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batneko · 3 years

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Occupied

little bit of hurt/comfort for the soul after that last OPM chapter. Not technically a spoiler, but will make more sense if you’ve read it.

also not technically zombiemask but you could certainly see the seeds of it there if you’re looking.

words: 2469 rating: E for Everyone

Amai Mask has a breakdown and Zombieman does what he can

Whatever the argument was, it had gotten both Amai Mask and Tatsumaki pretty heated. Which, given their personalities, didn't mean much. It could have been over something as simple as the last peach tea in the vending machine.

Hopefully not. Zombieman liked peach tea.

He could have gone around, doubled back and used the elevator, but all he could hear was shouting and insults. Hadn't escalated to violence yet. And he might be able to calm things down a little, or at least distract them from each other. As much as he didn't want to risk breaking the new phone he'd just gotten issued, again, Zombieman didn't mind taking some of the heat.

He turned the corner in time to hear Amai say something about split ends, and then suddenly fall silent. It took a few steps before Zombieman was sure what he was seeing. Something was writhing up his neck, wrapped around his head and mouth, as Tatsumaki gestured in his direction.

“Okay, that's enough out of you,” she said. “Looks like your stupid accessorizing is good for something for once.”

The thing was a scarf, Zombieman realized. Tatsumaki was using part of Amai's own outfit to gag him. Mean, but a little funny, and probably harmless.

Except... Amai looked awfully distressed. He was clawing at the fabric, eyes wide and panicked, and he stumbled backward until he hit the wall.

“Let him go,” Zombieman said.

“What?” Tatsumaki glanced over her shoulder at him. “Oh, it's fine, he started it.”

“Let him go,” Zombieman said again.

“He can breathe! He's just being a baby!”

Amai's eyes darted around, but they swept over Zombieman like he wasn't even there.

Or like Amai wasn't here.

Zombieman closed the last few steps and took Amai by the shoulder, grabbing a fistful of fabric and doing his best to pull it away from the man's mouth. It didn't work, at first, Tatsumaki's powers much stronger than Zombieman's hands, but he heard her sigh and the scarf abruptly fell away.

Amai hunched over, gasping for breath, red marks on his neck and cheeks where he'd managed to scratch himself through the thin material. He suddenly started struggling, trying to tear the thing off his body, and Zombieman helped as best he could by lifting the largest loop over his head.

“Yikes, really?” Tatsumaki said out loud. “I thought you could breathe, okay? What's the matter? Too many nose jobs?”

“Shut up,” Amai wheezed. He flung the scarf as far away as he could – which wasn't very, given that it was thin fabric and almost entirely unwound. Then leaned back against the wall, clutching at the collar of his shirt.

He was trembling, badly, his knees almost knocking together. Zombieman knew a panic attack when he saw one, but if Tatsumaki wanted to believe it was oxygen deprivation he wasn't going to be the one to correct her.

He returned his hand to Amai's shoulder, but Amai smacked it away. “Don't touch me.”

“Okay.”

Amai stood, more or less straight, and walked away without another glance at Tatsumaki. Compared to his usual confident stride, Amai was practically stumbling. He hadn't made it far before Zombieman decided to follow him, especially not when he saw Amai reach out and touch the wall to steady himself.

“Fine then!” Tatsumaki called after them. “Guess I win!”

Amai didn't react. Zombieman was half-tempted to flip her off in his place, but it was best not to antagonize her and drag this out.

As expected, the moment they were around the corner and out of her sight Amai crumpled in on himself. One hand braced on the wall, the other pulled in to his chest, breath coming fast and labored. Zombieman made sure to step heavily and walk a wide circle around Amai before he entered his line of sight.

“Hey,” he said, quietly.

Amai glared at him through his long bangs. There weren't tears in his eyes, but it looked like a close thing.

“Y'okay?”

“Fine,” Amai growled.

“You want help?”

“No.”

“I mean just, you want me to remind you where the nearest men's room is?”

After a moment, and a sound like a pained animal from the back of his through, Amai nodded.

Zombieman reached out, but Amai didn't take his hand. He straightened up and looked at him expectantly, and Zombieman gave a sharp nod and began to lead the way.

It wasn't far. In a building where this many people worked, there were at least a couple per floor. And Zombieman always remembered, because they tended to be close to the smoking lounges and vending machines – everything the staff might need on their breaks in one area.

Luckily the hallways were mostly deserted. Zombieman was pretty sure clearing the floor was protocol whenever Tatsumaki was yelling at someone. Nobody to see Amai in a condition that he, no doubt, would view as disgraceful.

Once they were in view of the sign (though it took Amai longer to notice than Zombieman) Amai strode past him and through the door. Zombieman followed, despite knowing full well Amai wouldn't want him to see him like this either.

He wouldn't have been surprised if Amai shut himself in one of the stalls, but he went straight for a sink, turning the water on and splashing his face. Damp hands ran over his jaw and neck, as if washing away the feeling of the scarf on his skin.

“What?” Amai said, meeting Zombieman's eyes in the mirror.

Zombieman shrugged.

“I appreciate your help,” the words sounded pained, “but I am fine. I would have been fine without it. Leave me alone.”

“No,” Zombieman said, simply. “But you can do whatever you gotta, you know. Feels better if you get it out, so they say.”

“There's nothing to get out.”

“You can cry, or puke, or curl up and shake for a while. No judgment.”

Amai looked scandalized, nearly approaching an expression Zombieman was used to from him. “I am not going to- to any of those!”

Zombieman shrugged again, checked that he could lock the door (he could, and did) and dug a cigarette out of his pockets. “Well, I'll be here.”

He lit up, watching Amai wash his face again and again. “Wash” might not be the right word, since he didn't use the soap, but he'd spend a significant amount of time splashing and rubbing, then stare at his reflection for a while, then go back to the water.

Zombieman had made it through half a cig by the time he was done.

“Better?” he asked.

“Shut up,” Amai said.

He didn't look much better. He'd stopped trembling, mostly, but his eyes were red and puffy and the rest of him was pale. Even his lips were almost white.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Obviously not.”

“Sometimes it helps. Putting things into words lets you understand them better.”

“I understand exactly what's happening,” Amai said through gritted teeth. “It's just ridiculous.”

“Why's it ridiculous?” Zombieman asked.

“Because it is!” Amai faced him for the first time. “Because I'm fine! I recovered, I didn't- You don't break down every time you're reminded of your near-misses, do you?”

Zombieman took a long drag off his cigarette, tapping the ash into a sink. “I don't get that many near misses. I tend to just get killed. That's why you shouldn't compare yourself to me, I'm an outlier, I don't count.”

“So, what?” Amai folded his arms, leaning his hip against the counter. “You're not afraid because you know you can't die?”

“I'm afraid of lots of things.” Zombieman tilted his head. “Okay, three things. I'm afraid of acid, because if I'm dissolved completely even I won't come back. And I'm afraid of seeing my friends hurt and killed.”

“It's not the same,” Amai muttered.

“I guess not.”

“Has that ever happened? Have you lost someone?”

“I have,” Zombieman said simply.

“Oh.” Amai was quiet for a moment. His color was starting to come back, though his eyes were still red. “What's the third?”

Zombieman had been hoping he wouldn't remember that. “Hm?” he asked, stubbing out his cigarette and running it under water before he threw it in the trash. Didn't want to risk starting a fire.

“The third thing you're afraid of,” Amai pressed.

“Did I say three?”

“You did.”

Zombieman considered the damp dog-end, lying on top of crumpled paper towels in the men's room garbage. It wasn't the only one, he could see a few ends poking out below the detritus.

“There's a person responsible for me being the way I am. And I wasn't the only... experiment, of his.”

“That's what you're afraid of? One of his experiments?”

“No,” Zombieman said. He sighed, and turned back to face Amai. “I was the only survivor. I saw him kill dozens of people, just like me, to see if he'd succeeded in creating immortality.”

Amai blinked. He turned his face, as if Zombieman wouldn't see him wiping away the tears that were still lingering. “I see. It's only natural you'd be afraid of him, after something like that.”

“It doesn't mean I don't hate myself for it, sometimes. He can't hurt me anymore. And I finally tracked him down recently, he's not going to hurt anyone anymore.”

Amai's eyebrows rose. “Did you kill him?” Zombieman opened his mouth. “No, no, don't tell me. I need plausible deniability.”

“I didn't,” Zombieman said, though he smiled. “He's changed, so he says. Not sure if I believe him, but he knows I'm watching now.”

Amai snorted, though it seemed to be wetter than he intended, and Zombieman pretended he didn't notice him frantically wiping his nose with a handkerchief.

“You really are a good hero, aren't you?” Amai said. He sounded... almost wistful.

“Hey, if you're saying it that must be true.”

Amai nodded, and as he tucked his handkerchief back into a pocket his other hand drifted to his neck. “Do you ever get... this? Memories you can't shake? Memories that shake you?”

“Used to. Not so much anymore.”

He nodded, again. Zombieman noticed the tightening of his fingers a second before Amai's knees gave out, not quick enough to catch him before he hit the floor.

“Hey! Hey,” Zombieman knelt beside him. “Whoa, you're okay.”

“Why?” Amai demanded of no one. He had enough presence of mind to keep his bare hands off the bathroom floor, but they were clenched on his knees as tightly as his eyes were screwed shut. “Why can I still feel it? Humans aren't supposed to remember pain!”

“It'll fade,” Zombieman promised. “I know that better than anyone.”

“That thing's hands, that- that disgusting creature!”

“I know, I know,” Zombieman said, as soothingly as he could. He wanted to rub Amai's back, but he'd been told not to touch him and he didn't know if it was part of the trigger.

“They're dead and gone, and I'm still here, so why...” One hand pressed to his mouth to stifle a sob, and jerked away a second later.

Mouth, that was the problem. Being gagged.

“Okay, c'mere,” Zombieman said. He shuffled around on his knees until he was more-or-less next to Amai, and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him (with surprisingly little resistance) into a side-hug. “Good?”

Amai mumbled something, but didn't try to escape.

“I told you it was okay to cry it out.”

“Not crying,” Amai muttered, and it was technically true. Aside from the moisture shaken loose earlier, and whatever was hidden by his repeated face-washing, Amai hadn't shed a single tear.

“Okay, well, y'know. Still no judgment.”

“Shuddup,” Amai said into Zombieman's shirt.

They sat there for a while. Amai still wasn't crying, exactly, but his breathing was harsh and occasionally stuttered, as if holding back sobs. Somebody, at one point, tried the door, but Zombieman yelled “Occupied!” in his most intimidating voice and whoever it was ran away.

He'd apologize if he ever found out.

Once Amai was calmed down, which really only took a few minutes but had probably felt longer for both of them, he pushed Zombieman away and lurched to his feet. Zombieman followed, knees popping as he stood. He dusted them off, remembering a moment too late what kind of floor he'd been kneeling on, and went to wash his hands.

Amai was doing the same, staring at himself in the mirror as he did. He was all flushed now, pink and blotchy like he'd been sponge-painted. There was no such thing as a genuinely pretty crier, Zombieman thought to himself, whether or not Amai had really cried. Everyone got snotty, everyone turned red, everyone was equally ugly.

“You want some water?” Zombieman said. “I'll get you a bottle from the machine, yeah?”

Amai nodded.

“Okay. Be right back.”

There didn't seem to be anybody around (had they evacuated again? Was he that scary?) so Zombieman allowed himself a moment to think about it. Amai would like the most expensive one, right? But it was a large bottle, so maybe it was only pricey for being big. Did mineral water count?

In the end, Zombieman got the big one, and a peach tea for himself. Even not-crying had to dehydrate a guy. He knocked on the bathroom door before he opened it...

And though he really shouldn't have been surprised, still was when he found it empty. Amai was gone.

He checked the stalls to be sure. And then the smoking lounge, in case somebody in there had seen him go, but that was empty too. It took several corridors before he found a staff member, and then Zombieman couldn't bring himself to ask. They'd just want to know why Zombieman was looking for Amai in the first place.

He gave the guy his newly-purchased bottle of water and headed for the exit, making one pit-stop to see if he could find Amai's abandoned scarf. It was gone.

Amai hadn't wanted Zombieman to see him like that. He hadn't wanted anyone to see him like that, no matter how much Zombieman said it was fine. And it was fine, Zombieman had already figured out Amai was mostly talk. But... this was fine too. Wanting to keep up his walls. Not wanting to be vulnerable. It was a natural thing.

He told himself it didn't matter, and he wasn't hurt. But he didn't enjoy the peach tea very much.

Should've bought the cheap one.

#one punch man #opm #amai mask #sweet mask #zombieman #batfics #hurt/comfort

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saturnsovereign · 7 years

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all da ice cream asks

leggo

chocolate: when was your first kiss?

birthday slumber party, summer of 2015

french vanilla: how old are you?

cotton candy: three places you want to travel to?

Canada, disney world, Paris

strawberry: a language you wish you could speak?

Dutch

coffee: favorite cosmetic brands?

I don’t really have one... maybe maybelline? 😆

mint chocolate chip: indoors or outdoors?

indoors but depends on mood

cookie dough: do you play any instruments?

the drums

rocky road: favorite songs at the moment?

OK- Robin Schulz ft. James Blunt, Santa Cruz- Pat Magada ft. Avoly

butter pecan: favorite songs for life?

DJ Got Us Fallin in Love- Usher, The Nights- Avicii

cheesecake: what's your zodiac sign?

Capricorn

toasted coconut: the beach or the pool?

both? maybe pool bc i can grab on to ledges bc im short but beach bc i like waves

chocolate chip: what's your most popular post?

its on guardapprentice blog and its me thinking about if guard was on ice 😆

bubblegum: books or movies?

movies, i havent read a lot of books of late

pistachio: manga or anime?

neither.. maybe anime bc of OPM and Avatar

salted caramel: favorite movies?

Treasure Planet, Brother Bear, Beauty and the Beast, Power Rangers and theres more i just cant think of it at the top of my head

birthday cake: favorite books?

its been so long since i last read a book for my own pleasure so idk

moose tracks: favorites for manga?

dont read any

orange sherbet: favorites for anime?

OPM bc i was bored and Avatar series

peanut butter: favorite academic subject?

Science

black raspberry: do you have any pets?

mango: when and why did you start your blog?

it was like back in 7th grade and it was bc of the House of Anubis fandom

mocha: ideal weather conditions?

something around 70ºF and not too much sun but bright with a calm breeze

black cherry: four words that describe you?

dork, small, gay, potato

neapolitan: things that stress you out?

being late, ss, tests, drama, my parents

raspberry truffle: favorite kind of music?

i dont really have any genres tbh

chocolate marshmallow: favorite brands of candy?

the gays from the movie

toffee: a card game that you're good at?

speed

lemon custard: do you eat breakfast?

yea

dark chocolate: turn ons?

my gf

fudge: turn offs?

idk

peach: how do you relax?

i watch a movie or something

praline: a popular book you haven't read yet?

idk

superman: do you like sweaters?

yeah

cherry: do you drink tea or coffee?

coffee

dulce de leche: an instrument you wish you could play?

Piano

blackberry: have you ever laughed so hard you cried?

just a few days i was laughing about ANUSgelica with my gf

ginger: a new feature you wish tumblr could have?

idk

blueberry lemon: favorite blogs?

my gf’s

almond: favorite mean girls quote?

We should totally just stab Caesar!

butterscotch: what color are your nails right now?

i dont paint my nails

cinnamon: have you ever been confessed to?

yeah

blue moon: have you ever had a crush on someone?

cappuccino crunch: do you take naps?

too many too often tbh

mint: the most embarrassing thing you've ever done?

idk its not in my memory bank at the moment

brownie batter: do you like sushi?

yeah

key lime: where do you want to be right now?

in my gf’s arms and on her bed so i can cuddle her

red velvet: do you wear prescription glasses?

oh boy do i

green tea: favorite flavors of ice cream?

rocky road!!!

#message #anon #personal #Anonymous

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choisaeyung · 7 years

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tagged by @torihaizu im sorry it took me so long to respond (a month im ashamed!!)

rules: answer the 20 questions and tag 20 amazing followers people you would like to get to know better!

(more under read more)

name: leah / eunjin nickname: egg zodiac sign: virgo height: 5′5″ orientation: pan ethnicity: korean favorite fruit: apples / bananas / stawberries / mangoes favorite season: summer changing to autumn favorite book series: artemis fowl / mysterious benedict society favorite flowers: peach blossom favorite scent: vanilla / clean sheets favorite color: pink / blue / red / purple favorite animal: foxes / cats / dogs coffee, tea, or hot chocolate: all! average sleep hours: 1-3 hours cat or dog person: b oth favorite fictional characters: kazemaru (inazuma) / nitori (free!) / chuuya (bungou) / genos (opm) / hanayo (love live) / kidou (kagerou) number of blankets you sleep with: a nest of ‘em dream trip: heading to korea this summer! blog created: 2013 number of followers: an amount im grateful for!

tagging: @saintyaint @monarchofmadnezzzzzz @doephin @ttalon @namjinne @whaile (and you too!! start a chain yourself!!!)

#personal #about me #update #thanks andy ;; v; ;

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santenkeshun · 7 years

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Get to Know You Ask Meme

Rules | Answer the 20 questions and tag 20 amazing followers you’d like to get to know better!

I was tagged by @dismemberme

Name: Lynn

Nicknames: UGH, it’s frustrated me all my life that my name is not easy to associate with a nickname, so people resort to calling me Lynnie, which is seriously a pet peeve of mine.

Zodiac Sign: Virgo

Height: 173 cms :’) i really love my height and my long legs

Orientation: straight

Nationality: Syrian

Favorite Fruit: I can’t choose, I absolutely love watermelon, peaches, fuji apples, strawberries. If you get me a watermelon drink, freshly pressed, I’ll love you forever

Favorite Season: Probably autumn, where the harsh summer days (i lived in freaking deserts all my life) start to become less frequent and you can really appreciate a nice cool breeze, get to walk on fallen autumn leaves and just enjoy nature without the overwhelming need to rush indoors. Can I tell you how much I hate overwhelming humidity?? Especially when it’s over 80%

Favorite Book: can you tell I suck at making any formed decisions? I’m a huge bookworm, and right now I’m reading Dune by Frank Herbert. I read mostly fiction but can enjoy some non-fiction books time to time. The Witcher books are up next on my list

Favorite Flower: Jasmines and the Damask rose, plus I bought some hortensias for my balcony that are super cute?

Favorite Scent: citrus scents, floral overtones, the smell of baked goods and scented baby powder and when my husband doesn’t pay attention, I like breathing in his scent, it makes me feel really calm

Favorite Color: if I had to stick to one..probably green

Favorite animal: cats, especially when it’s big cats acting like small cats. and i really enjoy watching derpy little goldfish do their thing?

Coffee, tea, or hot cocoa: I could always go for tea, as long as it has sugar and I mean heaps of it. I can’t handle bitter tastes, which is probably why i’d never go for coffee

Average sleep hours: right now, probably 6 hours

Cat or dog person: Meow

Favorite fictional character: I really have a thing for conflicted and troubled characters that need some sort of healing, nurture and love. (ahhh Rob says I have a huge savior complex, probably very accurate about me) And also really cocky types of characters that you could just have a wild adventure with and tons of laughs. And maybe aloof characters?

Some examples: Guts and Casca (Berserk), Joseph Joestar, Garrus , garen and shyvanna, dante and vergil (both sides of the coin, mm), Satsuki Kiryuin, (kill la kill), Fubuki (OPM), Jessica Jones (probably who i’d be if i wasn’t a goody two shoes), Rogue, Nightwing, Leon (RE), Evie (The Mummy), probably a huge list that I can’t even remember right now. Scully and Mulder!! Number of blankets you sleep with: generally one, but i really love to have an extra baby blanket that you can actually breath through when I really need that extra cover for maximum coziness Dream trip: probably southeast asia, can i ride an elephant please? and maybe swim with the turtles Blog created: uh my very first blog was made in 2011, but that got deleted due to personal reasons, but I’ve been on tumblr since, i’ve literally watched this community in all it’s mystical phases Number of followers: 90 but I’m certain most of them are deleted porn blogs and bots, I used to have about 700 or so, but I’m just not as active with original content anymore, plus I hardly put myself out there Any of my followers who are up to do this really, I MET YOUR REQUEST @dismemberme, hope it was juicy enough.

#ask #gotta get back #dismemberme

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goshikisthebestboy · 7 years

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Rules: Answer the questions in a new post and tag 20 blogs you would like to know better.

tagged by @@asshijima : Thanks for tagging me I love these things!!! (≧◡≦) And sorry it took me awhile to do this I’ve been away from my laptop and this is hard to do on mobile!!!

Nickname: sam, my parents call me belly (honestly idk why at this point) Star Sign: Sagittarius Height: 173 cm Time right now: 11:37 pm Favorite music artist: Radiohead Song stuck in your head: Who I am (Whats My Name?) by Snoop Dogg (lol) Last movie watched: Get Out - wow this movie was really good Last TV show anime watched: I just started watching OPM, and I love it What are you wearing right now: adidas joggers, a big ass t-shirt and a hat When did you create your blog: this one? like a month ago maybe. My main is like 6 years old though What kind of stuff do you post: Haikyuu only...this is where I keep all my volleyball anime stuff cause I know I’d be annoying my followers on my main Do you have any other blogs: Yeah (@myradness ) Do you get asks regularly: nope Why did you choose your url: BECAUSE GOSHIKI IS THE BEST BOY and i friggin love my lil bowlcut child Gender: eh, ?? atm Hogwarts House: ??? (ive never seen/read Harry Potter cause I wasnt allowed when I was younger and now I just dont feel like it) Pokémon Team: Instinct Favourite Color: peach and black Average hours of sleep: 4-6 during the week, 9 on the weekends Lucky number: 7 (my number when I played sports) Favourite Characters: From Haikyuu: Goshiki (duh), Suga, Akaashi, Bokuto, Nishinoya, Tanaka, Fukunaga, Daishou...but honestly I have a place in my heart for like every single character from this series so I could go on... How many blankets do you sleep with: like 5 cause I am cold all the time. Fun fact I also have a space heater that I sit next to whenever I’m home cause apparently has stopped trying to keep itself warm Dream job: museum curator/researcher Followers: <50 on this one 

Imma go ahead and tag any of my followers to go ahead and do this cause I dont want to annoy you with notifications but I would love to get to know you all better!!

#ahh that was fun to do!!#whenever I get tagged it makes my heart so happy that someone would think of lil ol me #thank you again #＼(≧▽≦)／#now yall will know im a big dork so enjoy #not haikyuu

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kristei · 7 years

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Tagged by my girl @sleep-jpeg 💕

Five things you’ll find in my bag wallet, makeup bag, gudetama coin pouch, sunglasses, peach hand cream

Five things in my bedroom old drawing tablet, heater, fuzzy rug (not even fuzzy anymore), bunny slippers, like 50 notebooks

Five things you want to do in life visit different parts of the world finish pharmacy school get even more plants!! vlog my adventures take more time out of my day to spend it with others

Five things that make me happy plants, smol animals, fuzzy blankets, editing gfx/animations, when my boy calls me his lil flower!!

Five things I’m currently into extra radiant highlight, metallic hues, layering, smashbox hd foundation, people that love me too much to ever do me dirty and abandon me

Five things on my to-do list opm workout (-10kilo) send in my transcript for cal grant :( shop orders | store: shoppe kirei read manga & watch zoku natsume yuujinchou w tommy get challenger in league of legends LMAO

Five things people may not know about me smol and very passive aggressive you think i’m the sweetest human being but I'm actually BMing you :^)) i play video games!! (but i main support champs in like everything so..) watches anime/reads manga i have a pet bird that hates me :) tagging: @13lhg @kvrd @synndra @strawberry-lait @milkuei @cinnamocci

#personal #tagged #sleep-jpeg

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ilyashrayber · 6 years

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The Mission

When I first entered high school, I knew absolutely nothing. No work ethic, no plans, and perhaps most alarming, almost no friends to speak of. I was so young, and yet, it felt like the world was already closing in around me, as if some metaphorical caution tape was already cropping up on things I wanted to do and people I wanted to meet. I had no knowledge of what was around me, and even more so, it felt like I never would. But as you get older, things start to change, and you feel more and more doors open up, one after the other, in a way that could only make sense with the passage of time. If I’m coming off as vague, it is because it’s hard for someone like myself to specify exact moments when you feel validated, satisfied, and as if you’ve broken away from an almost self-imposed mental barrier. But if there was a place that embodied the transition from the timid, smelly, and raggedy boy I was to the slightly less timid, smelly, and raggedy man (by Jewish law) I am today, it would be the Mission District.

I would be remiss to bring up the Mission without addressing the growing, all-encompassing wave of change that is hitting it right now. What used to be a primarily Latinx community comprised of families, artists, and blue collar workers has been all but washed away by white software engineers in search of some strange, exoticized concept of ‘urban grit’ and ‘authenticity’. Where there once were family owned groceries, optometrists, and photo studios, I now see exorbitant pre-fixe menus, ‘organic’ clothing stores, and the occasional (read: extremely common) misuse of local history to sell me something. I am exhausted, and I don’t even live there. Additionally, the privilege of being a cis, white man is something that makes me just at fault when I do not speak up as those who are actively destroying a piece of what makes this city so dynamic. It is a tricky tightrope to walk on, and the best thing people like myself can do is listen, and help when asked, whether that is giving our time, money, or a mix of the two to help preserve the integrity, and magic, of the Mission.

I remember the first time I ever had a sleepover. It wasn’t with the kid next door to me, or at a birthday party, or even in the first 14 years of my life. Instead, my first sleepover happened in my freshman year of high school. This isn’t super uncommon among children of immigrants, but nonetheless, I felt like I was missing a key piece of the American experience. When it came to mind, before I actually went to one, I had, like most things, romanticized each and every single aspect of a sleepover. I had imagined a world where we would get to the house, only to be greeted by plates of fresh grapes, served to us on priceless marble while enjoying French brut in tall glasses. Instead, we made eggs at midnight and drank Tropicana Orange Peach Mango (henceforth known as ‘OPM’) straight from the carton. In place of sampling liquors from around the world and discussing literature, we downed Kirin Ichiban and talked about girls from our high school we would definitely want to go out with but definitely would have no idea what we would even begin to do if we ever did. Usually crouched down, in the basement, trying to stealthily sip our brew while an adult was upstairs. All this happened in a Victorian on the corner of 27th and Guerrero, a house purchased by my friend’s father for $70,000 right when he got out of the Navy in the 1970’s. It had four bedrooms, an insane kitchen leading out into the backyard, and a circular top floor window, one situated right above the bed of my friend who would always invite me over. It was through this window that I had witnessed car break-ins, smelled the waft of burritos only a couple blocks over, and totally messed with other people trying to get in at the front door. They are good, sacred memories that put a smile on my face when I remember them, both in their quality and the sheer quantity that I have of them.

The Victorian sat on the cusp of Noe Valley and the Mission, leaning more to the former when you went east and more to the latter when you went west. And boy, did we go west a lot. We would often leave the house at night, with no plan at all, burnt out from playing video games, and simply walk down Mission Street trying to process what it was we were seeing as little baby birds sprouting their wings for the first time. People were out drinking and dancing, the air had a palpable energy to it, and it seemed as if everything was right with the world. It was a sensation I knew I wouldn’t have for a long time, but I wanted it anyway. Street vendors, taquerias, and the only CEX in the city were the main draws, but it was the friendly faces, life experience, and exposure to cultures outside our own that really made us want to stay.

The stretch of 24th Street that begins on Mission and ends on Potrero is perhaps my favorite dozen or so blocks in the city. It has everything anyone could need, ever. Casa Lucas is the exclusive grocery store I shop at when my folks are out of town and I’m calling the shots, and believe me, it’s worth every penny of the Muni fare I feel disillusioned to pay. The fruits and veggies there taste better than any trustfund soulcycle hayes valley bullshit they’re trying to feed you over at Whole Foods, and at a fraction of the price. Plus, they’re the only grocery in the city I’ve found that stocks the very specific kind of kola I’ve become dependant on, imported all the way from Oaxaca. When I say that this kola fucked up my world, I am being modest in the effect it had on me.. I don’t even know the name of it, but I reach for the stuff everytime I’m on 24th because it has that kind of hold on me. Days get brighter, and nights get longer, whenever I feel the sweet, smooth liquid gold pass through me. Anyways. Moving on. Not only does 24th have the most kick-ass grocery in the entire world, they also have maybe the best cheap seafood ever, in the form of Basa Express. Ignore the sign that was made in Microsoft Paint. Appreciate the fact that this is a no frills, what you see is what you get kind of seafood place where you can grab a freshly made California roll for 5 dollars. With ceviche and sashimi being just a little bit more than that, it’s a refreshing change of pace from the recent increase of trendy seafood places with exposed wood and vintage buoys hanging everywhere. There is no exposed wood here. There is no old photo of a ship captain the owner bought on eBay. There is no lengthy description of how the fish lived and died along with a short obituary. It is just good, cheap seafood that you can feel good about eating.

Walk up and down 24th and you’ll realize the plethora of people and places that feel like hidden gems, but have been there all along. I stand by Humphry Slocombe as the best ice cream in the city, while the vast majority of my friends cry out in support of Mitchell’s, another place that is very good but in no way a competitor to Humphry and his offerings. The classic at Humphry’s is to walk in, have no idea what you want, and then have the young college kids behind the counter begrudgingly ask if you want a sample. That is just the way it works. If I can just be bougie for one second here; they have a Wine & Cheese flavor. And it’s delicious. If this is the hill I die on, so be it. After a nice little ice cream break, I like to peruse the various cultural offerings, in the forms of records and books that 24th has to offer. I always have to walk into Pyramid Records, which, dare I say, is the most finely curated selection of wax in the entire Bay Area. Is there a huge selection? No. Do they have deep discounts and unbeatable prices? Not really. But is there a dude behind the counter who compliments my sneakers everytime I’m there? Yes. There is. For myself, Pyramid has a beautiful mix of international, lounge, and soundtracks on vinyl, which just so happen to be some of my favorite genres in music. It’s all designed in a super clean, minimalist-but-nowhere-near-boring type of aesthetic. I feel like I’m in a music video for a bedroom pop artist when I’m in there, and that’s all I could ever ask for. When talking about literature however, it’s hard to beat Alley Cat, a big bookstore with a gallery and event space in the back. I’ve picked up some of my favorite graphic novels from this spot, and their mystery section makes me feel good. Adobe Books a few blocks up is great too, and it sports a much more intimate setting for falling in love with any number of books, local or not. I’ve seen many a performance inside of Adobe, ranging from Chicana poetry, all the way to a solo performance from the bassist for Real Estate. Great books, great vibe, and it always feels nice to support a place that feels like an institution. For any bookstore, that should be a slam dunk. And it is. Usually directly into my wallet.

There are tons of other great places on 24th, especially if you’re into just sitting down and having a good time. There’s the OG Philz, a coffee shop with perhaps the comfiest furniture in any cafe, and Haus, half a block down, where I may or may not have a crush on every single female barista that works there. Again, this is unconfirmed. I would really love to recommend Wise Son’s, a jewish deli with an insane breakfast salad, but every since I took edibles right before I ate there and thought I was in 1920s New Orleans, it has been a tough sell. They have a very nice restroom, however, that they’ll let you use if you ask nicely. St. Francis Fountain, a diner nearing the very end of 24th, has the best pancakes in the city. I am sorry but everyone got together and voted on it, and there will be no recount. Whether chocolate chip, banana, or even, dare I say, vegan, these guys are a home run every. Single. Time. It is almost uncanny how good they are, and are the definition of a food that is ‘good for the soul and not so much the love hips.’ Lastly, when you come up on Mission, you’ll no doubt see a line going out the door for the much beloved El Farolito. If you ask me? It’s good, but it’s definitely not my favorite. I try to explain it in terms of ice cream flavors. When you take your kid to go get ice cream, you always start with vanilla. There’s a reason it’s the default, you know? Well rounded, satisfying, and very inoffensive. I feel the exact same about El Farolito. (Cue the thinkpieces attacking me.) It is the vanilla ice cream of taquerias. My favorite, however, is also in fact on 24th, and it goes by the name of Taqueria Guadalajara. More salsa options, less rice, and juicier meat is what drives me to make this almost sacrilegious decision. Plus, there’s never a line. And that in and of itself should be celebrated.

The Mission is so, so many things. But most of all, it is not mine. And it’s probably not yours, either. I simply play, and for a little bit, worked there. There is so much to celebrate about this neighborhood, and so, so much that we as a city should try to preserve, even if it considered by many to be ground zero for gentrification. Be respectful. Think about your actions. How will this affect others? If you live there, try broadening it to a macro level. How will this affect my community, one that is already going through an incredible amount of change, and the heartbreak that comes with that? What can I do to make things better? Always say thank you, and respect those that came before you. These seem obvious, but it’s easy to forget with everything going on. At the end of the day, I like to hang out in the Mission, and I bet you, the reader, probably do too. So let’s just try and not be complete asshats about what we choose to do in a community that is experiencing an immense shift, both culturally and economically. Let’s just try and be a little better next time we’re there.

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espectres · 2 months

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I'm at chapter 171 btw

#almost thereeeee #i have accepted the fact that i cant run my internet soace normally while reading a manga #it just consumes me whole until i finish #peach reads opm /

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teenagebouquetphilosopher-blog · 7 years

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