognize his pheromones. These are the phrases you kept chanting to reduce the compulsion to look up every five seconds. At first it worked, but then fear won over and you have to focus everything on keeping the numbers straight. Mathematically, it was a surprisingly difficult problem for so early in the competition. Doable, but you needed a second sheet of paper.
“At least two of the teams are stuck,” narrated Rosemary as you handed the calculations to Sommer. While implementing the numbers, you checked your work over her shoulder. Something raises the hair on the back of your neck and makes you whip around. It’s just an administrator, doing his rounds to prevent cheating, but your heart rate still goes sky high. It dawns on you that there is no way to avoid being followed out of the building. All you can do is get to Damiano, or rather get in his line of sight. The AD2 part of him would welcome a challenge.
“How long until this is over?” You keep looking at the doors, convincing yourself he is on the other side and all you have to do is calculate the fucking trajectory of the capsule release to get to him.
“Six minutes and 49 seconds,” answers Rosemary. “Here.” As she passes the paper back, you become aware that the timer is the only thing keeping these alphas at their station. When it goes off, they’ll be free to roam, and temporarily, you’ll be the only omega in sight. One versus 35 alphas and betas that think you don’t belong here.
“Any teams still stuck?”
“Yes.”
“Is Laurel High one of them?”
“Doesn’t look like it.”
“Damn it.”
“Are you stuck?”
“No,” you shove the calculations across the desk. You should be done with your part of the prompt, and now there's nothing to occupy your mind except feeling like prey. LHS is watching you with self-satisfied smirks, convinced you’ll fail again. Other alphas are curious how you’re holding up, and each so clearly took pleasure in watching you squirm. The question becomes how many of them are marked or mated, which is what you’re trying to discern when Rosemary announces the team is finished. There's 17.9 seconds on the clock and you all huddle, checking each of your calculations.
“The numbers make sense,” Sommer breathes in a sigh of relief.
“So can I go?” She snatches your wrist and holds it forcefully.
“Wait or we’ll get disqualified,” she orders, using her alpha temperament to force compliance. You stare at the carpet until the timer buzzes.
“Now can I go?”
“Go where? They haven’t scored us yet.” The other teams have relaxed, some people even checking their phones after stepping away from the desk.
“Bye.” When Sommer doesn’t stop you, it's clear that the actual competition is over. You’ll skip the feeding frenzy and make minimal eye contact while heading to the exit.
“Nice job omega!” It's unclear whether the words are genuine, but the tone is certainly condescending. Someone laughs and your face heats up. You looked like a child in comparison to all the other competitors. Plain faced and anxious, you were the one cropped out of photographs. Or worse, included so the publication didn’t get attacked by Equalitarians.
In the lobby, are parents of children who lived more locally, early to pick up. Damiano is in the parking lot, if he’s here yet, so you keep your eyes on the window next to the exit. If you can make it out that door, you’ll be free. You’re so focused that Damiano has to physically step in your path to gain your attention. His concern is thinly veiled as he takes your backpack, so beautiful you can’t believe he’s yours. Dami would know to get done up, he wouldn’t have made this mistake. Maybe that's why they were staring. Clearly, he’d marked you, but how had someone so average looking managed that?
“Baby, c’mere,” he whispered. You’d just stood there pathetically, arms limp at your sides until Damiano’s beauty brought you to tears. Even as he hugged you, you were frozen.
“I think it’s incredibly brave, what you’re doing,” compliments an omegan father next to you.
“Uh, thanks.” You wipe the tears on your sleeves and notice all the black smudges from forgotten mascara. “Oh fuck, do I look like a racoon?”
“No,” Dami answers in a hushed voice with a tight smile. His eyes keep darting to just below the right side of your face. He says the perfect pleasantry with the perfect gesture and steers you out of the door. The cold morning air is refreshing and a bit painful on your wet cheeks. You can’t help but compulsively check behind you every couple seconds.
“Don’t worry about being followed. I’m here now.” Damiano’s hand finds yours on the way to the car. You’d expected a barrage of questions about your well being, but he was contemplative, probably struggling to calibrate his reaction.
“I’m sorry for waking you up.”
“Don't apologize. I’m glad you did.” He squeezes your hand and falls silent again. He wasn’t angry, but there was something plaguing him.
“Are you okay?” Damiano stops walking and winces with his eyes squeezed closed.
“Am I okay?” he repeats under his breath, shaking his head. “I should have been the first one to ask that.”
“I’ll be fine as soon as we get out of here.” Behind you is the repeated click of the door opening as people filter out.
“Y/n! Y/n!” Sommer’s hurried footsteps come up from behind. You steel yourself to face her, but end up looking at Dami’s back as he steps in front.
“Jesus fucking christ Dam, I’m not gonna hurt her. We’re on the same team!” You wrap an arm around Dami and lean into his side. You didn’t need to puff out your chest and prove to everyone that you were strong despite being an omega. He was your strength.
“We’re about to leave Sommer.” She rolls her eyes, breathless from excitement.
“I just wanted to say that you don’t need to be sad about messing up or whatever because we broke 300! We got second place.” Damiano smiles with pride, jostling you so you’d take a moment to celebrate.
“I wasn’t upset because of the score. It’s a science club and they still treat omegas like they’re inferior. Nobody wanted me there!” The smile falls from Damiano’s face as you turn to him. “Can we just go?” He nods, unlocking his car and leaning over to put your bag in the backseat. While he’s doing so, Bremen rushes out of the building, scanning the parking lot for someone.
“Valera is looking for you,” he yells.
“Bremen, I already said I’d find her, go be obsessed with someone else.” He bristles.
“Whatever. An administrator told me to find her. I guess they’re worried that if y/n crosses the street without someone holding her hand she’ll forget to look both ways and get hit by a car,” he laughs. Apparently his view of Damiano was blocked. You put a hand on your alpha’s back so he doesn’t react right away. Sommor looks at you and Dami, then back at Bremen with wide eyes.
“Can you just shut up for once,” she prompts, gesturing at him to stop talking. Bremen’s easily wounded ego is hurt by Sommor siding with someone else. If only he knew she was trying to help him.
“You’re the one who came up with the diversity hire jokes! She solves one problem correctly –”
“‘Diversity hire?’” Damiano growls, straightening up. Sommer shrinks back and Bremen looks cornered. Two alphas against one should have an obvious outcome, but Dami is stronger than them and he’s also really fucking scary when he wants to be.
“It really makes you that insecure that she’s more intelligent than you.”
“She’s not –” Bremen starts, then promptly closes his mouth.
“She’s not what?” Dami stalks towards him like a lion hunting antelope. Taking a step back would be admitting subservience. Bremen hasn’t caved in yet, but it's a matter of seconds.
“You think her safety is a joke. I take her safety very seriously,” he snarls. “If you ever were to compromise –”
“I would never,” Bremen shakes his head, taking two steps backwards.
“I know, because I know what a jealous alpha looks like.” He glances at Sommor for confirmation and she nods her head.
“Brem, you – he wanted to make the new omega on the team his mate.” Damiano hums, wrinkling his nose in disgust.
“It’s pathetic that you’re taking it out on her.” Pathetic was a pretty brutal insult from one alpha to another. “If you have an issue with the fact that she belongs to someone, you’re gonna take it up with me.” He’s almost whispering. “Do you have an issue with the fact that I chose her to be my omega?”
“No,” Bremen whispers, shaking his head.
“Do you take issue with me marking her?”
“No.”
“And when I make her my mate, will that be a problem?”
“No.” Damiano turns on heel, and walks back to you. His face is still contorted with anger. What you don’t expect is his fingers along your neckline. He pulls the necklaces you still put on every morning out of your shirt.
“Do you see these? They’re mine and I knew she’d be wearing them because she wears them everyday, even though I’ve never asked her to. Do you understand? You are nothing to her,” he spits. Damiano opens your door and you sit down, shell shocked by the turn of events for several minutes.
“Uh, sorry.” Dami looks sheepish and his hand is hesitant as it takes yours. “My territorialism…I could have handled that better.” You shake your head, bringing his palm to your cheek. He takes it back only to turn off the highway and into a residential area.
“That's my childhood home.” He points to a one story brown house that sits up against the woods. “The people that live there now have like a dozen cats. We moved when I was 11 and again when I was 15.”
“Big backyard,” you guess.
“Exactly,” he smiles. “And this is Blue Creek Park. It's a little nature preserve, but people outside the neighborhood don’t come here because it’s on the other side of the freeway.” The gravel crunches below the tires as Dami pulls into a small parking lot of only five spaces. “Sandro and I did a few legally questionable things here as kids.” He parks the car and turns towards you. The keys jingle as Damiano drops them in an empty cup holder. Isabella had color-coded them some time ago. The brightly colored rubber borders were dirty.
“Y/n, why were you crying?” You keep looking at the cupholders. Dami puts a finger under your chin and raises your gaze to his. Keeping your shit together was hard with all that affection and empathy directed your way.
“Why did that man say you were brave?”
“It’s stupid, I don’t want to talk about it.” You look back down. A drop from your last latte had fallen, staining the tan-colored hard plastic.
“Well, you’d never let me get away with that.”
“Not wanting to talk about something?”
“Yeah, you always make me face it, even if I don’t want to.”
“Sounds like I’m a pretty shitty girlfriend,” you mutter and curl into a ball in the passenger seat. Damiano is coming to recognize this body language as overwhelmed to the point of defensiveness.
“What? No, that wasn’t the implication, kitten.” God damn it.
“Don’t call me that.”
“We’re not leaving until you tell me why you called me crying because you’ve never done that before.”
“And maybe I’ll never do it again!” Damiano’s leg starts bouncing. He probably knows they’re just words, but the prospect of not being allowed to protect you is anxiety-inducing. Threatening him, this whole interaction was miles away from the point.
“Ugh!” You get out of the car with your arms crossed.
“A walk in the crisp spring morning, what a pleasant idea,” he exclaims, locking the car.
“I’m not mad at you and I don’t want you to think that I am because you’re the only person that doesn’t suck, except you do kinda suck for forcing the issue,” you announce in exasperation. Damiano nods, taking a second to process your words.
“Let me show you my favorite place to blow up illegal fireworks when I was 13.”
“Does it bother you that I’m equally as close to being 13 as I am to being your age?”
“Ooh, ouch,” he cringes. “Still not distracted though. Also put on your coat.” He holds the garment up for you and zips it. The gesture is so tender your eyes water.
“Show me the scene of the crime.” You take his hand in yours, and that satisfied Dami for now. Meanwhile, you’re spiraling. Bringing up the age difference could never be just a joke to him. And what had he done to deserve that? Wake up three hours early, rush across the city, and defend you despite just getting cleared by the collegiate board. Then he’d shown you a piece of his personal history and you’d acted just as immature as opponents of this relationship predicted you would. Either in whispered voices and furtive glances or gossiped in private spaces. If the competition’s alphas had witnessed this behavior, their value judgments would be completely just.
“I’m sure all the moss has grown back now, but…” He leads you around the backside of a two story rock face. In a clearing is a pathetic little fire pit.
“You know that joke about the omega who makes a nest they’re really proud of, but to their alpha it’s just a pile of blankets. The alpha can see how important it is and compliments them, pretending to be impressed anyway?”
“Yeah?” You take a long look at the scorched mark on the ground and then at Dami.
“Dear, I think this is a very nice pile of blankets.” He bursts out laughing, the wonderful, crowing, grinning wide laugh that fills up a whole room.
“Okay, okay, fair enough,” he pants, leading you up the incline. Twice Damiano has to pause to bend over and cackle. By the time you take a seat on a flat spot at the top, the sharp clawed insecurity is almost forgotten. He looks around the park from this high point in silence. No, Dami hadn’t always been easy, but he loved you the way you’d secretly hoped to be loved. In your whole life, he was the only one that made you the priority and he did it without asking. Never did you ache for more attention or validation. It was remarkable to be at the center of such an exquisite universe.
“I think I’ve always loved you without knowing it,” you murmur. Damiano’s big, soulful eyes fixate on you. It’s a rarity to see him stunned.
“Like, before we met I must’ve…I don’t know.” You search the branches for a bird’s nest and, and move along before things get emotional. “We should just go home and sleep until lunch.”
“I…You said the competition acted like omegas were inferior. They treated you like you were stupid, they must have been horrible.” His voice is buckling with emotion.
“They didn’t treat me like I was stupid, exactly. I just felt so othered and fucking terrified. I’m never doing that again. Mx. Valera might be in the right, but it doesn’t matter if no ones on their side.” Finally, your voice breaks. “I was so scared. I was so, so scared and they enjoyed it. I was suffering and all these alphas loved it, relished it,” you cry against the rough fabric of Dami’s jacket. “They were waiting for me to fuck up and guess what? I did! I proved all of them right!”
“You didn’t prove them right. Each team had at least one omega, so clearly there is just as much variation in the intellect of –”
“No they didn’t!” You force the words out. “I was the only one in all six teams and I spent the whole first round so terrified that one of them was gonna lunge at me that I could barely think. Thats why I fucked up!”
“Woah, woah, wait. Y/n, my love, what – that's not –” He tries to get a view of your face and you permit it, flushed cheeks cupped in his hands. “Teams aren’t allowed to compete without an omega. I know, I looked, I –” Damiano and probably Isabella had found the rule book online, then combed through it to confirm that the event was safe. He was truly your guardian angel.
“They were all alternates. Only competitors are allowed in the arena so I…” The whole moment was too revealing and you curl into a ball again, this time with your head in Damiano’s lap. At least you can sob without worrying what horrendous shapes your face is making.
“There were no other omegas competing. Against betas and alphas you were the only one?”
“I was the only omega in the whole fucking room! Not an administrator or judge or teacher or janitor or person with extra batteries for the calculators. No one!” you howl against his sweatpants. “And everyone knew to wear makeup and do their hair except me so I looked ugly and that's probably why all the people from Laurel High were staring like I was a polar bear in a plastic enclosure.”
“Y/n, no.” Hey starts combing your hair back with his hands.
“They were just waiting for me to fail. I was an object for them to toy with for amusement. It’s not just that they didn’t want me there. It’s like –” Damiano’s hand strokes your exposed cheek.
“They didn’t really see you as a person, but you finished that shitty competition anyway.” Now that the words are out the tears should stop, but they don’t. Damiano gets an arm underneath your waist so he can hold you, rocking back and forth.
“I’m…infuriated.” It's apparent in his tone of voice. “I hate that I wasn’t there and that you felt unsafe without me. I’m so sorry.”
“It was closed to the public.”
“But they didn’t follow the regulations to keep you safe!” You flip over and look up at Damiano, lifting a hand to his angular face. He catches it and kisses each knuckle, staring into the distance and scowling. It’s clear he’s taking the competition’s lapses in judgment very personally, even as personally as you. The moisture from the moss had wet your outfit in patches, probably stained the white polyester green.
“Can we go home now? I want to get this off my body.” You sit up and Damiano nods, expression tortured. He’s looking off to the right again, towards your mark.
“I put my hair up so they’d see.” His face becomes pained, rather than pleased. “When I was nervous I’d touch the scar and it helped.”
“It's irritated. You were probably rubbing it to self soothe.”
“Oh…” You feel sheepish, even as Dami helps you off the ground.
“Also there's makeup on your face, love. Don’t you remember putting it on?” He brushes your under eye with the pad of his thumb. Reflexively, you raise a hand to your complexion, as if you’d be able to feel the black pigment staining your face.
“Sommor?” You nod and he rolls his eyes. “I thought it looked...”
“What?”
“Tacky. She’s always been that way.” That comment literally stops you in your tracks
“Oh my god, you slept with her.” It's a horrifying realization and even worse was Dami not rebuking it. He just cringes with his shoulders raised up to his ears. It's also kind of hilarious considering how agro he was towards her today.
“Sorry,” he squeaks. “It was a long time ago.”
“Like over a year?” He squints one eye while counting on his fingers.
“You have to think about it!?” It really sucked that he’d slept with one of your teammates, but he also didn’t do anything wrong. Damiano had never squirmed like this before, so teasing is plenty of retribution.
“Nevermind, I don’t want to know,” you dismiss, dramatically walking past him.
“Definitely a year! I didn’t even mean to have sex with her. Her friend Maia, was the one I was going after, but she hooked up with someone else that night, so,” he shrugs.
“Well thanks, that makes me feel so much better,” you reply with heavy sarcasm.
“I actually have no earthly idea why I told you that.” You begin walking backwards, facing Dami.
“I’m just impressed that you remember their names.” He throws his head back and groans in mortification.
“I’m never gonna live this down.”
“Did you do an every letter of the alphabet challenge? Does Xiema have something to tell me?”
“No,” he says forcefully. “I made sure not to sleep with any of your friends.”
“How romantic! And I thought chivalry was dead.” He jogs a few steps to catch up.
“You’re taking this kinda well.”
“Logically, you had to get good at it somewhere. In the future, please tell me so I have a couple zingers prepared.”
“That sounds super fair.” He throws an arm over your shoulders and brings you in for a kiss on the temple. “Christ, I wish I was as funny as you.”
“You are funny!” Some of your favorite moments were rolling around in Dami’s bed cackling, until you got side cramps.
“I know I’m funny, but you’re so quick witted. Whenever I see you humble some alpha, I’m happy to be on your good side.” So Damiano’s funny, but you’re funny and mean? He phrased it like a compliment, so you’re left contemplating what such a compliment said about your personality. Sliding into the car seats, your mind is occupied until Dami speaks.
“Oh man, someone’s gonna have to teach you how to drive pretty soon,” he ponders, buckling his seatbelt. “Poor bastard.” Damiano brakes at the stop sign and finds you staring at him. “No! Absolutely not.” You continue the silent stare, smirking. “Oh, fuck me.” Damiano rests his head on the steering wheel upon realizing his fate. “I am the poor bastard. God damn it, this is what I get for being a cradle robber.” Wow. Yep, that did feel like shit. But you’d started the age jokes, which meant you had to take them too.
“Well if I show up to practice with any inexplicable injuries,” he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, “I can just tell them it's from almost dying in a car crash. After seeing how you handled Okoro’s team, I’m sure they won’t question it.” he chuckles. That had to be excessive, but one glance at Dami reveals that he’s not intentionally punishing you. He never intentionally punished you, but it did happen the other way around. Dami actually thinks this is flattery, and being confronted with the realities of his perception is beyond jarring. Liking this part of your character doesn’t change the fact that Damiano sees you as a bitch, too.
“Hey, stop, stop, stop.” Stop what? “You’re doing it again.” He pulls your hand from your neck and laces your fingers together so you can’t rub the scar subconsciously. “The proximity to your scent gland makes me really nervous, kit – love.” Kit wasn’t so bad. Foxes had kits.
“I like the pet names, but kitten just doesn’t feel right anymore. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize.”
“It just doesn’t fit.” He rubs his thumb along the back of your hand.
“That’s fine, I can just say something else.” A healthy person was not meant to contain this much self-loathing at one time. You bring your legs to your chest and rest your face on your kneecaps.
“Something else you wanna –” Dami’s phone rings. He curses under his breath instead of reading the contact name immediately.
“Who’s parents?”
“Your dad,” he groans, hitting ANSWER. “Good morning, Kevin. How are you doing on this beautiful day?” It’s a miracle how genuine he sounds.
“Is y/n with you?”
“Yes she is. Safe and sound. We’re headed home right now.”
“She was supposed to be in the van with the rest of the team. That was the plan.”
“I’m so sorry if you were unsure of her whereabouts. I assumed –”
“We figured she was with you, since one of her teammates told the coach as much. That girl got in the van with everyone else like normal.” Normal was one of your father’s favorite words (and concepts).
“I know who you’re talking about, her name is Sommar.” There's a long silence, as your father recovers from Damiano not taking the bait.
“Why isn’t y/n answering her phone?” You strain to grab your bag from the backseat.
“I believe she still has it turned off from the competition, but I’ll have her turn it on right now.” You nod. Lacking patience, you turn the backpack upside down, dumping all your shit out on the floor. Damiano begins to laugh at the strawberry four chapsticks with peeling labels and hoarders collection of empty water bottles, but covers it with a cough.
“Bring her straight home. Y/n needs to discuss this behavior and the consequences with her family.” You shake your head vigorously and Damiano places a hand on your leg.
“Can you please elaborate for me?” Kevin releases a long, irritated sigh.
“Look, we really appreciate times you might have provided some type of protection,” that was an insulting amount of qualifiers, “but y/n needs to preserve her resilience.” All you had been today was resilient and Dami seems to think the same as he squeezes your thigh to pacify your anxiety. “A year ago she would never have called a boyfriend to come pick her up because she was upset about getting second place.”
“Y/n is not upset about getting second place. The way she was treated today –”
“And do you think that is helped by being the only one with a chauffeur? Being seen as having special privileges, being different from everyone else, that's not gonna make anything easier. Disagreements are normal. It happens in the adult world all the time and you have to resolve them, not run away. I think –”
“‘I’m gonna have to pause you right there, Kevin.” Dami actually pulls over as he speaks. “Lots of kids were picked up by their parents or perhaps even partners. I don’t know for sure, because we didn’t hang around long. What I do know, for a fact, is that the only person questioning y/n’s resilience right now is you.”
“Be that as it mm – Olivia, it’s fine.” Your father holds the phone away from his ear while speaking to your mother. “I’ve got a handle on it…well, alright.” His voice is faint, but you can still hear how begrudging his concession is.
“Dami, darling, you’re on speakerphone with the both of us.” Since coming home to a gourmet dinner and clean kitchen on Monday, your mother had grown quite fond of Damiano.
“Olivia, how are you this morning?” This time the warmth isn’t manufactured.
“I’m quite well and happy to hear that our girl is being taken care of.” Kevin huffs in disagreement. “Of course, taking the van with everybody else would have been better.”
“Normally that’d stand to reason, but y/n isn’t like everyone else, and her teammates remind her regularly. Today the competition broke multiple regulations by having y/n as the only omega in a room – actually, calling that arena a room isn’t accurate. It's the size of a skating rink. In a space of over 40 people, at least 25 alphas, most of them single, she was the only omega.”
“Oh my god. Kevin!”
“I feel deeply uncomfortable with any actions that might discourage y/n from repeating this behavior, whether overt or subliminal. Discipline is out of the question, since this was an issue of safety and y/n couldn’t have reacted more appropriately.” Your eyebrows must be in your hairline and it wasn’t just Dami’s eloquence. He was using his alpha authoritarianism to instruct your father on how to raise his daughter.
“Well that's a little dramatic.”
“In a state of flight, fawn, or freeze, an omega isn’t going to choose the best plan of action, but the easiest. They’re already battling sensory overwhelm, so I need to be her path of least resistance. When y/n goes “I think I might be in danger. What the hell can I do?’” Swearing in front of Kevin, even if just for emphasis, was a ballsy move. It seemed like Dami was too impassioned to care, both hands gesticulating as if he was speaking to your parents in person.
“I need her to think ‘I’ll call my alpha,’ not ‘I could call Damiano, but last time I did someone got mad at me.’ Because then she isn’t going to call me. She’s gonna choose the option that won’t keep her as safe,” he’s bordering on hysterical. Anxiety that concerned your well-being seemed to escalate and escalate out of Dami’s control. You put a hand on his leg, trying to ground him. He merely glances in your direction, but in that glance you can see all the scenarios he came up with on the drive over. Revenge raped. Alpha’s getting carried away and seriously injuring you by accident because they don’t yet know their own strength.
“Or maybe she’ll choose an option that won’t keep her safe at all.” You grab one of his hands and squeeze so he’ll focus on reality. “And if something happened to her because of that I would literally never forgive anyone –”
“Dami! Dami, I’m okay.” You undo your seatbelt and climb into his lap. “I’m fine. Hey, look at me. I’m fine.” He doesn’t want to meet your eyes initially, caught up in all the horrors of his mind. You force him to, knowing that your healthy contenance will soothe his panic.
“Y/n?” rings your mother's worried voice.
“Hi, mom. We pulled over a while ago, by the way.” Damiano looks at you, with his jaw in your right hand, nails of your left in his undercut. Your lower body is still on the center console, so he pulls you fully onto his lap, sitting sideways.
“Oh, well that's good.” If they think Dami is on the verge of a breakdown, your parents will interrupt today’s plans, which must be avoided at all costs. A weekend together was your reward for trying to “take space,” as Jay begrudgingly requested. It still struck you as a strange and damn near counterintuitive request for a new alpha-omega couple. Bonding was encouraged by society, and if there was a concern, it was over a lack of connection, not a surplus.
“I know Clio isn’t particularly fond of Damiano, but I think they could bond over worrying about things that are never going to happen.”
“It’s my job to worry about you.” He kisses you lightly (so the gesture doesn’t make a sound) but slow.
“And we do so appreciate your help today. Um…y/n, when will we see you next? Tomorrow?” Your father is grumbling in the background. Holding the phone away from her ear, but not nearly far enough for her words to be indistinguishable, your mother hisses at him. “I wouldn’t dream of separating them right now and if you ever went to the Support Meetings you’d understand why that’d be cruel.”
“You’ll see her tomorrow and y/n will keep you updated on our whereabouts via text now that her phone is on,” Damiano answers. “We’re gonna go to the game tonight.”
“I’ll be amusing myself by eating my weight in junk food and screaming random sports terminology.”
“She does it so confidently that nobody figures it out before our break,” he responds fondly.
“And you’ll be meeting friends there?” When your mother asks, the sentiment isn’t so accosting.
“Yeah, tons of people, plus I think y/n is inviting…”
“Gia and Xiema, if I can convince Xia to come. They’ll also be joining in on the junk food and heckling, of course.”
“Yeah, focusing on the actual game is too mainstream.”
“Only cool kids undermine the integrity of events because they’re too lazy to learn the rules.”
“You know the rules! You’re just hellbent on creating chaos to distract the opposing team.”
“I guess you know to ignore the random voice screaming ‘SPIKE IT’ as you’re trying to make a goal.” Dami is doing what you’ve donned The Possessed Seagull Laugh, bent over and leaning against you.
“Damiano, I’m sorry for raising such a heathen. I really tried my best,” your mother adds to the banter.
“Don’t apologize, she’s probably helped our point margins this season.”
“Help? I am solely responsible for your success.”
“Your humility is one of my favorite things about you, dear.”
“Oh yeah? That and the banshee screams at 10:00 AM right?”
“I especially enjoy the expressions of the opposing team at the end of the game when they realize the crazy woman in the stands is my omega.”
“Okay, okay, so it sounds like you guys have some great plans tonight,” she laughs. It’s been so long since you heard your mother’s laugh.
“Y/n, call me if you need someone to talk to before I see you tomorrow. I love you, be safe.”
“Love you too, bye!” Instead of getting back on the road, Damiano holds you for a minute with a hand up the back of your shirt. His face is pressed into your neck and you know he wants to be scented, but that’d make focusing on driving difficult. So he’s tiding himself over by admiring your mark. He thought you’d be upset at the scarring since it branded you as his for the near future. Who else am I going to spend my future with? you’d asked. Dami got a funny look and worked three dark and very visible hickies into your neck and shoulder that you were plagued with concealing from your father. At school you wore them proudly. Secretly, he’d wait around corners and watch you walk to class. Alphas did a double take and you never noticed.
Of course, his inner pessimist made Dami also ponder that If anything were to happen to him, or god forbid the relationship, the discolored skin would remain. The next alpha would have to bite through the scar tissue if they marked that side. It’d be much harder to get their teeth in, Damiano still guarding you from a world away.
“What are you thinking about?” He sits upright with that same strange expression.
“Oh, just toxic alpha stuff that would annoy you.” He pats your ass with finality. “Let's go home, hmm?” You climb back across the center console with his help. “And sorry for…freaking out on the phone call with your parents. I – Jay, I’ll talk to Jay about managing that.”
“It’s alright.” Wearing a genuine smile, you squeeze his leg, then keep your hands to yourself. Possessiveness and arousal were extremely close for alpha’s and you weren’t feeling up for the usual raucous lovemaking. The most accurate adjective was fragile and it was awful. You avoided fragility at all costs, especially the perception of it.
“I think I’m gonna quit the AE club. I can’t go through that again, it isn’t worth it.”
“Understandable.”
“All of the alphas are friends with each other and all the betas are friends with the alphas, but nobody except Rosemary is friends with me. I act like I don’t give a shit, obviously, but it kinda hurts a lot, I guess.”
“I won’t tell,” he whispers.
“Thalia says it feels like everybody has the 10th edition of a social handbook that she only has the first edition of. AE club is like that.”
“Alphas do relate to each other differently than omegas, that's not on you.”
“They just want to keep me on the outside and what's worse is – is that the other teams hated me because I’m an omega, but they hate my personality.”
“Baby, you said they’d accepted you!”
“As a human calculator, but I didn’t realize before today that – that it's different.” you get choked up and stop talking.
“Baby, I can’t imagine what you dealt with today. Rosemary and Sommar like you and I bet that –”
“Sommor likes that I make her look good as team captain. It’s self-serving.” Damiano pauses in thought before answering.
“Okay, that’s fair.” You appreciate his honesty, but hearing that Sommar actually did want to be your friend and she just had a weird way of showing it might have been better. Even if it was a lie. Suddenly, the fact that Dami had slept with her and didn’t tell you for two weeks, knowing she was on the team, is upsetting.
“Maybe she’s not so bad. She could have publicly humiliated me with the fact that you’d slept together and I’d be completely unprepared.” Her enduring loyalty to Dami was worse.“How many other people do you have keeping your secrets from me?”
“Woah!” You roll your eyes at his reaction. “A second ago you were fine with this.”
“I was fine with you fucking someone else before we met. Keeping it from me? Not okay. If I hadn’t put two and two together, would you have told me yourself? Or would you have waited for Sommor to do it?
“I would have told you.”
“When?”
“Today! I wasn’t sure that it was the right Sommar until I saw her. We spent about half an hour alone together, in the woods, at night. I didn’t know her last name.”
“Even if you weren’t sure, you should have told me.”
“If I told you every time there was a possibility that someone interacting with you had been a past hookup, you’d think I was a piece of shit. If we’re being completely honest, I wasn’t sober every time either, so some of them I don’t really remember. Okay? It’s embarrassing,” he confesses. It’s not as if you can argue with his experience, so you fall silent.
“I’m really sorry that you’ll be dealing with this baggage for the rest of high school. If I could go back, I’d change so much, but I’m stuck with this shit.” Looking at your hands, unsure how to respond, the tension thickens. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”
“I don’t know what to say! It feels like Sommor was keeping this secret out of continued loyalty to you and you were allowing it. I can see that's not how it was, but it still makes me insecure as fuck.”
“I wouldn’t do that, y/n, I swear.”
“God that whole fucking competition made me insecure. I can’t tell if I’m what's wrong or if it's bias or both. Today was such a mind fuck, I hated it.” You fix your gaze out the window, watching the other cars on the freeway. “I don’t even know why I bring it up, it's so rudimentary in comparison to what you deal with.”
“Y/n, no. You get to have problems that aren’t medical emergencies.”
“They’re superficial and petty.”
“I don’t give a fuck. If they’re affecting you, I want to know. If they’re not, I still want to know what you’re thinking.” He pauses to inhale. “Also nothing about today has been superficial, It’s real, heavy stuff. I need to know how you’re doing, ideally before anyone else.”
“Okay,” you agree, too bashful to meet his eyes. Luckily Damiano has a great sense of humor.
“I want to know if you have a particularly good cup of coffee and if you subsequently have a good shi –”
“Ew! Stop talking!”
“The role of digestive health is not to be underestimated!” he insists, jokingly. Then Dami’s tone becomes slightly serious.
“I guess I never told you this, but I used to get the worst upset stomachs. We went to a gastroenterologist who tested for celiac and lactose intolerance, then another that checked for inflammation, not a fun experience I’ll have you know. Everything was negative. They couldn’t figure it out until a nurse suggested that it's from anxiety. At first I couldn’t accept that it was all in my head.”
“Baby, has this been going on and you were hiding it?”
“No,” he smiles. “When I’m with you, I never get stomach aches. It happened almost immediately. When I was trying to keep my distance some days I’d feel so sick, but I’d just tell myself, ‘make it till the end of the 6th block.’ Then I’d hug you and the rush of oxytocin would… I’d be okay. My body remembered how to regulate.”
“Damiiiii,” you whine, emotional. “Why didn't you tell me before?”
“Because ‘you cured my psychosomatic IBS’ is a creepy thing to say.”
“Creepy isn’t the word I would use.”
“And how the fuck am I supoosed to lead into that? Give me one way to lead in that isn’t gross.”
“I –” you begin to say, but end up stumped. “Okay I see your point.”
“Thank you.” You spend the rest of the car ride in comfortable silence. Or rather, Damiano spends the rest of the car ride in comfortable silence and you are left alone with your thoughts. So far today, that has proven a very bad position to occupy.
Yeah, Dami found your behavior at games funny, but he must also find it annoying. Why hasn't he mentioned that you were embarrassing him? Surely these quirks will stop being amusing when the novelty wears off. If your personality isn’t interesting, then what is it besides contrary? You’d made a joke about the integrity of the event, as if sports wasn’t an integral part of Dami’s life and identity. It helped him manage his symptoms, but you always made everyone aware that you were above taking matches seriously. He didn’t hold himself superior to anything in your life.
Damiano sighs upon putting the car in park. He should have kept talking to you, because now you have an expression like your soul has been crushed under someone’s boot. He has a close enough relationship with self loathing to know what it looks like.
Dami gets out of the car and walks around the hood. The sound of the driver’s side door closing makes you look up for the first time in several minutes. Slowly, you unbuckle your seatbelt, unsure if he intends to do the gentlemanly thing and open the door. Damiano does, but he crouches down to sit on the driveway as soon as you swing your legs out. It's the same gesture as earlier this week, which means this wasn’t out of convenience. Damiano was purposefully positioning himself lower than you, as a rare act of submission. If you couldn’t confide in him as your alpha, maybe you’d talk to Dam, your friend.
“Give me both hands and look at me,” he requests, as softly as he’s able. You extend your hands and gaze out from under your lashes.
“Will you keep looking at me?” You nod, already wanting to divert your eyes away from such intensity. “Do you promise?” He’s never asked you to promise this before.
“Um, yes.”
“When I decided that we could enter a relationship, I knew I was dating a 15 year old. I never expected the maturity level of dating someone my own age, but you’re very good at pretending. I’m not gonna lie, it's convenient.” He takes a deep breath and you realize you hadn’t inhaled since Dami began speaking. “But if I have to watch another second of you hating yourself for acting 15 because you are 15, my heart is gonna break, love.” You’re shaking and your face feels hot, but are too stunned to cry. “You get to be 15. You get to rant about your social life. You get to be a pain in the ass omega and you’ll still be owed unconditional love and protection from me, your alpha.”
“I don’t want to be a burden,” you whisper.
“Too bad, I want you to be my burden.”
“But you’ll resent me,” you whimper, feeling the scalding hot tears run down your face and snot from your nose. It must have been a great look, especially from Dami’s angle.
“No. I’ll be fulfilled.” You shake your head and holding eye contact is hell. “Why would I ask for something that would create problems in our relationship? I’m not about to sabotage this.” He’s right, it doesn’t make sense. “Y/n, you’re used to caring for other people and you’re really good at it, but this isn’t a one-sided relationship. Just like you help me deal with my pain, I’m going to do the same. Sometimes that's gonna be difficult for you because this is new, but I’m going to insist anyway.”
Finally you break eye contact, staring at the clouded sky as mascara drips. You try to cover your face, but Damiano won’t give you back use of your hands. He’s not giving you space to hide, not a single inch.
“Look at me.” You shake your head. “Y/n, look at me,” he demands. With a hint of resentment, your gaze finds his.
“Give me your burden.”
“What the fuck does that even mean?” You try to put a wall up.
“You’ve had to bear this all by yourself, but now you’re not alone. You are not alone.”
“We’re in a relationship for fucks sake I know that –”
“Y/n listen to me. You are not alone. Be emotional, be inconvenient, be 15.”
“As opposed to what?” you challenge, because that was easier. “What have I been this whole time, huh? What are you talking about?”
“You are not alone,” he repeats, patiently.
“No shit! There's this crazy man that won’t let me use my hands.”
“You are not alone. Y/n is not alone.”
“What the fuck are you even talking about!?” Even as you try to dismiss the whole thing, you gasp for air and taste snot. After wiping that on your arm indignantly, you try to steel yourself and end up with a sob.
“You are not alone. You are not alone.”
“Uh! Stop saying that!”
“Y/n is not alone. She is not alone. You are not alone. You are not alone.” A different version of you would have fought it out for another 30 seconds at least, and maybe even managed to control her emotions. This version of y/n knew how good it would feel to cave and fall into her alpha’s loving arms.
“I feel so fucking fragile,” you confess, knees aching as they collide with asphalt. Damiano holds you in a way that could squeeze a thousand broken pieces together. He picks you up off the ground and kicks the car door closed.
“Got your phone, love?” You nod, annoyed by the strands of hair stuck to your face as the skin becomes tacky. Who knew that your body would remember every tear you didn’t cry and demand that the debt be paid in full? It was brutal, but a relief. As Dami opens the door, you try to convince yourself that his parents seeing you as a hot mess doesn’t matter after the entire neighborhood just witnessed the mental breakdown.
“Hey, I made you some snacks to bring back to your room,” is the first thing you hear Matteo say. He pushes a tray full of food and drinks into Damiano’s hands, probably worried about you fainting again.
“Thank you so much.” You hug him, not because that's the routine, but because it feels right. “I’m sorry for ruining your whole morning.”
“No, no, I heard about – well let's not talk about that now. Are you okay?” Typically you’d respond affirmatively, regardless of if the house was burning down. Today you try to come up with an honest statement.
“It feels like everyone thinks I’m a bitch.”
“Well, I certainly –”
“False! Entirely false! Nobody thinks that, baby.”
“Bremen literally told me that nobody likes me because I’m a bitch.” You glance over your shoulder and see Damiano turning red from anger. It's a good thing he’s holding the tray so he can’t go straight to his phone.
“Sommar agreed with him, but said that being a bitch is a good thing.”
“Next time I see that little shit stain I’m gonna break him in half and then –” Matteo interrupts Dami’s enraged muttering.
“If you were an alpha they would have called those leadership qualities and recommended you seek out management positions in the workplace.” Matteo’s words reframe your entire perception of today and beyond. “Something possesses people at high school competitions to act so heinously. Ignore it if you can, or even listen to music. That always helps Dam.
“Well I’m quitting the AE team, anyway.”
“Oh, really? I read that… “ He shifts his gaze onto his son behind you, searching for a signal of some sort. “I read that you got second place.”
“She kicked ass,” he announces proudly. If Dami had been in the arena, he’d have seen that you were a quivering mess.
“But it kicked right back,” you joke, looking down the hall longingly.“It’s such an injustice that you have to change.” Matteo opens his mouth to speak further, but sees the exhaustion in your eyes and stops. “A conversation for another time,” he says, with finality, and turns towards the kitchen. The gesture allows you to politely walk away.
Notes: A throwback to when I originally started posting in that this isn't not proofread.
Taglist: @bieberhoodforever @blackberryblossom @butkutee @cuzimitaliano @elvirabelle @iamtashaquinn@icarodamiano @ilwiwbysmv @immrbrightsideeee @little-moonbeam-666 @maneslut @mortyandem @the-chaotic-cow @wasteddoubts @weareoddlydrawn @whore4damia @azertyhug @biancathecool @bohemianrainbow @daisy0gf @dustyinkpages @katyldamusic @minnietmouse @obiw4n @persona1read1ng @gr8rainbowpunk @hiraetheral @l0standn0tf0und @que--sera--sera @stardustingold @teenyweenynightghost @softmullet @solacestyles @thegeminisgirl @bobfood @slavicgoddess13 @bright-shiningstar @lizzylynch1
#maneskin#måneskin#må#daminao#damiano david#damiano maneskin#maneskin damiano#damiano david x reader#damiano david imagine#damiano david fluff#damiano david fanfiction#damiano david angst#maneskin fanfiction#maneskin imagine#maneskin x reader#omegaverse#alpha beta omega#alpha and omega#alpha/beta/omega au
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Newsies as things that have happened in school (first day edition)
Medda: Yeah when I was in high school orchestra we had very competitive seating so like if you were a fifth chair and you wanted to be a third chair you would have to challenge whoever was in the third chair and you would have a playoff- it was very intense. And then if you won the chair challenge you got the chair closer to the conductor, it was a real thing
Crutchie: What in the high school musical-
Denton: It falls around Thanksgiving-
Mike: *very quietly* gobble gobble...
Denton: ... What was that?
Medda: The sophomores are in a meeting right now so they aren't with us today-
Race: *a sophomore, currently sitting in Medda's class* ...The sophomores are what
Albert: I'm an 11th grader in a freshman class they're gonna know I'm dumb!
Finch: Lie about your grade
Race: Put on a fake accent and say you're from Russia
Albert: Guten tag!
Finch: ...That's the wrong language
Race: This is why you're in a freshman class as a junior
Race: Smell me
Spot: I'll pass
Race: No I smell good
Albert: He smells like cookies
Spot: I... I am not going to smell you
Davey: *walks into a class that's only for juniors to see a bunch of underclassmen but also other juniors (Jack, Mike, Ike, and Oscar)* uhhhh... Is this the right-
Jack: Yeah somethin's fucked up
Davey, Jack, Mike, Ike, and Oscar: *currently supposed to be in a class meeting in another room*
Race: My social Security number is 735. 814-
Davey: STOP YOU'RE GOING TO GET IMPERSONATED IF YOU KEEP DOING THAT!!!
Elmer: I still can't drive
Buttons: his mom lost his social Security card
Crutchie: She what-
Wiesel: Come on, hurry up
Hotshot: We're goin!
Spot: Oh my god you guys are strolling! Aren't you on the football team? You gonna take us to states?? Do you move this slow on the field??
Race: You know they do
Denton: Welcome good morning I know you're all excited to be back- don't answer that
An inspirational video they were forced to watch: "He taught his whole team how to say I love you in sign language!"
Race: *slowly leans forward and makes the I love you sign at Albert*
Albert: *flips him off*
Race: :(
Davey: Oh god the sophomore hallway REEKS of Axe Body Spray
Jack: *joking* I know this is your doing, Elmer
Elmer: :(
Denton: Welcome to creative writing your teacher is crying it's a great first day
Race: damnit I have a scrimmage after school
Denton: What sportsball do you play?
Race: Soccer
Denton: And who are you sportsballing against?
Race: Brooklyn
Denton: Crush em
Romeo: OH MY GOD I JUST SENT THIS GUY STREAKS AND LOOK AT WHAT HE SENT BACK
The message: "I want to choke you with my cock"
Myron: WHAT THE FUCK
*in creative writing class with the gay teacher*
Davey: uh, hi. My name is David, he/him. My favorite book is Salt to the Sea and my favorite author is Ruta Sepetys, who wrote it. My main genres I like to write are realistic fiction and sci fi or fantasy. I write because I have a lot of ideas and if I don't put them somewhere I won't be able to function.
Romeo: wassup, I'm Romeo, he/they but I don't mind the occasional she/her. My favorite book is the Hunger Games and my favorite author is Rick Riordan. My primary genre I like to write is fanfiction and I write because media consumes me and if I like something it's all I can think about for weeks at a time.
Davey, in his head: shit man I mean me too but I'd never have the guts to say that out loud in front of a class-
Jack: Dress code! Dress code violation! Dress code!
Sarah: What does my turtleneck show too much?
Buttons: *GASP* I WANT THE CHAIR WITH THE WHEELS!!! IS THIS FOR THE TEACHER CUZ IT'S FOR ME NOW-
Race: I didn't have my protein shake this morning I am lacking!
Crutchie: Didn't you drink your first one a couple weeks ago- if even??
Race: Actually, Jack's mom gave me like $100 worth of coupons-
Davey: *about Spot* He sings both baritone and tenor.
Jack: He's bivocal
Race: I hate it when he calls me white man because then I can't say anything back or I'll sound unintentionally racist!!!
Jack: Fuckin white man
Race: Stoppp!
Wiesel: We're programmed as human beings to respond with care to things in need. Which is a good thing because otherwise we would probably drown all of our babies-
Crutchie: HUH???
Wiesel: You've programmed your brain to think like that about your phones- *continues like normal*
Crutchie: *20 minutes later* did he not say something about drowning babies???
Race: Fuck I have to take my makeup off before soccer but I don't have any makeup wipes!!
Spot: *jokingly* If you didn't wear makeup to school we wouldn't be having this issue
Albert: Did you just call him an ugly whore??
Spot: Yeah, actually
Romeo: *with nobody paying attention to them* Y'all ready? Y'all ready? *moves backwards and promptly trips over Specs's feet*
Specs: *literally in the middle of a conversation with Finch* ... You good?
Romeo: You tripped me! I was moon walkin!
TW Under the cut jokes about sewerslide and the f slur by someone who can claim it
Race: *jokingly at Smalls* Ewwwww! Freshman!
Smalls: KILL YOURSELF YOU STUPID FAGGOT!!!!
Jack: :0
Race: :0
Jack: did she just-
Race: THERE WAS NO HESITATION???
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Group Chat
v1:🔪❕
PapaWeylyn: Why do I see Zeph chasing an 11th grader with a huge stick and fury in her eyes down the sidewalk?
PapaWeylyn: What did I even miss??
PapaWeylyn: I just came out of the gates and that's the first thing I saw :'D
F.Heartstein: Frankly, you didn't miss much. The 11th Grader said something, let's say, vile towards Zephyrine, and it's obvious she didn't take it very well.
PapaWeylyn: And who encouraged her to chase him with a stick????????
WtfEliseo: that would be me lmao
WtfEliseo: the dude deserves it
WtfEliseo: a simple slap wouldnt be enough tbh 😒😒
PapaWeylyn: Wha
PapaWeylyn: Fleur why aren't you stopping this?!?!?
F.Heartstein: I could, but I don't think stopping a rage induced Vel delle would be the greatest of ideas.
PapaWeylyn: FLEUR (;´༎ຶД༎ຶ`)
F.Heartstein: It's called self-preservation, and I rather not get hit by a stick today.
WtfEliseo: I mean tbh if it weren't illegal I wouldve just given zeph a gun 🤔🤔🤔
F.Heartstein: Too noisy and attention grabbing, and I doubt you'll give her a silencer with the pistol because you don't own one.
WtfEliseo: I KEEP FORGETTING TO BUY ONE OKAY? 😭😭💀
PapaWeylyn: Wait you own guns? O_o
WtfEliseo: yes weylyn i thought we talked about this before 😑😑🙄
PapaWeylyn: Wh
F.Heartstein: Regardless, if it were me I would've given Zephyrine a knife. Much more quiet and discrete, and can be easily found in the kitchen.
WtfEliseo: boring give her a butterfly knife or a switchblade
WtfEliseo: much cooler to kill a person with 😃😃
F.Heartstein: I don't think Zephyrine knows how to wield a switchblade nor a butterfly knife. She might end up injuring herself instead of the culprit. I propose using an ice pick instead. Quick, efficient, and easy to use.
WtfEliseo: do you even own an ice pick???
F.Heartstein: Yes, I do. I thought you already know about this. I literally threatened to gouge your eyes out yesterday for being unhelpful.
WtfEliseo: oooohhh riiiiight
WtfEliseo: lmao wasnt really listening ehe 😋😋😋
F.Heartstein: Why am I not surprised.
WtfEliseo: bc you love me thats why 😘😘😍
F.Heartstein: Keep telling yourself that.
PapaWeylyn: Um are we just going to ignore that Zeph's literally about to commit a murder???
WtfEliseo: yes yes we are
F.Heartstein: I see no point in worrying about it.
PapaWeylyn: WHAT IF SHE GETS INTO JAIL THOUGH???
PapaWeylyn: THINK ABOUT THE POLICE
WtfEliseo: shhhhh zeph will be fiiiiiine 😄😄😄
WtfEliseo: any minute now she's gonna swoop in with a selfie and some caption going "woopsies" over the dude's unconscious body
PapaWeylyn: THATS NOT HELPING
F.Heartstein: To be fair, that would be on brand of Zephyrine to do that.
PapaWeylyn: Stop just stop please :')
PapaWeylyn: I question sometimes why am I even friends with you all 〒▽〒
WtfEliseo: because you love us 😍😍😘
PapaWeylyn: I mean that's true but still
PapaWeylyn: You both scare me sometimes இ௰இ
F.Heartstein: I'm surprised that you've stayed this long, actually. Seeing how Eliseo and I can be at times.
PapaWeylyn: I got used to it TwT
PapaWeylyn: And I'm surprised you guys didn't fight today
F.Heartstein: We already filled that quota hours ago. You weren't around when it happened.
PapaWeylyn: And there goes my good job for you both :'D
WtfEliseo: lmao f
*ZephGoWoosh sent a photo
-> The photo is a blurred selfie of Zephyrine's face in the corner of the frame, clearly looking like she's running with a caption saying: "help me i didnt kno the guy had big bros"
WtfEliseo: HABAHAHAHAGAHAHSDUSBSJBS LMAOOOOOOO 💀💀💀
PapaWeylyn: ZEPH
F.Heartstein: Eliseo, if you mind.
WtfEliseo: already on my way lmao
PapaWeylyn: Gods above take me already please
*Group Chat ended
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I accidentally took a two hour nap this afternoon so now I feel very much not ready for bed and also daylights savings continues to confuse my body. So it's after 10 and I'm just starting this.
I had a good day though! Just busy. I slept a little better last night. But waking up was super hard. I would get out of bed and found myself just with a stiff neck and feeling really tired. I was just moving really slow.
James had jury duty today. So they would leave right after me. I wore the wrong jacket and would be very cold. But it was fine. The car would be warm enough.
I stopped for breakfast and went over to the museum.
We had a highschool tour first thing. None of us realize it was an extended tour. So once the school was there we were like. Okay!! Add in transportation and pharmacy. And it was fine. They were such good kids. Some of the other groups apparently weren't very chatty but our little group was and they were really fun. Had excellent questions and made me laugh. At once point in the begining I asked them what industry meant and they were all quiet and one goes "guys!! We gotta get this!! Our teacher is gonna kill us!!" And it was just so funny.
We didn't have much time after the tour to grab a drink. Because we had a 1st-3rd grade tour right away. We don't normally have tours for that age. And it was funny jumping right into that from 11th graders. It was a nice tour though and the kids were super sweet. I also liked the teachers a lot. They were Monasori kids so I was looking forward to seeing how they approached balls and track later one.
We would have a break for lunch. I ate my sandwich and worked on my knitting. I would finish my first ball of yarn before the end of the next program.
And the kids enjoyed building. But also just watching me knit. Kids are so funny though asking if I can give them my project when I am done. And I'm like. I'm not going to be done before you leave?? Silly geese.
They would soon leave me. After a visit to the car. And I would sit in the back talking to Gaby and Mubtasin about toy collecting and how stupidly expensive thrift stores have gotten. And then I had to go.
I went to get pizza at 711. And then drove to my rhumatologist for my appoint.
And everyone there is so nice the woman at the front desk is always so lovely to me. The doctor is great. The medical assistant. The woman who does the injections. The only person who gives me weird energy is the phlebotomist. She just seems so annoyed at me every time and I don't understand it.
At least the nice guy who checked me in last time was there. And I got to show him my art and we talked for a bit. And then the doctor came in and she said she isn't to worried about my nose but wants me to get set up with a new dermatologist anyway so this is a good time to start working on that. And then it was time to get some blood taken. Which again. Weird energy. She also said I was dehydrated and my blood was moving slow. So I gotta be more mindful of that next time I get blood taken I guess.
The injections went just fine. Quick. Only a little pain. My one leg bled a lot for some reason but it was fine. I set up my next appointment and headed out.
I got really really tired in the drive home. I drank all my water. And had a snack and made it back in one piece but man was I tired.
I would get inside and get in bed and wait for James to come home. They did not get picked to be on a jury. And would lay in bed with me for a few minutes. Eventually I fell asleep.
They woke me up around 6. And I was very disoriented. But I was okay. I had a salad and a vegetarian chicken patty for dinner. And made two more bear designs.
Auni suffered a make one based on a former congresswoman that was known for her hats. And so I did that. And made an old bay themed one too. It was fun. Eventually I would move to the studio to try to cast some bears. I'm still struggling getting my resin to set consistently. But we will keep trying.
Brandon came over tonight. And we talked for a bit while I worked on my knitting. And now James and Brandon are watching a show and I'm hanging out with Sweetp and texting with Laura about America-core and it's very funny to me. I hope she comes back to camp this year.
Tomorrow I have my first class at the hospital! I hope it's fun. And then I have my meeting with the craft castle. Fingers crossed cause I think it could be really great!! Goodnight everyone! Be safe!!
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POSTING SONE SKETCHES I MADE FROM LIKE 8TH TO 11TH GRADE BEACAHSE THIS YEAR I AM GOING TO FINISH SCHOOL YAYAY AND MAYBE SOMETIMES ADDI G A LITTLE CONTEXT BECAUSE ITS FUN IDK
HOW I DREW MYSELF IN 8TH(?) GRADE (LOVE THE DATH NOTE AHIRT TGAT LOOKS LIKE A BADLY DRAWN SONIC OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT) ALSO I GET WHY THE 5TH GRADERS CALLED ME EMO
OF VOURSE THE BNHA AND DANGANRONPA FANART LMAO
DYED STREAK OF HAIR LETSGOO (ALSO PROBABLY 8TH GRADE BECAISE I REMEMBER THE BACKGROUND BEING SUPPOSED THE COUCH CUSHION I GOT WHEN MY ROOM WAS RENOVATED WHICH WAS MIDDLE OF 7TH GRADE SO IDK)
FISH BOWL IG
CONPMETELY DYED BLONDE HAIR AND FLANEL SHIRT SLAY
NOT A SCHOOL SKETCH BUT IN THE SAME FOLDER. MUSTVE BEEN LIKE 2020? MAYBE 2021? PROBABLY LISTENED TO MCR WHILE SOLVING(?) THE SUDOKU
SHORTLY AFYER THAT I SHAVED MY HEAD FOR THE FIRST TIME YAYAY
EMO EMU THAT I GLUED ON A PRESENTATION POSTER (DONT KNOW WHAT THEYRE CALLED IN ENGLISH SORRY) ABOUT AUSTRALIA BECAUSE I AM LITERALLY THE FJNNIEST PERSON EVER
A GERARD WAY I DREW ON THE BACKSIDE OF THE NOTES FOR THE INTRO OF WTTBP THAT MY SISTER WROTE DOWN FOR ME TO LEARN LOLOL I REMEMBER BEING SO UNHAPPY WITH THIS ONE BUT I DONT THINK IT LOOKS THAT BAD RN (BUT I AM A LITTLE TIPSY AND TIRED SO WHI TF KNOWS)
MOUTHS I HAD TO DRAW FOR ART CLASS AND I REMEMBER BEING LITERALLY THE ONLY ONE WHO DID THIS TASK
FIRST DRAWING OF MYSELF WIRH SHAVED HAIR,.SO PROBABLY BEGINNING OF 2022
THOSE ARE THE DRAWINGS FROM MY FORAT FOLDER, GONNA POAT THE REST EITHER NOW OR TOMORROW LOL
Also sorry for any typing mistakes and shit but i can't be arsed to correct anything and only, like, 1 person will see this anyway and i don't even know if they'll read through all this, but if you are: HI:D SORRY AND THANKS IG LOVE YOU
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🦊🐻 Chapter Three & 2/4 Welcome Home 🐻🦊
My stay in Monterrey began with a phone call to the Cullens. I used the phone in the sitting room to dial Esme's mobile number from memory. She must've still been in morning class with the 11th and 12th graders but she answered on the first ring.
I can hear in the background, 'Alright everyone, Miss Brown will be taking you through the next song, remember she is your teacher just like me so be respectful.' Footsteps
'Will I be teaching the rest of class Mrs. Cullen?'
'No. I'll just be in my office if you need anything, I shan't be long'
She spoke directly into the phone now, "Who is this?"
"Hi Esme" I say
"Oh, Jasper! Sweetheart, are you okay, I've been so worried about you, we all have. Alice had a vision of you back the south" Her voice cracked and dropped to a quiet whisper, "Please tell me you're coming home."
Her voice dropped of heartbreak and can feel the guilt creeping in. I repressed it. "I'm sorry Esme, I don't mean to worry you. I'm fine, I'm in Monterrey. You needn't worry."
"Mexico? What are you doing there? That's near the southern clans right, you shouldn't be there! Sweetie, please come home!" She doesn't know the gory details but she knows enough.
"I'm sorry I can't, not right now, not while she's there. I'm with Maria now, and I'm gonna be staying for a while. Please don't worry about me"
"Jasper I'll miss you"
"Goodbye Esme" I hung up before I can allow myself to regret any part of this.
Once I'm finished with that I figured there is no point dwelling on the decision, so I find Maria. She is in the main area where the newborns are trained. The man, Ricardo, not much older than them struggled to keep a handle on the feral vampires, it's pitiful.
"What ditch did you find him in? He's painful to watch." I ask
"He is wandering, lost. I thought that he would have some skills being from the streets and all but he's as useless as he looks. I would have burned him by now but I can't find anybody to replace him." She scoffed, "If you want your job back I'm sure I can create an opening."
"That would be appreciated" I say, I could use a distraction.
Maria stood up and took Ricardo by the hand, whispering softly as she led him outside. I stopped listening then and focused on calming the newborns. Even without the use of my gift I think they sensed that I can kill them easily, and straightened up accordingly.
I soon smelled the tell-tail sweet smoke outside and Maria traipsed back in the house putting her hands on my shoulders, "Bienvenido a casa"
I smile and we walk over to the once feral newborns that now lounged on the barn floor, like puppy dogs.
"Pupils, this is Major Whitlock. He will be your instructor from now on. You are to answer to him and only him. He is your commander now and whatever he says you must do. If you have a problem with this then you may join dear Ricardo in the flames." She paused. It feels strange to hear that name again, I'd been a Hale for so long now, it feels good to hear my name again, but I'd been hoping to hear it from someone else. "The Major will tell you your new training times starting tomorrow. Today you have the rest of the day off." I can feel Maria's elation at having me back. The shock has worn off leaving a blank feeling in its place, I let Maria's happiness become my own. I can do this.
—---------------------------
It's only been a month but it's edging on insanity. Maria's gained back her lost territory and more. I don't think I've ever seen her happier. It's been easy to take territory seeing as most of the other clans have dissolved but there have still been nomads to contend with. The newborns slaughtered them, but I know it's my fault.
The blood, the parties, I don't mind. But the death and the missing are tearing me apart. I want to see Isabella again, even if only to see that she's okay. I realised a while ago that I'm in love with her. The kind of feeling that leaves you walking on clouds, and it's the only reason I've been able to be okay with this, all the bad that goes on here.
Before I didn't think that it would be safe, that I could be safe. But after being constantly surrounded by human blood all this time, I know that I can face her. Still one thought keeps me from leaving.
What if she hates me? Hates me for manipulating her, thinks I'm a monster because she knows very well what she saw. Not to mention my family is probably going to be upset, especially Rose.
But I have to leave. The depression is creeping back in and I need my violin more than ever. I can't take it, Maria's advances, the death, the silence. Maria's guilt, the absence of my guilt. She would be an ally for sure, a trusted one, but I can't love someone who'd hurt me so deeply. The grudge is gone and I know she wouldn't hurt me again but I can't let her drag me back. Giving her power over me like that would be extremely dangerous. I did it once and have no desire to repeat the experience. I shouldn't have let myself burn, I don't deserve it and I think I finally realise that now.
But I won't leave her the same way I did before, I'm not that kind of person.
—---------------------------
I'm waiting for Maria when she enters her room. Her emotions are wary.
"I think you know why I'm here."
She nods, looking like she's about to cry, I ignore it.
"This life isn't mine anymore, I can't do this. And I can't do this to you, I'm not in love with you and I never was. I want you to know that I don't hate you. I'm not going to waste my energy hating you, there's no point." Her emotions spin wildly, "But I can't stay here, and I'm not asking you to let me go because I don't need your permission but I am a good person and I can't be that here and in honour of that I just wanted you to know that I am leaving and I have no intent of ever coming back." The words have no malice but the effect is the same as if I had screamed them. I leave.
I can hear her falling apart in the distance and I don't feel smug but I'm not exactly sorry either. She'll get over it quickly, I know she will.
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If I'm being real, I'm always fearful of giving an actual Opinion on Fandom because whenever I do, I stick my foot all the way down my throat and look like a total ass. Been this way ever since I called out some yt people in my high school class for wasting all of our goddamn time vehemently denying their passive racism to our Black teacher (was actually less of a callout and more of a "omigod will you people just shut the fuck UP"). Now why that was even a topic to discuss in class is a whole goddamn book and a half about the high school program for us 11th graders on race, class, sex/gender, etc.
So I always admire the people who don't mind calling shit out. But my god, one day I'm gonna fucking snap and burn down all the bridges and I'll be sorry but not really but kinda but also really not really.
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ho ho ho fucker !!!
my greeting was in-fact ripped from the great chip bunker himself AND i hope that youve had a great saturday, december 11th (im sorry i know that greeting was aggressive!!)
to start - im really glad that im able to be santa for you!! i love how in-depth you are with every answer and i love reading it all and getting to know you - its a highlight to my mornings now!!
also, theres no such thing as carried away for me! as a fellow (but more recently medicated) person with adhd, i completely understand it all <3
i cant say that we line up on many tv shows, but i dont watch many to begin with... as for movies tho, i love your picks! fun fact ive just recently watched forest gump for the first time this year😳 its embarrassing as a movie lover. AND i dressed up with a friends as pedro (they were napoleon) for halloween in the fourth grade... i got to wear a wig, their brother clothes, and a eyeliner-pencil mustache and silently hold my “vote for pedro” sign. it was truly my peak as a person. midsommar SHOCKED me to my core but i loved it so so much. horror/thriller movies like that really are the cats pajamas
for other hyperfixations... i LOVE!!! i really love the attempt at reading twilight that young 😂 even with an older sibling i had no clue what that was until sixth grade. i 100% relate to the discovery of fanfic really fueling the fire... i wasnt a quizzilla person but i was totally in love with quotev (another quiz/fanfic site if you arent familiar). percy jackson was HUGE for me all throughout middle school and honestly still is - rick riordans world building is truly phenomenal. (gotta say it tho: leo stans rise UP😤)
TODAY lets get into some fun ??? shall we...
if you could choose to live in any fictional universe, which would it be? why?
in this universe, what would your ideal life look like? with danny of course!😉
BONUS: when you answered my question about why you loved danny, you mentioned you loved cats the most. do you have a cat? any pets? if not, do you want any?
remember santa loves u !! and hopes you have not fall victim to any of the “greta van feet” content ive seen on my dash today!
🎅🏼
#26
Good morning santa!! It’s so nice to know you enjoy reading what I wrote in the mornings, I’m glad I can help start your day! It’s funny you mention your feed yesterday because I actually wasn’t on tumblr for most of yesterday- my mom is in town and I spent all day yesterday (and will continue to do so today) helping her and her two work friends navigate Manhattan. It’s super fun, of course, but my mom can be a lot and also I checked my health app when I got home yesterday and I had walked nine miles.
Anyway
I absolutely am familiar with quotev!! That’s where I used to get all my good Teen Wolf fics back in the day (I forgot to mention that in my hyperfixations list- that was a big one too). Also I’m absolutely obsessed with the idea of a fourth grader dressed up as Pedro for Halloween.
Now this is gonna sound funny, but this is one of the first things I thought of when I read your first question and the more I kept thinking about it the more it sounded like super ideal. Okay so if I could live in any fictional universe, I’d wanna live in Pixie Hollow from the Tinker Bell movies. They always look like they’re having a great time just whizzing around doing and making stuff and everything’s so simple and there’s no capitalism I feel like it would just be a really happy life. I feel like I would probably be either a Water fairy or a Winter fairy. After writing this out I feel like this isn’t the direction you were anticipating me taking but oh well santa I live to keep you on your toes. I hope you’re familiar with this fictional universe and I don’t sound crazy lol
Oh wow I did not consider the second question when answering the first. Okay. Danny would be aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaauuuuuuummmmmmm tinker fairy. The cute one who I go to for tools and other work instruments(?) that I break on purpose so that I have more excuses to go see him and have him fix them for me. He’s good with his hands so I feel like it’d fit for him. He’d still have his long hair but it’d be pretty constantly braided back while he’s working, maybe it’d be down when we met at night after the day’s work is done. See this seems like such a simple happy life why aren’t I a small nature fairy whose only responsibility is to create dewdrops what the fuck.
So finally, I am devastated to report that I do not have any pets at the moment. When I was in college I swore to myself that as soon as I was able I would adopt a cat, but my apartment is just so small I feel like a cat (and it’s litterbox) would really overwhelm the space. And a cat is a big responsibility (both financially and just in everyday life) that I’m not sure I’m ready for just yet. THAT BEING SAID, my mom has an absolutely lovely tuxedo cat named Hamilton that she adopted last year from a cat cafe in my college town on a visit. I love him dearly even though the love is pretty one-sided, but he puts up with me whenever I’m home visiting and that’s all I can ask for.
I love u dearly secret santa and I hope you’re having a good weekend. I appreciated your chip bunker reference also
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Video Games || 2018 || PT. 1
“Your house is nice.”
Dean says, mostly to be polite but also cause he means it. Levi scoffs, leading him around the cluttered kitchen island towards the basement steps. His older sister, Sabrina, had already stalked upstairs, but she’d smiled when Dean told her she was a good driver, and had let him pick out which Paramore CD to play. She smelled really good, too, but Dean wasn’t about to risk one of the only friendships he had. And, until yesterday when he asked him to hang out after school today, Levi had been strictly a practice and class friend. They usually had to run laps together for dicking around between drills and usually got detention together for dicking around between classes, but this was different. It’s not like Dean was hurting for friends-everyone liked him and he and most of the other 11th graders on the football team hung out together in a big group, but no one has ever invited him over to their house. Just him.
And Levi. Dean really likes Levi. Really likes him. He, Dean notices as they settle on the well worn couch, also smells really good.
Shit. Fuck. Dean stops just short of shaking himself. He-well he wasn’t gay. He likes girls. But he also likes…Levi. It’s stupid and Dean knows it-the best thing that could come out of acting on those sorts of feelings is getting completely ostrichized. He’d be lucky if he didn’t end up hospitalized, for that matter. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t look. Or think about him before he falls asleep. Or purposefully get detention for the third time in a week so they could keep hanging out. Levi settles next to him, and it’s not weird for Dean to look, so he does. Curly black hair and eyes that were green in the right light. A tan that was half freckles and a quarter Puerto Rico and a smile that keeps Dean up at night, one he returns easily.
“Oh.” Levi says, standing again to grab the Xbox controllers. Dean tries not to look at his ass but it’s right there. Maybe he just likes nice asses. That’s not that weird.
Levi hands him the controller and continues to fuck with his Xbox.
“Madden or call of duty?”
Dean scoffs “You think after finally being done with football season, I wanna play football on screen?”
“So you suck at Madden?” Levi responds, booting up the game and laughing when Dean flips him off.
“No I’m just trying to be a good guest-“
“You just flipped me the bird-“
“I don’t think it’s polite to kick your host’s ass within 20 minutes of arrival.”
“Whatever.” Levi says, sitting back on the couch and closer to Dean. It’s just because he has wired controllers and doesn’t want to stretch the cord out. Dean has to stop from physically yelping when their knees touch. He shifts away. Levi, for his part, is texting.
“My mom says you can eat dinner with us if you want.”
The thought of processed food not from the organic grocery store is even more attractive than his friend or his sister.
“Oh cool. Sure, thanks.”
Levi raises an eyebrow. “You’re not even gonna ask your parents?”
“Do they still hold your hand when you cross the street, little boy?”
“Fuck off. “Levi shoves him and Dean laughs
“Nah I don’t have to do shit. My mom doesn’t care about me and Kenny forgets my name once football is over.”
“Oh shut up, sad sack your mom cares about you.” Levi rolls his eyes and picks the Dallas Cowboys as his team. Dean let’s him and picks the Patriots simply because-
“Why the fuck did you pick the worst team to ever fucking exist?”
“I figured if you’re gonna insist that I kick your ass I might as well break your spirit too.”
Levi shoves him again and Dean’s mission is accomplished. “Bastard.”
“Yeah, technically.”
Levi rolls his eyes again and they start to play. When Levi is down 40 points, Dean speaks.
“She really doesn’t care though. My mom. Which is cool most of the time cause I can do whatever I want, but last year she forgot about my birthday until it was 6 weeks later.”
Levi turns his head to look at him. “Oh you’re not kidding, are you?”
“Why do you think she bought me a car before I could drive?”
He’d failed his test twice at this point but that didn’t matter.
“That’s uh…pretty fucked, man.”
Dean shrugs. “It is what it is. I’m just wall decor unless there’s football talk or she needs to prove to someone she was once liberal enough to fuck a black guy.” Levi chokes a little on the Gatorade he's drinking.
“Jesus.”
“Nah, his name is Rodney.”
“Do you see him ever?” Levi asks. Something about the genuine curiosity in his voice is so nice that Dean lets him get a first down.
“Ha!”
“Nah. He took off when I was like…4? 5? And then we lived with my grandparents for a bit, which was cool. My grandpa was fucking awesome. But he died when I was like, 9 and mom was already with Kenny at that point so I never felt like I could ask about my dad.”
“You ever wanna meet him?”
Usually people express some sort of false sympathy for him, but Levi is too focused on making passes Dean is letting slide.
“Oh I did. Last Christmas. We met at Waffle House. He asked me for money.”
“What?!” Levi pauses the game and stares at him. “Whatd you do?”
Dean shrugs. “I had like $50 on me so I uh…gave it to him.”
The tips of his ears burn with shame and he looks away, suddenly uncomfortable.
“Jesus I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean to like-Thats some tough shit, Deanie.”
Levi had been the first to call him that. Dean has been pretending for almost two and a half years that it didn’t make his heart race.
“It’s ok. Really. It sort of…I know now. It sucks but I can’t do a whole lot about it.”
Levi sighs. “Yeah but I shouldn’t have, like, forced you to tell me.”
“You didn’t.” Dean says easily. “It was actually nice to tell someone that.”
“Thomas.”
“Sanchez.”
“You’ve never told anyone that before?” No one’s eyes have any business looking that pretty when they’re sad. Especially Levi’s. Dean shrugs again, his voice a little lower.
“My mom doesn’t even know I met him. She’d just get pissed at me anyway so like…” he shrugs again. He feels Levi’s eyes on him and it makes his stomach tighten. “Do you wanna get back to the game or is therapy Levi still happening?”
“Stop being an asshole. That’s…so much, dude.”
“Yeah, a real winner runs through my DNA. Glad I kept his name.”
Levi groans. “You make me feel like a dick for being unhappy here.”
“You are a dick. Your mom lets you have video games and a whole basement that I’m guessing you decorated unless she’s a Kate Upton fan.”
Levi snorts. “I don’t entirely feel bad for you and your step dad’s fucking fortune and mansion.”
Dean doesn’t say anything because he knows Levi is right. “I dunno man, I’d give it all up for there to be bacon in the house.”
“What?!”
They keep talking as they play the game. Levi asks questions that are direct without prying. Dean tries to ask them back. He is shortly losing by 70 points. When the cowboys win, he does his best to demand a rematch, which, really, means he gets to keep talking to Levi.
“So-“ Levi says. “I think it’s only fair since you told me your secret, I'll tell you one of mine.”
Dean snorts. “This isn’t a friendship based on transactions you weirdo.”
“Right, yeah. Then I’m gonna be super narcissistic and make it about me.” Dean laughs at this and it’s his turn to pause the game.
“You uh, told me all that stuff because why?” Levi’s voice is different. Less confidence. Dean slowly realizes he’s nervous.
“I trust you.” Dean says, realizing he does as he says it.
“You do?”
“Should I not? Are you as shitty at keeping secrets as you are at realizing things?”
When Levi doesn’t laugh, Dean puts his controller down fully and turns to him. “Dude are you ok?”
“Yeah I uh-so what I told you before was a secret isn’t exactly secret it’s just…something I wanna ask about to see if it’s uh, normal.”
Something small and evil like a shred of hope crawls into Dean's stomach.
“Even if it’s not, Levi, I wouldnt you know, treat you differently for it.”
Levi scoffs again and Dean frowns. “What? I mean it. Have you ever known me to like, you know, judge people or whatever?”
Levi considers this and, as he strokes his thumb slowly up and down his index finger, his voice relaxes. “No. I guess I haven’t. You’re even nice to Dan-Danielle Stevens.”
Danielle was openly trans and braver than anyone else Dean knew.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“We live in Texas.”
“And I’m Black. And from Wisconsin.”
Levi laughs. “Two things I always say about you.”
Dean can’t help himself. “You talk about me a lot?”
He could be mistaken, but some of Levi’s freckles darken. “That’s not-do you want me to tell you the question or not?”
“Ask me the question, Leev.” Dean says, hoping he’s right.
Levi takes a breath. They’re facing each other on the couch now, controllers as abandoned as their math homework.
“I was just uh, you know, wondering if you-or if it’s normal or whatever... to think what it’d be like to you know…kiss another guy or something.”
All the blood leaves Dean’s upper body and rushes south.
“I think that’s normal.” Dean says, hoping he didn’t pause too long or answer too eagerly. “I mean it’s 2018, you know. Like all that gay shit is way more accepted so like, we see it more and maybe it sparks some inspiration or something.”
“Right. Ok. Yeah. Like when you see an ad for something a bunch of times and then you finally buy it. “
Dean laughs. “Yeah. Curiosity isn’t bad unless you’re a cat or like, a guy who defuses bombs.”
Levi laughs and moves a bit closer.
“Can I ask you one more thing?”
“You’re getting really close to your allotted time slot being up but I’ll see what I can do.”
“I hate you.” Levi says, his smile directed just at Dean is too much to handle.
“Have you ever thought about-”
Before Levi finishes, Dean closes the distance between them, stretching out on the couch and very carefully and purposefully placing his lips on Levi’s.
And its right. It’s so right Dean almost feels bad for being so ashamed of all the times he’s thought about it.
Levi pulls away just slightly and when his thumb comes up to trace Dean’s cheekbone, that evil shred of hope doubles in size.
They stay like that for an hour, getting bolder and more confident with each kiss, their hands firmly on each other’s. When his mom comes home with the smell of pizza lingering with her and calls down the stairs, they pull apart. Without speaking, Dean knows they’re not going to talk about it, but he can’t even bring himself to care-everything he’d been fantasizing about was so much better in practice. Even if Levi never wants to see him again-
“You wanna come over again tomorrow?” Levi says, clearing his throat. His hand covers Dean’s on the couch and gives him a squeeze.
Dean’s fate is sealed before he can even finish saying “Sure.”
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I think I’m gonna Forrealsies write a book or ~academic paper~ about my experience and continuing journey in learning to play the violin.
My story is one of tremendous potential, bad teaching, frustration, misunderstanding and misdiagnosis, and I see younger players facing issues EXACTLY like mine all. the. time. I see their teachers making the SAME mistakes that mine made with me, and I see the students suffering the same way I suffered, and it makes me so sad and upset.
The #1 Bad Thing that my old violin teacher from high school did to me was force me to play pieces that were way too hard for me - pieces that I just completely lacked the technique to play. She wanted me to play shit with entire passages of doublestops and octaves, shit with upbow stacatto and ricochet bowing, shit with artificial harmonics all up and through, shit that was lightning fast, all without EVER actually teaching me how to do any of it.
There was a more advanced student that I taught at my job - she was an 11th grader who wanted to go on to major in music. She was deeeefinitely good enough to get into any not-that-competitive music school, but I wanted her to be able to also stand a chance of getting into Peabody or even just UMD. So I drew up a tentative plan of pieces she could learn that would help her develop the skills that would allow her to be capable of something like that.
The piece I suggested she learn immediately was ~Czardas~. Czardas is basically a student piece that isn’t tooooo difficult, but introduces a lot of important advanced techniques. The techniques are given in small doses that allow a student to get comfortable with the basics before tackling something more complex. It’s got fast, slurred arpeggios, double stops of 3rds and 6ths, artificial harmonics, passages that are played only on the G string... it’s a GREAT piece to transition from more basic ~student~ repertoire, to more legit professional repertoire.
So, this student comes back to her lesson the next week and tells me that the orchestra teacher told her that Czardas was “too easy” for her, and to learn the Lalo concerto instead.
I honestly fucking laughed. I laughed and shook my head and said NO. WAY.
She had listened to the Lalo concerto, and really liked it and had been looking forward to learning it, so she was disappointed and confused by my reaction and asked why I didn’t think she could do it. I told her: “You can do it. Just not yet. You don’t have the prerequesite skills for it.” To demonstrate, I asked her to play a 3 octave D minor scale in 16th notes at 160bpm, ascending in a slurred upbow and descending in a slurred downbow, followed by major and minor arpeggios in triplets at the same tempo.
She could not do it. Obviously. Because she hasn’t been taught that skill yet.
So I told her: The Lalo is made up of like 90% fast, slurred D minor scales and arpeggios. If you try to learn this piece now, it is going to take you MANY TIMES LONGER to stumble through it than if you were to learn it after you’ve begun to master scales and arpeggios. You will waste time struggling to learn techniques in the context of a difficult piece when you instead should be learning them from good old fashioned scale exercises, etudes, and technical studies. The ONLY way I am going to bother teaching this to you now is if you, right now, begin an intensive regimen of technical study.
And since the orchestra teacher fucking INSISTED on the matter, I gave the student a list and step-by-step instructions of how she needs to practice scales in order be capable of learning the piece.
It was VERY slow going. But it was working. I required that she not even ATTEMPT to play the piece at a tempo she could not play the scales at. So, it was super under tempo, but it was in tune, and accurate.
There’s a particularly challenging part of the piece where the player has to quickly alternate between a high and low shifts. The low note is a D which is to be played on the G string in 3rd position. But since that’s Not Easy, the student asked me if she could use an open D instead. I told her, “Nope. It’s not meant to be an open D. You’ll just have to practice it. Don’t worry, I’ll show you how.” So I spent a few minutes teaching her how to break it down into tiny steps, and how to put those steps back together in her practice.
The next week, she comes to her lesson like: “[orchestra teacher] told me to use an open D.”
????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????
EXCUSE ME?????
WHY THE FUCK. WOULD SHE INSIST THAT YOU PLAY THIS PIECE IS TOO HARD FOR YOU AND ENCOURAGE YOU TO LEARN IT INCORRECTLY WHEN INSTEAD SHE COULD HAVE JUST LET YOU PLAY SOMETHING THAT IS ACTUALLY WITHIN YOUR REACH???
How the FUCK does it make sense to half-learn shit that is too difficult instead of actually-learning shit that is juuuuust difficult enough to require that the student learn new techniques, but still manageable enough that the student can actually play it perfectly??
It does not. make. sense. Yet almost every single teacher I have EVER had seems to think this is okay.
You know which teachers understand that that isn’t okay? The teachers of Hilary Hahn and Ray Chen and Soo-Been Lee and Julia Fischer and In Mo Yang and Yu-Chein Benny Tseng and every other player in the world who doesn’t fucking suck.
It’s not rocket science. It’s literally just “if you can’t play it right, then you haven’t learned it.” Which, I mean... fucking DUH!!!
I see masters and doctoral recitals where there is narry an in-tune note in sight, yet these students are still being awarded their degrees.
FOR WHY????
Don’t fucking perform the Tchaik concerto if you can’t play it in tune. Don’t perform the Bach chaccone if you can’t break the chords properly. What is the POINT in performing a piece if you’re just going to do it wrong?? What is the POINT of performing shit that’s too difficult for you?? I mean, jeez, if you aren’t going to actually teach a student how to break chords or play fast scales... DON’T MAKE THEM PLAY PIECES WITH CHORDS AND FAST SCALES.
It’s apalling and enraging and I really need for it to stop and I think one thing I can do about it is contribute something academic on the matter to the world of string pedagogy.
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Star Wars marathon semi-live-blog: Ep. V
So. Last night, I decided on a whim to rewatch every single Star Wars movie for the first time since I was seven this Christmas break. As I knew I’d have many things to say about this, I started messaging @marypoppinswasmyfatherbitches about my opinions and observations while watching Episode IV. She apparently thought they were amusing because she told me (several times, ily) that I should live blog, and i was already halfway through last time but wanted to do it, so I guess I’m doing so now. So, to everyone who questions why this entirely unnecessary liveblog of “The Empire Strikes Back” even exists...let’s just call it a Christmas gift for my ever-encouraging tumblr pal. (Is it a liveblog if you wait until the very end to post your collected thoughts? Nah? Maybe?)
Wow, I really was BABY when I saw this last. Literally, I was in second grade. I’m now just months from my high school graduation. What the heck? This is gonna seem so different than it did then...
I like the opening crawl way better sans weird capitalization.
I’m not sure why the tauntaun noises are such a mood, but they are.
17-year-old me is now remembering that 7-year-old me 100% had a baby crush on OG Trilogy Luke and I really don’t know how to feel about that. I guess I thought he was pretty...?
Peak romance: protracted gazes across a room.
“I can arrange that. You could USE a good kiss!” GOSH, THIS BICKERING IS PERFECTION. Again. Peak romance. I definitely was not able to appreciate that as a second grader but now it’s kind of the best.
HOW IS LUKE STILL CONSCIOUS IF HE’S BEEN UPSIDE DOWN FOR HOURS? Also this cave scene is lowkey incredibly tense for a few seconds.
I have no clue why but the way people fall over in these movies always cracks me up.
Snow planet makes me really freaking glad that I live in SoCal.
Chewbacca’s vocalizations sound like my Labrador’s and I’m not sure what to make of that information.
Literally everyone in this movie looks prettier in snow planet outfits.
The way that tauntaun falls over is an accurate representation of my AP chemistry grade after exams.
Is muttering the same phrases over and over a hypothermia symptom? Because I did not know that if it is, and if not, why the heck is Luke doing that?
“This is Rogue Two” *cries in Rogue One*
This tank thing is REALLY unfortunate. Leave the unconscious person half-naked in front of literally everyone, why don’t ya?
I probably missed something but I’m still not sure where the name “your worship” came from.
“Why you stuck-up, half-witted, scruffy-looking, nerf-herder!” Iconic for a reason.
Ewwwww that kiss is noooooo. (If they weren’t siblings though I would be dying @ his reaction)
I wanna know who sent Chewbacca on a stealth mission. I WANNA KNOW.
Seeing Han and Leia in this makes me wish the other series either had a central romance, or that the one they had was well-written, because it’s one of the best parts of the movie. See, guys? If it’s good, romance can actually enhance the plot of a movie that focuses on something else!
It’s driving me crazy that the AT-AT walkers remind me of some sort of animal but I can’t put my finger on which one.
“Someday, you’re going to be wrong, and I just hope I’m there to see it” is a very underrated line.
The fact that Leia’s immediate reaction to Han doing a stupid and dangerous thing is “you don’t have to do this to impress me!” is my favorite thing ever.
“You said you wanted to be around when I made a mistake...this could be it, sweetheart” -> great payoff of that line earlier. I love it when they circle back to old dialogue. Also adorable that Han remembered she’d said that. (Get you a guy who listens!)
I always feel so bad for droids because they have to be on the outside of the ship, exposed to such harsh conditions. I know they can’t feel things, but I still :(.
Ohp, R2 just gotta YEETED by that Loch Ness monster thing.
“Sorry, sweetheart, I haven’t got time for anything else.” -> she walked right into that one. ALSO. SMOOOOTH.
One of the few things I remembered from my initial watch as a little kid is that I was always freaked out by how you never saw anyone eat onscreen in these movies, to the extent that I wondered if people had to eat in space. (Idk, i was SEVEN.) but there’s an eating scene in this! Vindication for baby me!
I...did not remember Yoda having this much crackhead energy. At all.
The way Han looks at Leia when she calls him a scoundrel! I AM DECEASED
C3PO be out here ruining moments.
Yoda goes from crackhead to wise elder in approximately no seconds. We love.
On a scale of 1 to C3PO, how terrible are you in a crisis?
Worm thing is the stuff of nightmares.
96% sure I just saw a live iguana in the background of that scene. HI, FRIEND!
AND THERE WAS A MONITOR LIZARD! Friends! I love all of the reptile friends on Dagobah :)
This cave fight with the sonshadowing must have been absolutely insane to watch when this first came out.
Guys, i realized...Yoda’s combination of pithy sayings, crackhead energy, and anti-establishment ideals make him seem like a typical midcentury hippie. *writes essay about how Yoda is actually a metaphor for the 1960s countercultural movement*
If this ship levitating scene didn’t inspire your kid self try to use the Force to lift your parents’ car, did you even have a childhood?
R2’s little “REEEEEEE!” screams whenever he gets thrown bring me LIFE.
Okay, Han is enjoying stopping Lando from hitting on Leia WAY too much. (They both are...)
The forehead kiss! In the middle of a fight! PEAK ROMANCE(tm)
“One last kiss before i face certain death” is my absolute favorite and hi this is not okay with me :)
“I love you.” “I know.” I DIED. (@my 11th grade English teacher: I used parallel structure!)
I remember thinking the fight choreography with lightsabers in the last movie was really awkward and it’s WAY better here.
Do lightsabers cauterize the wounds they cause? It would make sense, since people who get stabbed or sliced by lightsabers never seem to bleed.
This falling sequence is the weirdest-looking thing in this movie.
The fact that Lando is the only person in this movie who pronounces “Han” with a short A rather than the long A that everyone else uses bugs me to no end.
I had completely forgotten how iconic this movie was. Off to watch the next one 👀👀
In my defense, I did say this was going to make no sense...
Until next time!
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you deserve better – h.styles
[warnings: a tiny bit of angst, maybe]
summary: in which harry is tired of seeing y/n being treated poorly by her current fling
word count: 1,288
masterlist
You never had the best luck when it came to love. In middle school, you were rejected twice... in the same year. In ninth grade, you dated an 11th grader and he ghosted you shortly after getting together. In 10th grade, you had a fling with a senior, he was your first love and first heartbreak. In 11th grade, you had your flings but all of them ended fairly quickly because boys always just seemed to treat you poorly.
Harry had been there with you through it all. Even though he was touring with the boys while you were still in school, his phone was always open and he was always there to give you advice. Harry had always advised you to stop dating "and wait until the right guy is ready." But you never took that advice. You continued to get into these relationships where guys refused to listen and respect you and sometimes you wish you had listened to Harry, especially this time around.
You were now six years out of high school and your love life slowed down a bit; you were focusing on your career which was one of the only things you could depend on. But even after all that time, you still couldn't seem to choose the right guy.
You, Harry, and a couple friends decided to go visit an amusement park while Harry was taking a break from all the touring. Amongst you all was your most recent fling, a guy named Adrian. You met him through a mutual friend and he seemed super sweet and into you at the start. He quickly began growing distant after a few dates. In public, he put a lot of space in between the two of you and you honestly felt like you were less than friends. When it came to his girl friends, he would always show them attention and be beyond friendly. And despite all his consoling and telling you that it takes him a while to warm up, you felt extremely insecure. You had been in a situation similar to this before; your first love was another guy who seemed to be ashamed of you and it was a feeling that you hoped you would never have to feel again but here you are.
Harry knows of the situation, he's your best friend so of course, he knows. And while you guys are at the amusement park, he spent close attention to how you and Adrian acted around each other. You stayed around the girls mostly but when you group decided you wanted to go on the huge swings that gave you a view of the whole park, you asked Adrian if he wanted to go with you.
"Sure," He shrugged.
"You don't have to if you don't want," You told him after hearing his unenthusiastic response.
"No, it's fine."
You nodded and went back to the girls, trying to join their conversation again. You decided not to look too deep into the situation with Adrian, not wanting to mess up your mood because you like to overthink.
When you arrived at the swings, Adrian was ahead of you and you followed loosely behind him. When you sat, you realized you couldn't bring your backpack on the ride. You quickly stood up and dropped your bag off and ran back to your seat. While sitting down you hit your lady parts on the middle of the seat (the part that separated your thighs). You let the pain subside before turning to the man next to, expecting some type of worry.
Once he noticed your stare, he came out of whatever la la land he was in, "What?"
You shook your head, not wanting to explain yourself and portray yourself to be as desperate as you genuinely are. You looked back at Harry, who has seated two rows behind you.
"Are you alright?" He mouthed and you nodded and gave him a thumbs up with a fake smile before turning back around.
You sighed and just looked forward as the ride started. You ignored Adrian's quarrels over his phone almost falling out his pocket. As the swings descended, you looked over at him and for some reason, you couldn't stay mad at him, especially over something that seemed so trivial.
Your heart raced fast when you decided to request what you were going to request, praying and hoping you wouldn't get rejected. "Can I?" You started then pointed to your puckered lips.
"In front of everybody?" He chuckled and looked around.
You nodded, "You're right." When the ride was over, you quickly went to get your bag and exited, keeping your head down.
"Y/N, you alrigh', Bub?" You heard Harry whisper as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder.
"Just wanna go home," You nodded. You couldn't really say you were hurt. You didn't feel some the tightness in your chest and your stomach didn't ache. You were just annoyed and you could feel a headache coming on but that was probably because of all the rides you had been on.
Harry nodded and you both stopped and waited for the group to catch up. "Y/N's not feeling too well, rollercoasters give her bad migraines, so we're gonna head home," Harry told the group, making them frown but they understand. Adrian gave a small wave once you turned to leave and that was enough to make you roll your eyes at him.
You and Harry were halfway through the three-hour car ride when you finally spoke up, "How'd you know I had a headache?"
"We've been best friends since we were 11, we've gone to the amusement park more times than I can count; I know you're a lightweight," He chuckled. "And we also needed an excuse t' get you away from tha' prick. I saw."
You nodded and looked out the window, not really wanting to talk about it. It was silent for the rest of the ride and once you arrived at your house, you were ready to thank Harry and go take a nap.
"You've never been one to take advice, especially my advice," Harry spoke up.
"What are you talking' about?" You sighed, already knowing that you were in for a lecture.
"You know what I'm talking about, Bub. You're just hardheaded and it really sucks. It sucks that you keep getting hurt and I'm your shoulder to lean on whenever you do. Don't wanna be that shoulder anymo'," Harry shook his head.
Your heart clenched and you looked up at him with tears in your eyes. You were hoping and praying that Harry, your best friend of 13 years, wasn't trying to leave you, too. You were hoping he wasn't going to be your second heartbreak.
"I always told you to stop dating and wait until the right guy is ready. And I'm ready now, Y/N. You deserve better and I am better, I hope you can see that."
Your eyes widened in disbelief and the tears that sat in the corners of your eyes disappeared.
"H, you really need to work on your delivery. Thought you were gonna leave me," You let out a huff and scratched the back of your neck nervously. "Never knew you liked me like that, H."
"Well, now ya know," He let out a shaky laugh. "'ve always felt this way just was never ready for you. You deserved someone mature and stable and I was jus’ waiting until I was what you deserved. Of course, I'll never be enough, but I'll try my hardest every day to make ya happy. Would never hurt your heart, forget about breaking it. Just wanna love you."
"Just wanna be loved."
[AN: okay, so the first half of this is garb but I really like the ending. let me know what you guys think ???]
#harry styles#harry styles imagine#harry styles oneshot#one direction#harry styles angst#harry styles fluff#harry styles imagines#stylesluxx
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Ever Since We Met [SF9 Dawon AU]
Man I’m a sucker for cheesy one shots. @fyeah-bubblekey this ones for you :3
Text Key:
[ sample ]: author notes
SAMPLE: Your thoughts
SAMPLE: Dawons Thoughts
SAMPLE: Same thought at same time
———————————
Ever Since We Met [Based off the song Nearly Witches by Panic! At the Disco]
Song for reference (Live ver. 2011)
Song for reference (Org, with lyrics)
Dear lord I hate school. 5 tests, 3 essays, and a presentation in 3 weeks?
It was the beginning of the second semester of your 11th year in high school [secondary school?]. This was the most important year of your education. The year where all your grades and extracurricular actually mean something. Everything seemed to fall on top of you at once. If you had it your way, you would have dropped out and gone to performance school. But your parents would never allow that. So you dragged your ass out of bed into Hell. You didn’t care for much. But you only cared about one thing. Cheesy as it is, the school's music program is the only reason why you even try; your parents wouldn’t let you be in the music program if your grades were awful. You were the president of the program, you sang, danced and played both the clarinet and guitar.
The best part about this program was not just the fact it wasn’t a boring classical orchestral highschool band, but that it was a versatile program, where there were guitarists, drummers, bass players, singers, and dancers. It was to focus on different styles while promoting individuality and unity. Most students played more than one instrument and everyone was like a family.
You enjoyed adding new people to the program each year. But when your director said that there was a new singer who transferred in, you felt nervous yet excited. Since the seniors graduated last year, the program lacked any singers, and while you were amazing, it wasn’t your focus as was dance and guitar.
“Lee Sanghyuk is his real name but prefers to be called Dawon, I believe,” said your teacher. “He’s a singer and dancer, doesn’t play any instruments.” Wow, so I have a bit of competition now? “It’s your responsibility as president to introduce him to the program. I expect you to make an announcement to all three music class periods. And I believe he’s joining your class. Make sure you update on our set list for the concert in a month. I haven’t handed out the parts yet, but I heard the kid sing.” You relaxed at his expression. He seemed excited by it. “He’s one of the best I heard since our last male singer graduated.”
You took a look at the setlist. 2 general orchestral pieces and 1 instrumental alternative piece for the high school, 1 indie for the 8th graders, 2 combined 6th and 7th-grade pieces, few jazz ensemble pieces and a drum line piece. With a dance performance put in, the concert would run about an hour and a half.
“Nearly Witches? Isn’t that a Panic! At the Disco piece? For the high school” You asked. “Indeed it is. It’s the last song on the piece. It’s probably going to be a duo.”
Oh no. Your the only female singer right now and you haven’t even heard the new kid yet. “I know what you’re thinking y/n, and don’t worry, your voices match each other.” The bell rang, meaning you had to go to your last class. “Good luck kiddo, you can do it!” You loved your teacher. He was almost like a second parent.
Next Day:
You came to school early so you could run to the music room and meet the new kid. As you walked in your heart skipped a beat.
Oh god he’s hot. Almost tripping over the instrument cable damn 8th graders you walked into the office. You were trying hard to keep your composure. He had soft black hard and beautiful brown eyes, was a little taller than you were, though you were in heels. He had a smile that was so bright you thought you needed sunglasses. Your teacher read your mind and started giggling as he instructed you to sit.
Okay, professionalism. You gotta know the kid for the benefit of the program.
“Hi I’m Sanghyuk, but you could call me Dawon!” His voice was bright and I feel like he's comedic and outgoing. “Hi Dawon! I’m Y/N, the president. I heard you’re a vocalist? I know this is fast but we have a concert in about a month. Do you have a free period so we can discuss?” I’m talking so fast oh god. I hope he doesn’t notice I’m staring.
“Uh, I think 4th period?” You saw his schedule. I share 4 classes including free period. This should be fun.
“Do you dance Dawon? After school on Thursdays we have a dance class. We do stuff from hip hop to alternative and traditional. I can introduce you to the Dance team leader for you.”
“I actually love dancing, I’ll take you up on that offer.” Does she know that I’m really fuckin nervous.
“I think you’re gonna be a great addition to the program Dawon!” said your teacher, noticing the slight tension.
The bell rang, and the first music class came in. The three music classes were the two highschool and the one middle school. The first was High school A. Your friends Taeyang, Zuho and Rowoon walk in. They greet you and Dawon; Taeyang walks by and whispers in your ear “he’s cute, I approve.” and you hit him playfully. “Dawon, I’d like you to meet the dance team leader and the most awful best friend in the world. Taeyang, we have a new member for Dance.”
He took one look at Dawon. “Like I said, I approve. Talk to me after school newbie.”
“Well I wouldn’t bet on it, I have about 100 other things I gotta do, you gotta prove to be a priority!” I hope she found that comment funny or I’m gonna launch myself out the window. Oh my god and he’s comedic. Please don’t let me fall for this boy. You, Taeyang, Rowoon and Zuho are laughing. Thank god.
As the class settles in, you walk in and introduce him to the group. Everyone muttered in delight; another singer. He shot finger guns at everyone when you described him, and everyone giggled. Oh boy a class clown. Everyones gonna love him.
Throughout the day, you led him through the school. You two seemed to bond on your mutual hatred for the stupid amount of work you have as 11th graders. “5 test and 2 essays??” “And a presentation!” “How are you alive at this school?” How do i tell him that this music program is the reason why I even try. “I mean, I have music I guess, its my passion.” Oh my god she’s amazing. I can’t believe I met someone who loves music this much. He seems to love music as well. This might be fun.
During your free period, which you previously shared with only Zuho, you two helped Dawon catch up with music stuff. “Our teacher said he wants you and I to sing this song as a duet for the concert.” Nearly Witches by Panic! At the Disco? You both looked at the lyrics while Zuho sat at the table doing his homework. “Ever since we met, I only shoot up with your perfume, Its the only thing, that makes me feel as good as you do” oh god I hope the blushing isn’t noticeable.
“Okay so the lyrics are a little... lovey... Its strictly professional though. Lets spend the next few minutes splitting up the parts and listening to the song.” My teacher is really trying to set me up with this kid isn’t he. You text Taeyang the song lyrics and he responds with the heart eyes and laughing emoji and you send back the middle finger one.
“We’re having the whole group sing the first part in french. Seeing that you seem to have a funny bone in you, you can take the ‘Here I am, composing a burlesque part’“ She thinks I’m funny??
“You can sing the first verse, I’ll take the second verse following the burlesque line. You can sing the pre-chorus, we can sing the chorus together.”
He knows what he’s doing oh wow.
The lunch bell rang. Soon after was the music class. After everyones part was handed out, you two went into the practice room to sing vocals while the rest of the group practiced their part.
The practice room was a bit on the smaller side; 1 speaker and a music stand.
“Alright lets get this shit done Dawon.”
“Don’t you mean... lets get this shit Done...won...” That was the dumbest joke I’ve made oh lord- ShES LAUGHING?”
You gave a disapproving laughter at his pun. God he’s cute. ok ok ok focus...
The next 30 minutes were spent singing the parts following the song as it was playing.
As class ended, you realized he wrote his number on the back of your sheet music with a note. “You know, we might be partners, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.” I hope that wasn’t too much. HIS NUMBER OH LORD. I hope this works out...
______________
You two spent the next two weeks bonding over whatever. You two got along really well. You had a mutual love for dancing. He’s such a good dancer. You found out that it’s been his dream to be a performer/singer. This only made you love him more.
He became everyone's favorite joker, the teachers loved him because he did his work, the students loved him because he made funny, snarky comments about people. Basically he opened up real quick to everyone and fit in right away.
The best part was during rehearsals. There was a part in the song where the right way to sing the line is in a prissy valley girl accent and every time he does it, the entire class erupts in laughter and you feel yourself falling for him even more. At this point it became a full blown crush on this dude. And during dance practice, Taeyang made sure that you two were close together (he knows all).
He hung out with your general group of friends a lot. I hope she likes me back at some point. I’ve never felt this way about someone before. You noticed how whenever he’s around you he pulls out really bad puns and jokingly flirts with you. Rowoon keeps telling you that he thinks he likes you, but you deny it.
“The song is strictly professionalism.”
The day of the concert was getting closer and closer. You two were told that because it was the last song on the show that you two had to put on a performance. Performance? Its a love song and we’re making it a duet. This could be my chance to pull something. I can’t perform that well, I can show emotion but putting on an act?
The day before the concert you had a sound check/dress rehearsal. This was the time to practice with the amount of space.
“Okay so the beginning is us turned around facing the ensemble. As the song goes into the guitars, we turn around and start dancing. It’ll be mild impromptu.” you explain.
“How should I do my valley girl accent?” he asked everyone, but directed towards you. He starts reenacting that part several times with different poses and accents until the whole group including the teacher is laughing uncontrollably. Dear lord I love him. Your heart rushed with happiness and affection as you told him “Whatever you like. Every time I make her laugh, the happier I feel and the more love I feel for her.
THE DAY OF THE CONCERT:
You were wearing a short blue dress, white necklace, light make up and your hair falling to your sides. Dawon was wearing a short sleeved blue collared shirt and black jeans, with faux glasses and he hair straightened. Wow. She/He’s hot.
The songs passed, one by one, each group walked off stage and you stood by the door praising everyone. The dance performance came. You couldn’t perform as you requested not to; it was a particularly difficult song and you wanted to watch your boys. Taeyang, Zuho, Rowoon, Dawon as well as Inseong, Jaeyoon, Hwiyoung, Chani and Youngbin all performed a self choreographed and produced song called K.O. At Dawons part you couldn’t stop staring at him. God he’s so good. Is she watching. I hope shes watching. She better be watching, I’m using all of my energy.
As the song ended, you greeted them with hugs as the audience and students cheered. The dance performances usually got the most response.
Soon it was time for the duet. Usually you were nervous, but this time, with Dawon, you felt at ease.
The whole group walked onto the stage. Here we go.
“My wing tips waltz across naive wood floors.
They creak innocently down the stairs.” You start.
Dawons part came up. Oh boy.
“HERE I AM, COMPOSING A BURLESQUE, OUT OF WHERE THEY REST THEIR NECKS” Dawon did a 360 degree turn, jumped off the stage, sassily stood with his arm up and hand facing down, his eyes closed and in the most high pitch voice sang with his heart. The audience loved it. You loved it. You loved him.
You two sung through the whole song, but what confused you was that he walked by Taeyang and grabbed something and hid it behind him halfway through, but you didn’t pay much attention to it.
You two sang the last part together. Waltzing on stage, pretending to be lovers.
“And my one regret is you~~” which was repeated about 4 times.
The last time you two sang that line, he turned around, pulled out something which made the audience gasp and aww. Then turned to you. Here goes nothing.
“And my one regret is you.” A FLOWER!
As he handed you the flower, you almost in tears, him with a goofy smile and on one knee, the song ends. This is a dream. She accepted it! The whole audience and ensemble is cheering.
You two walk out on stage, flower in one hand, your other hand holding his, and bow down.
After the concert, you two walk back to the music room. As you two pack up your things, as well as in the post concert commotion, he throws the question. At this point it’s just you two alone in the instrument closet.
“So, Y/N... do you, maybe wanna go out some time?” please say yes please say yes.
Truly a dream come true oh my god oh my god!
You kiss his cheek. “Does that answer that for you?”
To break the tension he replys in a sarcastic voice, “No actually it doesn’t!”
“Yes of course I’ll go out with you you big goof.”
He kisses your cheek just as the rest of you friends look through the window. Rowoon walks in shouting.
“HEY LOVE BIRDS WE’RE GONNA GO CELEBRATE AT THAT ONE BOUGIE RESTAURANT DOWNTOWN, CARE TO JOIN OR ARE Y’ALL GONNA FUCK?”
Dawon starts laughing and you hit Rowoon with a music stand, but agree to go.
The music program truly was the one thing that made you happy.
#sf9#youngbin#inseong#jaeyoon#dawon#rowoon#zuho#taeyang#hwiyoung#chani#sf9 highschool#sf9 dawon au#panic! at the disco#kpop au#kpop scenario#sf9 dawon x reader
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I need the story of the Underground Shakespearian Ring
Okay, so the school I went to for 9th grade had this really bizarre grading setup that I still don’t understand- for some reason, instead of the teachers writing up and grading tests and exams and the like, all the work was sent to an unknown third party for them to grade??? It made no sense.
Now, for the most part, the school had decent teachers, and they would just teach the curriculum correctly and then you wouldn’t run into problems with the grading. My English teacher was not one of those teachers.
So like, she hated me pretty early on- she was my homeroom teacher and thought it was disrespectful that I slept in homeroom in the mornings (I was on sleeping pills and they never wore off completely until around 10am), I never had the vocab homework in on time (someone kept breaking into my locker and stealing my vocab books I had to buy a new one like five times), she thought it was “inherently pessimistic and stuck up” when she caught me reading a book called ‘Ninth Grade Slays’ (it was about vampires, not her?), and during our Greek Mythology unit I kept correcting her about the name pronunciations of the gods (she pronounced Hephaestus as Hepatitis one time holy shit).
Anyway, her feelings on me aside, her teaching skills were shoddy at best. But I had had way worse teachers, so had the rest of the class, and Greek myths are pretty straight-up in what’s going on, so no one really had trouble with the third-party tests.
Then we get to the Romeo and Juliet unit.
Now, fun fact: Shakespeare has always come pretty easily to me. Like, to the point where I sometimes forget/fail to understand that other people have an incredibly hard time translating his works. (I told this whole story to my friends in the school I went to for 10th/11th/12th grade and when the drama department put on ‘Midsummers Night Dream’ one year, more than half the cast tried to get me to translate their scripts and monologues for them lmao).
So, anyway, I’m just a girl, reading Romeo and Juliet and digging how it’s going…and then the teacher starts ‘translating’ it.
Um.
I cannot sift through all the bullshit this woman was spewing, but let’s just say that my favorite part is during Romeo’s spew about Rosaline, there’s one part where he says something like ‘with cupid’s arrow/she hath diane’s will’, and the teacher was taking this to mean Rosaline was a Super Lesbian who was breaking the law or something and running away with her lover Diane, which would be a rad storyline, sure, but like…I’m just raising my hand like “Um Ma’am, Diana is the Roman goddess of chastity. What Romeo meant is that she told him she’s sworn off love and is probably becoming a nun?” and this woman just got. So angry. Like, excuse me, you are a student, you’re here to learn, so you clearly don’t know anything about this (I read Romeo and Juliet for the first time in like preschool whoops). Anyway, she continues on making up her own plot to the play, and I…well I was basically Hermione Fucking Granger at this point I couldn’t just sit there and listen to someone be this wrong about something omfg??? She just got angrier and angrier and stopped calling on me after a while.
So for a couple lessons I’m just left to seethe quietly, but one day after class this girl I knew since grade school came up to me and was like “Could you…? Tell me what the hell we’re supposed to be learning?” and I didn’t even like her but I liked the validation of being someone’s Chosen Teacher so I wrote out a summary for her of everything we had covered so far so she could actually write a comprehendible essay for our homework that night.
But THEN the during the class when we got our essays back, she made a HUGE DEAL, like ‘oh Molly, it wasn’t bad enough that you’ve been failing this course material, now you have to drag your friends into it by trying to re-write the play?’ (l m a o). Like this bitch had literally tried to fight me on ‘Paris is the guy Juliet’s father wants her to marry’ and she didn’t even put a grade on my essay where I said the play only ended in tragedy because of how young and naïve the kids were, that if they had taken a breather and thought things through it probably would’ve been fine (it was a damn good essay and I stand by it). But anyway, she’s trying to make me out to my classmate’s as someone who’s trying to sabotage their education for laughs.
This backfired on her.
See, it dawned on people one by one, that she was only teaching the wrong material -> so they wouldn’t know the right material -> so when they eventually would take the exams they would only have her crazy answers -> which the third party graders wouldn’t know about -> everyone fails this course that’s like half the overall grade of the year.
Most students consider that a problem.
So suddenly the class has decided I’m the fucking Shakespeare Whisperer or something, and one by one start begging me for help. At first I was confused, because as I said, it’s so easy for me that I didn’t realize literally the entire class was lost out of their asses here. omfg. So I was really getting hassled here but I didn’t want my entire class to fail you know???? So I started meeting with people during study halls or texting them after school so they knew what was going on. And then they started telling people in this teacher’s other classes, including upperclassmen who were lost as fuck, so this was quickly spiraling out of control on my end, but overall people were really starting to understand the plays better!! So I was feeling really great.
But then, the teacher noticed that none of the homework getting handed in to her matched up with her crazy translations, and knew I was the sole person to blame (naturally). She literally tried to get me suspended over this, she went to the school’s disciplinarian!
Note: This guy, Mr. C, knew I was a God damn angel- my science class was off the charts, inappropriately awful, so every time one of our science teacher’s wanted to give the entire class detention, instead of calling Mr. C up to the class room as was the rule, they’d send me down to get him so he’d know to write up every student except for me. So when my English teacher dragged me in there he was looking her like “What on Earth could this girl have possibly done to piss you off?” 😂😂
And when she explained he looked at her for a very long moment, glanced at me with a signature ‘Office’ Reaction Face™ , turned back to her and was like “You want her suspended…for starting a study group?” and I was CHOKING.
So that really pissed her off and they started fighting and this was a very overworked and Done man so at some point he gave up and was like “I’m not suspending her but fine we can put a ban on the study group if you leave my office” omfg. So all the other students get notified and now they’re back to freaking out about the upcoming exams.
So like two days later, I’m at lunch, complaining about this to one of my friends who had a different English teacher and thus no problem, and I’m on this whole angry rant (Because I’m pissed, a bunch of kid’s grades are gonna get fucked up because of this! They just wanted to do well! I just wanted to help them!) and my friends staring at me quietly the whole time and when I finish I’m like “What?” and she’s just like “…Molly did you literally start up Dumbledore’s Army in our fucking school?” and I died on scene.
But then I started thinking about the comparison and I was like? You know fucking what? If Harry Potter can get those kids to pass their fucking DADA test I can help kids pass their fucking English Exam. Bring it the fuck on, Umbridge.
So I started Spreading The Word that anyone who needs help with their Shakespeare course can still get help, we just all need to meet up once to hash out the details. After some back and forth notes and deliberations, we ended up meeting in the school library, which was hilarious for a few reasons:
1) It was directly across the hall from this teacher’s classroom.
2) It was actually a converted janitors closet, way smaller than all the other classrooms, and there were like 50 people shoved in there; Not exactly an ideal Room of Requirement
3) The library carried no Shakespeare texts, but had the entire Harry Potter series on display to see when you first walked in
But anyway, despite the fact that we were literally three feet away from her door while we were doing this, our teacher was none the wiser of the meeting. We worked out a game plan- everyone writes out bullshit essays that align with what the teacher’s expecting. After she grades those and gives them back, they get them to me- slipping them in my locker, handing it to me discreetly in the halls or in another class, what have you. I then try to power through the dizzying amount of confusion radiating out of the teacher’s mouth and onto these papers, and more or less write out better translation of what was going on in whatever scene they covered, what the highlights they needed to know were, stuff like that, and then slip it back to them in similar discreet fashion (so the teacher/disciplinarian wouldn’t see me and get suspicious ; also because I was like 15 and wanted to feel like a super cool secret agent). They would then keep my copies and use them as study guides for the upcoming exams, where they would then answer all the questions correctly, the way the third party graders would mark correctly, and pass the exams + the bullshit essays would get them high marks in the teacher’s homework grades. The teacher never caught on to what was happening, just thought her students finally started paying attention to her.
All in all, it was a complicated mess, but it fucking worked. I don’t think anyone failed their exams that year. Will I ever be cooler? No. I think I fucking peaked when I was 15.
#True Story#shakespeare#lmao#I hope this is like...literate I'm pretty tired right now lol#asks#molly mumbles
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Out And About
Member/Pairing: Jimin x Taehyung/VMin
Genre: Pierced! Jimin AU; Nerd Brother! Taehyung AU; High School! AU; MxM
Word Count: 1.6K
Triggers/Warnings: Cursing
Author Note: A while ago I wanted to write a Pierced! Jimin AU because well...do I need to say more? I also wanted to try some new stuff on this blog so here’s my gay mxm debut. Hope y’all enjoy~
“...Anyway, he failed me because I didn’t write the paper so, now I have detention.”
“I fucking told you that guy was an asshole when you signed up for his class. ‘Wholesome, educational environment’ my ass... You’re still coming tonight though, right?”
Jimin was seated on top of the blue lunch tables of the cafeteria, back curved as he looked down at Yumi who was seated on the bench in front of him, stuffing her face with a ham and cheese sandwich from the deli.
“I planned on it,” she said before swallowing her bite, quickly leaning back down to take another one, “but I don’t know. I’m not going to screw myself over and fail his class and have to retake it next year, so...I kind of need to go so I can make up the paper, you feel?”
“I get you, ” he trailed off. Easily distracted, Jimin’s eyes roamed the seemingly endless flocks of students crowded in the food court, a look somewhere between disgust and interest plastered across his face. Only when he saw a girl coming out with a slice of pizza did he remember he had been starving all day.
“Let me get a bite,” Jimin said as he reached down toward Yumi’s sandwich and, in turn, got his hand swatted at.
“Go get your own food, loser.”
As his lips turned up into a smirk, the sun shined down directly onto his face, making his nose ring glisten in the spring daylight.
“Fuck you,” he said, jumping down from the table and picking up his backpack.
“No, thanks. I don’t like little girls.”
“Ha ha, very funny.” After grabbing his drink, Jimin began walking away from the table, slipping his sunglasses onto his face as if he was some kind of pop star. “Aye!”
Yumi looked up from her sandwich and closed her mouth, which was preparing to take another bite. “What?”
“Did you ever get around to asking your brother if he wanted to come with us?”
A few weeks ago when the idea of throwing a party first came up, Jimin had suggested that Yumi ask her little brother to come along, too.
Taehyung.
The class nerd that had straight A’s, played tennis, and read books for fun.
“Taehyung? Kim Taehyung? The 11th grader? My little brother? Why would you want him to come hang with us,” Yumi asked in complete shock the day Jimin asked her about it.
Yumi’s friends, quite obviously, were not the straight A type. More like...straight C’s and D’s...and the occasional B from Jun or Yumi in subjects that a 6th grader could pass.
“I don’t know,” Jimin had said while he laid in the grass field of the park him and Yumi frequented, “we never invite him to go anywhere with us and every time I come over to your place, he’s always in his room studying something… Seems kinda boring, don’t you think?”
Yumi, who was lying down next to him, feet toward his head (she had kicked him in the face a few times “on accident”), sat up at his statement. A look of confusion and disbelief was on her face as she thought about what her best friend had just told her.
“Bro. Did you like...smoke or something before coming here? What you’re saying doesnt even make any sense. First of all, you hated my brother when you first met him in middle school and once we became friends you still picked on him. Now, all of sudden, you feel sorry for the dude? What the fuck Jimin.”
“Look,” he shouted and then huffed in frustration before continuing. “I’m not saying he’s my best friend. I’m just saying. It wouldn’t kill you to just ask him. All I want you to do is ask, okay? Jesus Christ.”
Squinting her eyes at him suspiciously, Yumi only shrugged and replied with a simple “Okay.”
“Yeah, I asked him,” she turned around and placed one leg on each side of the lunch bench and faced Jimin. “He said no.”
“Oh… Uh, okay cool. Later. You better come tonight.”
“Worry about yourself, Chim Chim.” As a reply, Jimin simply put up a peace sign as he walked away.
“Yumi!”
“What do you want, Tae? I’m kind of busy.” Yumi rummaged through her drawers as she searched for something to wear, throwing clothes all over her room.
“Have you seen my highlighters? ...And can you like, not change in front of me, please,” Taehyung said as he covered his glasses.
“No, I havent and calm down I have a bra on. Just turn around if it bothers you so much.”
“Ugh, okay. Thanks,” he said as he turned around to leave.
In the middle of tying her shoelaces, Yumi received a message.
Hey, sorry but i cant make it 2nite. stomach ache
From: The Dork™, 10:09 PM
“Hey, Tae! Come lock the door, I’ll be back later. Make sure you eat something besides graph paper and science textbooks,” she yelled up at Taehyung’s room before walking out.
Uh...why aren’t you coming?
From: Yumi , 10:26 PM
Damn r u blind or something? s t o m a c h a c h e
From: The Dork ™ , 10:28 PM
I saw the “stomach ache” but that’s bs and u know it
From: Yumi, 10:29 PM
so y dont u wanna go dude?
From: Yumi, 10:29 PM
idk just not feelin it
From: The Dork™ , 10:31 PM
K well I’ll drink a beer for u
From: Yumi , 10:33 PM
hav fun brooooo!1!!!!!!1111!!1!1
From: The Dork™ , 10:34 PM
-_-
From: Yumi , 10:35 PM
“Did you see Min when he tried to walk on water and almost drowned in the pool?” Yumi laughed when she pictured the look on his face once he got out. Fumbling with her keys she made her way upstairs, plopping down on her bed as soon as she could.
“I know!! It was crazy… Well, I’m gonna go grab some food. I might call you later tonight.” She nodded and hung the phone up, rubbing her belly while it grumbled.
Despite almost tripping three times while going downstairs, Yumi successfully made herself a gourmet meal called cereal. As she ate at the dining table, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a pair of black boots that looked awfully familiar to Jimin’s. Same color and everything.
Hm. That’s weird.
Maybe he left them here last time he came, Yumi thought to herself. Placing her bowl in the kitchen sink, she began her retreat back up the stairs where she nearly face planted only once.
When u were here last week did u leave ur black boots?
From: Yumi , 3:29 AM
Opting to read his reply in the morning versus waiting for it, she locked her phone and threw it on the computer chair to the left of her. Just as she was about to fall asleep, eyes closed and snuggled up to her pillow, Yumi heard giggling coming from the room next door to her.
Taehyung’s room.
Tae, your cartoons seriously aren’t that funny shut the hell up and go to sleep, she mumbled to herself as she turned over and grabbed her blanket to cover her ears.
Rather than getting up the first time, Yumi decided to give him a chance to knock it off himself. The first time she didn’t say anything. The second time she didn’t say anything.
However, the third time… The third time she couldn’t help but growl in frustration as she sat up, pulled the blanket off of her, and made her way across the hall to her brother’s door. Without knocking, Yumi stormed into his room.
“Kim Taehyung! It’s like 4 o’clock in the fuc-”
She couldn’t tell if she was hallucinating at the moment, but she was positive she saw Taehyung, her little brother, and Jimin, her best friend, cuddling with each other on Taehyung’s bed.
“I… Am I insane or…”
Both Jimin and Taehyung looked beyond shocked as they stared wide-eyed at Yumi standing in the doorway, looking equally as shocked, if not more.
“Uh,” started Jimin as he cleared his throat and sat up in Taehyung’s bed, “well...you’re not insane…”
“Wait, wait, wait. You two are… You and him are… YOU DITCHED ME TONIGHT FOR HIM?!”
“Yeah… Sorry about that I would’ve told you b-”
“I can’t believe you guys kept this from me. How long has this even been going on,” Yumi asked, shifting the weight on her feet and crossing her arms over her chest.
“About six months, right,” Taehyung answered as he looked at Jimin, who was fiddling with the jewelry hanging from his lip (a nervous habit of his), for confirmation.
Scoffing at the situation and her own cluelessness, Yumi was still thoroughly speechless. For a few awkward, silent minutes, no one said anything. Taehyung and Jimin couldn’t help but stare at Yumi, who was clearing trying to make sense of the situation as she furrowed her eyebrows and bites at her nails while staring at the ground.
Her sigh is what breaks the thick, silent air.
“Look, I just came in here to tell you to shut up but, obviously, this,” she motioned toward Jimin and Taehyung, “wasn’t what I was expecting.”
“Yumi, we can expl-”
“First, there’s nothing to explain. The situation is pretty clear since most guys don’t hold hands and cuddle in each other’s bed unless there’s something going on. Second, your relationship doesn’t bother me, although I would’ve liked to know about it. I’m not mad at you,” she looks at Taehyung and then at Jimin, who she shoots a glare at, “...two.”
Yumi turned around to begin walking out of the room and stopped just before closing the door.
“And stop giggling so loud. Some people do enjoy sleeping,” she said and then closed the door after.
“...well, that d-”
“And good night, losers,” Yumi yelled across the hall before closing her bedroom door.
Masterlist | Requests: Open!
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I posted 2,015 times in 2021
18 posts created (1%)
1997 posts reblogged (99%)
For every post I created, I reblogged 110.9 posts.
I added 676 tags in 2021
#art - 255 posts
#star wars - 120 posts
#what are cats - 95 posts
#the mandalorian - 55 posts
#shirozora draws - 42 posts
#food - 29 posts
#oh my god - 25 posts
#star trek - 21 posts
#lotr - 18 posts
#tolkien - 16 posts
Longest Tag: 132 characters
#and 5 minutes in i knew i was in for a bad time and i fucking paid for a bad time and i am still having a bad time and i paid for it
My Top Posts in 2021
#5
I need someone to start following me around with a stick and bonking me on the head whenever I launch into a tirade about how much TLJ fucking sucked because that is energy I can use on literally anything else I cannot keep going on and on about that fucking movie and the entire ST for 20+ minutes every time I’m reminded that people actually think it’s good don’t fucking @ me I don’t care I don’t fucking care i don’t
3 notes • Posted 2021-02-28 07:48:15 GMT
#4
If I'm being real, I'm always fearful of giving an actual Opinion on Fandom because whenever I do, I stick my foot all the way down my throat and look like a total ass. Been this way ever since I called out some yt people in my high school class for wasting all of our goddamn time vehemently denying their passive racism to our Black teacher (was actually less of a callout and more of a "omigod will you people just shut the fuck UP"). Now why that was even a topic to discuss in class is a whole goddamn book and a half about the high school program for us 11th graders on race, class, sex/gender, etc.
So I always admire the people who don't mind calling shit out. But my god, one day I'm gonna fucking snap and burn down all the bridges and I'll be sorry but not really but kinda but also really not really.
3 notes • Posted 2021-12-06 18:23:52 GMT
#3
This is just wild to me.
There are a ton of ways to sort these stats, but the main one for me is Hits because, y'know, how many times did a fic get looked at? How many times did a reader engage with this work? How many clicks? And for the longest time it was my one big Tronfic, followed by the MCU and Supernatural. All these older fandoms that I no longer really engage in. It's been unbelievably depressing to look at and a stark reminder that I was in a major slump for several years (if you go through my art tumblr's archive, you'll find all these huge gaps between posts and virtually no growth).
It took 8 months for 2 fics, one still a WIP, to take the top 2 spots in every stat that involves reader engagement. Like, the fuck? This is nuts. These numbers are nucking futs.
(And I can't even begin to explain what's been happening with my art like jfc jfc jfc jfc jfc jfc jfc)
Just you wait until I've been in a fandom long enough to start roasting bridges over problematic tropes and trends.
3 notes • Posted 2021-08-13 20:38:29 GMT
#2
*stares at previous fic output*
*stares at new fic output*
It... look like I’ll be doing with my Mandalorian fics what I could not do with my Tron fics or any other fics and that is to write a sequelfic exploring a (mostly) established relationship what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuckkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk
3 notes • Posted 2021-02-15 07:17:12 GMT
#1
I wrote a 30k Star Wars fic in less than 3 weeks and it wasn’t the Star Wars fic I thought I’d write (I didn’t think I’d write any Star Wars fic after the disaster that’s the ST) but I guess that’s what happens when the Mando Shows throws THAT curveball for their Season 2 finale.
3 notes • Posted 2021-01-14 08:35:13 GMT
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