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#and i know for a fact that as soon as the government stops fining people for throwing parties im going on a month long binge
diorsluv · 3 months
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feather , part 18
“ your signals are mixed ”
series m. list previous chapter next chapter
( socialmedia!au )
yourusername
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liked by luca.fantilli, dylanduke25, jackhughes, and 37,976 others
yourusername tell me that we’ll be just fine
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username15 FUCK IM SO CONFLICTED. THE TAYLOR REFERENCE BUT THIS POST IS HER AND BANK ROBBER
username67 wait ok but seeing her torn up like this is NOT okay
_alexturcotte oh no
lhughes_06 even when u lose ur mind?
→ yourusername tell me that it’s not my fault
username89 GODDDD the fact that luke knows the reference and finished it for her 💔
→ username27 fr it was luke NOT baxter ❌
username23 she and luke need to be together i’m begging
trevorzegras TAYLOR SWIFT
→ yourusername mama taylor 🫡
username58 i don’t like this booker guy and for good reason, like he can’t be out here breaking my girl’s heart like this
username33 ok but luke has that missseraphina girl or whatever her @ is
adamfantilli the matching stitch costumes
jamie.drysdale ily and i’ll always support you but you know what i think and i think it’s time you take my advice
liked by yourusername
username9 lets talk abt how she only responded to two people and one of them was luke
edwards.73 you know we’re here for you
markestapa i’ll beat his ass i swear to god
username71 stop they’re so protective of her
mackie.samo say the word and we’ll be there
username45 tbh the insta drama is kind of embarrassing
username68 she’s not acting like herself and it’s all because of HIM
username34 idgaf what balthazar thinks he can get away with but ik it aint this
username8 fuck bjorn
yourusername
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liked by mackie.samo, colecaufield, _quinnhughes, and 88,117 others
yourusername finally posting the lakehouse pics i was gatekeeping for months 🫣🫣
tagged: jackhughes, trevorzegras, _quinnhughes
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dylanduke25 MARSHMALLOWS ROASTING ON AN OPEN FIREEEE
→ markestapa it’s chesnuts not marshmallows
→ dylanduke25 i know. 😐.
→ yourusername JACK FROST (hughes) NIPPING ATTTTTT YOUR LIPS
username46 are we just gonna pretend like that post from this morning never happened??
→ username59 if she does it, we do it
trevorzegras I MADE IT ON THE MAIN AGAIN!!!!
→ yourusername trev sweetie you gotta stop acting like i don’t post you constantly
username31 is that luke’s back or quinn’s back
→ yourusername it’s quinn!
colecaufield there’s no way you got QUINN to tan with you
→ _quinnhughes bro you were there when she took the pics
→ colecaufield oh was i??
→ _alexturcotte nah it was me rmb i’m the only one that’s seen her recently
→ colecaufield STOP RUBBING IT IN MY FACE
mackie.samo we never see you post yourself anymore 😔
→ yourusername i’m more focused on the scenery around me matthew.
→ mackie.samo OKAY OKAY u didn’t have to pull out the government name
→ markestapa she’s lying she just doesn’t have enough storage on her phone anymore
username26 that pic of jack and quinn i’m dyingggg
jackhughes remember when you burned 12 marshmallows in a row
→ yourusername remember when you said you were in love with me when you got drunk for the first time
→ jackhughes YO
→ _quinnhughes yeah how the hell do you burn that many marshmallows consecutively
lhughes_06 oh so am i just banned from all your posts now
→ yourusername 👎
username83 PLEASE I NEED MORE LAKEHOUSE POSTS
username15 didn’t quinn accidentally post jack trying to drown her on his public story once 😭
→ username2 WHAT.
next chapter notes ) a little tamer than the past few chapters, AND WE’RE GETTING RID OF BOOGER SOON SO LET’S CELEBRATE
tags: @aliaology @hockeyboysarehot @absolutelyhugh3s @jackquinnswife @freds-slut @love4ldr @blueeyedbesson @43hughes
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sansaorgana · 6 months
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— A BETTER PERSON
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PAIRING — Erik Lehnsherr x fem!Mutant!Reader
SUMMARY — Erik struggles with accepting the fact that his son is not a mutant.
AUTHOR’S NOTE — Hi, it's me again 😂 This fic can be read as a part two of THIS FIC but doesn't have to be at all. It contains some fighting between Erik and Reader but I promise it all ends well! 💗 Reader’s mutation is NOT specified (as much as it was possible).
WORD COUNT — 3,930
ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.
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A BETTER PERSON
“No,” Erik stood up and clenched his fists to stop himself from using his mutation powers against Charles. “I do not agree,” he stated more calmly now.
“Anybody else?” Charles looked past him at the other teachers sitting inside his office.
No one else said anything, though.
“I’m sorry, Erik, you’ve lost,” Charles smirked at him.
“Fine then,” your husband clenched his jaw. “If you want to let the non-mutant children in this school, I’m leaving. I won’t teach humans.”
“Don’t be too dramatic, Erik,” you stood up as well and put your hand on his shoulder. “We’re building something special here and you know it…”
“Yes, we are,” he snapped at you and pushed your hand away, “but he wants to ruin it,” he pointed at Charles. “This place is a safe space for the mutants. Humans have always been a threat.”
“Well, obviously, the ones who hate mutants won’t be welcome here,” Charles rolled his eyes. “Your wife is right, Erik. You’re overreacting.”
“Oh, really?” Erik tilted his head. “Because I’m sure you’re going to invite everyone here soon. People who are against us so they can know us better and realize we are the same. People who admire us so they can look at us from a closer angle. I am not an animal in the zoo, Xavier, and I certainly am not a lab rat. Never again.”
“Erik, it’s just only about avoiding segregation,” you sighed. “Do you really have to make a scene? We don’t even know yet if we’re going to get permission from the government… It’s just an idea.”
“I am not going to teach non-mutants. End of discussion. They’re not welcome here,” he drawled out and that was when you heard a noise behind the door. An echo of the familiar legs running away as quickly as possible down the corridor.
“Alex…”, you whispered and laid your eyes on Erik to give him a dirty look. “I hope you’re proud of yourself,” you snarled at him before running out of Charles’ office.
Your son was fast but he wasn’t extraordinarily fast and he was a child after all, so you caught him pretty fast. In fact, there was nothing extraordinary about him and he was already ten years old, which could only mean one thing that your husband refused to ever address. For Erik, Alex was just a late bloomer but he was the only person in the whole school who was thinking that.
Because the truth was, Xavier’s School already had a non-mutant student. And it was Erik Lehnsherr’s flesh and blood.
“Alex,” you grabbed your son’s shoulder and turned him around. His eyes were full of tears and his hands were shaking. It was breaking your heart to see him like that. “Alex, what were you doing there? It was a meeting for the teachers.”
“I wanted to f-find you,” he sniffled and rubbed his eyes. “Edie did it again…” he sobbed.
Edie was your second child, named after Erik’s mother. She was six years old and her mutant powers had recently started to show. One of her favourite activities was to tease her older brother. She couldn’t understand why he was always so upset instead of teasing her back. She inherited much more from her father than just his mutation.
“What did she do?” You sighed and fixed his ruffled hair.
“Locked me in my room,” he looked down, ashamed of the fact that he had been bullied by a little girl. “I couldn’t open it, she melted the lock.”
You sighed and pressed his head to your chest. Edie’s pranks were starting to get too cruel these days.
“I will talk to her,” you promised him and kissed the top of his head. “Now, about what your father said…” you brought up the topic and Alex burst into tears once again, pressing his face even deeper into the material of your sweater. “He didn’t mean you, love,” you didn’t know what else to say.
“Of course I didn’t,” Erik’s voice made you both turn around. He looked a bit uneasy and he was keeping a distance from you two. “Because you’re a mutant, Alex. You just need more time to figure it out,” your husband added.
“No, I am not!” Alex exclaimed dramatically and ran away again but this time you didn’t chase him. Instead, you approached your husband angrily.
“That was not what he needed to hear,” you drawled out. “What he needs to hear is that you love him nevertheless,” you explained and then you took a step back and furrowed your brow while staring deep into Erik’s bright eyes. He was staring back at you without a word. “Unless you… don’t,” you whispered before turning around and leaving him alone in the middle of the corridor.
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You didn’t look for Alex after that. You decided to give him some time to cry alone first and instead of that you focused on giving Edie a lecture. One of many and probably not the last one. You loved her, of course, just like you loved her father. But sometimes you wished she was… less like him. One Erik was enough to handle.
Speaking of him, he was avoiding you for the rest of the day and he seemed to be offended because he didn’t even want to talk to you. When you bumped into him, he didn’t say “sorry” or anything, he just walked on by.
During supper he sat next to you as usual but he kept talking to Raven sitting by his other side. You were playing with your food and watching Edie from the corner of your eye. She seemed to be very giddy and joyful. Too much for a girl who had been scolded by her mother for bullying her brother. She seemed to brag to one of the boys about what she had done earlier. You stopped looking at her and started to search for your son amongst the children by the long table.
“Where is Alex?” You asked out loud after realizing that he wasn’t there.
“Probably still crying in his room,” Edie shrugged her arms and you stood up loudly, making everyone wince at the sound of the squeaking chair.
“(Y/N), let him be,” Erik laid his eyes on you for the first time since morning. “Boys process such things differently.”
“No, they don’t,” you had to fight the urge to slap his face. How could he not even be worried? How could he allow Edie to be so insolent? “Now, if you excuse me, I need to find my son,” you informed everyone and walked out of the dining room to hurry upstairs.
Alex was a son of two teachers so he had the privilege of having his own room next to yours. Not so long ago he had been sharing it with Edie but since she had started to show off her powers they had to be separated. You knocked upon the door and waited for an answer but there was none.
“Alex, baby, open the door, please. It’s me, mummy,” you whispered but there was still no answer. “I’m walking inside, honey,” you pushed the door open.
The room was dark. You put the light on only to find the room empty and your heart skipped a beat at the realization that you had absolutely no idea where your son was.
Desperately, to be absolutely sure, you looked under the bed and inside the closet but he obviously wasn’t there. So you ran back downstairs, feeling like your heart would jump out of your chest any given moment. Your head felt heavy and your ears were ringing.
“He’s not in his room,” you announced after opening the door leading to the dining room with shaky hands. Everyone went silent and looked at you. Seeing your terrified face and trembling arms, they began to worry as well. Erik stood up from the table and approached you slowly.
“He… He’s not… He’s not there, Erik,” you struggled to catch your breath out of growing anxiety as you held onto his sleeve.
“Maybe he’s hiding in the garden,” he tried to calm you down but he began to look worried as well. “I’ll look for him.”
“I will help you,” Hank left the table, too.
“And me,” Raven joined them.
“Can we help as well?” One of the students asked.
“You can stay here and finish your meal,” Charles told him. “Unless any of you has any idea where Alex can be?” he asked but there was a dead silence from all the kids. “Alright then, you stay here. We are going to look for him. I’m sure he’s nearby,” he approached you and took your hand in his. “(Y/N), come with me,” he encouraged you and you nodded before following him outside. You felt like you were inside a bad dream.
“He has never done anything like that… He… He would always tell me everything…” you stuttered out. “He’s a clingy child… With me at least… That’s so unlike him to just… To just make me worry like that.”
“I’m sure Erik will find him,” Charles tried to calm you down and you both went outside where the rest of the adults had been looking for your son.
You could hear their voices calling out Alex’s name but you were too petrified to move and help them. You felt helpless. Ten minutes passed and there was apparently no sign of him still being around the mansion.
“He’s not here,” Hank walked up to you and Charles and shook his head. Erik followed him, paler than ever.
“When was the last time you saw Alex?” Your husband asked you.
“The same time you did,” you snapped at him. “I gave him some time after what you had said to him and it was my mistake. I should have gone after him and left that brat Edie to you.”
“Hey, hey,” Erik took a step back and put his arms in the air like he was giving up, “don’t take it out on me and certainly not on our daughter. Charles,” he looked down at his friend, “you can find Alex, right? You shouldn’t have a problem with that.”
“Well…” Charles sighed and hesitated for a moment, “I’m a telepath but it’s easier to connect with other mutants.”
“Excellent then,” Erik nodded.
“I’m going to try but considering the fact Alex is not a mutant…” Charles began again, less delicately this time.
“He is,” Erik protested, “come on, Xavier, you know that he is. We’ve talked about it, you were supposed to help him to find out what his mutation was. Just because you haven’t found it yet…”
“Wait, what?!” You interrupted him with a scream. It was the first time you had ever heard of it. 
“I tried but… Erik, there is really nothing there…” Charles explained but you didn’t let him finish. You approached your husband and pushed him away.
“Hey!” He exclaimed.
“Stay away!” You yelled. “It’s all your fault, stay away!”
“(Y/N), calm down. Charles needs to focus if you want him to find Alex,” Hank tried to put his arm around you but you pushed him away as well. Your anger and worry made your powers grow stronger and stronger with every minute.
“You’re so full of shit, Erik,” you could feel your whole body melting under the power of your own mutation. Your every nerve and every muscle was filled with anger. You could kill him with a snap of your fingers if you wanted to. “So, your son is a human. In a place like this, though, he is the outsider. He is the one needing protection here. And instead of doing what a father should do, you were pushing him, behind my back, arranging secret sessions with Charles… You… Can’t you see that what you’re doing isn’t far from what has been done to you?” you asked while walking slowly towards him. Those were rare moments to see Erik Lehnsherr genuinely scared of anyone but it was one of them. “He’s not a lab rat or a weapon. He’s a person. And all that boy has ever wanted was for you to love him. You have no idea how many times he’s been asking me about it. Does dad love me? And I have never been brave enough to tell him to ask you instead. Because I was scared of your answer. But now I know it,” you finished with your face only a few inches away from his.
“No, you don’t. You think you do but you don’t,” Erik whispered and swallowed thickly. He wasn’t even trying to defend himself, it was like he had known, deep down, that he deserved it. “You must be insane if you think I don’t love him,” his words were almost inaudible at this point; only for your ears to hear.
“Then act like it,” you drawled out.
“Mrs. Lehnsherr!” One of the children’s voices made you turn around. It was the boy Edie had been talking to earlier. You had noticed a few times that he quite liked to pick on your son as well whenever there was such an opportunity.
“What do you want?” You asked him rudely.
“I’m sorry I haven’t told you earlier…” he started as his voice broke. He looked scared and worried. “I know where Alex went… I saw him… I’m sorry, I should have said…” he started crying and you approached him quickly. “I’m so sorry…” he kept repeating.
“Stop apologizing and tell me where he is,” you grabbed him by his shoulders.
“(Y/N),” Charles raised his hand. He didn’t want you to be too rough with the students but you didn’t care. You wanted your son to be safe and back at home.
“I asked him where he was going… He told me he was running away to New York to get adopted by... normal people. I think he took the bus or something,” the boy sniffled.
“When was it?” You asked.
“Not long before supper.”
“He must be on the station or on that bus then,” you heard Erik’s voice. “I’m going,” he added and ran to the hangar to get one of the cars.
You wanted to stop him. To tell him that you should be there, too. But you were so heartbroken after what that student had told you that you couldn’t say a word. You couldn’t believe that your son wanted to be adopted by a different… normal family.
“Let’s go back inside,” you loosened the grip on the boy’s shoulders. “Thank you for telling me. You’ve done the right thing,” you added with a broken smile.
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It was almost two in the morning and everyone was asleep except for you and Charles. You were in the living room, waiting for Erik’s return. Edie was also there, she refused to go to her bedroom before seeing Alex again but she fell asleep with her head on your lap around eleven. You were playing with her hair to keep your hands busy. 
Apparently it had been her. She had noticed the other student’s odd behaviour and it had been her threatening him to tell you everything. She had been crying and shaking in your arms and blaming herself. But you weren’t angry with her anymore. She was only six years old and putting a blame on her would be unfair. It would only make her feel even worse. It had been Erik who should have known better. Not her.
“They’re back,” Charles whispered after hearing a car on the driveway.
“Both of them?” You asked, worriedly.
“Yes,” he closed his eyes for a moment, “I can sense them both.”
You sighed with relief and gently moved Edie’s head away from your lap to put it on the sofa’s cushion. Then you stood up and walked out to see Erik and Alex entering the mansion.
When you saw them, you froze for a moment because Alex was being carried by Erik in his arms.
“He’s asleep,” your husband informed you immediately. “He fell asleep on our way here,” Erik explained. “He’s fine,” he added and you nodded.
“You couldn’t just wait at the next bus stop, right?” Charles’ voice interrupted you from behind. He was looking at Erik with a smirk. He had just been looking through his memories to find out what had exactly happened. “You just had to dramatically stop the bus in the middle of the road?”
“Yes, in fact, I had to,” Erik drawled out at his friend, “because my son was in there.”
“Alex!” Edie ran up to you. Her hair was ruffled and her eyes were squinted – she was barely awake – but she had a big smile on her face. Her calling woke Alex up and he moved in Erik’s arms before yawning and looking down at his sister. “Alex!” She called once again and extended her hands towards him. Erik put the boy on the ground so his sister could give him a hug. “I’m sorry I locked you in your room!” She cried happy tears and squeezed her brother tighter.
“It’s okay…” Alex hugged her back.
“I will never do it again!” Edie squealed.
“Thanks…”
“And you?” You crossed your arms and looked at your son.
“I will never do it again either. I’m sorry, mum…” He avoided your eyes, ashamed and scared. You crouched down and hugged him as well to place a kiss on his forehead.
“I’m glad Alex is safe. I’ll leave you now,” Charles nodded his head and went away quietly.
“Where did you even get the money from? For the ticket?” You asked your son.
“From dad’s wallet…” Alex looked down but you laughed instead of scolding him.
“Guess how much he’s taken,” Erik smiled for the first time in hours and you shook your head. “A hundred.”
“A hundred?!” You let out a laugh and Edie giggled. “Alex, how much do you think a ticket to New York costs?”
“I didn’t know how much it would be! I was worried it wouldn’t be enough!” Alex explained and you burst into happy tears of joy and relief to have him back. You kissed his forehead again.
“What did you do with the change?”
“I bought some comic books at the station,” he pointed at his small backpack. “And a bag of chips in case I get hungry.”
“Priorities,” Erik hummed.
“It’s time to go to bed now,” you announced when the clock struck two. “We will talk about it tomorrow before breakfast,” you stood up and Alex nodded. You took him by his hand to take him to his bedroom. Erik picked little Edie up off the ground to carry her upstairs as well. She was so sleepy she looked like she’d fall asleep standing.
When both children were already in their beds, you went to your own bedroom in silence.
“What did you tell him?” You asked when the door closed behind Erik and you were the only awake people in the whole mansion at that hour.
“Well, at first everyone was scared of me, of course…” He started.
“Yeah, no kidding,” you rolled your eyes.
“I told the bus driver my son had run away from home and that he must be there. The guy pointed his finger at Alex immediately. Not many ten year olds travel on their own. I just took him to the car,” Erik explained and sat down on the bed to run his fingers through his hair. He was exhausted.
“So… you didn’t talk to him? You haven’t told him anything?” You were shocked.
“What was I supposed to…? Listen, I was fuming! He stole my money and ran away and he’s only ten! Imagine what he’s gonna be like in five years! Absolute nightmare! I was worried sick and I was angry, so I decided it would be for the best if I shut my mouth. I have a tendency of making everything worse when I speak,” he lowered his voice in the end and put his face in the palms of his hands.
“I was too harsh to you earlier,” you sat next to him and gently took his hands in yours to move them away from his face, “I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I was worried.”
“No, you were right,” Erik sighed and looked up to meet your gaze. “I was lying to myself and pushing him. It’s… I didn’t expect to have a human son. We are both powerful mutants, it shouldn’t have happened… Now all my beliefs and opinions and… And everything… It is being questioned. And it makes me feel uneasy,” he confessed but not without the visible struggle.
“Oh, Erik…” you sighed and cupped his face to caress his cheeks with your thumbs. “Perhaps boys really do process such things differently,” you chuckled.
“I’ve maimed and killed for the idea of mutants’ supremacy. If I abandon it now… What would that make me? A hypocrite. A traitor to the cause,” he clenched his jaw as a tear rolled down his cheek.
“It would make you a good father, Erik,” you wiped that tear with your thumb, “and that’s all that should matter. Also, people change. It’s a natural process. You’ve changed once already, after being hurt by Schmidt. Because before that you hadn’t been like this either,” you reminded him and a short silence occurred between you two.
“Why do you always have to be right?” he sighed and you laughed softly before leaning in to place a kiss on his forehead.
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When you went to Alex’s room in the morning, he was still asleep, which was not surprising after a night like that. You sat on the edge of his bed to caress your son’s hair and Erik opened his backpack to look at the comic books your son had bought.
“They’re about superheroes,” he noticed.
“Aren’t they all?” You asked.
“Mum…?” Alex opened his eyes slowly and covered his mouth to yawn before rubbing his eyes.
“Hey, sleepy head,” you greeted him softly. “How are you?”
“I’m good,” he sat up and extended his hands to give you a hug. You leaned in to put your arms around him and squeeze him tight.
“Your dad has something to tell you,” you said and moved back. Erik cleared his throat and sat next to you as Alex watched carefully while making big eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Erik started with an apology, which was quite unusual for him. “I’m sorry I made an impression that…” he hesitated. “No, it wasn’t making an impression. No more excuses. I’m sorry for pushing you into being a mutant. You are…” he sighed. “You are perfect the way you are because you are my son,” he finished. He had never expected to give such a talk to a non-mutant.
You felt tears forming in your eyes at his words and you squeezed Erik’s cold hand to give him more courage.
“But… I don’t have any cool superpowers,” Alex whined. “I wish I had.”
“Your superpower is being yourself and that’s enough,” Erik assured him. “And I’m sorry I haven’t seen it earlier. Even though you can’t defend yourself as well as me or your mum or your sister, I will never let anything bad happen to you,” he leaned in to give Alex a hug and pressed his son’s head to his chest. “You’re making me a better person and I was scared of that but I am not anymore. I love you.”
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MASTERLIST
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i-cant-sing · 1 year
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There's an idea I'm thinking about:
The first is about how the LOV would attack a secret government facility and during the rampage, Dabi finds out about the locked up people that have rare quirks or something. And of course, he's letting them all out because the league could use powerful quirks, and then he stumbles upon you.
A child.
You're hooked upto various machines and looking like life itself is being drained our of you. Your face is expressionless, yet Dabi could feel you calling out to him for help.
Whatever the reason may be, Dabi frees you. He puts you on the ground and looks you dead in the eyes. "You're free now, kid. Run." But you just stare at him before your knees buckle.
Dabi curses under his breath before hauling you up in his arms and starts walking out of tge facility, pushing your face into his chest whenever he killed the guards and white coats.
He has the league's physician check you, who tells him that you're quite malnourished and he's found some injuries on your body, but perhaps it's the scars in your mind that are way deeper.
Dabi inquires what he meant, and the doctor just replies that the facility was knows for torturing the captives and treating them like labrats. For all he knows, you've been subjected to that torture since you were born.
Dabi nods and decides he'll just give you away to a foster home or something, but when he actually took you to a foster place, you gave him that stare again- the one that was screaming at him to not leave you.
"Stop that. I can't take care of you-" but you continued piercing him with your stare.
"Fuck." He whispers. "Shit- Fine. Come. Lets go home." And that's how Dabi became a dad.
The best dad, and he's like extra protective and extra crazy because of your horrible childhood. I mean, he's taking you to psychiatrists and all, but deep down, he knows you'll never be completely normal. And he's fine with that, because Dabi isn't normal either. You're just 2 imperfections of the universe, but perfectly imperfect for each other.
I just- I just KNOW that Dabi has the hugest soft spot for you, and I know for a fact that hes amazing with his non verbal child.
Hes superrrr patient too. He takes baby steps with you, pushes you but not beyond your limits.
And he's always down for cuddling you. I mean he isn't fond of physical touch, but when you come to him and pull gently at his sleeve, Dabi will drop whatever he's doing to hug you. He could be dead asleep on the couch, but the moment he hears your feet patter, he's up. What do you need? Hugs? Chocolates? Hugs and chocolates? Done, done and done.
Oooh imagine if someone actually tries to mess with reader. Could be a bully, could be a thief who broke in to the house when Dabi wasn't home.
Bro, imagine the pure rage Dabi will be in as he walks in and sees a stranger threatening you, blood dripping down your nose as you look wide eyed at the thief, scared to shit.
Dabi is knocking the thief out of the way before coming upto you, his poor child that's trembling like a leaf.
"Shhh, I got you. I got you. Alright, go to your room and close the door. I'll be there soon."
And then Dabi proceeds to burn the thief to ashes.
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I've also been thinking about how a yandere would react to a reader with epilepsy? Idk which yandere to choose though.
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miss-tc-nova · 5 months
Text
Hunted - Leona Kingscholar & "Yuu"
My piece for the Twst Horror Zine. I had a lot of fun thinking of the possible terror and re-watching one of my favorite horror movies.
Premise: Backpacking around Twisted Wonderland goes bad
Words: 2,962
Trigger Warnings: implied death, stalking, isolation
Art done by the incredibly gifted HoKeki on Twitter!
~~~~~
October 23, 20XX
I’m not sure how to start this, so here goes.
Welcome to my journal! Over the next several months, my friends and I will be backpacking across Twisted Wonderland, taking in the sights and cultures across the world. This is going to be my first excursion and I thought it would be fun to document it.
As anyone who knows me might guess, I’m bringing Ace and Deuce along, though I’m not sure how they came to agree on it when they never seem to agree on anything. Even right now, Ace is badgering Deuce about all the stuff he’s bringing. I agree Deuce might’ve overpacked a bit, but I don’t know how Ace thinks he’s going to be fine with just two sets of clothes and his pajamas. At least I don’t have to wear them. So I’ll be spending a lot more time with these dummies, but I’m excited it’s my best friends I get to share this adventure with.
Our first stop is going to be Sunrise City in the Sunset Savanna. From there, we’ll probably go east to the Shaftlands and then maybe up into the Kingdom of Heroes. The great thing is that we get to decide as we go. I was pretty adamant about starting in Sunrise City though. I’ve always wanted to visit since I learned about its culture and how intermingled it is with the wildlife. Also, being directly south of the Queendom of Roses made it an easy choice to start with.
Tomorrow can’t come soon enough. It’ll be a struggle to keep my excitement in check enough to get even an hour of sleep. Though I should probably finish packing first. Thank goodness Riddle isn’t here or I’d never hear the end of my unpreparedness. But that’s part of the fun, right? The spontaneity and not knowing what adventure the next day will bring. It’s the surprises on the horizon that I want to experience. Even the mishaps—because you know that’s gonna happen with the three of us.
I better cut it here. Ace is about to get punched in the face and I still gotta pack.
Peace!
~~~~~
October 24, 20XX
We finally made it! It took so long the sun is already starting to sink in the sky, but we’re here! Our plane was surprisingly small. In fact, the port here is more rural than I was expecting. It feels a lot more wild—like a safari.
Still, it’s absolutely breathtaking. Clear skies shine bright and the plains ripple like liquid gold in the breeze. Only the captivating local culture could stop me from staring at it for hours. The people are really kind. Most were obviously trying to make money off us, but even they were nice. And it all looked so amazing we had to drag Ace away from a shop selling “Bone Cookies.” This is literally our first day and the temptation to spend money is strong.
Right now, we’re in a cozy guest cabin. Some government officials questioned us about the purpose of our visit, where we’re going, all that stuff. When we told them we planned on taking the scenic route to the capital, the radio chatter started. They insisted we find another route, but the golden plains are one of the “Must See” views of the Sunset Savanna. Plus, we don’t have the money for fancy transportation. I’m sure we’ll be fine with a three-day walk, especially when there are rest stops that have some of the best hospitality.
In the end, our names, details, and contact information were taken. They even took pictures of us from different angles. It’s as if they’re expecting something to happen.
Some of the locals acted odd too, after we told them we were heading through the plains. Some gave us extra food, one gave us a discount, and one strangely gave us a compass—all with the same weird look. Still, I wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Anyway, it was an exciting start but I can’t wait to get trekking. I wonder what tomorrow will bring.
~~~~~
October 25, 20XX
Waking up to Ace and Deuce arguing is going to get old real fast, but I should probably get used to it. They are “best friends” after all.
After the commotion, we prepared to head out. The locals again reminded us not to get distracted. Explicit instructions told us that there were to be no detours and no delays. Honestly, it started to kill the excitement. However, it’s going to take three days to reach the capital—one day to get to the first camp, one to get to the second, and one to get to the city—so it’s probably just proper precaution.
A single step into the gold plains was all it took for the grass to dwarf us. Elephant grass is notoriously tall, but I couldn’t have prepared for just how small we were. It felt like being thrown into a maze; yellow grass, the dirt under our feet, and the blue sky above were all that could be seen. It became intimidating along with its wonder and beauty. Fortunately, there’s only one path.
Not long after we began, Ace started talking tales of some banished prince. He heard the story from a shop owner he bought cookies from after being kicked from the cabin earlier. The reason I hadn’t heard anything was because of how recent it had been. Supposedly, just days ago, he tried to overthrow the king and murder the heir. People called for his execution, but the king didn’t have the heart to kill his own brother. Instead, he was exiled. But while being transported out of the country, he was set free by his followers—his jailers’ bodies were found maimed beyond recognition. Now the rumors say he’s hiding out to the east in the Shadowlands.
I didn’t want to hear any more, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell Ace to stop. Instead, he just kept talking, probably trying to scare us. And yet I think he also scared himself. It didn’t help that we could hear things rustling in the grass. I thought I saw something once, but couldn’t say for sure. Even though the locals said most wildlife would ignore us, it’s unnerving not to see what we can hear.
Despite the spooky stories, we made good time. The rest stop was within reach well before the sun started to set. Camp guards ushered us inside the fence, demanding our names, birthdays, reasons for travel—the same information we provided at the outpost. It must’ve been to check that we were on the list of expected visitors, which is a little strange considering I noticed ours were the only names on it.
It’s a small campsite. There are a few cabins around the clearing. A massive ring circles the whole place, dotted with devices that appear newly installed. Deuce says they’re for magic defense. Nobody can use magic in the camp and magic can’t get in. For all the security, that’s probably why we were instructed to arrive before sundown.
Well, I better get some sleep. Another long day of walking awaits tomorrow.
~~~~~
October 26, 20XX
A member of the camp staff woke us early this morning—the sun hadn’t even broken the horizon. All color had forsaken his face as he rushed us to dress and pack. No answers were offered to our question, only echoes that we leave immediately.
And again, as we stepped foot into the wilderness, we were warned to stay on the path and stop for nothing.
On our way out, the ruckus could be heard. They found something unusual at one of the barrier projectors. It would make sense to get us out of the way so they could focus on repairs. Yet I can’t help wondering if the hole being dug on the outskirts of the campsite had something to do with it. What was it for? What happened last night while we were all asleep? Did something get in? Where was it now?
That must be my imagination talking. It was early so it would be easy to misunderstand the whole thing. Besides, we needed to leave earlier since today’s trek was longer than yesterday. The sun would be long gone before we reached the next camp otherwise.
If only the boys could’ve kept their mouths shut. They argued the whole way. Ace sulked about not getting to sleep in and Deuce’s phone was missing. He demanded that Ace give it back, but Ace denied having it. The accusations probably come from last night’s teasing over Deuce messaging his mom, but I think he misplaced it in a different pocket. Hopefully he finds it soon or he’ll have to spend some of that souvenir money on a replacement.
Their fighting slowed us down, delaying our arrival at the second camp until just after sundown. Our reception by the staff was rough. After being jerked inside and held under duress, the interrogation went on until they could confirm we were the names on the list of travelers. So much for the hospitality.
There were no apologies as they put us in a cabin for the night. That’s where everything in Ace’s pack got dumped out and it still wasn’t enough to convince Deuce about his phone. So the arguing continued, even as I left to get a break from it all.
This second rest stop is much like the first. Cabins and staff equipment are scattered around. Though people are quiet at night, I could hear animals beyond the barrier. I think I even saw one. It was big, maybe the size of an antelope. It’s crazy how comfortable the wildlife is so close to settlements like this.
Well, I’m tucked in now and Deuce and Ace are pouting in their own beds. We’ll set out again in the morning and, by sunset tomorrow, we’ll be in Sunrise City.
~~~~~
October 27, 20XX
We messed up.
Ace really didn’t have Deuce’s phone. But neither did Deuce.
Like the day before, we were woken up early and sent on our way. Camp staff barely gave us time to pack before shoving us out. There was no time to question the hasty behavior and it left a sour taste in everyone’s mouth. Still, we went on our way as planned.
After noon, Deuce made us stop, yelling at us to be quiet. I thought he was crazy, but then I heard it too.
It was his mom’s ringtone.
Coming from the elephant grass.
We couldn’t stop him. He just took off. It was a blind run as Ace and I tried to keep up. We never would’ve caught up if he hadn’t stopped. In his hand was his phone, still ringing yet entirely useless. The screen was shattered and the frame bent. It was a miracle it could still even ring. How it got there and how it got destroyed is a mystery—one made worse by the fact that we couldn’t find the path again.
No one could say for sure which way we ran and the grass gave us nothing to find our bearings. Our phones were just handy clocks with no service in the middle of nowhere. Only the compass gave us any consolation. Surely heading south will get us out of here.
To make matters worse, night fell sooner than we anticipated. Making camp was the only sensible solution, no matter how badly we want to get out of here.
Now here I sit, in our little tent, listening to things creeping all around us. I have this nagging feeling that, whatever they are, they’ve been following us and I don’t know if it makes me feel better or worse that I can’t see them.
It’s probably just my paranoia. If we keep going south, we’ll make it out of here tomorrow. By now the savanna guides must realize we’re missing and be looking for us. We’ll be laughing about this whole thing in Sunrise City by lunch, except Deuce who will have to buy a new phone. Because of course this is the kind of trouble we would get ourselves into.
Everything will be fine.  
~~~~~
October 28, 20XX
Maybe my paranoia last night wasn’t just paranoia.
None of us got any sleep at all. Whatever was sneaking through the grass lingered all night, getting louder and louder with their cackling and snarling. When we finally ventured out of the tent this morning, we were greeted with the destruction of our supplies. Everything was scattered, either destroyed or altogether missing. Here and there were pieces of the map, unsalvageable, and the compass was gone. Our bags were placed right outside the tent because keeping food inside is frowned upon for this reason, but now we have no food, no directions, and maybe half our belongings.
There was nothing to do but pick up what we could and continue walking.
Ace’s pessimism didn’t help. He’s convinced it was the banished prince at our camp, but all we could tell from the flattened grass was that they were large creatures. Still, the constant talk of our doom began to bother me and Deuce. I just hope whatever they are, they realize we don’t have anything else and leave us alone.
I don’t know how, but we must’ve gotten turned around somewhere. We tried to follow the sun, but each step was just more and more grass, hiding the unknown, letting us hope that the end is just one more step. Now the sky is black and we’re still here. We’re exhausted physically, mentally, and emotionally. So we set up camp to spend another night in this place.
~~~~~
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~~~~~
October 29, 20XX
I’m getting really scared now.
Our tent was shaken by a fight just outside last night, but we were all too scared to make a sound. In the morning, not a word was said as we walked. Only this time, we knew the noises in the grass were them. They are following us. No, stalking is more accurate. I can hear them snicker and growl. I’m sure if I reached into the grass, I would touch one.
But they have nothing on the banished prince.
I’m not sure how, but I always knew it wasn’t him stalking us but his hyena henchmen. They’re destructive and menacing, but he’s a monster hiding in the shadows. He’s behind this.
I don’t remember when I spotted him, but I could feel his gaze on me, different from the other beasts. His growl shot through my heart and it felt like I had his claws at my throat. Barely veiled by grass, he wanted me to see him. Fangs eager to tear gleamed in that grin. Behind his gaze was nothing but malice, highlighted by the ink dripping across his skin. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t scream. I couldn’t even breathe. I was so certain that those bloodthirsty green eyes would be the last thing I ever saw.
And then he was gone. He wasn’t really gone, only gone from sight. There’s no doubt that he and his pack are watching us even now. We’ve been sentenced to death and they’re just toying with us.
We’re never getting out of here. Even if it weren’t for the monsters hunting us, we have no food and no more water. I don’t know if we can survive another night out here. I regret everything. I never should’ve suggested this trip. Because of me, we’re going to die out here. I’m sorry. I’m sorry to Ace and Deuce. I’m sorry to Deuce’s mom and Ace’s family. I’m so sorry I got your boys into this mess. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.
I wish this nightmare would just end.
~~~~~
October 30, 20XX
We lost Ace today.
Tension was high. We’re being hunted. We know we’re going to die. The fear of what’s in store for us is sickening. Unlike yesterday, Ace and Deuce couldn’t stop arguing. A fight was inevitable. When Ace knocked Deuce to the ground, he took off. We tried to find him—spent hours calling his name. But we never found him.
Long after the sun had gone, the grass finally parted. At first, we were excited. I think I cried. Then I realized where we were.
Rocky, barren land laid before us. Towers of stone loomed above, colder and less forgiving than the grass we escaped. An eerie fog hovered, concealing both new and old monsters. It was bad. We found the Shadowlands. Sunrise City was meant to be south of the port we started at. Those beasts managed to manipulate our path away from our destination and far to the east. He led us here to be slaughtered.
This is where we found Ace’s magic pen.
Nothing else.
We considered our options. The grass gave us no visibility and muddled our sense of direction. On the other hand, the Shadowlands were the prince’s territory. Both were bad choices, but we chose not to go back. At least in the Shadowlands, we had a chance. We knew where we were and how to get to where we needed to. Maybe Deuce and I could still find our way to Sunrise City. Maybe we could send a search party back for Ace.
Maybe this terrible journey will be over soon.
~~~~~
October 31, 20XX
We were wrong! We should’ve gone back!
If anyone finds this, stay out of the Shadowlands!
They took Deuce! They dragged him out of the tent! I can’t hear him scream anymore!
If you see this RUN!
GET OUT OF HERE!
GET OUT BEFORE LEONA KINGSCHOLAR FIN
~~~~~
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tillystealeaves · 28 days
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Steddie Fic- Part 1: Breakup
I don't know what to title this thing, but it's a 3 part story and this is Part 1. Hope you enjoy!!!!
Steve stood in the living room, not knowing what to do with himself. Eddie would be here soon. Eddie was working that day, at the music store in the town next to Hawkins (where people didn’t care so much about the Hawkins rumor mill), and his shift ended at 4, which meant Eddie would be getting to Steve’s house by around 4:30 because Steve had invited him over, and it was 4:15 now, so Eddie should be here any minute, and if it was a normal night Steve would probably be pulling something out of the oven but tonight-
Steve stopped himself. He took a breath. He couldn’t allow his mind to go on tangents like that or he was going to word-vomit all over Eddie.
Eddie, who would be arriving any minute.
Steve had thought for a long time about whether he wanted to have this conversation in his house. If he wanted the memories of this to be burned into his mind every time that he walked through his living room. But his house was already full of so many ghosts. Barb sat perpetually at the edge of his pool, his mother cried over a glass of wine at the kitchen counter, and his father was… everywhere. Always telling Steve how everything he did was somehow a stain on the Harrington name.
Besides, the alternative was to do this at Eddie’s house and that… he couldn’t do that. Eddie had been living for less than a year in the new double-wide trailer supplied by the government. His old home, even if it hadn’t been ripped to shreds, would have been forever filled with the ghost of Chrissy. Steve couldn’t make bad memories for Eddie in his new one. (Though he was fairly sure that Eddie wouldn’t be particularly haunted by this conversation anyway.)
And then there was the fact that over the past eight months since the Spring Break from Hell, Eddie’s new trailer had come to mean something to Steve. It felt like… home. Like the way a home should feel, in the way his own never had. It felt lived in, even though it was new. With Wayne’s mug collection and replacement posters tacked up on Eddie’s wall. With music playing or the TV on mute in the living room, coffee brewing in the kitchen because between Eddie’s and Wayne’s work schedule, it was always breakfast time for someone. Steve had felt welcomed there. Safe. Like he belonged. He refused to poison those memories for himself with what was about to happen.
“Stevie?”
Eddie’s voice pulled Steve from his thoughts. He wondered if Eddie had just let himself in or if he’d been knocking for minutes with no answer. Well, Steve figured he could always blame his damaged hearing if Eddie complained about waiting too long.
“Hey Eds.”
Eddie was smiling, warm and easy. Steve tried to freeze the moment in his mind. Sometimes memories were getting lost inside his head- the doctors said it would continue to happen, a side effect of too many head injuries. But Steve swore to himself that he would never let his brain lose this image of Eddie so happy just from arriving at Steve’s house.
Almost as soon as Steve had made a note to remember Eddie’s smile, it vanished. Suddenly, Eddie looked concerned. He approached Steve and put his hands on his shoulders. His long fingered hands, warm, with calluses that that had ghosted over Steve’s arms, his back, his hair- Steve bit the inside of his cheek and pulled himself back into the moment. “What’s up, Steve? You look… less like a ray of sunshine than usual. Something wrong? Is it a migraine?”
Steve stepped back, outside of Eddie’s grip. “No, my head’s fine. I just… can we talk for a minute?”
Eddie sank down on the couch and immediately began fiddling with his rings, his head angled so that his hair was falling in front of his face. “Yeah, of course we can. Um… did I do something wrong?”
His voice sounded so small. Gods, Steve didn’t know if he would be able to do this if Eddie was going to be sad. The whole point was to make Eddie happy- not tonight, of course. Steve knew tonight would sting. But it wouldn’t hurt Eddie. And in the long run, Eddie would be happy. He would be-
“Stevie? You’re sort of scaring me, baby. Did something bad happen? Like, Upside Down bad?”
“No,” Steve answered quickly. He rushed to the couch and sat down, putting his hand reassuringly on Eddie’s knee. (He ignored the voice in his head whispering that this might be the last moment that they touched.) “No, it’s nothing like that. I just-” He had to just do it. He had to put words to what he wanted least in the world, but what he knew was the right thing. “I think we need to stop this thing between us.”
Steve dared to glance up at Eddie, but found that he couldn’t see anything of his expression. His right hand pulled his hair across his face and into his mouth while his left hand fiddled frantically with the rips on his jeans. “Okay.” Eddie’s voice was thick. Was he going to cry? Steve didn’t think this would make him cry. “If that’s what you want, of course, ba- Steve. But is there anything I can do to fix it? I mean, could you maybe tell me what’s not working for you and I can do it better?”
“You didn’t do anything, Eds,” Steve assured him. Eddie had to know that this was absolutely not his fault. It was Steve’s fault, 100%. “It’s just… when two people want different things out of a relationship, someone’s going to end up unhappy. And I don’t want to ever make you unhappy.”
“I’m not unhappy!” Eddie protested. He looked up and even through his hair, Steve could see his eyes were red and wet. Steve looked down at the floor. “Are you unhappy? What am I doing to make you unhappy?”
Steve swallowed past the burning lump in his throat. He really hadn’t expected Eddie to put up a fight. He had expected him to agree, maybe give him a parting hug or maybe say that he was relieved that Steve hadn’t made Eddie have to do this himself. He had hoped that Eddie would say they could still be friends, or at minimum be cool with each other for the sake of the kids. But if this is what Eddie needed from him, he could spell it out.
“You’re not doing anything to make me unhappy. Look, I talked to Robin about this a lot, trying to figure out the best way to handle it. She said I couldn’t keep avoiding it by just wishing that we could stay this way forever. Sometimes, one person in a relationship just expects more out of it than what it is. And if they don’t talk about it, that person is going to get their heart broken. And the other person is going to get sick of them. I don’t want that for us. I don’t want resentment or hurt feelings or- I just think we should stop this where it is. It’s been so great, Eddie.” Steve heard his voice break at that; he hoped Eddie hadn’t noticed. “It’s been really good, but I think we should stop it here before it turns into something bad.”
With his eyes still pointed resolutely at the carpet, Steve could only feel Eddie nod. He heard Eddie take a deep, shaky breath and then felt the couch lift as Eddie stood. “Okay, yeah. Message received. I’ll get out of your hair. Um… bye, Steve.”
Steve didn’t answer. Couldn’t answer. Even with his terrible hearing, every step Eddie took towards the door reverberated through his head and his chest and his heart. He stayed motionless, barely breathing, as the front door squeaked open and clicked shut. It was only when the sound of Eddie’s rickety van faded that he fell forward onto the couch- still warm from Eddie’s body- and allowed himself to sob.
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russenoire · 7 months
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in response to this post:
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ONE-sensei is a bit of a troll, not gonna lie.
but... i actually like this ending, at least for comedy's sake. the stark juxtaposition of
'boy gets hit by a truck and his unexamined jungian shadow self flattens a city before he finally makes peace with it'
with
'and everything was just fine six months later'
is funnier than spelling out exactly how we get from point A to point B, because we KNOW — as the audience — that it wasn't 'just fine'. after everything we saw, how could it be?
subverted expectations underpin a lot of comedy, even dark comedy, especially absurdist comedy. MP100 is practically built on both. this story wrings a lot of humor out of sad, if not tragic, situations: witness shigeo's 'who told you you could pass out?!' after his home has been reduced to kindling. or ritsu's admission that he only recently stopped crying himself to sleep at night over his inability to bend spoons like his big brother. while he's letting shigeo know just how much he supposedly hates him in that alley.
not expanding upon the real-life consequences of said city-flattening is funny precisely because dropping 'i wrecked my hometown after nearly dying in a car accident on the way to ask out my crush when i was a teenager' in a conversation and just... leaving it there? would be fucking horrifying in real life. here, in the elastic magical-realist context of MP100, it's more darkly absurd than anything else...
more to your point, OP: in this particular series, ONE-sensei tells so much of this story by implication. the answers to some of your questions are in the text, only... alluded to.
this might get long. bear with me:
the fact that joseph from the government exists? and that he's an esper working in secret? implies that the knowledge of destructive espers might need to be concealed from the public at large, perhaps to prevent wide-scale panic or ostracism of espers themselves. i doubt the government was forthright with its citizens about the confession arc disaster or the actual cause, for the same reasons.
that suzuki's broadcast-hijacking world domination announcement is met with public disdain and ridicule, especially over social media? outside of our cast, no one actually takes his threat seriously until it happens. reigen's trash-talking claw's seventh division down to earth also shows how little respect espers who don't make themselves useful to society actually get here. he is, after all, just another member of the public.
that reigen agrees to take on haruaki amakusa as a client after the world domination arc in part because he's worried about losing business? people have begun to move away from seasoning city in the aftermath; whatever the threat amakusa's hyakki present, neutralizing them as soon as possible is best for reigen's continued financial health. i can see even more residents deciding they've had enough and leaving after shigeo's last brush with death. would you stay?
how many people know shigeo is connected to reigen, apart from the people they both know? out of his own inflated and fragile ego, reigen presents himself as a sole proprietor on his website; it doesn't seem his business or its reputation would be directly affected at all.
and the injuries caused? possible deaths? we get a taste: early on in chapter 100, several people are trapped and unable to move in a 地盤沈下 (jibánchinka, literally: 'land subsidence', which can apply to a sinkhole, a landslide...) shigeo has left in his wake. we only find out because a cop is being briefed on this and its cause while trying to detain the suspect for questioning.
but like all other bodily harm caused in this story, we aren't treated to the fallout. did the elderly ishiguro survive shou plowing him into the earth? did miyagawa die after teruki flipped his barrier onto him and broiled him in his own flames? did those high school bully boys live after shigeo cracked their heads open on the pavement like eggs? like, these are good questions. (i'm inclined to believe that all these people died, but many would call me harsh for saying that about an otherwise kind story. we never see them again, either way.)
shigeo actually has a healing factor of sorts; his jungian shadow self keeps plucking him from death's arms. we have no way of knowing if this is true for anyone else, because that isn't the story ONE wanted to tell. if nothing else, the mangaka's lack of desire to engage with this question of lethal consequences is at least consistent across MP100.
any questions that aren't answered either directly or that can't be answered by easy extrapolation can foster continued engagement with the material.
for example: we don't know what shigeo's parents think about much of anything in this story, besides how little they expect from him and how ritsu sets a standard they feel shigeo should live up to. this boy goes through hell multiple times and is never shown to confide in either of his parents about it, instead suffering in silence for some time until he finds someone he feels safe enough to talk to. all this gives me the distinct impression that shigeo just isn't that close to his mother or his father. i can understand why. it's actually kind of sad, even as readers' frustrated expectations of real-life parental involvement with — and confusion over — his and his brother's shenanigans also generate some dark humor.
this also establishes a precedent: since we never check in with them, by the time the confession arc rolls around, their opinion hardly matters. (but i'm sure someone has written a fic fleshing that out! i'm somewhat curious myself.)
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stormblessed95 · 1 year
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Here to tell the whole world to stop living through some rom-com style, heteronormative fantasy of Jikook. Last night’s live seems to be such a big deal for so many of you and I am here like, buddy?? You all really thought ,one fine day, JK would wake up and be like, my ring finger has JM on it, as in JIMIN??? If they are in fact a couple, there’s simply no way they will come out any time soon, if at all. Jk is 25, he’s very successful, but he’s still very young with at least two decades of career ahead. JM is just 27, known as the idol’s idol, pretty much acknowledged as a role model for the idol space. They live in Korea, and the current regime is anything but pro LGBTQIA+. As many sus moments as we have seen, they are still in the CLOSET, if they are intact together? They aren’t gonna kiss each other in public and make it official you no? At least not for the foreseeable future.
I can’t emphasise this enough- it may seem all sunshine and rainbows, because we all are wearing tinted glasses, but being queer in a queerphobic country with cameras on you 24*7 isn’t even remotely fun. It’s even harder if you have images to live up to and roles to play. As someone who has been living in Asia, I can promise you, the tables would turn so fast if they even approach the subject. They were just recently Busan expo ambassadors? You know that means practically having supremely close connections with the government? Their families, the communities they are a part of, the group, the company, everyone would have to face such strong repercussions. I am a nobody and my nonhet sexuality is a nightmare to navigate. I have lost friends and families over it. Imagine doing that while being hella popular?
Just wish them happiness and move on. If they are together, they are. We have no control over it, only over the narrative. Please just please don’t expect a mega coming of age film. It’s embarrassing. We have no right to be hurt because he said what he said. Either it is the truth or he’s trying to protect something. Either ways, respect it. Also, they are K-pop artists after all, of course they are very globally renowned, but after all they are K-pop stars. Their narratives, their medium, their stories, we will never have first hand access to. We are seeing them through a tunnel, because we just don’t have access to many things. For instance, JM is so so popular in SK and many other Asian countries and pretty much receives endless love. Like the culture minister of the country says “everyone knows JIMIN”. He isn’t tortured or tired, he’s very loved and he knows it. JK just because first Korean artist to perform at WC, he’s made the country very proud. We see them as these characters in this world, they aren’t. They are full people, with agency. Let them do what they want to. Twitter is vile and bullies playground. But that doesn’t make it a reality. They get hate, and they probs see it. But they also get love and know it.
Meant to post this yesterday. Sorry I'm late anon. Jikook distracted me 🥰
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caputvulpinum · 2 years
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God, fuck, hang on. The realizations I just had were fucking terrifying and relevant enough to the people who follow this blog that I am actually going to say it.
My schizophrenia had been going completely unmedicated for at least six years. That is as old, or older, than this blog is. My entire time as a tumblr blog which I started by being in the spotlight by virtue of my interactions and friendships with Normal Horoscopes (I gained my first 500 followers in a day), I had thought I was being treated and fine and I was absolutely not.
This makes so many more things make so much more sense, and so much scarier. I start getting more queer. I get radicalized to the left. I have so many thousands of followers by now. I stand for violent revolution then I settle into a less violent one, sorta. I start talking about anger as a tool. As a fire, cleansing. Thousands more people reblog it. I go viral again and again. Anger as a sword, righteous and holy. A friend I play Dungeons and Dragons with sends me a link to a YouTube video where a complete stranger with 700,000 subscribers reads a funny joke I made up and comments on it. That week I gain 800 more on its own. I don't know if it's related.
I post more poems about the end of the world. Essays of millions of people drowning because the government wants them dead for profit. I start talking about my relationship with the occult and spirits, and yeah, I talk about the dangers of delusional psychosis and the occult and its history. But I'm fine. I know to look out for those in myself.
And besides. I'm medicated.
I talk more about anger. Now I'm angry at the government for wanting me dead because I won't make it money. I can't work a normal job so I should just hurry up and die, right? Stop wasting their resources? But I won't. I'm angry and hate-filled at it, so I won't. I'll keep living.
But living costs food. I need to survive somehow. How do I do that? Well, I've got thousands and thousands and thousands and thousands and thousands and thousands and thousands of people right here on this website who have all signed up to look at what I say. They think I have some sort of value, right? I start asking for donations here and there to eke by what EBT doesn't cover. I start Twitch streaming. I do the occasional odd job, the occasional sex work, none of that relevant. Let's get back to you, audience. That's what you're here for, right?
The thousands and thousands and thousands and thousands et al of you who want to see what I post next. A lot of you seemed to enjoy when I would be angry, so I made some tactical decisions. I started getting angrier. After all: no such thing as bad publicity, right? If I need people to know my name to know they need to pay me to eat, I need to be really loud, then. And it worked. I made quite a few people very angry.
Mostly, probably, the "right" people angry. But that's what we always tell ourselves anyway.
But I began to resent it soon enough. How couldn't I? I was just replacing one fucked up system with another fucked up one. Now instead of my worth being based in profit, my worth was based in what I gave my audience. If I didn't give you what you wanted, you would not give me the money I needed to buy food to feed myself that week. How could I not resent all of you so much more by the day?
And do you see where this is going yet? I bet some of you have been. An unmedicated schizophrenic, being encouraged to get angrier and angrier, more and more distrusting of outside forces, of groups which wish him harm?
A cornered animal hiding in his room from the world, furious and terrified, but he has to make it love him because otherwise he'll die. An unmedicated schizophrenic that nobody knows is an unmedicated schizophrenic has to live five years of his life knowing every second of his survival is predicated on knowing thousands and thousands of strangers and faceless mobs ARE actually watching his every move, and knowing for a fact that some of them HAVE LITERALLY shown intent to harm him, but he never knows which ones and he keeps doing it because he has no other choice.
This has gone on for five, six, seven years now.
Its a miracle all I did with my anger was art and blogging. It's a fucking miracle I only got radicalized to be a communist furry. It's a goddamned fucking miracle my comprehension of my identity as not a human only landed on being a furry. Oh my God, it should have been so much worse.
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remyisme · 1 year
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New au: Stopwatch au
superhero au because I love them a little to much
False was a hero. but she doesn't know that.
she was put into the program at a very young age. as soon as people figure out her powers (the ability to stop time) she was scoped up by the government and trained to be a hero. she was 6.
when she was 16 she debuted as the hero Stopwatch. she immediately became one of the biggest assets to the hero's side. after all, you can't stop someone who's literally coming at you from between time itself.
her powers came with a nasty side effect. the more she used them, the worse her memory got. at first she only forgot things from her past or that weren't that important (ie; her parents). but eventually it started to hinder her in battle. she forgot who she was fighting sometimes.
one villain noticed this and used it to his advantage. he created a battle that was long and drawn out, forcing her to use her power to much. the battle caused the death of another hero.
False was found afterwards. she had won the battle but was unconscious. when she woke up she had no memories and her power had all but vanished. the Hero's had no use for her any more, so they told everyone that Stopwatch was dead. she might as well be.
except... it's been 5 years since her "death" and False is still having weird dreams. and after going to the site of her "death" False is starting to have flashes of memories.
Hot Guy was a close ally to Stopwatch. in fact he's never stoped hunting her killer.
in training they were very close. its less about Hot Guy and Stopwatch and more abut Scar and False.
but hey life goes on, and now he has a sidekick Cute Guy. his life's going great. plus he's made new friends, and most of his old friends are still alive. its all fine.
Until the 5 year memorial. where he swears he sees False in the crowd...
Cute Guy, or Grian doesn't believe him originally. until he looks into it civilian side, and realizes that a lot about Stopwatches "Death" doesn't make a lot of sense. why was her funeral so rushed? why was her cause of "death" never declared? why is information about her "death" buried three confidentiality levels deep?
basically; False is starting to remember, whilst Grain and Scar are starting to think that all is not what it seems on the hero team.
also: Joe shows up with basically the same power set as Beetlejuice so I think that's worth mentioning.
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[Someone to Try New Things With] - Part 1
Adrian Chase/Reader
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Word Count: 3K
Warnings: Cursing, drug use, universe-similar language/subject matter, will add as needed as things might get smutty.
AN: This has been sitting in my drafts for days now with me putting off posting. No Y/N, but the reader is loosely based off of the same as my AO3 fic. This is still a baby of an idea and more of a drabble to length is tbd :)
Covered in blood and speeding down the highway, everyone was having a much better time than they probably should. You chalked it up to the adrenaline, the euphoria at somehow still being alive despite a literal gorilla swinging you around like its toy doll. Everyone was celebrating the win, exposing and wounding a deep rooted butterfly operation right under their noses, and yet, you couldn’t help but find yourself dwelling on the opposite. The obvious fact that this plant supplied so much of the alien food source that it could only mean an invasion on the scale of which you hadn’t fully even grasped yet. 
But hey, nothing getting a little less than sober couldn’t fix. 
Harcourt nudged your shoulder, pulling you out of your own head, “If even I’m sporting a hint of a smile, how is it you’re not?” She eyed you suspiciously. 
Emilia had known you the longest of the team, and had actually been the person who made the call to recruit you. You were…an exception to the government to say the absolute least. To put it simply, this universe wasn’t your first home, but you did find yourself here and even found family, and abilities you never knew you had in your other life. 
Amanda Waller was aware of your arrival immediately, though once she saw who had found you first, even she knew she couldn’t intervene with her usual force. The best she could do was invite you and your…’uncle’, Lucifer Morningstar, to brunch while she was ‘conveniently passing through’ L.A. Explain who she was, what she did, and ask if she could ever call on them for help. 
She did, and once or twice you agreed. It soon became obvious that you were more likely to agree if Emilia were on the case as well, and the two of you became friends with a quickness that surprised you both. She knew your entire past, in both worlds, and in return you were one of the only people who knew hers. Probably as close as you would come to having a sister. 
“Just trying to wrap my head around the day I guess. Or,” you coughed, making a show of raising your voice even above the music, “OR trying to figure out if anyone wants to partake in some legal drugs and alcohol this evening because what the fuck just happened??”
The group collectively cheered and you smirked at Emilia, as if to prove everything were fine. She rolled her eyes at your blatant attempt to throw her off. 
Leota slid over, joining the huddle as soon as she saw the dreaded Harcourt eye roll. 
“Is it the dancing? Are you totally questioning your sexual taste over that dancing?” 
“OH MY GOD” you whisper yelled, channeling David a-la Schitt’s Creek. 
Adebayo laughed, “What? You’re the only one sitting here looking miserable after getting out of there in one piece, and since she couldn’t get you to crack I figured you were regretting your crush on-“ 
“I know what you’re-“ you cut her and yourself off, closing your eyes and stopping. 
Emilia doesn’t know where to start with her prying, and Leota had to go to straight to the one thing she didn’t want to talk about in such a close knit space. She wanted to talk about your hopelessly ridiculous crush on Adrian Chase. 
You fell pretty hard and pretty fast for someone who made absolutely no fucking sense. Emilia couldn’t make heads or tails of it. She was mortified. Not quite disgusted, she wasn’t blind, but she never believed in the ‘love at first sight’ thing. And neither did you, which only made how you felt, and how deeply you felt it, all the more confusing. 
You decided to fess up to your actual feelings before they could make any more guesses, “Honestly the scale of this thing is just weighing on me. Didn’t hit me until we saw the size of this operation, ya know?” 
They both looked momentarily deflated, but quickly bounced back shrugging, with Emilia shaking her head at you. 
“Okay see, you have to enjoy the moment.” Leota forced your shoulders down urging you to relax and speaking louder now, “I think we’re gonna do exactly what you said.”  
Economos snorted from the driver’s seat, “Drugs and alcohol?”
“Fuck yeah, I’m in.” From Chris, obviously. 
You hadn’t even realized the guys had tuned into the conversation once Leota spoke up. Economos shrugged like he was in but didn’t care, though you could tell he was excited. The only one still thinking was Adrian, and you looked at him waiting for an answer. Chris spoke up instead. 
“Dude, stop being weird about weed and just come, it’s legal, you gotta let it go and probably try it so you don’t keep being so fucking-“ 
“Alright, alright!” Adrian interrupted before Chris could keep going, he didn’t want to hear the rest of it. He looked at you.
“I’m coming but we need snacks. Come to 7-11 with me when we get back?” 
You smirked, “Adrian, I would love to.” 
He glared at you, “Are you being sarcastic?” 
“She’s not,” Harcourt said, “You two head out when we get back and I’ll text you a list.” 
The rest of the ride was spent with everyone shouting out snacks and drinks they like, don’t like, don’t like but might like while stoned, and it went on and on until John and Chris were fighting about Combos and there wasn’t anything resembling a list. You leaned into Adrian’s side, watching everything unfold.
“I think we have to make a run for it and just buy everything in 7-11.” She stage whispered near him and he smirked. 
“Yeah, there’s no way we can afford everything in 7-11.” 
You laughed in response and held up a wallet that was clearly not your own. You let it fall open for Adrian to see that you had picked Emilia’s pocket while she was trying to end the Great Combo Debate.
“You know that’s a crime.” He raised his eyebrows at you, you knew Adrian well enough to know that while he sounded like he was joking, he completely wasn’t.
“Actually it’s not,” you pulled out a generic looking credit card Adrian had never seen before, “Em has a card that gets comp’d by the job. And since this is a team event after nearly getting shredded by a gorilla, I think Waller can bankroll us tonight.” 
“In that case I’m gonna need two bags of each Skittles flavor just for me-” 
He went on, but you just bounced on your heels waiting for John to park. Everyone had a part; Chris and John were heading out to find a dealer Chris knew for some last minute party favors, Harcourt and Adebayo were on alcohol and set up duty, grabbing speakers from a dusty room in the back and throwing on a playlist.
You and Adrian were on your way to 7-11 when you realized that the ride had been unusually quiet. You weren’t totally sure what you were to Adrian, but you knew that he never had any shortage of things to say or questions to ask you. As soon as you had joined the team and they had been given a (loose) background of why you joined the team, Adrian had had an endless stream of questions for you. The team had given him a hard time about it, but you assured them you didn’t mind, not adding how adorable you found it. 
“What’s on your mind, Ade?” 
It struck you not for the first time that it was a good thing Vigilante’s mask was so concealing because you could read every thought that passed Adrian’s mind. He clearly weighed whether or not to tell the truth or make something up, you could see the moment he decided on the truth, and the moment that he braced himself play out in succession.
“I’m thinking about smoking with you guys to stop being annoying like Chris said, but it’s probably so gross and I’m gonna choke and then he’s just gonna make fun of me more and think I’m a lame best friend so then Adebayo is gonna be second under Eagley and third may as well not even count as a best friend.”
Everything was said in one running sentence and he kept his eyes straight ahead, but you could tell how worried he actually was about this. 
“Okay.” You took a deep breath-
“It’s fine, I was being stupid.”
“No, you’re not, let’s just talk it out. Seriously.” You looked right at him and he nodded. Pulling into the 7-11 parking lot, he parked and threw his seat belt off, turning to you and waiting. 
“First of all Ade, don’t smoke because of Chris. He’s just messing with you and once he starts partying he’ll forget he even said it.” 
Adrian nodded begrudgingly.
“Second, the only reason you should try tonight would be if you want to try it for yourself while you’re with friends who’ll look out for you in case it doesn’t go well. For all of his jokes I know Chris would look out for you if it actually came down to it. He’d make fun of you first, but he’d help.” You smirked at him, shrugging. 
Adrian took a deep breath and released it, immediately feeling lighter, but also a little scared. He told you it was Chris he was worried about, totally. It was, anyway, but then you sat there and walked through everything he said, one step at a time, in a way no one else ever does and he was able to make sense of things so the problem just…goes away? Crazy.
“I know you said I should only do it if I want to, but I wanna know if you think I should do it?” He asked you so genuinely, like it was a matter of life and death.
“Okay, how about this. I’ll try to explain what I like about it, and you can think about if you’d like that too and want to try.” He nodded and you took that as your sign to keep going, “I mean you know me Ade, I get anxiety about things I don’t even know if I should have anxiety about yet. Not to mention all the shit I’d much rather forget. I’m not saying smoking makes any of that go away, but it definitely puts me in a headspace where for a little while it doesn’t feel as heavy. It feels like I can really breath, and all of the good things just feel better too. It’s not like that for everyone, and it takes some getting used to, but that’s what I like about it.” 
You meandered towards the end of that sentence, suddenly feeling self conscious over how intently Adrian was staring at you and listening to your every word. He thought about what you said before very seriously stating, “Okay, I’m definitely a maybe.” and you couldn’t help but laugh.
“Let’s head in, gonna take a while to grab one of everything.” You joked, exiting the car with Adrian catching up to you. 
By the time you made it back to base Adrian wouldn’t let you help carry anything and asked you to send Chris and John out instead. He did, however, take the time to clarify that he wasn’t being sexist, he just knew you had carried enough out of 7-11 and Harcourt and Adebayo probably needed a break from their bickering.
He was way more aware than people gave him credit for, you decided making your way into the building.
“That was a pretty clean swipe but I’m gonna need my wallet back now.” Emilia help her hand out expectantly, smirking.
“‘Clean’ come on, you know you didn’t even notice, you can say so.” You rolled your eyes and passed the wallet back, leaving the receipt tucked in for her expense report. You looked around and laughed, “Do you think you guys got enough beer?” There were cases all over of several different types.
Leota shrugged, “Everyone likes something different and it’s not like we’re not gonna use it.” 
“That’s true, I just know once I smoke I’m going to start tossing those like I’m Stone Cold Steve Austin and no one will be able to talk sense into me.” 
The guys all came in dropping bags from 7-11 just in time to catch your last remark and Chris immediately agreed.
“FUCK YEAH WE HAVE TO-”
“OUTSIDE!” Emilia interrupted, “If you must be children, do. it. out. side.” 
“Yes, mom.” You rolled your eyes, quickly shaking your head at Chris and shooting him a warning glare from adding on to your statement. You could easily see him calling Emilia ‘mommy’ and getting this whole night canceled for everyone. 
“Need any help?” You turned to John who you were surprised to see getting a bong set up. Not exactly what you were expecting for a black ops team, but hey, who were you to judge. Lucifer used some surprising pieces too, after all. 
“Nah, pretty straightforward over here, but everyone agreed you’ll be getting first dibs.”
“Aw, thanks.” You weren’t all that surprised. As Emilia said, you not joining in the celebration was an odd sight, and not just to her. There was a silent agreement that you needed the nudge.
Everyone settled onto the floor surprisingly naturally. Once the adrenaline started fading a little and they had found their favorite snacks, the group found themselves casually arranged in a circle on the ground, throwing things at each other and debating the music choices. 
A loose order was formed once you decided to light the bong, with Adrian observing as the rest of the group (excluding Emilia) passed the herb around. After Chris lit more than he could handle you jumped in to help, pulling the bowl and laughing along with Chris. 
“So is there a way for like,” he nudged his glasses up his face and shrugged, “you can start it for me and I can just ya know, do that part at the end?” 
“Is he talking about a shotgun?” Economos foolishly asked while Chris burst into a grin. You looked to the two women for help, neither seeing any reason for your panic. 
“Why yes there IS a way to do that, and I’m sure Angel Cakes would be happy to help you out with it.” Chris eagerly nodded at you, making sure to drop the nickname he knew you couldn’t stand. 
“Chris don’t be ridiculous, we all know you two are close enough to do it.” Leota jumped in, ready to save you from your already weakening self control. 
“Well sure but he didn’t ask me he asked her, and probably cause he knows I might laugh right in his mouth and that would be-“ 
“Okay, enough, yeah, fuck it-“ you cut everyone off, getting a bit louder with each work, “I’m gonna shot gun Ade’s first hit, but everyone’s taking a shot first.” 
The group gave a salute and followed orders, proving that there were at least some things they could agree on as a team. 
“So what exactly does shotgun even mean for this, it’s not like shotgunning a beer otherwise why would you or Chris have to do it…?” Adrian was asking the questions to the group, but specifically you while you grabbed your lighter from Chris and motioned for Adrian to slow down. 
“I’m gonna light the bowl, take a deep breath, and hold all the smoke in my mouth.” He nodded for you to continue, “I’m going to turn to you and blow all the smoke into your mouth, so make sure you take a nice deep breath. Hold it for a while, and don’t let anyone be a bitch if you cough.” 
“Economos, this is what you thought I was asking for??” 
“Well you seem like you’re into some kinky shit so sure!” 
“I mean yeah but not with you!” Adrian caught himself and turned back to you “With him that is, not saying yes with you but not no either because any answer is inappropriate so-“ 
“Adrian,” you stopped him, “We’re here now. Just take a deep breath when I tell you, okay?” 
He nodded and you lit the bowl, saying a quick prayer that this wasn’t going to be the metaphorical rubber band snap that sent you crossing the lines of appropriate workplace boundaries with an off-the-books-anyway assassin. 
You went on as if everything were completely normal. As if Adrian weren’t watching your lips with the intense concentration usually reserved for something else entirely, deadly in a different sense. You pulled the bowl from the slider and grabbed Adrian’s chin, gesturing him to tilt and open his mouth, which he did surprisingly quickly. 
The first thing he noticed was that he did faintly taste your cherry soda, something he told himself wouldn’t happen, because surely the only taste he would be able to notice would be the weed he told himself he’d never try. It almost felt welcoming in a way he didn’t expect, it tasted familiar, and tasted like you, something he had been so curious about that he felt instantly calmed. Until he remembered the smoke in his lungs and urgently started coughing, smoke pluming out quickly. Expecting everyone to be laughing, he was pleasantly surprised to look up to see the team cheering, Chris coming over to clap him on the back.
Turned out to be exactly like you said, Adrian realized everything felt a little lighter. Problems that seemed insurmountable earlier…kind of seemed manageable now. 
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cheesewritings · 10 months
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Chapter 1: The Prodigal Daughter
Fortunate Son blasted from the stereo of the 67 Kaiser that rolled into Hawkins, Indiana. Eowyn was on a mission, given her orders from her father she needed to gather a few people to assist. Driving carefully around the ravines that split the once quiet town she knows the route very well. She’s headed to a remote cabin that once held many happy memories…until her father had to up and move them to DC with his promotion. She was 15 when they left Indiana and now at 20, she’s the youngest fighter pilot the Coalition has ever seen.
The music fades as she pulls into the gravel driveway of the cabin where she learned how to shoot a rifle, an unfamiliar bus sitting in the spot where her uncle’s Bronco usually sat parked. Eowyn shuts off the vehicle, grabs her go bag and makes her way to the deck only to be greeted by a very unfamiliar voice “Whoa dudette, state your name and your purpose here at this lovely forest abode.” “The name’s Hopper, Lieutenant Eowyn Hopper. I’m here to discuss the…uh…situation at hand.” She introduces herself formally hoping it provides a bit of leverage so the hippie in front of her will let her in. She stands up straight trying to make her 5’1” frame a bit more imposing to the man who stands at least one foot taller than herself. “Wait..Hopper?” a more familiar voice crescendos as they walk towards the door. “Winnie? Is that you? Shit man I haven’t seen you since I was in 7th grade.” “Times change Steven. We all have a role to play, I just happened to get mine a bit earlier than expected.” Eowyn cringes slightly at the use of her old nickname. She and Steve grew up on the same block. Turns out when your dad works for a secret government agency, you get to live in the nice part of town. Steve turns to the unfamiliar man in the doorway, “Argyle this is Eowyn Hopper. She’s Chief’s niece. Man will he be glad to see you. Come on in.”
Eowyn enters the room and heads turn towards her. Soon she is crushed under the familiar yet unfamiliar weight of one of her Uncle Jim's bear hugs. “Winnie, you’re here. Where’s your dad? Is he okay? What about your mom?” “She’s finally set down and released from her uncle’s embrace and answers “He’s fine. Mom’s fine. I’ve been sent here on orders.” “Orders?” a young voice questions. “You must be Henderson.” She smiles when he nods his head. “I have orders to bring you all with me to the base.” A woman the same age as her mother stands “Wait what base? You work for the government?” Another voice echoes the sentiment “We don’t trust the government here.” “Bauman shut your cake hole for two seconds.” Eowyn snaps. She takes a deep breath, composes herself and continues “It’s not necessarily the government per se. I mean…it’s sort of a part of the government but more underground. They know we exist but they also know they can’t touch us because we’re the best and we know their secrets.” “Wait are you asking us to join the coalition?” Chief asks.
“More like you’ve all been selected based on your skills and abilities.” Eowyn replies. The balding bearded man stands up “I told you they were watching us. I knew it!” Jim looks to Eowyn as if he is asking her to explain. “Like I said, we’re not necessarily the government but we do know their secrets. However, we know a bit more than they do and we simply choose not to disclose that information to them. The Coalition isn’t simply American based. We’re international. We handle things that traditional militaries can’t. Things that can’t be explained but can be covered up by a decent story and some crazy tabloids.” She explains.
Suddenly a small female voice joins the conversation, “is it anything like Papa and the rainbow room?” “You must be Jane…er..Eleven?” Eowyn asks unsure of what to call the young girl. “You can call me El.” She replies. “El, this is nothing like that. In fact we’ve been trying to stop him for years. At least, stop him from experimenting with children.” Eowyn explains, shivering at the thought of someone doing anything like that to an innocent child. Eleven looks at her curiously and then sits down as if giving Eowyn permission to continue. "I'm a little bit like you in the sense that I was trained to fight because I have natural capabilities that make me good at combat. When dad kept getting promotions in the Corps, they kept an eye on him and what he could do. That's when he got the call from Stinson and was asked to form an elite unit in order to bring Brenner down as well as handle some other things. This collection of fighters, engineers, technical analysts, and others is known simply as The Coalition of Ordered Governments, we call it the COG." Eowyn looks up at the adults in the room after finishing her story seeing Murray Bauman's eyes wide. "What Bauman? You think we didn't know you knew we existed? You're pretty high up on our list of potential operatives." Eowyn states. Hopper chuckles and looks to his niece, "So is your dad still ya know?" "Are you kidding? That man will literally challenge death to a poker game and win." she answers. "So are you guys in? If so, we need to load up and haul out. I've got to make a quick pit stop first on orders from someone back at base but we can head out in the morning." She asks. El looks at her adoptive father, then to the girl who is apparently her cousin, "I'm in." she declares. "Damnit Jim, you've got a little me on your hands don't you?" Eowyn asks. "Unfortunately." he grumbles with a slight smile at the memories of her childhood antics. "Alright then, gather the squad, prepare for departure at 0600." Eowyn orders. She heads out the cabin and to her jeep when she stops and suddenly says "I know you're behind me Harrington. What do you want?" "This is where you went?" he asks. "Yep. And now you get to join the crew. It's good to see you Harry Harrington." she responds. He grumbles at the old nickname from their childhoods. "Trust me, I have a feeling it's going to be worth it by coming to base." she answers, climbing into her jeep. She turns the key in the ignition and shifts into gear before peeling out of the driveway as Battery by Metallica plays on her mixtape.
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ffxiv-swarm · 7 months
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prompt 1: envoy
A messenger to the beast tribes. It should be a simple task, for one who’s slain gods. Simply deal with the yet-untempered Amal’jaa, those who have yet to do anything other than exist. She won’t even need to open her grimoire.
But she remembers Ifrit.
(The stench of burning flesh. Cruel, scaled grins. The fervent light of madness in their eyes. Watching bound and helpless as her fellow captives were fed to the god, finding her own strength at the very last moment, the smell of smoke that lingered for days in her hair afterwards—)
(Yes, she remembers Ifrit.)
And then, too...they are beasts, are they not? So say all the Eorzeans. They aren’t proper people, like she is a person. She’s pretty sure they lay eggs, even, and sleep on rocks like lizards, and the things they eat wouldn’t pass even the broadest definition of civilized fare. But nevertheless she’s said she will do it, and so she arrives in Little Ala Mhigo ready to keep her word.
That town carved out of the desert rock is...an experience. The people are plain and hardworking and not inclined to much conversation, but once they learn she’s not from the Ul’dahn government and in fact really is just there to help them with their Amal’jaa problem, one or two do open up to her. (Her offering of food smooths the way. It’s hard to resist a good rolanberry pie.) And once she asks about their local beastfolk...
“They’re not beasts,” snaps one man. “They’re not much different than the Ananta back home! ‘Tis only their god that drives them to evil.”
“The what,” she says, and that’s how she learns that in other places, places that aren’t Eorzea, the definition of a Spoken race is considerably broader, and in Ala Mhigo their local serpent women are known for their jewelry and not for their wanton slaughter.
It gives her a lot to think about. She’s still thinking when she arrives at the camp of the Amal’jaa known as the Brotherhood of Ash, whose forges light the night sky. But when she actually meets one, it drives all thoughts from her head.
She’s forgotten how big they are. Hamujj Gah, their leader, stands fulms above her, and his voice is a rumble that makes her ears pin back. He does not mince words when it comes to telling her how his people have suffered. How many of them are slaves to Ifrit, and even those who aren’t must still war with the Eorzeans instead of driving their herds from place to place, for every temporary camp is soon raided by Immortal Flames who think they are doing the Twelve’s work driving vermin from the land. Nobody stops to question why Ifrit is summoned so frequently, nor what drives them to offer their own people to the flame. Nobody remembers that the Amal’jaa are known for the steel and fine wool cloaks and carved gemstones that once filled Ul’dahn markets before the Syndicate decided it would be more profitable to ban them from the city.
Nobody thinks of them as anything other than beasts.
She’s seen the ruins of vast cities underneath the Shroud. She’s seen men and women with skin even less gray-tinged than her own harassed for their supposed “criminal tendencies.” She’s seen her own people wearing their root and vine tattoos proudly, daring anyone to make something of it. She’s dug through trash for shattered stone carved to translucency, relics of a Gelmorra that the city above has deemed an affront to their way of life. She’s looked at Hearers and thought of knives.
“I know how you feel,” she tells him.
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rhetoricandlogic · 2 months
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And What Can We Offer You Tonight: Dreamlike, angry horror
Posted by Marion Deeds
Premee Mohamed’s novella And What Can We Offer You Tonight (2021) is set in a drowning city where human life is not cheap — it’s worthless. If starvation, violence or disease doesn’t kill you, probably one of the routine government “culls” will, unless you are one of the uber-wealthy, living elsewhere and treating the city like a personal playground/hunting-ground, or a person who services the very wealthy. This leads us to Jewel, our first-person narrator, a courtesan in an elite, exclusive and very expensive “house,” the House of Bicchieri.
Jewel gets a portion of every client’s payment, and a share of any tips; it seems like she would have enough money to escape the “gilded cage” in which she lives, if she wanted to, but the courtesans must pay for their own food, room and clothing, as well as any extras like jewelry and perfume. They are fined if they make errors. Jewel has worked for the two overseers, Serpentine and Jasper, for eleven years — when, for the first time ever, she misses an appointment, her “fine” unsurprisingly totals the exact balance in her account — which Serpentine and Jasper manage. This is terrible, but Jewel has bigger things on her mind. Winfield, one of the other courtesans and Jewel’s friend, was killed by a client, but she’s come back, and she’s alive. Kind of, anyway. And she wants vengeance.
And What Can We Offer You Tonight is hard to classify. The obvious horror element — a risen dead girl — didn’t feel like horror to me, because, like Jewel, I was on Win’s side. The entire economic structure of the drowning city is horrifying; Jewel’s life is horrifying. I guess that qualifies as horror. In fact I’m going to go with gothic horror. No, wait — dystopian gothic horror. Is that redundant? Tough, I’m sticking with it.
The story is even difficult to categorize by length. It comes in just under 19,000 words. I’d call it a novelette, but the publisher, Neon Hemlock, says it’s a novella. Who am I to argue?
I’ve dithered about what the story isn’t, so let me talk about what it is. It’s beautiful, with the beauty of a disturbing and vivid dream. It’s creepy — in fact, I think “creepy beauty” is Mohamed’s trademark. It’s witty. It’s angry, and it’s angering, as Jewel ponders the imbalance of power, the manipulation, valuelessness of her life, Win’s life and the lives of her friends. It’s suspenseful. Jewel fears that Win’s plan for vengeance will endanger her and the others, and soon it does.
What’s particularly disturbing and maddening is how thoroughly Jewel has internalized the bars of her cage. Even when she sees how they are being driven to turn on one another, she can’t quite stop herself from doing it too, even if she hates herself for it.
Just because the word count is low doesn’t mean And What Can We Offer You Tonight is a fast read. You’ll want to slow down to absorb the imagery, and the layers of horror at work here. It’s possible that Jewel delivers more internal monologues than she needs to about the nightmarish existence these characters face, because Mohamed depicts it so perfectly — and chillingly — in everyday scenes. She also shifts to the phantasmagorical with the grace of an Olympic ice skater, as in the early scene of the courtesans creating a funeral rite for Win.
Mohamed offers a fairly mundane vengeance tale set against a dark, haunting background, and pulls it off. The story is well-served by its publisher who provided, for the paperback anyway, a lush, dark cover that creates curiosity, and in retrospect, evokes the story nicely.
I read this through in one sitting because I wanted to know what would happen, and because I was lapping up the weird and gorgeous imagery. It’s my fond hope that And What Can We Offer You Tonight finds its way into the hands of people who love works that defy category, and appreciate it for whatever it is.
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bobbiworks · 3 months
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Beyond the Bell's Chimes | Part 44
The weather was a downpour. It had been raining all weekend, and it didn't seem to have plans to stop for the entire month. The students had grown tired of the gloomy, wet weather, and it was affecting their health the most.
"Dad, are you sure you're going to drive in this weather? It's too dangerous. And Woojae's class is also canceled," Jiwoo said while preparing breakfast for them. Woojae had just come downstairs after wearing his uniform, and her mom was fixing their clothes. Things had changed over time in her family. As the fact that Jiwoo was going to college very soon, her parents had become worried about the expenses. Her mom had grown ill as well, with constant pain in her back, and had to stop baking for her uncle's cafe. It was only then her dad became the main provider of the household. Although Jiwoo was saving up for her college by working part-time, it wasn't enough to keep her parents feeling relieved.
"It'll be fine. It'll cost a lot if I ride the taxi," Mr. Shim said while reading the newspaper. "I can't skip a day because I am applying for a promotion. When I get it, we won't worry about your college." He smiled, giving Jiwoo assurance.
"But you know, I can apply for a scholarship," she said sternly. "A local college will do, dad. I need not go to a prestigious school in the city…"
"Jiwoo, we already talked about this," her mom said gently. "We want you to shine. Going to a local college won't give you enough opportunities than those famous ones. You don't have to worry about the expenses, okay? Your dad and I are doing our best."
"Fine," Jiwoo sighed in defeat. "But it won't stop me from working part-time, okay? I can manage it all. I can help pay for Woojae's school fees."
"Save it," her dad said. "It's yours. Don't make us feel that we are lacking." He said, and Jiwoo exactly knew what he meant.
"Alright. But be careful in driving!" She warned him as her dad was getting ready to leave. She felt anxious that she decided to just grab some sandwiches and followed him behind. "Can I join you then?"
"Have you eaten breakfast?" Her dad asked.
"I can eat on the way, dad. Besides, Woojae can eat by himself. Right, mom?" Jiwoo asked, earning a nod from her mom. "I'll go with dad. I'll be back at 8 tonight." She said and went to the garage to get in the car.
The rain was heavy, and she wondered why the government hadn't announced anything about the bad weather. She wondered if people actually went to school despite the danger it gives traveling on the road. Jiwoo was riding in the front passenger seat, securing herself with a seatbelt and also making sure that her dad was following basic rules.
"Jeez, this is going to be difficult," he said as he slowly drove the car out of their garage. He was slowly driving the car out of the neighborhood. He could barely see what was in front, but he was sure nothing was on their way. "I should take the other exit to get to your school real quick."
"Okay, dad. I am watching on this side. Just drive slowly," she said. She didn't like what she was currently feeling. Her dad was a good driver, careful the most, but despite how good her dad was, how much he prioritized safe driving, there would be other people who would recklessly drive on the road, causing havoc to the other vehicles.
"Dad, I have a bad feeling. Can we just go home? I can call my teacher about the weather," she said as he reached for his arm, though they were almost at her school.
"We are almost there," he assured her, and he was right. It didn't take long before they finally reached the school gates, but they noticed that the students were running outside instead of going in. She then spotted Eunseok walking out of the school gates alone. His shoulders were drenched, his pants were wet up to his knees. "Dad, wait!" she said and pulled down the car window and called Eunseok.
"Eunseok-oppa!" Jiwoo called. It took her a few tries before Eunseok heard her faint voice and turned to his right. His face lit up when he saw her and carefully walked towards her. "What's going on? Why is everybody outside?"
"Didn't you hear? School is canceled for the meantime. There is a big typhoon coming," he said, and just as he mentioned it, a strong wind blew towards them, causing his umbrella to break and fly away. The rain had become thick and strong that Eunseok almost instantly got drenched.
Jiwoo immediately opened the car door and pulled Eunseok inside to keep him safe, and he quickly locked the door. "Dad, can we go back home?" she asked, and her dad immediately started the engine and drove back home. They were glad that their neighborhood had a lot of shortcuts to avoid the traffic, and they arrived home in no time.
Jiwoo's dad went to call in at his work, telling his boss that he couldn't make it because of the weather. He sounded dismayed about it, but the weather was too strong that he could only think of protecting his family for now. Eunseok was with them, quietly standing by the door, waiting for Jiwoo to bring him a dry towel. When she came back, she ushered him to Woojae's room to keep warm for a while as she looked for her dad's clothes that could fit him. Eunseok looked around the room and saw photos of Jiwoo and her brother all plastered on the wall. He even noticed the photo of Woojae and Wonbin hanging out in their house.
"I am sorry; my dad's quite big," Jiwoo came back with her dad's unused shirt and pants. "You can leave your clothes in the basket, and I'll dry them out." She smiled.
"No, it's okay. I can just call my driver to pick me up," Eunseok said as he tried to get up, but Jiwoo frowned at him, making him sit back.
"You could have called your driver before you walked out of the school," she said, causing Eunseok to realize his mistake. He apologized and humbly took her father's clothes and got up. "Is the bathroom this way?" He asked, and Jiwoo nodded, reminding him of his wet clothes.
Eunseok came out wearing Jiwoo's dad's clothes, a towel on his head as he continued to dry it. He saw Jiwoo leave her brother's room with the basket filled with Eunseok's clothes. He quietly followed her to the laundry area, where they passed by the kitchen. Her mom was cooking something, while her father was in his office just across the living room, and her brother was busy watching cartoons. Though he noticed them all, he found himself following Jiwoo still as she quietly did a chore so naturally with her hair tied in a messy bun. She had changed into her comfortable clothes with unmatched socks. Eunseok smiled, amused, as he could watch her forever.
Then he felt a tug on his shirt and looked down to see her brother holding onto the hem of his shirt. "Are you noona's new boyfriend?" Woojae asked, making Eunseok confused a bit before he crouched down to pick up the kid.
He smiled and tapped Woojae's nose and shook his head, answering the boy's question. "I am just a friend," he said.
"Woojae! Why are you making him carry you? You are already big to be carried on." Jiwoo saw the two and began to speak loudly, startling Eunseok as he quickly put Woojae down. She sighed, "Why are you here? Go sit at the dining table, oppa." She said as she tugged his arm, dragging him to the table. "I am washing your clothes and it will take half an hour to finish so wait here as I make you something to eat. Have you eaten?" She asked.
"Well, what time is it now?" He asked and saw the wall clock to only see it was only eight in the morning. "Jeez, it hasn't been that long." He sighed but suddenly sneezed. He was shocked to do that; he rarely gets sick in his life, that he even looked at Jiwoo in shock, unable to believe that he just sneezed. "I think I am human."
Jiwoo chuckled, her brows furrowed not understanding what he meant by being human. "Are you saying that you are human because you are sick?" She asked, casually placing her hand on his forehead and compared it to hers. "Hmm, you are quite feverish." She said as she pulled away, "You don't mind if I make you some porridge, do you?" She asked.
"It's okay. I can really just call my driver—" Eunseok said but then was cut off by her dad who came to the dining room to give her a basket of vegetables he pulled out from their mini garden. "I won't decline if I were you," He told Eunseok, then whispered. "Just let her be." He said and left.
"Dad, what are you talking about?" Jiwoo frowned and turned to Eunseok, who was unsure of what to do in that moment. She then poured him some citrus tea that she made earlier to keep her warm from the rain. "Here, drink this to warm up. It'll take time to finish cooking. You can take a nap if you want." Jiwoo said as she wore an apron. The sight was making Eunseok's heart race that he started to think that she was completely wife material.
"Woojae, can you be kind and lend him some pillows and a blanket from your room?" She asked Woojae across the living room. The boy did not respond; instead, he stood up and ran to his room. After a few minutes, he came back carrying two pillows and a blanket. He placed it on the couch. "Wow, thanks, Woojae. Why don't you go watch TV in my room instead, hmm? Noona's going to take care of her friend for a while."
"Can I go draw on your sketchpad?" He asked, and Jiwoo nodded.
"But, don't touch the unopened colored pens. Okay?" She said, and Woojae nodded excitedly. She then noticed Eunseok had been smiling at her the entire time. She raised a brow as she frowned at him, "What are you smiling at?"
"You are cute," Eunseok answered, making her blush with his sudden comment.
Jiwoo didn't want to be complimented any time of the day, so she dropped the knife she was holding and led him to the living room. "My parents are in their room, and Woojae will be sleeping in my room. We are not expecting any visitors in this weather, so get some rest until you recover," she said as she set the pillow on the couch. She made sure that the blankets were clean, then she quietly complimented her brother for bringing a clean one.
"It is just a cold," Eunseok insisted. "I am naturally healthy."
"Please don't be stubborn, oppa," she sighed. Eunseok noticed the slight change in her attitude, but he was thankful that she remained his friend. He was sure that his feelings for her never left; he just learned how to live with it without pursuing her.
"Okay, Jiwoo. I'll be good," he smiled as he laid on the couch comfortably. It was surprisingly warm as he wrapped himself in a blanket. Jiwoo tucked him in but went to check his temperature with a thermometer that she took from the medicine cabinet in the kitchen and placed it in his armpit. "Keep it still, and I'll check it in five minutes," she smiled and patted his chest before leaving to prepare the ingredients for the porridge.
The sound of the kitchen becoming alive made Eunseok smile as he watched the rain fall outside by the window. It was not his first time visiting Jiwoo's place. There were occasions when her friends would gather at her house from time to time, eat pizza, and play with Woojae, but going there alone was the first. Eunseok grew up in a big house, with parents who were attentive despite being strict; he grew up well, but Jiwoo's house was more than that. It was small yet cozy. "You know I still like you, right?" he confessed. He didn't want to sound serious, but it was true.
"Haha, very funny," Jiwoo replied, not taking it seriously while she chopped some carrots. "Do you like mushrooms?" she asked.
"Yes," he replied casually, burying himself in the warm covers.
"Can you check your temperature, oppa?" Jiwoo asked, quietly sneaking behind him as she watched him pull out the thermometer and read, "36.7 degrees.." he said, but she grabbed it from him, and it was actually 38 degrees Celsius.
"Tsk. Why do you sound okay?" she asked him as she walked back to the kitchen to fetch him a basin of cold water and a wet clean cloth. She came back and placed it on the floor before soaking the cloth wet and squeezed it dry as she gently dabbed it on his face and neck.
"Because I am a consistent man," Eunseok replied with a grim smile.
"Can't you be more serious?" she frowned. "You're running a fever, and you are making jokes, still?" She began to scold him, but the more she spoke, the more Eunseok's heart fluttered.
Eunseok chuckled, "Do you want me to act weak?" he asked, which made Jiwoo fall quiet, and she simply pressed the cold wet cloth on his face. She got up and went to continue preparing the porridge in the kitchen. Eunseok was wide awake, and it was the only time he could talk to Jiwoo without being bothered by Sungchan or Seunghan.
"Has he contacted you?" he suddenly asked, making Jiwoo pause for a bit. Another question about Wonbin. She was growing tired of the same question day by day.
"He has no reasons to contact me. I broke up with him so that he can live his best life," she explained, her tone was upsetting.
"Are you living your best life, then?" he asked. "Because, from what I can see, you are holding yourself… from everything," he added. "Well, I am not saying this because I like you, but I am saying this as a friend… and it is not only me who thinks that way."
"So how should I live then? I am not someone who can simply become adventurous to relieve this pain, or become spontaneous—"
"What I am trying to say is, move on," Eunseok said, this time he got a bit upset. It seemed like Jiwoo has become more pessimistic about life. "Or, if you miss him… try to contact him."
"Can you please stop talking about him?" Jiwoo's voice was loud yet faint that Eunseok got up when he heard a metal fall on the floor, thinking it was a knife and it could hurt her. He was so quick that it surprised Jiwoo, causing her to take a step back and almost fall, but Eunseok caught her hand and pulled her close to him. The moment was quick, yet it was so long for them as they both looked into each other's eyes.
"Are you okay?" Eunseok asked. Jiwoo immediately pushed him away and composed herself for a bit before she pushed him back onto the couch. "Seriously, are you okay?"
"Shut up," Jiwoo snapped. "Can you just get some rest? I can't finish cooking because you keep talking!"
"Fine," Eunseok sighed. He saw the tears in her eyes as she tried to cover it with her frown and cold attitude towards him. "I am really going to sleep," he said.
"Whatever," Jiwoo scoffed and continued to chop the vegetables. It didn't take long when Eunseok actually fell asleep on the couch, and he even snored so loud. She thought it was her dad, but her dad came out of his office to get some coffee and even pointed at Eunseok, who was sleeping sound.
"Did you tell your boss about him, dad?" Jiwoo asked, and her father shook his head sideways. He didn't want Eunseok's personal life to be involved in his work, as the boy had his freedom to do whatever he wanted to do. "Okay."
"I don't mean to pry, honey," her dad quietly spoke as he was reaching for the coffee grounds on the cupboard. "It's been a while since you dated. If you are lonely, why don't you start dating again?"
"Dad, we talked about this," she sighed. Her feelings for Wonbin didn't easily fade, as she was still thinking about him. "Only time will tell."
"Well, you have good guys lining up for you," her dad teased, making Jiwoo sigh in annoyance but thanking her dad for being supportive. Dating was never her priority after breaking up with Wonbin; besides, there were more important things to do than dating. She needed to get to the best university and earn a scholarship.
Eunseok woke up when he felt cold water dampening his face. He did not open his eyes, as he knew who it was, and he simply held her soft hand; her wrist was so small and fragile. "You're awake," Jiwoo's voice lingered in his senses that he could only hum as he placed her hand on his chest. If only he could make this moment longer until he was satisfied, but Jiwoo immediately pulled away.
"Your temperature has gone down," she added as she was washing the cloth once more with cold water to wipe his neck and hands. She was glad that Eunseok did not get sick for so long, but she was worried that the rain won't stop any time today, and he would probably be stranded in her humble house. She didn't want Eunseok to sleep on the couch, knowing his background. It could be uncomfortable. "I made chicken porridge," she smiled, "It is warm enough for you to eat," she said while preparing the meal on the coffee table.
Eunseok got up and sat on the floor as he stared at the meal she prepared. She could not remember the last time she cooked for him; it was always Wonbin or sometimes Seunghan who often visited her. Eunseok's eyes were quite puffy from his fever, but he sure has a lot of energy and can still move normally, unlike her, who gets entirely zombified if she was sick.
"I hope it is to your liking," she asked as she sat next to him, watching him scan the food.
"This is my first time tasting your food," Eunseok confessed, "That's why I am trying to take a picture with my mind before I eat it."
She sighed, "Just eat it." She tried to be annoyed, but deep inside, she was flustered.
"You sure you did not poison this?" he teased, and she did not say a word and grabbed the bowl from the table, but Eunseok immediately held it back as careful as he could, chuckling. "I'm kidding, I'm sorry. Okay?" he chuckled.
"You are so annoying," she huffed and let go of the bowl. Eunseok began to eat and complimented her cooking, which made her smile a bit.
"It's delicious. I've never had porridge in my entire life, so I am very happy to taste this," he smiled at her, not knowing that he had a rice grain in the corner of his right cheek. Jiwoo had the instinct to wipe it off with her thumb, only to realize that it was not Wonbin she was taking care of but Eunseok.
"Are you trying to make my heart flutter because you are doing great," Eunseok began to tease her once more. She was blushing profusely that she threw a pillow at him.
"The rain won't stop—" Jiwoo tried to divert his attention to the weather outside. "Are you going home in this weather?"
"Well, my parents will be worried if I don't come home," he replied as he was cleaning up his bowl. "I know you want to get rid of me as soon as possib—"
"It's not like that," Jiwoo cut him off. "It's just that it is dangerous outside to go out, and I have been anxious since this morning," she sighed, hugging her knees as she hid half of her face behind it.
"I don't want to abuse your family's kindness," he assured her.
"You can sleep in Woojae's room," Mrs. Shim was overhearing their conversation while she was stitching clothes in her husband's office.
"Mom," Jiwoo sighed, quite amused and annoyed at her parents' support when it comes to her love life.
"If that is okay," Eunseok smiled.
"Definitely, okay. Eunseok!" Mrs. Shim smiled, "If you want, you can give your parents a call before you stay, just in case they insist on having you home."
"Okay, Mrs. Shim," Eunseok smiled before turning to Jiwoo, who had no expressions on her face. She then gave him some tablets to help ease his fever for good. He took it all in one gulp and cleared it with warm water. He then sat back on the couch and was about to take the dishes back to the kitchen, but Jiwoo got on it first. He got up and took the dishes from her and gently pushed her aside, "Let me do the dishes. I can do it."
"You are sick, and you need to rest," she said, insisting on doing the chore.
"I can't stand not doing anything. Please?" he asked, and it took a few seconds for Jiwoo to let him be and went to the other side of the kitchen to wipe the dishes dry. "Is Seunghan planning something?" He suddenly asked, making Jiwoo confused about what he was meaning to say. "I mean, is he trying to make your friendship more than that?"
Jiwoo's face turned red as she instantly knew what Eunseok meant, and for once, she had never thought of seeing Seunghan more than just a friend. She loved Seunghan as a friend. "Why is it you are asking?"
"Because, I am going to win your heart," Eunseok said, the way he said those were so natural, without stutter, without a pause. He sounded like he has been thinking about it for so long.
"I told you, I don't like jokes like that." She said, Eunseok turned to her, a sweet smile plastered on his lips. "Ya, Song Eunseok!" She yelled.
He chuckled finding her adorable with her reaction, "Dropping honorifics while being embarrassed," He commented, "Cute." He said, and Jiwoo angrily walked out of the kitchen with her beet red face.
Later that night, the rain did not stop, and Eunseok had called his parents that he will be staying at a friend's house for the night and will be back in the morning. He was preparing Woojae's bed, pulling out the cushions to place on the floor as he could not fit in the boy's bed. The boy gave him some of his stuffed animals for Eunseok's comfort as the latter was patting the sheets smooth.
"Are you noona's boyfriend?" Woojae suddenly asked making Eunseok smile as he reached for the boy. Woojae was young, but he was a keen observer of his surroundings.
"I am your sister's friend," He answered gently.
"Do you like Jiwoo-noona?" The boy asked again, it made Eunseok bite his lips and nodded quietly. "Can you make her happy? I don't like noona when she is sad."
"Well, I'll do my best, but I think a friend of mine can make her happier," Eunseok explained, referring to Wonbin. "But I am not sure how,"
"Wonbin-hyung did not return for her. I don't want him. I want someone who is always here for noona." Woojae insisted, but his voice was loud that Jiwoo overheard their conversation from the other room that she marched to their door and yelled at him. "Ya! Shim Woojae! Stop talking this instant!" Woojae ran away almost immediately from the room leaving Eunseok and Jiwoo alone again.
"Please, don't take anything Woojae told you," She said, waving her hand dismissively. Eunseok got up and looked at her, as he could not get enough of looking at her with his heart fluttering like crazy. "He's just worried about me and all, after all, he's my brother–" Her words were stopped when he walks towards her and gently pat her head.
"You'll be alright, Jiwoo." He said with the most endearing smile, his eyes were soft as he looked at her with so much affection, if only he could let himself control his body, he would have hugged her, but he sure knew his boundaries.
"Of course, I am alright." She frowned.
"I wanted to hug you but," Eunseok spoke, holding himself from saying the rest of his words. Jiwoo's eyes were somehow anticipating his words but he could only feel sadness and exhaustion in it. She looked different from the first time he met her; she was fully of energy and hope. He smiled and continued to pat her head. "I want it to be special," He said.
"Whatever," She said and went to press her hand on his forehead. "It's almost gone," She said, "You'll be fine in the morning."
"I will," He smiled at her and took a step back. "You should go to your room now. I am going to rest."
"Okay, good night, Eunseok." She nodded and gently closed the door as she walked outside of the room. Eunseok sighed and gently dabbed his chest as he wasn't able to control his heart pounding hard inside since she came in. He looked down the floor and saw the bed calling for him.
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anthonybialy · 7 months
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We Are in Their Debt
I could write a weekly debt column.  It’s not like the government’s about to start clipping coupons.  The biggest editing challenge would involve ensuring a sum that's beyond gargantuan gets updated to the frightening level that second.  That many digits are bound to look indistinguishable.    The total is already out of date as soon as it’s recorded.  Blame Washington for obsolete data.
Unfathomable is an understatement.  It’s amazing that humans don’t spend every moment shrieking in terror about existence’s unknown aspects.  Astute observers feel the same way about an impossibly bloated government consuming productivity.  The difference is we can vote for politicians to stop pretending that another frittered trillion will unlock the universe’s secrets.
Checking just how frightening that many numbers looks isn’t scaring enough voters.  Relying on the public not worrying about an incomprehensible black hole is also why nobody learns about astrophysics.  Listing how much the government has borrowed looks like trying to calculate pi.
Washington does such horrid work that people can’t even contemplate the inefficiency, which is almost a clever style of perpetration.  The strategy of letting a problem get so out of hand that there’s no thought of addressing it must be responsible.
Mathematics remains opposed.  The cruelty of subtraction hurts the feelings of Democrats who show how much they oppose greed by confiscating what others make.  That step is a natural precursor to thinking money fixes everything, which is also why the useless loathe capitalism.  Contempt is based in a conflict with reality that sure seems to happen a lot when the professional spending party raises their own spending limit.
I wish there were a way to show how much government sucks like by noting how little we get.  You just have to notice what isn’t there.  Unfortunately, there are plenty of examples of nothing.  Patronize Sam’s Club and see how much you can fit on a rolling pallet to make asset forfeiture seem like even more of a ripoff.
Government scamming relies on never showing you receipts or what’s been purchased.  Democrats claim we can’t see results unless they get a little more of our money and autonomy.  That’s one approach to consistency.
The other defining characteristic of those ruining everything is how they insist stopping them will ruin everything.  Sophisticated liberals shrieking about society’s end if spending drops to levels seen a few iPhones ago.  Radical conservatives noted society functioned not long ago without incessant intervention.  In fact, things worked entirely better by any sane observation.  But then we couldn’t waste 14 figures at a time.
You’re surely adoring government involvement in every aspect, which means taxpayer money since that apparently needs to be stated.  The approach to profligacy divides the ignorant into two debate camps.
Arguers either think the federal cash spigot cannot legally be subjected to a drought or that rich bastards not only deserve to have their earnings grabbed but will continue to work diligently to fund late Amtrak trains instead of buying what they’d like.  Science can source where money comes from.  Naturally, Democrats get it wrong despite risibly preening about being the only ones who know.
Services are costly, but at least they’re lousy.  Did I mention they’re coerced?  Anyone who thinks schools, health care, or retirement are in fine shape shouldn’t be trusted to determine which direction the clock is rolling.
Prosperous individuals couldn’t help on their own or anything.  Until free will is acknowledged, we get to observe that financial intervention causes the problems it claims to alleviate.  Try spending a trillion less and see if the economy ticks upward.  Shrieking about fewer library books and parents buying lunches for their own children is how some cope with slightly less dependency.  Getting one’s own products once the economy improves is a nightmare too horrifying to ponder.
Crashing into another wall is not fixing the car.  You can try once more to see if knocking pieces loose increases range, but commitment to science indicates patterns.  We cannot continue in a vehicle that’s stalled and also aflame.  Plugging in will not help.
Ghastly austerity would mean squandering a bit less.  Pecuniary sensibility may take the form of spending as little as we did in the ancient era of 2006.  Manic consumption is out of hand if the years when it was merely preposterous seem frugal by comparison.
Spinning down the odometer is an unreachable objective, at least if you heed the warnings of political sophisticates who scoff at primitive constitutional limits.  Presuming the key to quality is to remove competition and accountability is the sort of idea that requires treating debate the same way.
Eh, just throw some more cash around.  The hive’s petty cash is looted from jerks who did nothing to deserve it but earn it.  There's nothing your rulers fear like people realizing the extent of getting ripped off all this time to buy so little.  The reasonable goal of wasting less of our seized money on our behalf would wreck us, according to mathematical foes disregarding how frittering more than the supply is doing that right this moment.
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fuckassmcgee · 3 years
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Unpopular opinion but covid took away literally everything I loved about life and the only thing stopping me from going out and putting people at risk is the fact that theres nowhere to go and nothing to do
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