#only for them to turn up months later in the middle of a crisis | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nuka-cherries · 5 months

Text

Sweet Like Honey

Fandom: The Bear (2022) Pairing: Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Aurora Saltillo (oc)

A double Michelin star(s) award winning pastry chef, Aurora Saltillo is adjusting to a complicated world without her mother and without Mikey. Just when she is barely starting to see process in The Beef, Carmy takes over and enters her life again.

Carmy, the same rival from culinary school. Carmy, the same cold-hearted bastard from New York City who took her dream job. Carmy, the same one who ultimately broke Mikey's heart.

Simply said, Aurora can't stand Carmy; Carmy can't stand Aurora. And now, they have to work together.

It only gets more complicated from there. \\\ Latina OC.

Lindsey Morgan as Aurora Saltillo.

Thank you @thatone-brightstar for the cheering! ily!

Spotify soundtrack here!

AO3 Link here!

Lindsey Morgan as Aurora Saltillo | Ming-Na Wen as Ming Saltillo

Aurora Saltillo contemplated every decision she had made up to that point in time.

Carmy was not a bad person. But when he got serious, he got serious. For Aurora, cooking and baking was fun. It was her joy. She made her own quinceañera cake when she turned fifteen. She catered meals for her family. Growing up with a Mexican biological mother and a Chinese adoptive step mother, she fully embraced both cultures and proudly incorporated both into her cooking.

That was, until she disappeared for two years following a personal crisis and a major breakdown after her mother’s diagnosis. And COVID. Can’t forget that. At least at The Beef, no one questioned her disappearance. They were there for her, unlike the culinary scene in New York. The Beef had her back.

Between losing her mother a month before Mikey’s suicide, there was too much going on for her to process anything.

Now, the kitchen was cleaned up and it has calmed down. Well, more like it had burned out.

Today was a fucked up day and those did not happen very often.

Aurora was too amped up on adrenaline to cry in the freezer. She was too devoted to Mikey to leave. Mikey should be in the kitchen, cooking with them, calming everyone the hell down and cracking jokes and being silly.

So, she numbly took a step back, looking at the recipe for pure disaster.

One energy drink, two stars, three major breakdowns and four tragedies later, Aurora found herself here. In the middle of the aftermath of an angry kitchen. The online orders got fucked up. Everything got fucked up.

Syd walked out. Marcus walked out. Everyone was angry. Richie was bleeding. Everyone was pissed off. But ultimately, the day was over and they could all go home and leave the stress behind.

Syd was not answering Aurora’s texts. Marcus sent her to voicemail.

It was a fucked-up day.

But at least there was tomorrow.

Aurora had cussed out Carmy in the kitchen once the last order was done. She kept it together. Then the onions had to happen. She fucked up an onion. She almost walked out. But she remembered where she was. She remembered who she was.

And she cussed Carmy out to the point even his ancestors must have felt the shame.

She was angry. They were both angry. Frustrated. Hurt.

Richie tried to lead her to the cooler and tried to have her sit there for twenty minutes. She only made it for five. She was too angry to even feel the cold.

“Nothing smart to say this time?”

Here we go…

It was going to be one of those exits, it seemed.

“Plenty,” Aurora said flatly. “Today was a fucked up day, Carm.”

“Don’t need the reminder.”

He did.

“No, you fucking do,” Aurora said. “You had two amazing chefs walk out on you today. Be lucky you didn’t lose three.”

“You were going to walk out too?”

“I was tempted.”

“Well, chef of the year goes to you.” Carmy exhaled the smoke.

Somehow, that was what got to Aurora.

“You know what? Do me a favor—no, do us all a favor—and go home, get the fattest fucking blunt, smoke it and chill the fuck out,” Aurora snapped. “Today was a fucked up day and your shitty attitude is what drove everyone apart. Mistakes happen! It happens! But you’re too much of a fucking egoistical perfectionist to realize it.”

“Yeah, I get it.”

Aurora ran out of steam. She let out a huff. “Fine.” She turned on her heels and began to talk to the train station.

“Wait.”

“What is it?”

“Marcus’s donut. It was…” Carmy trailed off. “It was good.”

A really weird olive branch.

“Of course, it was. Marcus made it.” Aurora tightened her coat. “Goodnight, Carmy.”

On a rough day like this, Mikey would have hugged her. Told her it was okay. He would have reassured her that everything was fine and to cool off in the cooler so she could get cooler.

Boy, did she sob at Mikey’s funeral.

She was broken. Everything was broken. Her best friend, lost and gone. The one who called her Rora. The one who called her the Little Lion, who liked to roar. Marcus held her in his arms for comfort and so she would not collapse again. Her mom, widow, held Richie’s arm.

She did not connect the dots about Carmy being the same Carmen from New York City, nor the same asshole from culinary school while at the funeral. She was too busy crying. She couldn’t compose herself for Richie’s sake, as much as she tried to tell herself to do so. All that was on her mind was Mikey. All she could process was Mikey. All she could think of was Mikey on the cold table.

Richie didn’t blame her either.

At his apartment after the service, she curled up with him on the couch on his lap, held each other in silence. Watched the Blackhawks game on low volume. Both of their eyes were swollen from crying. Throats numb from the sobs. He merely held her. Mourning for the same man who should have been alive. She fell asleep like that.

She woke up to Richie talking to Marcus in the middle of the night. About how he was worried about Aurora. About how he was in shock and felt like an endless nightmare.

Mikey stressed about The Beef. She knew that. She was the one sitting on Mikey’s desk trying to crunch the numbers on her calculator app on what supplies they could get in bulk from the dollar store. The Lion Perch, as she called it. She was an optimist. She was the one who was trying to fix it all alongside him.

She was the one who was with Richie when they identified the body too.

A month later, she returned to work at the Beef to Carmy trying to fix everything. The same Carmy who took her dream job. The same Carmy who despised her in culinary school.

Just like in New York City, Carmy was making it worse.

Her mom was in the kitchen watching the telenovela when Aurora got home.

“Ma, I’m home!” She loudly greeted.

“Hey baby!” Her mom greeted. “Dinner is ready. I made sesame beef.”

Aurora loved making dinner. It was one of her favorite meals to make, next to breakfast. But sometimes, her mom took over and unexpectedly made it. She said it was to vary the flavor. But Aurora knew it was to try to take the weight off her chest.

But her mom cooked something. She actually cooked!

This was a win. This was a big win. Her mom rarely cooked after her mama’s funeral.

“Fuck yeah! How was work?”

“Shit,” her mother said simply. “But I survived. What about you?”

It was horrible. I miss Mikey. I miss mom.

Instead, Aurora shrugged and laid her head on her mom’s shoulder. “I made it through.” She sat down at the kitchen table. “Come on, ma. I do not want to miss this part.” She gestured to sit next to her.

At least there was tomorrow.

#esme makes a text post #sweet like honey fic #the bear #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x oc

16 notes · View notes

avionvadion · 4 months

Note

Also, something just occurred to me and I started cackling really hard. Like yes, Inuyasha is going to be super protective of his sis-in-law, but I can already recognize the sheer crisis of interest and trouble with processing he'll have when he finds out Irene is PREGNANT. By SESSHOMARU. It's SESSHOMARU'S kid. Irene is going break her lil bro-in-law's brain and he won't have his emotional support Kagome there to help him yet. Poor Sango's probably gonna be caught in the middle of this. 😂

Miroku is going to be Inuyasha’s therapist throughout the whole thing, but at the same time be the WORST person to ever talk to about that subject because he’ll go way into detail and start wondering about Sesshomaru/Irene’s steamy night in the forest. Inuyasha is going to be in such strong denial, and it’s even funnier because HE’S THE ONE WHO FIGURES IT OUT FIRST.

Straight up, a couple weeks to a month after the festival, Irene is gonna be helping Sango and Miroku with Kin’Gyo and Inuyasha is gonna walk up to chat with them, stop, freeze, grow horrified, and just stare at Irene before pointing and going, very very loudly, “No. No, no, no, no, no!!!! WHAT DID YOU DO!?”

“What?”

“You did NOT sleep with Sesshomaru!”

“…HAH!? Don’t just freaking scream that!!!!”

“NO. TELL ME YOU DIDN’T. IRENE. TELL ME YOU DIDN’T SLEEP WITH SESSHOMARU RIGHT NOW.”

Irene, starting to panic: “…Oh gods. Inuyasha. Inuyasha, what’s going on? WHAT DO YOU KNOW!?”

Inuyasha, losing his mind, utterly horrified: “WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN!??? HOW DID THIS HAPPEN!?”

Irene: “DOES IT MATTER!? HOW DO YOU KNOW!???”

Inuyasha: “SO YOU DID SLEEP WITH HIM!??? UGH! EUGH! EWWW! WHY!? WHY HIM!?”

Irene: “ANSWER THE QUESTION!!!”

Inuyasha is unresponsive. He’s just crouched down with his hands on his head, muttering to himself in complete horror and disbelief that Sesshomaru was capable of doing such a thing and that he did it to his friend and that said friend is pregnant.

There are things in this world Inuyasha did not want or need to know. This is one of them. But it’s staring him in the face- hitting his nose- and oh GODS he’s going to have to stab Sesshomaru now but also oh GODS this isn’t actually happening right? This is just a fever dream, right? Sesshomaru doesn’t actually fuck, right? Inuyasha isn’t about to be an uncle, r i g h t?

Miroku and Sango are just like: 😳🫢

Sango looks at Irene screeching in panic at Inuyasha to answer her and explain, before turning to face Miroku: “I’ve always wondered when Irene and Sesshomaru would get together.”

Miroku: “I’m honestly surprised Sesshomaru didn’t act sooner.”

Sango: “Ha! I always thought Irene would make the first move.”

Miroku: “Ah, my lovely wife, Irene may have fallen first, but Sesshomaru fell much harder.”

Sango: “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Miroku gestures to Irene throttling Inuyasha, shaking him by the collar. The half-demon is screeching for her to let him go because of how horrifying her scent is, but isn’t shoving her away. “This. This is what it means.”

Sango, realization dawning: “…Oh my gods she’s pregnant.”

Inuyasha, on the verge of tears: “SESSHOMARU ISN’T ALLOWED TO MAKE ME AN UNCLE THAT’S NOT HOW THIS WORKS!!!”

Irene: 🫨🤯😱

Okay but like on a more serious note I have been thinking about when Sesshomaru sneaks Irene away into the forest, he also kinda marries her there. Like nothing really fancy, but he takes out a white shiromuku hood (like the one she wore on her way to meet Ryuno) from inside his haori and drapes it over her head and shoulders before leaning down to kiss her.

Just something very simple, subtle, and sweet, and sort of like eloping, I guess- but also only Sesshomaru is aware they’re married, lol, until he has to go get Irene and baby Sora from Koga’s (courtesy of Sango and Kirara) because she panicked and ran away, in which he probably says something later about how he had to “find his wife that ran away”.

Like there’s no way Sess would have a proper wedding, but like I could totally see him doing something really simple and sweet with just the two of them in the forest deep (Hehe) that pretty much results with them being married.

#there are so many variations of the Inuyasha revealing baby Sora but all are hilarious #Inuyasha #inuyasha oc #mirsan #sesshomaru x oc #sesshomaru #forest deep #Miroku #Sango #Avion answers

9 notes · View notes

natty-light-of-my-life · 1 year

Text

WEATH•ER

verb: to withstand

(verb: to wear away)

Summary: Few words in the English language contain contradictory definitions. Contronyms, they’re called. Bolt. Bound. Buckle.

You think ‘Natasha Romanoff’ should be at the top of the list.

Warnings: someone doesn't return from Vormir (and it's not Nat). mentions of death and trauma. only slightly contrived syntax.

The thin, golden band around your left ring finger still catches your eye every time you lift your hand.

Six years ago, its glimmer used to bring a soft smile to your lips. You would be reminded of the day she proposed. The proposal was clumsy. You had come home early, having called it an early day from the office. You remember it clearly. It was a grey, gloomy Tuesday afternoon. Sometime after 3:47 p.m. (you remember because the bus was half an hour late and you had glared at the sign for all thirty-two minutes of its delay). Walking up to your front door, you recall the excited chattering that increased in volume as you neared.

To your surprise, you walked in on a group of superheroes hovering over the living room coffee table. Natasha was in the middle of the huddle, a wide, goofy grin on her lips. A grin that dropped quickly when the group turned to find you in the doorway. Thor was the first to react, diving on top of the table. Unfortunately, his heroic strength was too much for the stained oak of the JAKOBSFORS and it collapsed under the God of Thunder’s abs. Then, Tony shuffled in front as if trying to shield you from the splintered table. You had waved to all of them, thinking that this was all very strange behavior, but then again, the Avengers were a strange group of people.

You remember that you had tried to ask a question when one of the broken table legs shifted and a small, golden sliver of metal rolled out from the debris. When the ring settled at your feet - and you remember this part the most clearly - when the ring settled in front of your muddy sneakers, you looked up to find Natasha Romanoff smiling at you, bashfully - as timid as you have ever seen her - and on one knee.

You said yes, of course.

Fast forward six years, and the glint of the engagement ring makes you sad. You hate it, but it does. You love Natasha. You do. But, the wedding planning had barely started before one world-ending crisis after another slammed into her hands and into your relationship.

And then you were blipped for five years.

And then Clint Barton died at the bottom of a purple space mountain.

And then you came back.

And then.

It’s been a year since the Avengers brought back half of the population. The world owes Clint and Tony a debt that can never be repaid. You grieved your lost friends when you returned. You were rattled and grateful and heartbroken afterwards. You spent months and months helping the remaining Avengers sort out the chaos that remained.

Later, when the dust settled, you turned your attention to your fiancee. Your Natasha. She was with you the entire time, of course. At the new Avenger’s HQ. At your apartment. In your bed. But she never felt more unreachable to you.

‘Natashka,” you had whispered, begged, in the dark of the night, “Please. Let me help you.”

She had feigned sleep (you know because Natasha snores a little when she’s actually asleep). She had feigned sleep to avoid talking to you, and that was the first time that golden promise around your finger felt instead like a threat.

You can wait. You’re not selfish. You understand. Natasha waited for you every day for five years. She stood there and weathered the storm.

You can wait for her to heal. She’s bruised and scarred and weathered. But she’ll heal. And you’ll give her time. You'll give her space. You'll throw out everything you have for her.

That’s all that’s left to give.

(That’s all that’s left to give.)

That’s all that’s left.

(That’s all. That’s left.)

I think contronyms are cool! Check out a list of other contronyms here. My favorite from the list is probably "sanguine - confidently cheerful, or bloodthirsty".

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff #angst #fanfic #fun with the dictionary

47 notes · View notes

realmadridfamily · 5 months

Text

“I was in the hotel after the national team match (Belgium 2-0 England) and a photo of Mishel with a dog popped up on Instagram. I only watch profiles that I follow and I didn't know her but she suddenly popped up. I thought it was a very sweet photo and commented, "Cuties" not intending for her to respond to me. But it worked." - recalls Thibaut Courtois. It was November 2020, in the middle of the global crisis caused by the Covid-19 pandemic, and no one, not even themselves, expected that this whim of fate would turn them into the heroes of a love story. «I saw the message and thought, “Okay, fine. – I will answer you. And I wrote : "Thank you." He immediately asked me how my day was, how everything was going, and I thought: "This guy is cute." - explains model Mishel Gerzig.

From that evening on, they started talking non-stop. Every day. Until almost six months later, in April 2021, they saw each other for the first time in Madrid. “And we never parted again.” she says, stroking his hand, and the bouncer smiles knowingly in response. This is the first joint session after the wedding, which took place last July in a fairy-tale castle on the French Riviera, and after a serious knee injury that has kept Tibo off the pitch since August. During the session, they share confidences, smile, hug and kiss between photos... They are in a state of absolute happiness that cannot be hidden.

ELLE : Your relationship started long distance, but what was it like the first time you met in person?

THIBAUT: It was in Barajas, at the airport. You could fly to Spain from France, so she first flew from Israel to Paris and from there to Madrid. Right after landing, she told me that she had a problem with her passport and that they wouldn't let her into the country. It was a joke, but I was shocked and started thinking about how I could solve it. I couldn't believe it, I felt terrible.

MISHEL: (laugh). I thought of this joke to break the ice because I was very nervous when I saw him.

T: She was traveling with her best friend and they spent the night at my house. But we slept separately! (laugh). We had been talking on FaceTime all the time for months, we knew each other very well, but we needed to meet in person. We didn't plan much. We went for lunch, dinner, walked, talked for hours... I tried to get a friend to accompany me to training or a match. In fact, Mishel sometimes visited Di Stéfano, where we were playing at the time. And everything came out naturally, it worked. She brought a suitcase for two weeks because she had the idea to go to Amsterdam to work and then she never left (laugh).

M: That's true! The pandemic started and I was in Israel. When I had the opportunity to travel, I wanted to resume modeling, but my plans changed (laughter). I planned to stay here for two weeks, but I stayed much longer. That's because we had so much fun together. We already knew that we understood each other well remotely, but we tested each other in person and our relationship was even stronger.

E: So much so that you quickly became engaged.

T: And I wanted it to be even earlier (laugh). In January 2022, I went to buy a ring with a friend and thought: "I want one too." We had only been together for a few months, but I knew Mishel was the love of my life. I decided to wait until June to do it in a unique way. She loves the sea, so I found the right moment, improvised during a trip to Positano and asked her. We didn't want to wait so long to get married, but due to the World Cup and other commitments with Real Madrid and the Belgian national team, it was difficult to find an earlier date.

E: Thibaut is an international football star. Did you feel dizzy when you entered his world?

M: At first, yes. I thought about how I would cope. Tibo attracts a lot of attention and generates a lot of noise, but I slowly got used to it. It's beautiful to see all the love it awakens in people.

E: Shortly after the wedding, an injury occurred. How did you survive it?

T: The first day was difficult. I wrote to Mishel: "I think I broke my knee in training."

M: I quickly took the car and drove to Valdebebas.

T: We went for an MRI, which quickly showed that I had a serious injury. I was still inside and they had already told Mishel and the physio what happened. When I came out, I cried, but then I felt people's support and I started thinking positively. You can't go back. Mishel helped me a lot, especially in the first month when I was limping and could barely move. Now I'm working hard to come back as soon as possible and be 100% healthy.

E: How did this situation change your daily life?

T: Now I spend more hours training, but I also have more flexibility when it comes to being with my children and Mishel. The good thing is that they adore her, so we spend a lot of time together. The injury made me look at everything from a different perspective. I love football and I miss it, but there are other things I love and want to do. This year I'm going to start my Master's in Sports Management and hope to graduate. We also have several businesses (he invested in the production of plant milk, in Neat Burger, vegan burgers, in which Leonardo DiCaprio and Lewis Hamilton are also partners; he has a Formula 4 team, TC Racing, and Mishel is preparing to open a beauty salon in Madrid), it is worth develop mentally and learn new things. We are both curious and excited.

M: I'm lucky that in my job I can move deadlines freely. Previously, I did it to be with him at important matches and support him. When he got injured, I changed my schedule to spend more time at home to help him. And now, when I feel much better, I have gone to work in the United States. For me, balance is the most important thing because I want to do both, have time for work, but also for my personal and family life.

E: Speaking of family, your Mishel lives in Israel. How do you deal with what's going on there?

M: All people who were born there have been up to date with the current conflict throughout their lives. It's not that you get used to it, but you grow up having it in your everyday life. I served in the military for two years, so I know this up close. It's very painful to see what point this has gotten to. My family and friends are seeing and hearing terrible things as we all know people who have been killed or injured.

T: When I was a child and saw this conflict on TV, I didn't understand anything. This is a delicate and complicated issue for those of us who are neither Palestinian nor Israeli. Now I have family and friends there, so I experience it more closely, but I am Belgian. I show my support and respect every opinion, as long as it is expressed in a polite manner. We are all human and no one wants innocent people to die. This is the most important. But now there is a lot of hate, especially online, there is a lot of division and it is very difficult. These are things that cannot be allowed because we all want peace.

M: I have been living with this confrontation for 26 years, but I want to be positive and believe that peace will come and that all innocent people will be safe.

E: How did your careers start?

M: I started when I was 13, participating in a beauty pageant in Tel Aviv. At the age of 16, I worked outside Israel for the first time, on shows and campaigns in Milan and Miami.

T: I have been playing football since I was a child. At the age of 16, I was lucky enough to join Genk, one of the best teams in Belgium. When I was 18, we won the league and that made me grow. Chelsea signed a contract with me and loaned me to Atlético Madrid. I didn't speak Spanish, but I felt it was time to leave, even though almost no one around me was supportive. The first weeks were difficult, but I immediately felt the warmth of the people. The crowd and the team welcomed me very warmly and that made me fall in love with Madrid and Spain. When I had to go to England, it was very difficult for me to adapt because I missed Madrid. That's why I was happy to come back in 2018.

E: First you were at Atléti and now at Real Madrid. Do you think people understand this?

T: I know this is hard to understand for someone who loves Atléti. For the three years I played there, I gave everything I had to win. But I'm an athlete, it's my profession and I have to improve and fulfill my dreams by making bold decisions. Of course, I respect my past and never forget about it.

E: What are your plans for the future?

T: Growing the family, that's the first. And helping people, and that's the most important thing to both of us. To come back well after the injury and be in the best shape. Develop businesses and continue to enjoy life together in Madrid, with family and five dogs. I love sports and will always be involved in it, but when I retire, I see myself coaching youth teams rather than senior teams. It's too much pressure and too much time away from home. I think Mishel would throw me out of it (laugh).

#Mishel Gerzig #Thibaut Courtois #Real Madrid #Interview

9 notes · View notes

dreaminginthedeepsouth · 6 months

Text

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

October 29, 2023

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

OCT 30, 2023

On October 29, 1929, the U.S. stock market crashed. It had been rocked five days before, when heavy trading early in the day drove it down, but leading bankers had seen the mounting crisis and moved in to stabilize the markets before the end of the day. October 24 left small investors broken but the system intact. On Monday, October 28, the market slid again, with a key industrial average dropping 49 points.

And then, on October 29, the crisis hit. When the gong in the great hall of the New York Stock Exchange hit at ten o’clock, the market opened with heavy trading, all of it downward. When the ticker tape finally showed the day’s transactions, two and a half hours later, it documented that more than 16 million shares had changed hands and the industrial average had dropped another 43 points.

Black Tuesday was the beginning of the end. The market continued to drop. By November the industrial average stood at half of what it had been two months before. By 1932, manufacturing output was less than it had been in 1913; foreign trade plummeted from $10 billion to $3 billion in the three years after 1929, and agricultural prices fell by more than half. By 1932 a million people in New York City were out of work; by 1933, thirteen million people—one person of every four in the labor force—were unemployed. Unable to pay rent or mortgages, people lived in shelters made of packing boxes.

While the administration of Republican president Herbert Hoover preached that Americans could combat the Depression with thrift, morality, and individualism, voters looked carefully at the businessmen who only years before had seemed to be pillars of society and saw they had plundered ordinary Americans. The business boom of the 1920s had increased worker productivity by about 43%, but wages did not rise. Those profits, along with tax cuts and stock market dividends, meant that wealth moved upward: in 1929, 5% of the population received one third of the nation’s income.

In 1932, nearly 58% of voters turned to Democratic president Franklin Delano Roosevelt, who promised them a “New Deal”: a government that would work for everyone, not just for the wealthy and well connected.

As soon as Roosevelt was in office, Democrats began to pass laws protecting workers’ rights, providing government jobs, regulating business and banking, and beginning to chip away at the racial segregation of the American South. New Deal policies employed more than 8.5 million people, built more than 650,000 miles of highways, built or repaired more than 120,000 bridges, and put up more than 125,000 buildings. They regulated banking and the stock market and gave workers the right to bargain collectively. They established minimum wages and maximum hours for work. They provided a basic social safety net and regulated food and drug safety.

When he took office in 1953, Republican Dwight D. Eisenhower built on this system, adding to the nation’s infrastructure with the Federal-Aid Highway Act, which provided $25 billion to build 41,000 miles of highway across the country; adding the Department of Health, Education, and Welfare to the government and calling for a national healthcare system; and nominating former Republican governor of California Earl Warren as chief justice of the Supreme Court to protect civil rights. Eisenhower also insisted on the vital importance of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) to stop the Soviet Union from spreading communism throughout Europe.

Eisenhower called his vision “a middle way between untrammeled freedom of the individual and the demands of the welfare of the whole Nation.” The system worked: between 1945 and 1960 the nation’s gross national product (GNP) jumped by 250%, from $200 billion to $500 billion.

But while the vast majority of Americans of both parties liked the new system that had helped the nation to recover from the Depression and to equip the Allies to win World War II, a group of Republican businessmen and their libertarian allies at places like the National Association of Manufacturers insisted that the system proved both parties had been corrupted by communism. They inundated newspapers, radio, and magazines with the message that the government must stay out of the economy to return the nation to the policies of the 1920s.

Their position got little traction until the Supreme Court’s 1954 Brown v. Board of Education decision declaring segregation in public schools unconstitutional. That decision enabled them to divide the American people by insisting that the popular new government simply redistributed tax dollars from hardworking white taxpayers to undeserving minorities.

A promise to cut the taxes that funded social services and the business regulations they insisted hampered business growth fueled the election of Ronald Reagan for president in 1980. But by 1986 administration officials recognized that tax cuts that were driving the deficit up despite dramatic cuts to social services were so unpopular that they needed footsoldiers to back businessmen. So, Reagan backed the creation of an organization that brought together big businessmen, evangelical Christians, and social conservatives behind his agenda. “Traditional Republican business groups can provide the resources,” leader of Americans for Tax Reform Grover Norquist explained, “but these groups can provide the votes.”

By 1989, Norquist’s friend Ralph Reed turned evangelical Christians into a permanent political pressure group. The Christian Coalition rallied evangelicals behind the Republican Party, calling for the dismantling of the post–World War II government services and protections for civil rights—including abortion—they disliked.

As Republicans could reliably turn out religious voters over abortion, that evangelical base has become more and more important to the Republican Party. Now it has put one of its own in the House Speaker’s chair, just two places from the presidency. On October 25, after three weeks of being unable to unite behind a speaker after extremists tossed out Kevin McCarthy (R-CA), the Republican conference coalesced behind Representative Mike Johnson (R-LA) in part because he was obscure enough to have avoided scrutiny.

Since then, his past has been unearthed, showing interviews in which he asserted that we do not live in a democracy but in a “Biblical republic.” He told a Fox News Channel interviewer that to discover his worldview, one simply had to “go pick up a Bible off your shelf and read it. That’s my worldview.”

Johnson is staunchly against abortion rights and gay rights, including same-sex marriage, and says that immigration is “the true existential threat to the country.” In a 2016 sermon he warned that the 1960s and 1970s undermined “the foundations of religion and morality in the U.S.” and that attempts to address climate change, for example, are an attempt to destroy capitalism.

Like other adherents of Christian nationalism, Johnson appears to reject the central premise of democracy: that we have a right to be treated equally before the law. And while his wife, Kelly, noted last year on a podcast that only about 4% of Americans “still adhere to a Biblical worldview,” they appear to reject the idea we have the right to a say in our government. In 2021, Johnson was a key player in the congressional attempt to overturn the lawful results of the 2020 presidential election.

In his rejection of democracy, Johnson echoes authoritarian leaders like Russia’s Vladimir Putin and Hungary’s Viktor Orbán, both of whom have the loyal support of America’s far right. Such leaders claim that the multiculturalism at the heart of democracy ruins nations. The welcoming of various races and ethnicities through immigration or affirmative action undermines national purity, they say, while the equality of LGBTQ+ individuals and women undermines morality. Johnson has direct ties to these regimes: his 2018 campaign accepted money from a group of Russian nationals, and he has said he does not support additional funding for Ukraine in its fight against Russian aggression.

The rejection of democracy in favor of Christian authoritarianism at the highest levels of our government is an astonishing outcome of the attempt to prevent another Great Depression by creating a government that worked for ordinary Americans rather than a few wealthy men.

But here we are.

After Johnson’s election as speaker, extremist Republican Matt Gaetz of Florida spelled out what it meant for the party…and for the country: “MAGA is ascendant,” Gaetz told former Trump advisor Steve Bannon, “and if you don’t think that moving from Kevin McCarthy to MAGA Mike Johnson shows the ascendance of this movement, and where the power of the Republican Party truly lies, then you’re not paying attention.”

—

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

#Heather Cox Richardson #Letters From An American #MAGA #history #racism #Christian Authoritarianism #Christian Dominionism #Christian Nationalism #Biblical Republic

5 notes · View notes

flamestar126 · 10 months

Text

I have acquired hostages!

And my lengthy story/rant of the dolls

So back in January, I learned an old friend could crochet, and I did the only logical thing I could think of at that moment

Which was to reach out and ask if they could crochet me Dexter and Mandark from Dexter's Laboratory—

And they said yes! After a few months later they just arrived a couple hours ago and I wanted to brag share them!

Bad lighting beware

The glasses are actually detachable and come with silly little eyes that I love

I also have to hold Mandark's head because he literally cannot support himself because the weight of his ballon sized head will tip him over.

He can't stand up at all lmao

I want to shake him but I'm afraid his head will fall off if I do

His tie also flies a bit. I just came out of the nearest store by and bought a hot glue gun to glue his tie and the eyes of both their glasses down because they weren't completely attached. I had a crisis because I lost one of them and finally found it after a few minutes of searching

They also included hair details!

Mandark's signature "M" and the two little cowlicks of Dexter's hair is literally so perfect

Which isn't that noticeable for Dexter but still really cute!

Here's a picture of his tie.

Ignore the string of glue. I took it off the moment I realized it was there after the photo

And their hands are cute! Dexter's fingers are so short but accurate and they have this soft ball in the middle of his palm which i think is a cool detail.

Mandark's fingers are long and thin like the original. They're honestly a bit creepy but cute nonetheless

And the best of all

THE SIZE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN

One of the first things they asked me if I wanted was their correct size differences and i was like fuck yeah I want the noodle tower over him

LOOK AT THEM

MANDARK IS SO HUGE COMPARED TO DEXTER JUST LIKE THE ORIGINAL DESIGN WHICH I LOVE SO MUCH

I still have to hold him by the head because of fear lol

I honestly didn't even know if it was possible for them to create this in the first place. It was a longshot to even ask for this but they even above and beyond in my opinion and I'm so satisfied with how it turned out. 10/10 best commission ever

Not dex lab related below

THEY ALSO ADDED FREEBIES (which i paid for right after I learned they stuffed it inside)

Completely low quality pictures of cat stickers and other crochet stuff I can hang!

Now i gotta find a safe place for everything

#I also asked if it was possible to create more which was unfortunately no. It was a long process to even do this and I don't think I could p #Still so worth the wait and they're amazing for doing this much already #lmao i couldn't find a completely blank background for them so i used my dexter shirt but mandark's hair blended in too much #he looked bald so i had to used a random white shirt LOL #ah sorry my hand is in the way mandark is a useless noodle trying to hold himself up #and yes i made them kiss-#DO YOU SEE THEIR HEIGHT DIFFERENCE ITS FUCKING WILD #i love my friend so much for this lmao #dexter's laboratory #dexter's lab #dexter #mandark #ignore my nails i need a trim but im lazy lol #dexdark #dolls

13 notes · View notes

runningsun · 2 months

Text

cw: grooming, csa, not graphic

now and then i remember that time i thought it was normal I was hanging around with 16 to 23 yo as a 12 year old 'teen' all the time. and then i remember the time my mom was late to pick me up from the train in the middle of winter so after our train arrived we split up and i went to wait for my mom at this 21 yo house and not only did he show me THAT performance of Vanilla by Gackt, the one with the snake leather pants which... it's a great performance but wtf are you showing that to a 12yo?! then he asked if he could take photos of my feet and i said yes?? and now i'm like if a 12yo kid told me that a 21 year old man asked them for foot pics cause he's an out and proud foot fetishist, aka he's gonna jerk it to those foot pics later, i would report him from being a predator???? like???? what???

i was lucky (?) to never be assaulted as a child or teen*... , but recently i told my mom of the number of adult men, mainly teachers who straight up sexually harassed and tried to groom me and she was shocked. and i'm like ....oh you... you didn't know that. right. :/ she also recently dropped the bombshell that she broke up with her ex because he made a pass at 16yo me, but like ... from my pov all I knew was that she stayed with him for months after and kept in contact for years even post break up. so like.... how was i supposed to know she believed me?? anyway this is what I mean when I tell people I don't need to forgive or forget to move on from something. there is no forgiving or forgetting these things. to me, prioritising your boyfriend over your child's safety is unforgivable. and there is nothing she can do to ever make it right. but we gotta move on somehow.

*nevermind i got new memories coming up. turns out that's not true at all. i just remembered something i'd suppressed for 20 years, called the crisis line and apparently it does count as csa. so gonna go process that now. :/

#m #please DO NOT READ IF YOU FIND THIS TRIGGERING #i'm jsut rambling

2 notes · View notes

limabeans-babies-forthewin · 4 months

Text

Interdimensional Crisis Pt 3

Hey! So! It's been awhile since I've updated this fic, hm? In my defense, I had like 3 massive events happen in my life within, like, a month. But this fic (and several others) have been rattling in my brain the entire time, so yeah!

Thanks to those of you who're reading! And if you don't want irregular updates, I'm more than likely going to combine them all into one. . . Really. . . Long. . . one shot? Who knows. Point is, it's going up on Ao3 when I'm done and you can read it there. With possible edits.

Thanks!

FIRST

The first thing that surprises Duck is the amount of security patrolling the streets, making them feel exposed even though they stick to the shadows and more abandoned locales. Overly armed guards loiter on every corner and stare at anything that moves for longer than Duck thinks is needed, eyes burning holes in every unlucky passerby that crosses their path. Cameras buzz and hiss as they rove and zoom in on everything they can. It’s honestly horrifying and reminds Duck of a particularly rough episode of a podcast they finished a while back. Being monitored and watched wasn’t something they worried about until that episode, but now they feel the anxiety sharply. They never really worried about being seen in their own universe given how everyone is so deeply involved in their own lives, so being surrounded by cameras and armed guards makes it feel like they’ve finally awakened that mutant instinct of fearing being seen.

A large hand closes around their wrist and Duck jumps as they’re dragged forward.

“Don’t stop moving,” Ronin hisses as he guides them around a corner. They hadn’t realized they had slowed. “If you stop too long, you’ll be seen. Keep your hood up, eyes down, and keep moving. Only stop when I tell you to.”

Duck nods and uses their free hand to tug their hood over their head, casting their attention to the ground they walk on as they speed up to level with the older turtle. So far, Duck has come to the conclusion that the best way to stay on Ronin’s good side is to stay quiet and follow instructions. So they do.

“Hold up.”

The short stop causes Duck to run into Ronin’s back, but he doesn’t even shift under the impact. Duck, however, rubs their face as their eyes water and attempt to peer around him. They’re barely allowed a glimpse of the pair of men passing by before Ronin shoves them back and pins them to the shadows against the wall behind him. He levels them with a brief look before he turns his attention back once again and waits. After the men move out of range, Ronin peels himself from the bricks and moves toward the manhole cover in the middle of the alley. He levers it open with ease and motions for Duck to follow, keeping his eyes on their surroundings as Duck climbs down into the sewers. Once their feet hit the ground, they take a few steps away from the ladder as Ronin clears them once again and follows them down, making sure the cover is secure before finishing his descent.

“How you feeling?” he asks once they’re safely away from prying eyes or ears. His tone is softer and teeters more on the edge of how Draxum used to behave when they first met. Almost awkward as he tests the waters of politeness after an initial rough period. “Still cold? Nauseous?”

Duck shakes their head. Then hesitates and waves a hand in a ‘so-so’ motion. “I have a headache,” they admit. “And I’m a little tired. But other than that, I’m pretty alright. You know, all things considered.”

Ronin looks at them for a long moment and for that moment, Duck feels like they did when they first met Donnie. Almost like they’re being studied or observed so their reactions can be stored away and referred to later. It’s fine, though. They’re used to being watched since they’re extremely young and fairly freshly mutated. Everyone wants to make sure they’re coping with sentience in a healthy manner they suppose. Which is great because sometimes they aren’t. Like right now.

In their defense, they have just been forcibly ejected from their own dimension, punched by a turtle over two feet taller than they are, and they’re pretty sure they were yanked between universes without eating dinner, so they’re very hungry. But they still find themself instinctively smiling to try to hide most of what they’re feeling. Why? Who knows.

It seems useless against Ronin, though, since his eyes narrow suspiciously. “Your lip is bleeding.”

Duck swipes a thumb under their mouth and frowns when it comes back red and wet. They hum and swipe their hand down the side of their pants. “You hit me in the face,” they counter.

Ronin’s expression softens further and he frowns in displeasure.

"I’m just saying. People usually bleed when you hit them in the face. There are a lot of veins and shit in the head area.”

“I know,” he says, turning around and heading into the sewers proper. “Sorry.”

Duck hurries to keep up and tugs his jacket tighter around their shoulders. Much like in their own dimension, the sewers are colder than aboveground. So when it’s already cold in the upper world, it’s freezing below. And it’s basically freezing up there, so who knows how cold it’s going to get down here.

“Don’t worry about it, big man,” they say as they level off with him. “Instincts and whatnot. If it makes you feel better, I don’t think I’m going to have any more issues.”

“Good to know. And I’ll try not to hit you again if you do.”

It takes Duck a moment to realize the turtle made a joke and they bark a laugh when they do. If it were one of their brothers, they would take the opportunity to nudge him with their shoulder, or violently shove Leo, for the offense. But they don’t know if Ronin would be ok with that level of familiarity. So instead, they stick to the laugh and a friendly eye roll. “I can’t even say I’d fight you if you did,” they relent. “I’ve been told I’m basically incapable of doing anything that requires physical activity.”

This time it’s Ronin that snorts a laugh. “Really?”

Duck feels themself smile and nod. “Sadly, yes. I’ve tried parkour, karate, whatever the hell Lou Jitsu does, weapons training. All of it—” They blow a raspberry for emphasis. “So we’ve discovered I’m better at fleeing and hiding. At least for the moment. Allegedly there’s still hope for me in the future.”

“A true warrior knows when to beat a hasty retreat. Plus you do seem. . .”

He trails off in a way that makes Duck glance up at him. “Are you trying not to insult me? Because you can call me weak or small or fragile and it’s not gonna hurt my feelings. I mean, honestly, look at me.” They spread their arms wide and motion to themself for emphasis. “Not exactly battle ready.” Once the gesture is made, Duck quickly huddles back into the jacket.

A faint smile settles on Ronin’s face as they make their way through the tunnels. “I’ll say. I almost thought I killed you when I hit you.”

“Hilarious. My jaw still hurts.”

“I didn’t hit you to make you feel good, kid.”

The pair share a few seconds of laughter and Duck finally feels the rest of their tension ease from their shoulders. This is more like a turtle they would know personally. Friendly, jovial, almost younger than he actually is. Based on appearance alone, Duck would have to assume that this turtle was at least in his thirties or forties, if not older given the amount of lines, scars, and spots that litter his head and face. There’s bound to be more under his clothes, not that Duck is itching to see this guy strip. But they won’t deny they’re curious about the limp they’re starting to notice now that they’re examining him. It ages him in an unfamiliar way that doesn’t scream ‘turtle’ to them. Yes, they know everyone is bound to age and at least one of their boys will probably develop a limp given the nature of their whole situation. But seeing it happen now. . .

Plus he has a seriousness about him that’s utterly confusing to them. Yes, Duck is well aware that sometimes you can’t joke your way out of a situation, and they have seen all of their brothers turn off the humor for brief periods to accomplish something. But everyone was always quick to revert back to laughter and joviality to ease the tension once the occasion passed. But Ronin has a gravity that just hangs over his shoulders like a cape. It’s almost unsettling, but they’re more than willing to overlook it since he was clearly wary about them for good reason. Besides, they can’t honestly expect their own brothers to remain so lighthearted as they get older, can they?

Well, maybe Mikey could pull off being optimistic and happy all the time. They honestly can’t picture him serious about anything beyond when he summons Dr. Delicate Touch.

“Didn’t your parents ever teach you starin’ is rude?”

Duck snaps their gaze back toward the dimmed tunnels ahead of them. “Sorry,” they say. They hear the nervous laughter pick at the edges of their voice and they cringe, clearing their throat and shaking their head to steady themself against the embarrassment that comes from being caught. “I didn’t realize I was. Sorry.”

Ronin shrugs. “Don’t worry about it,” he says. “You’re going through a lot. Staring is an expected reaction.”

A surprised laugh pushes itself from Duck’s core and they nod. “You’re fucking telling me. I’m practically vibrating with. . . Everything!” They hold up their hand and laugh again when they confirm that they are, in fact, shaking. “Look!”

“Are you shaking from adrenaline, or are you shaking because you’re horrifically underdressed for this weather?”

The question catches them off guard, but the fact that they can see their breath curl in a cloud around their head speaks for itself. They quickly withdraw their hand and tuck it into the sleeve of the jacket. “Probably both.”

“Fair enough. It should be warmer in the lair, and I’ll see if we have any tea left so you don’t catch a cold.”

Duck nods. “And can I get some water, please?”

“Of course kid. . . Oh. By the way, when we get to the lair, cool it with the swearing, ok? I don’t want the kids to pick it up.” “Of course, of course. . .” It takes them far too long to pick up on surprise number two. “Wait. The what?”

#fanfiction #rottmnt oc #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles oc #oc fanfiction #save rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtle fanfiction #rise of the tmnt #tmnt the last ronin fanfiction #tmnt the last ronin #my fic

2 notes · View notes

jasoncanty01 · 1 year

Text

How Reagan's GOP Impacted America

From Facebook

Jonathan Zucker

I have long been positive that the Republican party prolonged the Iran Hostage crisis in 1979 to ensure Jimmy Carter's defeat.

The theory was based on the fact that the hostages were released the day Reagan was inaugurated, far too quickly for any legitimate negotiation to have occurred. Furthermore, the Iran-Contra scandal (in which the Reagan administration violated a US arms embargo to covertly sell arms to Iran) always seemed to be the perfect quid-pro-quo for holding the hostages until Reagan was President.

However, multiple credible investigations--focused on Bill Casey (chairman of Reagan's campaign and later director of the CIA) as the intermediary--had been unable to substantiate the theory.

However, we now have proof.

The problem, as it turns out, is that these investigations focused on the wrong person as the intermediary. Casey was smart enough not to do take the trip himself or to use any foreign relations expert as a surrogate.

A blockbuster article in the New York Times yesterday revealed that, in 1979, John Connally (former Republican Governor of Texas) went on a tour of middle east capitals with one message to be passed to the revolutionaries in Iran: "If you reject any deal Carter is offering and hold the hostages past the election--all-but-ensuring Ronald Reagan would win the election--Reagan will give you a much better deal than Carter is offering."

Accompanying Connally on this trip was a little know political aide named Ben Barnes.

Yesterday Barnes came clean (50 years later) and, in a detailed interview with the Times, revealed where Connally had travelled and to whom he had spoken. And, that, upon his return, his first stop was to brief Casey on his trip.

What this means is that:

(a) the Reagan campaign condemned 52 American diplomats to months of unnecessary (additional) captivity with the express purpose of influencing a Presidential election;

(b) the illegal Iran-Contra arms sales were, as suspected, the quid pro quo to the religious dictatorship of Iran for holding America's hostage to ensure Reagan's victory.

Just another reminder that the contemporary Republican party--focused on winning at all costs, damn the republic--is nothing new.

It's the same Republican party we have had since FDR broke their hold on power in 1932. It is just that from 1932 to 1980 they only managed to win Presidential elections.

But, starting in 1980 when they took control of the Senate (for the first time since 1955), and began their campaign to

(a) take control of the judiciary to undo the New Deal regulatory state (abortion, gun rights, and so-called "religious freedom" are window dressing issues to secure votes from White evangelicals) and

(b) pile up debt by engaging in tax cuts that disproportionately benefit the wealthy (eventually forcing, in their view, a radical downsizing of federal programs).

This has been the agenda of the wealthy elite that funds the Republican party since--literally--1932.

With Trump's Supreme Court appointments and tax cut (which built upon the Reagan and both W. Bush cuts), they succeeded.

It took them 90 years, but they won.

Tax rates on the wealth are lower than at any time since the 30s and the Supreme Court is systematically hamstringing the 20th century regulatory state. And, as a result, concentration of wealth has returned to the pre-New Deal levels of the "Gilded Age."

While I do not think it was their intent, I don't think they care that our very democracy may be a casualty of their efforts.

Anyway... clear evidence that Reagan's victory in 1980 is severely

tainted, if not completely illegitimate.

#GOP #Ronald Regan #Jimmy Carter #the gilded age #robber barons #Robber baron era

7 notes · View notes

cantstoptheimagines · 2 years

Text

Friendly Neighborhood Escort Service (Garfield!Peter Parker | MCU)

Summary — Spider-Man has recently started walking people home at night, but you think he should change what he calls this kind act... for his own sake.

Warnings & Other Tags ➳ Pure fluff and comedy; Peter being an embarrassed dork; mentions of escorts; literally one curse word.

Notes ➳ Word Count is 632. ➳ Reader is gender neutral (they/them). ➳ I thought this was a really cute and funny idea. I hope you like it as much as I do!

You were walking home from a friend’s apartment. The air was cool and crisp as your hands hid within the pockets of your jacket. You barely rounded a corner when a flash of red and blue caught you off guard.

With a hand over your heart, you gasped, “Dude, what are you doing—?!”

“Oh my—! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you like that! I’m so sorry!”

Your eyes widened at the realization of who stood before you. Spider-Man, the city’s most famous vigilante, held out his hands in an effort to prove that he meant no harm.

“Are you okay?”

You scoffed, shaking your head in astonishment, “I guess.”

“Good,” he said, reaching up to awkwardly rub the back of his neck. “Looking for an escort?”

You blinked in surprise. Giving him a once-over, your eyebrows furrowed. Sure, Spider-Man was probably the most desirable guy in New York, but this?

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, ya know, it’s this thing I’ve been doing on the side!” he chuckled, waving his hand nonchalantly. “People seem to like it!”

When you simply stared at him with an unreadable expression, he continued, “I’m calling it the Friendly Neighborhood Escort Service! So, what d’you say? Can I walk you home, so you’re not by yourself so late? Make sure you get there all right?”

You almost let out a relieved sigh, realizing that he didn’t mean that kind of escort, though you weren’t entirely sure if you would turn such an idea down if it had been the case.

“Sure,” you finally nodded. “Yeah, that’d be great.”

“All right!” he exclaimed, and then he held out his hand. “High five!”

You laughed quietly, but fulfilled his request by connecting your palm with his own. He then allowed you to intertwine your arm with his before gesturing for you to lead the way.

“It’s very sweet that you’re doing this for people,” you muttered, “but I think you need to work on the pitch.”

He tilted his head. Although you couldn’t see his face, you could feel the curiosity practically rolling off him in waves.

“What d’you mean?”

You let out a nervous chuckle, and then said, “Well... usually, when people walk up to strangers on the street, especially in the middle of the night, and ask if someone needs an escort service...”

You trailed off as Spider-Man came to a stop beneath a streetlamp. He was frozen in place. Fully realizing what you had told him, you were almost certain that you had just sent New York’s finest hero into a spiraling, existential crisis.

Unintentionally, of course.

“Oh, shit!” he suddenly exclaimed, placing his free hand on his head. “No wonder everyone has been looking at me so weird when I tell them the name!”

You tried to contain your amused smile, but failed miserably, “How long have you been calling it that?”

His demeanor changed. As he continued walking next to you, he shyly muttered, “About three months.”

He playfully nudged you when your laughter finally bubbled over, and exclaimed, “This isn’t funny! Half of New York probably thinks I’m a hooker!”

Despite the fact that you made fun of him on the rest of your walk, you eventually helped him come up with a new name for his good deed. And when he walked you to your apartment door, he promised to use it from that moment forward.

It was only a week later when you found out that he had kept his promise. A blur of red and blue landed on top of a streetlamp with a CLANG! on another one of your late-night walks. Looking up, you smiled at your most recent acquaintance, who gave you a salute in greeting before he asked, “Need some help from the Friendly Neighborhood Buddy System?”

#2022 #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu imagines #mcu x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker imagines #peter parker x reader #spiderman imagine #spiderman imagines #spiderman x reader #friendly neighborhood services

34 notes · View notes

cl0udpup · 1 year

Text

Sibling trauma

TW: addiction, severe mental illness, hospitalization, relational abuse, self-harm, disability

I just got a handful of paragraphs of texts from my estranged sibling. They send me into immediate anxiety every time I hear from or about them.

Everything feels urgent, like an emergency, with them. They exude chaos. They are an addict, and have hurt me badly many times.

Growing up

We were never very close growing up. We had fun as toddlers and elementary school age, but also fought violently.

They expressed their discomforts loudly, required a lot of support from my mom, and most of the family’s energy and attention was focused on them. I had chaotic meltdowns as well, but mostly turned my pain inward and attempted to take care of myself.

Things were relatively calm for them in middle school, while this became a time of deep struggle for me. Again, I kept it all to myself. My mom had no idea I was struggling immensely with self-harm until a friend found out in 8th grade and urged me to tell her. My dad was nowhere to be found during all this other than to yell at me for hurting myself and take my bedroom door off it’s hinges.

Late high school was when we really realized something was going on with them. They did zero self-care like taking showers, grooming, wearing clothes besides pajamas. They were always exhausted, eyes barely open, falling asleep at the dinner table. I found out years later they were actually nodding off from heroin.

It was hard to know how to support them, or even recognize what was going on, because the majority of interaction with them was them destroying shit around the house, screaming at people, being abusive.

I was dealing with severe mental illness, substance use, trouble at school, and with law enforcement, I literally did not have the capacity for even beginning to know how to help.

My parents were way over their heads. They both had severe addiction in their families, and (again, I didn’t realize until much later,) my dad was abusing alcohol as well. My mom is an incredibly naive person who grew up horrendously sheltered and totally unprepared for these types of life challenges. She also doesn’t struggle with mental illness of any kind beyond a bit of anxiety, so this was all fully out of her realm of knowledge.

In our 20′s, I tried to reach out, to be as good an older sibling I could be. I did my best, but I mostly only saw them when they were in crisis. Multiple times I helped them detox at home, urged them to seek help, tried to connect them with resources. They were hardly responsive, and abusive, scary, and exhausting when using.

Things always came to a standstill because ultimately they feel totally powerless, and see themself as a victim of circumstance. There is a strong disconnect when it comes to being able to take any level of responsibility for their health, their life, or quite frankly anything.

Even when I tried to lead by example and share how helpful certain things like therapy and medication have been for me, that I know it’s hard but I’m here to help and it’s worth it to try to have an open mind. I think they weren’t ready to let go of the identity they formed in their mind of being persecuted.

Reconnecting

At the beginning of the pandemic, they got sober, I got sober, and we actually became best friends. I taught them so much, helped them realize things about life, about their identity, how to survive. They were actually able to be receptive to my friendship.

They practically lived with me for about 6 months. We even discussed trying to clear out space for them to move in.

I was SO happy, I felt like I had a real sibling for the first time, like how I thought the bond between siblings was supposed to be. I don't really have family (beyond chosen-family) besides my parents, and my grandma (who just passed away a few weeks ago.)

Then, one day, they decided it would be okay for them to do drugs and drink sometimes. I urged them not to, as they were less than a year into their sobriety. Things were still SO fragile. Instead of taking my advice, or flat out saying they disagree, they lied to me about it, and asked others to lie to me for them.

Of course, our friends would not in fact lie to me for them. They didn’t realize this, and somehow had the ability to keep a straight face, look me in the eyes, and talk shit. This gave me chills. It makes me feel sick to think about.

Once this began, it called into question every conversation we'd had in the past year. I wondered if all the closeness we shared, and trust we had before had been genuine, or if they were putting on an act then, too.

It hurt so much, but I truly had no idea how bad it was about to get.

Catastrophe

After they started using again, all hell broke loose. They went full on self-destruct, practically overnight. They took every stride they had made in getting their life together, and threw it in the trash. They quit their job, spent all their savings, bailed on their apartment, and isolated all their friends.

My parents and I spent about six months with them at the center of our worlds. They became the only thing any of us were able to think about, focus on, or put energy into.

The three of us, plus my four closest friends (who had recently become their friends) dropped everything to do all we could to support them. We all severely overextended our abilities because we were so worried.

Their response to all our attempts at love, understanding, immeasurable patience, calm, kindness, loyalty, was to be horribly abusive, say the worst, most hurtful things, and honestly make me afraid for my safety.

It all came to a head when they went to my parents house one day, and refused to leave. When I say refused to leave, I mean they destroyed part of the house, built a barricade to the ceiling, and stayed behind it for weeks.

My mom called me every day crying. We truly thought they were going to die. I was afraid for my parents safety, as my sibling was paranoid, and carrying a knife when leaving the barricade to go to the bathroom. My parents had to stay in a hotel because it was too much.

They were putting weird signs in the window, and I was so afraid a neighbor or passerby was going to call the cops and get my sibling killed killed.

I called every resource I could find in our area. I brought social workers to the house to try to talk to them, called hotlines and handed them the phone, sent them links to online support chats. But they were so manic, they could hardly hold a conversation.

They just screamed, yelled, sobbed, broke things, banged on and tore open the wall, blasted music. It was so overwhelming. We all felt helpless. Obviously they did, too.

Diversion

I realized the only way they were coming out of there was when they made themself sick enough to need medical care. They've had to be hospitalized for alcohol related emergencies before, and sure enough, that's what finally resolved this chapter.

They drank so much, they got violently ill. They called and asked me to drive them to the hospital. We all left work, rushed over, got them in the car, and bolted to the ER.

After dropping them off, I called the inpatient addiction treatment facility I’d been in contact throughout this, and just barely convinced them to try. They informed me they wouldn’t have an opening in the program for about a week, but if my sibling called, they could process the intake over the phone.

With that partially taken care of, I rushed to my parents house to begin cleaning up. As I said, the area they had been barricaded was fucked. When they finally came out that morning before going to the ER, they destroyed the barricade, throwing everything out into the surrounding part of the house.

Broken glass, furniture in pieces, cat litter and food everywhere (they kept their cat in the barricade with them,) piles of trash, and when I went to grab a broom and trashcan, I found the (tall kitchen) trash can full of their vomit.

It was so, so awful. It literally looked like our childhood home had been damaged by a storm. They wrote manic and paranoid rantings all over every inch of the walls with permanent marker. I just cried. I couldn’t look at it, didn’t want to know what kind of things they wrote.

Dissociation took over, and I powered through, separating things I knew they would need, and throwing everything else in garbage bags. I cleaned and cleaned, as fast as possible. It hurt me to deal with, but I couldn’t bare the thought of my parents having to do it.

My mom was a nervous wreck, and my dad, who rarely shows strong emotion beyond anger and irritability, had apparently had a severe panic attack the night before.

I felt it was my responsibility to take care of everyone until I collapsed with exhaustion.

The chaos after

Obviously, this whole experience left me severely burnt out. I had spent most of the last six months totally dissociated, feeling as though it was my role to be the strong and dependable one to my parents and sibling.

I had no idea what a toll it was taking on me.

A few weeks after all this, my health took a nosedive. I’ll save the details for another time, but to make a long story short, I ended up in the ER myself multiple times, in and out of the hospital, countless tests, on a slew of new medications, and a new routine of appointments I had to maintain for the foreseeable future.

After this point, my life as it was before ceased to exist. My entire experience became wholly focused on my health, and dealing with becoming more disabled than ever. I lost the ability to work, to do hobbies, to take care of any responsibilities outside of medical appointments.

This has been my life, from the end of 2021 to now. It’s become impossible to relate to others who aren’t disabled. Just trying to keep in touch and have conversation feels impossible. It’s almost laughable when I’d be asked something like “what are you doing this weekend?” because obviously I’m staying home and trying to survive, just like every other day. Existence becomes a blur. It’s like I’m living in a different world. And there’s so, so, so much grief.

Gaslighting

My sibling stayed in rehab for a month, and seemed to enjoy the experience.

They texted me a few times, talking about themself, their life, what they’re up to. They never asked how I’m doing. They gave one sentence of apology over text (after being prompted to by my mom,) then immediately asked me for a favor.

I just couldn’t. That’s all I can say. There’s nothing there. I’m empty. Totally drained. I’m gone.

I told them I’m happy for them, and gave neutral responses to everything else. They had no sense of reality as to how traumatic this was for everyone. How hurtful the things they said and did were. Just as it’s always been with them, they were ready to just brush it all under the rug as if everything was fine.

This is the exact same kind of gaslighting my abusive ex used to do to me. He was an alcoholic, too, and would get drunk, abuse me, then pretend like nothing happened the next day. It was infuriating, and made me feel totally off balance.I just cannot tolerate ever being treated like that again. That experience in itself fucked me up for four years. I was only less than two years into healing when all this last event with my sibling began. I just can’t deal with it.

I didn’t see them at all after taking them to the hospital, until my family gathered at my grandma’s deathbed a few weeks ago. I wasn’t worried about seeing them, as all I cared about was grandma. I didn’t have the mental space to care about anything else.

Regardless, their presence made me cringe anyway. They walked in, obviously intoxicated, talking about frivolous things about themself while my parents and I were crying and gathered around my unconscious grandma. I tried so hard not to react, but I was so scared they would ruin this moment. The rest of us had been there all day, and it was obvious she was at her final minutes. My sibling stayed briefly, then left the room to “go do something,” and this is when grandma passed.

It reminded me of when I was 20, and our childhood dog started having seizures that wouldn’t stop. I had to make the decision to put him down. My sibling didn’t even spend time with him in his last moments, or come to the animal hospital to say goodbye. I just don’t understand their apparent lack of ability to be there for anyone else.

Now

This morning, they texted me, and I was instantly filled with dread. A couple days ago, they asked if they could stop by as they were in the area. In that moment, I was working, and having mental health struggles of my own. Plus, I have always made it clear to anyone who knows me, I don’t do anything spontaneously. People “just dropping by” has been something I’ve been wildly uncomfortable with my entire life.

I didn’t respond. In my mind, not responding instantly is not only consistent with my communication style, but also how they communicate, too. It takes them days to respond to any texts or calls.

Yet, they apparently took offense to this. They sent accusations of how unfair I was being, how I never gave them a chance, that I was wrong for banning them from ever seeing my dogs again (I’ve never mentioned any rules regarding my dogs whatsoever, although I have had intrusive thoughts about them kidnapping them.)

I’m just so exhausted. I’ve had multiple nightmares about them recently, about them physically hurting and threatening me and my parents. Each time I’ve had one of these dreams, my mom calls me within hours of me waking up, crying because something just happened with my sibling.

I just can’t. It’s damaging my psyche, my body, my life. I’m so sad.

#addiction #mental illness #disability #mania #family #sadness #grief

9 notes · View notes

evilkitten3 · 10 months

Note

my word for the wip game is “play” or “don’t” :)

i'll do play first, then!

And none of them are people he trusts to handle a crisis in an elementary school, except maybe Krillin or Yamcha, but the latter is on the other side of the world playing baseball and Gohan has no idea where the former even is.

“Wanna play jumprope with me an’ Glu for recess?”

“I’ve never actually played jumprope before,” he admits.

-Men of Tin, chapter 4: Elementary School Blues (Dragon Ball; should probably change that to middle school; part of a post-Cell au where Gohan goes to school much sooner; yes all the kids are named after school supplies)

Although he’d spent his first recess learning to play jump rope with Glu and Wakku, Gohan doesn’t really feel as though he’d truly bonded with either of them.

Most of the other kids had formed their own groups that were also pretty clearly pre-established: Wakku and Glu played jump rope; Tekist, Bainda, Jiki, Basami, and Keiko talked about sports; Hochikiss, Maaka, Forda, and Conpas giggled about fashion and boys; Shappu and Pen chased each other around the small playground – only Gohan and the quiet boy, Mashe, had remained separate from the others.

Mashe asks, gesturing towards the other side of the cafeteria (which is just the playground, only now they’re all sitting on the benches and eating lunch).

-Men of Tin, chapter 6: Lost Between Two Worlds (Dragon Ball; this is the chapter i'm least satisfied with and may remove altogether bc i barely even remember what i wanted to do with mashe anyway. i think maybe he'd also lost someone in the cell games or something? idk)

"...Why should I have to play a damn guessing game every time someone I know has some sort of anniversary?..."

-Around the World in 365 Days (Dragon Ball; fic i started ages ago and might work into a separate fic instead of making it its own thing; basically goku and vegeta try to find a birthday present for yamcha)

Pan and Bulla playing together was one thing, but the girls were still too young to really understand what bedtime was, or why they should fight against it like it was the next big threat to the planet.

-Good Ideas Will Tear Your Brain Apart (Dragon Ball; mostly abandoned kakavegebulchi fic where i was trying to work out some interactions between vegeta and chichi, but it didn't really go anywhere)

But she’d learned to hide the dual-colored skin and petrified flesh, learned to turn her weak heartbeat into the most effective possum-playing imaginable.

-Narfi Nada (MCU; crack avengers 1 au where all the avengers sans thor are loki's myth kids, but all of them are so busy trying to hide it from everyone (especially thor and loki) that none of them pick up on each other; thor and loki absolutely pick up on it and promptly jump to the conclusion that they need to keep it secret from each other; basically the whole thing is an excuse to give fury a migraine)

Expectation and reality had played out simultaneously.

-Sandpipers Standing in a Marsh in the Autumn Twilight (Durarara!!; post-ketsu fic; izaya and shizuo not being friends and not coping and also bitching about shinra)

One thing Orihara Kyōko’s son inherited from her was a sense of playfulness, with a subtly competitive edge. This is not to say that her husband was a boring person, or even that he didn’t enjoy games as well, but the playfulness that Orihara Shirō had was significantly closer to the average desire for enjoyment experienced by most humans, as opposed to the playfulness that functioned as a core personality trait for both his wife and eldest child.

By the time Izaya turned five a few months later, he’d developed a habit of only asking his mother when he wanted to play a game. When she’d first offered to involve his father, Izaya had scoffed and told her that he didn’t think “that man” was intelligent enough for him to bother playing with.

He did, eventually, realize that his father wasn’t actually as dull as he’d first thought, but by then the game of finding new ways to not spend time with his father had become far more entertaining than any pre-established game they could have played together.

This last bit is not how the game usually worked, but it was how the Orihara family had ended up playing it.

In both kakurenbo and western hide-and-seek, the seeker closes their eyes and counts to ten (or another agreed upon number, usually determined via angry children who do not feel that ten seconds is enough time to find a suitable thing to hide behind on the playground).

Perhaps, had Izaya confronted her about this, she would have explained to him that adults had more experience in just about everything that a young child, and therefore all of them had to pretend the playing field was even in order for the child to continue enjoying the game.

Assuming her son was merely playing with her, Kyōko sighed and continued the search, occasionally calling out that the game was over and he can come out now.

He did regret not having brought snacks or something to do while he hid, but he resolved to do just that the next time he played kakurenbo.

Two days after brilliantly foiling his mother’s plan to win at kakurenbo, Orihara Izaya emerged from hiding and wandered into the kitchen, too hungry to keep playing his brilliant game.

-The Intricacies of a Rainbow-Colored Lemniscate (Durarara!!; post-ketsu; basically izaya is autistic and it changes nothing but his parents would very much like to know why their son is missing presumed dead)

ok, onto the next word! "don't" is a word i expect to show up a lot, so i can't promise to share every sentence. but we'll see.

“Don’t do drugs.”

“I don’t know much about depression, but I do know that it can lead people to turn to drugs or alcohol,” his mom says, and it dawns on Gohan that she’s entirely serious.

“I don’t care whose side he’s on now, that man is–” Gohan realizes how that had sounded and almost chokes, raising his hands to pacify his mother.

“I don’t mean I’d ask him for help. ..."

His mother and grandfather, who don’t live in his head and hadn’t made those connections, just stare at him.

-Men of Tin, chapter 1: Where We Were When the Lights Went Out (Dragon Ball; off to a great start)

He’ll get himself in trouble sooner or later, and they don’t need to give anybody any excuses to get rid of them.

It suddenly dawns on her that the clothes she’s wearing don’t actually belong to her.

"I… don’t know if that’s a good idea. ..."

“Well, technically, I don’t sleep, but I’m homeless again, so…”

“I don’t know,” she says, because she really doesn’t.

“I don’t really have anything else. ..."

“In any case, Eighteen, I don’t have a spare bed at the moment. I hope you don’t mind the couch until we can find a bed for you.” “I don’t really need to sleep,” Eighteen says.

-Men of Tin, chapter 2: Pretty Broken Things (Dragon Ball; oh yeah this fic isn't just about gohan btw there's chichi/18 and also vegeta having a breakdown in the background)

You don’t know how to either, little monkey, Frieza hisses at him.

"... I don’t want either of you to get hurt, but–”

Men of Tin, chapter 3: The People We Knew Long Ago (Dragon Ball; vegeta is coping great thanks for asking)

“Don’t scare him,” Chichi scolds, shaking her head at the cyborg.

“Don’t talk like–” Temper snapping, Vegeta whirls around, palm crackling with power.

“I don’t think he wants to talk right now, honey,” Panchy says, glancing between her daughter and the prince.

“You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to, sweetie,” Panchy’s voice cuts through his thoughts.

"... Don’t concern yourself with whether or not you are worth my time. ..."

"... We can spend the morning getting to know Gohan, but please don’t overwhelm the poor boy.”

“I don’t mind, Ms. Bai.”

-Men of Tin, chapter 4: Elementary School Blues (Dragon Ball; gohan is so sweet and vegeta is probably rabid; also that's nappa talking in the second sentence)

Zarbon drags him off somewhere, and Nappa and Raditz don’t see him again for nearly a month.

“Don’t sneak up on me!”

I don’t think he usually talks like that.

-Men of Tin, chapter 5: Brick By Broken Brick (Dragon Ball; vegeta is totally one hundred percent in the present and not at all having flashbacks he's doing great stupendous super even)

“You don’t own a watch, Kakarot. ..."

“Beyond that, I don’t recall any such thing. ..."

"... I don’t believe we had any annual celebrations like birthdays – if we did, it likely would have been a celebration of the birth itself, which would have been considered the mother’s battle, not the child’s. ..."

"... I don’t believe I ever met her in person, though, so I can’t speak much to what she was actually like. ..."

"... I simply don’t wish to refer to a Saiyan by a non-Saiyan name when he has a perfectly good proper name. ..."

-Around the World in 365 Days (Dragon Ball; there's actually one other sentence with "don't" but i chose not to include that one bc it's borderline incoherent out of context)

“Well, I don’t remember the exact district,” his cousin admits.

"... I don’t even think most of ‘em know my name.”

“Well, don’t worry, Lord Kuchiki, I’m sure you’ll catch up to me eventually.”

“We just don’t know much about Rukongai, so we weren’t sure if anyone too far out there knew how to read.”

“And assumin’ things ‘bout people ya don’t know ain’t very polite.”

“I don’t know for sure,” she says, as she walks alongside the older girl who had graciously offered to walk her to her next class (probably for gossip, which Rangiku is very much okay with).

"... I don’t know if he’s ever even touched a sword before, but… I dunno, he’s always been smart. ..."

"... You go around and look at things in windows but you don’t actually spend any money!”

"... We don’t like being cooped up, either. ..."

“Don’t ignore us!” The sound of teeth snapping might have startled him if he hadn’t gotten used to it ages ago. “We don’t belong here!” We don’t belong anywhere, though.

"... I’m afraid I don’t have my own name at present.”

“You don’t have to, though,” she adds with a wink.

-Dreamcatcher (Bleach; gin and byakuya's first meeting goes impeccably, no class warfare at all)

I don’t know what to do.

((I don’t want to hurt anyone))

Except his don’t move, because they are markings and not– whatever this is.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says finally.

The now-voiceless hollow had needed words, but the others don’t.

They don’t have the stamina or the manpower to fight another opponent, she knows.

-Frost Line (Bleach; basically orihime loses her shit when ulquiorra kills ichigo and maybe kinda sorta usurps aizen as arc bad guy; also rukihime endgame)

“I don’t really have the full picture of what happened, so I don’t know if–”

She has Goku drop her off at Capsule Corp before sending him back to keep the boys company (and make sure they don’t stay up too late, though she doubts that that will be as much of a problem as it usually is).

"... I don’t– I don’t think– Cheech, he didn’t recognize me. ..."

"... I don’t know what to do, I don’t know how I’m s-supposed to f-f-fix this, I–”

"... I ain’t a psychologist, but I know it don’t work like that. ..."

"... Maybe they will, but that’s a lotta unnecessary stress on people who don’t deserve to carry that. I ain’t sayin’ you should leave him or that you don’t love him, I’m sayin’ you gotta set a line for what ain’t gonna fly. He should too; we all need to. But you’re the one he might listen to, ‘cause he ain’t listenin’ to Goku and I don’t imagine he’ll be interested in listenin’ to me.”

“Y’don’t go through all that an’ come out okay, Bulma, you just don’t. ..."

“Not sayin’ I don’t care about him. ..."

-Good Ideas Will Tear Your Brain Apart (Dragon Ball; chichi's accent is so freaking hard for me gah)

“JARVIS, don’t let Fury talk to me before ten am,” he says, not processing any of what the man had actually said.

“You don’t wanna help redecorate another borough?” Tony asks innocently.

Nat and Steve don’t follow, but that’s fine.

“I’m not saying it was the nicest table I’ve ever seen,” Loki is saying when Iron Man arrives on scene (before Cap, and possibly also before Nat, but Tony is well aware that not being able to see her doesn’t actually mean anything), “but I don’t really think the design was that offensive.”

“You don’t appear injured,” Loki crouches down next to her.

"... I don’t recall having ordered a side of civilian causalities.”

“I don’t have anything to say to you.” Hawkeye tells him flatly.

“I don’t pretend to know his gender identity, but statistically, I believe you are most likely correct. ..."

"... Please say no, I don’t need to deal with that again.”

"... You’re supposed to be in– I don’t know, wherever Asgard puts its wannabe dictators.”

"... This world’s Loki probably just needs… oh, I don’t know. ..."

“She won’t do anything, I don’t think,” she adds.

“And might I say, Captain, I hope you don’t feel the need to treat me differently simply because my form has changed. ..."

-Oh, Ye of Little Grace (MCU; pretty much abandoned idea of aoa!loki ending up in the mcu)

“Is it the one where you don’t think I’m a monster anymore?” he asks.

“True. You don’t fall for anything I say, huh?” “I just don’t listen most of the time. I’ve known you were full of shit since day one.”

“If you don’t already know, that’s probably the most concerning thing, actually.”

"... Looks like you don’t know everything after all.”

"... Don’t tell, Shizu-chan.”

Don’t talk about Celty like that

Don’t be absurd.

…I don’t like that you guessed that so quickly

"... We don’t even talk that much. ..."

“I don’t think he’s ever asked. ..."

"... I don’t think he would either way, though.”

"... I don’t know if there’s anything they could’ve done about that. ..."

"... Shi– oww, hey, don’t do that! ..."

-Sandpipers Standing in a Marsh in the Autumn Twilight (Durarara!!)

i'm gonna end it here bc this has gone on long enough. shame on you for picking such a common word lol

#ask game #dbz #mcu #durarara!!

3 notes · View notes

rafalestorm413 · 1 year

Text

Wonder Tummy Jisung Chapter 10 Requiem

TW: Lab experience on human being, burping, blood,

Two months had passed since Bangchan found Jisung. The April sun was timidly breaking through the clouds and the sunn days were returning. When he went out, Jisung was almost always accompanied, for safety. Bangchan feared that scientists would try to find him.

Jisung, who had completely forgotten his previous life, knew nothing of the experiences he had undergone, except in the midst of a crisis. He rarely did, but in those cases he was completely elsewhere and only Minho could calm him down.

The young man seemed to enjoy going to the park with Minho. But what they both didn't know was that the lab was right next door. It was a building, which from the outside looked like any other structure in the city. After a few days, a lady approached Minho, her eyes fixed on Jisung who was leaning on the edge of a pond looking for fish.

"Excuse me, this young man who is with you. We would like to talk to him."

"Oh yes, and who are you?"

The park was suddenly empty. Only Minho, Jisung and the two strangers remained. Jisung turned towards them and when he saw them, he started shaking uncontrollably, as the man hugged him. He began to examine him carefully, while the woman planted a tranquilizer dart in Minho who was about to throw himself at the man. They left Minho in the grass, taking Jisung to the building he had forgotten about during the last two months of his life.

After recovering his senses, Minho quickly returned home. He couldn't save Jisung alone, but together with six friends, they had a chance. After opening the door, he yelled:

"JISUNG HAS BEEN TAKEN BY SCIENTISTS!"

Changbin jumped up. A terrified expression appeared on Hyunjin's face. A month ago he wouldn't have worried. But Jisung was his friend now. Within moments, the seven friends were in the car, on their way to the lab. They had to save their little protege. Despite Jisung's differences, they all loved him very much and the thought of losing him was unbearable. Minho hoped that it wasn't too late.

In the lab, Jisung was undergoing inhuman torture. The woman had just stabbed him in the stomach, making him scream in pain. A funny matter coming out of the wound seemed to make the scientists happy, ignoring Jisung's pain.

"Blubber has formed in his belly. Incredible, the transformation is more than successful."

Annoyed by the whining of their "monster", she injected him with a powerful liquid, supposed to calm him down. One dose too much and death was guaranteed.

Speechless, eyes wide-eyed, Jisung was hard to see. His tongue hung out of his mouth and he gasped as the man forced him to swallow a stick of dynamite. A loud belch sent the explosive crashing into a wall.

"What incredible strength, he's perfect. It's a masterpiece !"

The wound he had in his stomach was dangerous and made him suffer. His sight got worse and worse, he and tried to speak, but his tongue seemed completely out of order. He couldn't articulate a single word and he looked horribly stupid.

The door opened abruptly. He thought he saw Changbin knock the scientist out, but he wasn't sure. His vision was failing and the blood was circulating badly in his brain. He was fainting as Bangchan tied the scientist to a chair. Then, he punched the woman.

"You didn't see anything~"

Jisung heard Seungmin and Jeongin's voices, as if he was far away from him.

"How does a penguin live without blubber?…"

"Well… It can't…"

Then nothing.

There was blood everywhere and large chunks of blubber with Jisung barely breathing in the middle of the mess. His lungs were wheezing and he was losing a lot of blood. Large purple circles surrounded his eyes. He was more dead than alive…

It wasn't until several days later that Jisung opened his eyes. He felt horribly weak and his mouth was so pasty he still couldn't speak. His favorite stuffed animal was next to him, along with Minho's. Looking down at his stomach, he noticed he had a scar that was just beginning to heal. His body had produced blubber to replace the one the scientists had taken from him and this one was even fluffier than the old one. However, the pain was still there. He saw Minho come in with fish soup.

"You are awake… I was so scared…"

He set the soup to the side and hugged him tenderly before bursting into tears. He was careful not to hurt him.

"Mi… Minho… What happened?… Why does it hurt…"

He started to cough a little. He had vague memories of what had happened and didn't seem to remember what had happened to him.

"It was the scientists… They… They got you and for their experiments they wanted to tear your blubber off… You could have died…"

"Hmm…"

Minho ran his hand over Jisung's soft belly. He smiles.

"It's fluffier than before~"

"Thank you~"

Jisung closed his eyes, letting Minho's hands roam his belly. The moment he touched a particularly swollen spot, a huge burp suddenly erupted from Jisung's mouth, releasing a large beach ball.

"It was stuck…"

Minho laughed softly and gently rested his head on his stomach, as Jisung ate his soup. He had horrible purple circles under his eyes. The blood he had lost had tired him…

The night was quite restless. Several times, Minho turned on the light to console him, reassure him and promise him that nothing will happen to him. But the damage was already done, the memories were engraved in the unconscious of the young man. Was there a place for him somewhere in this world?

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #burping kink #burping #bang chan #lee minho #lee know #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #han jisung #lee felix #kim seungmin #yang jeongin

4 notes · View notes

electricbluebutterflies · 11 months

Note

Joel/Tess + taking care of them when it's hard for them to do it themself

PG-ish and also on ao3.

They develop routines, as time passes and months turn into years turn into a shared life.

There are a few days of the year, consistent enough to plan around, that are always bad and… Tess has never thought to ask more than that, as she’s accepted patterns. Everyone has their ghosts. The annual remembrances are probably connected to the nightmares, but maybe not – more things she doesn’t ask, she knows her partner had a kid once and any mention of that makes him tense so she just doesn’t and-

The midwinter ritual comes, and by now she’s got all of this under perfect control.

She knows it’s coming when the nightmares get worse. Her own dreams veer nonexistent – she’s seen horrors same as anyone else but never anyone she loved and that makes it easier to numb – and she sleeps light, easy to wake up if she’s needed. Not that he’d ever say, not that that stubborn man could actually admit what she adds to his life, but-

The night she gets woken up twice is enough of a sign that they’re in for it. She’s braced for a couple days, laid what supplies she can, tried to steady herself enough to be the goddamn strong one for a day and a half and the worst part is she doesn’t expect anything in return, the worst part is these incidents make her feel alive and useful and loved and-

This isn’t about her. Until the clouds pass, nothing is about her.

She waits up after the second one, the early-morning light slipping through the curtain she needs to mend, and lets herself have this quiet. Be calm. Be the most stable thing in the world and the only thing in the world and-

She’s positioned herself to be the first thing he sees when he wakes up again and she is, and there’s pain in his eyes that she wants to take and she can’t, she is not enough she has never been enough she is not-

“I’m here,” she murmurs, wrapping her body around his as best she can. “I’m here. Nothing can happen to us.”

All she can do is be close and be calm, give touch and not make this more of an issue. Food will be important later but not now, not when her lover can’t speak because his mind isn’t safe, not-

“Eyes on me. I’m just getting another blanket.”

Two blankets, actually – this winter isn’t fucking around, and if she’s going to nest she’s going to do it right – draped evenly over the bed and she’s never been detail-oriented but it’s at least kinda even and it’ll all look wrong once her body’s back under the pile anyways so-

“You don’t have to-“

“Shut up and let me be good at this.”

There’s no equivalent, she knows – the closest she’s ever come to this kind of episode was her fortieth birthday last year, which ended up being a shitshow for reasons having almost nothing to do with the existential crisis of reaching middle age and yes that night did end with her crying in the bathroom but by that point it was more physical pain than emotional – but it’s alright. He’ll repay her by doing every bit of damage control she asks for the next month without any questions whatsoever, by being a little more tactile for a couple days, maybe find a flower somewhere and pretend they’re romantic pretend they’re in love pretend-

They’re not perfect, but some days they get close enough for her to believe.

“Get back here,” he says after a few moments too long. “If you’re gonna cling, cling.”

“I’m not…”

“Tess-“

So much for not making things about her. So much for being good at this.

Maybe next time, one of the annual horrors that happens when it’s actually warm outside, she’ll come up with some kind of distraction. Something that isn’t hibernation. Something that isn’t necessarily how she wants to spend a day.

But this is what she’s got right now, and she decides to stop while she’s ahead and get back under the blankets and get her hands up his shirt over his heart and this is how she proves herself, this is how she’s spent ten years being so damn patient and a good girlfriend even if that’s not what she officially is and-

Not about her. Goddamn. Focus.

Not much to do right now, just stay close and keep her mouth shut. Wait it out.

“Not going anywhere,” she murmurs, unsure he even hears her. “Not ever.”

#ebf writes fic #joel x tess #queue

3 notes · View notes