#please don’t go around telling important adults in kids’ lives every bad thing they’ve ever done ignoring every good thing so that said

[ashbrea381writings]

Flying Blind: Chapter 2, Meeting the Bats

“Bunnyx? Should I be concerned?” Ladybug asked, turning to look at the person behind her. Bunnyx was obviously a good five or so years older than the rest of the team, and Batman would have shrugged it off if it weren’t for the next words from Bunnyx’s mouth.

“Nah, I wanted to be at this meeting since current me wasn’t.” Bunnyx pulled up a chair and flipped it backwards to sit on it that way. “To explain, Batman, I can’t tell them too much or the timeline would become unstable, and that really isn’t good. I help where I can and where they are going astray from the correct timeline.”

“Who is to say the correct timeline?” Robin asked. “Couldn’t you nudge it into a more favorable outcome?”

“Not without disappearing. Back to the Future style.” Bunnyx commented bitterly. “Been there, almost disappeared, it sucked. But I can tell you this, LB, it’s okay to trust them with the info you’ve got so far. They’re very helpful.”

“Thanks Bunnyx. Sticking around?” Ladybug asked, handing them a plate with some pastries.

“For the best pastries in Paris for free? Yes, for sure.” Bunnyx started laughing as they took the plate and took a few steps back. “I’m probably gonna let you all strategize without me though, I just wanted to hear the convo I missed the first time ‘round.”

“Oh please, you know they would feed every one of you guys for free if you asked. Unless you’ve had a falling out in the future I don’t currently know about?” Ladybug teased, loosening up more than she had so far.

“Nah, but at the point I’m at, I’m trying not to drain them, you have no idea how much time travel makes you hungry.” Bunnyx chuckled. “Besides, with the rest of these guys stopping by constantly, I’m surprised they even manage to make any money.”

Ladybug shook her head but didn’t comment, turning back to Batman and sighing. “We also have a friend who cannot always help out in battle for civilian reasons. That is Tempest, who has the ability to transform into three different forms; lightning, air, and water.”

“And you’re all about the same age?” Batman asked, his frown deepening.

“More or less, within about a year and a half from oldest to youngest.” Chat confirmed as Ladybug nodded. “We try not to advertise our real ages for both identity reasons, and to try and control just how many people don’t want us doing this due to our ages.”

“And you have no mentor? No Adult to pull you out if things get rough?” Batman’s voice was incredulous, and he sat up even straighter in his seat.

“Unless you count Bunnyx who jumps back from the future now and then to check in.” Chat joked, poking said hero in the ribs.

“Watch it, Kitty-Cat, I can and will send my younger self something embarrassing about you.” Bunnyx slapped his hand away, but sounded bored.

“Who gave you your powers then? You said before that you got your abilities from items?” Robin asked, leaning forward and bracing his arms on the table.

“Like I said, he gave up his memories to protect more of the artifacts.” Ladybug sighed, “The items in question are individually called the Miraculous. There is a box that I have custody of that usually holds them. I won’t say how many there are. Right now I’m letting each person here use one, Chat and I were picked by the former Guardian. When Hawkmoth found out the identity of the former Guardian, he attempted to find out our identities too and wanted to steal the box for himself.” Ladybug stood and began to pace slightly in the little room there was. “During the battle, Chat and I were able to retrieve the contents, and the former Guardian transferred his title to me. The magic of the Miraculous wiped his memories to keep the secrets of the Miraculous from ever being taken from him.”

“So not only are you a superhero as a teenager, but you guard a set of ancient artifacts that each hold incredible power?!” Batman stood abruptly. “If there is some sort of title involved, who gave that title to your mentor?”

“People who are a combination of long gone or not welcome here due to antiquated ways.” Ladybug snapped harshly. “Do not presume to know what is going on with us. Age does not mean wisdom, just that you assume you know what is best for other people.”

Batman took a step back and sighed. “I am angry on your behalf that you were put under this amount of pressure.” He took a moment to calm himself and shook his head. “Am I correct to assume that Hawkmoth is of a similar age to me?”

Ladybug studied Batman for a few moments, sharing glances with a few of the other teammates who all made some sort of gesture or facial expression that they understood among themselves. “Roughly, yes, we cannot be precise but I would judge you and him to be within 3 or so years of each other.”

“What other information do you have? We might be able to help figure him out.”

“It will be difficult, the magic of the Miraculous makes it difficult to pinpoint an identity, and tends to make you want to drop the search. Although, there are some exceptions. Rena figured Carapace out after meeting him in the mask twice.” Ladybug pointed out. At that comment, Rena chuckled and elbowed a blushing Carapace.

“Not fair, LB, you know why it was that easy for her to figure me out.” Carapace muttered, pulling his hood lower over his face.

“My point is, maybe someone with an outside perspective would be able to push past it.” Ladybug shook her head at her friends. “Here, this has everything we’ve observed about Hawkmoth, and information that will help you to identify him more easily. Some of that information covers Miraculous holders in general from our own observations about ourselves. Don’t look into our identities with this, just Hawkmoth.”

“What kind of information?” Batman asked, taking the flash drive.

“How much of a height difference we have when we transform, how much things like hair and eye color change, Chat is an exception for the eyes part.” Chat gave a bow as Ladybug said his name. “It also has Hawkmoth’s approximate measurements from what I’ve been able to figure out the few times we’ve seen him in person. He’s a very tall, slender man.”

Batman handed the flash drive to Robin, who plugged it into a screen on his glove, asking quietly, “Hmmm, how accurate are these measurements and how did you get them?”

“I’m good at sizing people, there’s a civilian reason for it that I won’t name. I could probably give you yours if you wanted.” Ladybug chuckled.

“She’s nearly dead-on, actually, I’ve seen it in action.” Chat added, smirking. “Like that time she figured out who was who at a costume party.”

“That was one time and it was a bet, King Monkey should have known better than to challenge me, he’s known me for years.” Ladybug sniffed. “Besides, it was a good team-building exercise for me to identify you guys in the crowd while you switched costumes.”

“Team building exercise?” Batman seemed unconvinced.

“We’d only just decided that we all needed to know who each other were. So we went to a big costume party with several quick change outfits and tried to identify each other so we’d always know who was who even if we switched Miraculi.” Ladybug explained.

“You all know each other as civilians?” Robin asked, looking shocked.

“After what happened with the former Guardian, I was rather… Stressed and didn’t have a way to tell anyone why it was so bad, so I confided in Rena, and she basically told me that it was time we all knew each other. She’d known Carapace from the start and he found out about her shortly after, so it was something that just made sense. We coordinate better now and know what’s going on in each other’s lives and can adjust for it.” Ladybug shrugged. “We know if one of us is sick, or busy, or can’t get away from civilian life long enough to handle Akuma’s now. We’re more coordinated in our plans and can cover for each other both as heroes and civilians.”

“Do your families know you’re all doing this?” Batman asked quietly, seeming to think about the situation.

“One of us has parents that know, I won’t say who.” Ladybug crossed her arms and stared the Bat down.

“And what do they think?”

Chat chucked, “They’ve basically adopted everyone who wasn’t their kid already and told everyone to stop by anytime. They also keep an eye on the news and give excuses for the one that’s their kid to make sure they get to be at Akuma fights when they’re needed for it.”

“They also offered to patch us up if there’s ever an injury that the Cure doesn’t fix. We haven’t run into that problem yet though.” Honey Bee added, making a gesture like she would start touching up her manicure before being stopped short by her gloves. “By the way, Bug, you need to teach us how to adjust our suits manually, you said there was a way.”

“That’s an entire Saturday on it’s own, Bee, save it for the next girl’s day.” Ladybug waved her off casually.  “Now, I’m sure you guys have what you need to start the investigation with you?”

“Yes, we’ll keep you posted.” Batman held out a comm unit to Ladybug. “The batteries last three days, if it takes longer than that I can meet you here to switch out. It’s also undetectable while you’re wearing it and muting it and turning it on and off is intuitive.”

“MmmmHmmm, I’m willing to bet it’s also a tracker. Pegasus, take a look?” She passed the device to said hero and he plugged it into a small tablet he pulled out of a pocket.

“There is the ability for it to track movements, but that was disabled before I even touched it.” Pegasus handed it and Ladybug tucked it into her ear, testing the settings a bit before leaving it muted but on.

“I know how important secret identities are, the tracker is only in there because it’s the same type as what Robin uses and I’d rather not have him injured somewhere and not be able to get ahold of him.”

“I still don’t like the tracker either, B.” Robin muttered, causing the Miraculous holders to chuckle.

“We can track each other when we’re suited up.” Ladybug swept a hand around the group. “It’s useful to know when each other is on the way or where someone is when you need to meet up.”

“Anyway, we all have places to be, so we’ll check in once and a while through LB to see how it’s going.” Chat said, cleaning off the table and tucking the dishes back into the baskets they came from. “Bee, here’s yours, I think you’ll be missed sooner.” He passed one off the Honeybee who promptly zipped away on her top, waving as she passed over the building. “LB, delicious as always, I need to convince them to teach me their ways.” He sighed, handing Ladybug a basket.

“Don’t be shy, if you ask I’m sure they’d show you. They don’t have anyone willing to take over when they retire, and it might be good for you to have a job like a normal person.” She laughed, taking the larger basket and setting it on the ground before wiping down the table with a cloth she’d pulled out.

“Don’t think I won’t… Next time I’m home alone for the weekend, I’m there.” He laughed and collapsed the table after she wiped it. One by one, the other Miraculous holders put away the chairs and helped Chat wrangle the table into it’s storage shed.

“How often do you guys do this?” Robin asked, watching as the other heroes took off in separate directions.

“As often as we have the time and can get away from our civilian lives. Since we all know each other, it isn’t as hard as it was.” Ladybug shrugged, ruffling Chat’s hair.

“We keep it to a reasonable amount of time and not everyone is always able to make it, but it’s always a nice way to get in some bonding time with the team.” Chat added, pushing Ladybug’s hand off of him. “We’re basically family to each other at this point, so we don’t see a reason why we shouldn’t spend time together. I gotta run, it’s almost time for my next thing.” He sighed and launched himself up with his stick, waving at them and running across the rooftops.

“We’ll be in contact, and I’ll be listening on the comm.” Ladybug pointed to her ear where the device was invisible to any who didn’t know it was there.

With that, the rest of the remaining heroes left, leaving Batman and Robin in a closed-off alley with a beautiful garden and a small shed. “Want me to check what else is in the shed?” Robin asked after making sure his comm was muted.

“No, there was nowhere to hide anything, it’s only big enough for the stuff that’s in there and they left it open the whole time we were talking.” Batman sighed and looked at the sky that was going pink with dusk. “Let’s get to the hotel.”

#mgi trope tussle #maribat #dickinette #dc #miraculous fanworks #soulmate

[arent-you-scared-lil-human]

Bølger (2)

Merman!Kae x Reader.

Words: 3,183

bølger means waves.

Chapter 1.

Merfolk were almost divine to your eyes, living near the coast gave you the blessing of discovering these amazing creatures, well, or the thought of actually seeing them. 

You were 7 when your mother gave your guard to your aunt Betty, your mom grew sick and she wanted to be sure you would be cared for when she passed. But it took her cancer to reach stage 4 to allow you to live with Betty. 

The thing was, your mother hated the coast, the town, and the ocean.

When Betty went to visit you, she would take small cards with fairies, merfolk, werewolves painted on it. She would tell you to believe in magic and accept that we aren't alone on the big blue planet.

Which made your mother mad because she hated the mere idea of mermaids, so much that the little mermaid movie was never allowed. But she had to swallow her revulsion to be sure you would be cared for and not thrown on the orphanage in the end.

So you went to live on Walrey Coast with your aunt. She was a good woman, a bit light-headed but good nonetheless. She taught you how to cook, even though you hated it, taught you how to work in her small restaurant and how to read and love Julio Verne's work. 

The house was small but notably comfy and colorful, each room had a color and somehow it didn't get overwhelming. Your bedroom had fairies painted on the walls, and a lamp with a mermaid painted in gold.

But you never saw a mermaid or a merman in your life.

And since your city was a small place each person ended up knowing another.  You were homeschooled till your 11, but Antony -your aunt friend- told that his nephews were your age and that his sister could teach you too.

Antony's nephews were three, a girl called Hope, and two boys, Archie and Hunter. Hope and Archie were twins, and Hunter was a year younger but their mom taught them the things at the same time so they could always be together if they ever went to a "normal" school.

So, with your 20's and seeing Archie leaving the town to persuade his dream university made you happy, but sad in seeing Carla's tears, after all, she always wanted her kids together.

"C'mon, Y/N, I consider you like a daughter so let us re-form your brother's bedroom..." Carla tried to smile through her tears, Hunter hugged you and Hope rolled her eyes at her brother's trial of reaching your interest, the poor boy has been crushing over you for 6 years already.

You kept your routine of woking at your aunty Betty restaurant, Antony tried to coax you to leave town and go to uni -as every elderly person tries to tell us to-; But something held you in Walrey Coast, maybe it was the trauma of the last time that you left your home was due to a loved one passing, or maybe Betty being abandoned in her big picturesque house... or who knows, perhaps something else, something unseen, or forgotten.

Hope didn't want to go to university, she craved to open an auto-shop, Carla said she didn't mind, but everyone knew deep down she wanted her small girl to be the perfect wife-to-be. And Hunter wanted to become a biologist, the boy adored the sea more than the air he inhaled and after years and years of Antony pulling his ear telling him that the idea of being a professional surfer was as idiotic as his hair, he swallowed down and picked another profession that connected the sea, too.

You loved them, and the town, but you were lonely. You had your first kiss, and even that you studied in "not a homeschool but it was basically one" you knew the other people in town, the men in their 20's that lived near and also the visitors that came and go. And working in the restaurant you saw lots of people, soldiers, biologists, families, even sailors, travelers, wanderers, et cetera. 

So you had your 'first times' but nothing serious, and even that Hunter tried several times to date you, you couldn't see him farther than a brother. He was attractive, smart, polite, liked animals as you do but he was... a brother. Through and through.

So your life was based around this minimalist and simple presence. Waking up, helping Betty at home, go to the restaurant, visit Carla and your dear friends, go back to the restaurant, sit in the pier where Antony lived while you ate your dinner looking at the sea, go home, shower and sleep.

Antony tried to make you go swimming or try to surf with Hunter, but you were terrified of the ocean, you loved it, it was fascinating and very very beautiful, but scary.

Dangerous.

Yet, gazing at it brought you a level of peace that couldn't be accomplished in any other form.

So finishing your meal and making sure to set any trash inside a bag so you could throw in the trashcan later, you stood up and gave one last look at the dark waters and went home.

Deep in the waves, stood Kae, gazing at you leaving your favorite spot in the docks, each day you went there and in each one he approached the surface to make you company, a silent one.

Sometimes you hummed a song, one that of course he had not heard before. And sometimes you would put music to play in a small black device he saw humans carrying around all the time, the music was a mixture, but he enjoyed them, and loved when you sang along.

Merfolk took singing into high consideration, it was important to lull food, to find a good partner, to... well, everything!

And he hummed back with you, but he knew you didn't hear him. You didn't remember him.

It was funny how different worlds that co-existed, should know about another, should collide.

Humans are evil, everyone says. But what Eros did with you wasn't it? Hurting an innocent cub, or better saying: a child, and bringing your unconscious body as a trophy was the most repugnant thing he ever witnessed. After that episode years prior, Kae never glanced at his cousin in the same way, Eros was still family, but he wasn't the good merman Kae thought he was.

And with their adult forms and getting the spot of protectors of the ocean society, the mating season was approaching. 

Jaxi was in love with a mermaid that was from oceans away, they found each other in a hunt for food and after that, they've been planning their wedding ever since. Melin grew to be an insatiable lover, the mating season was an open feast to him, especially since it didn't involve a mandatory loyalty. Eros had the most beautiful sea creatures he could find, he was handsome and strong, but he was a player, which wasn't so shocking.

And Kae had some encounters, had his first sex in his 16's but he didn't like the notion of marrying and being away from the bare soil, away from his little friend that didn't even remember his existence.

He wonders if you still have Eros's nails wounds scarred in your skin, or maybe you healed after he rolled the algae around it? The alkaline water helped sea beings to heal and regenerate their skin, maybe oxygen did it too to humans? And if it hasn't healed, have you ever questioned the origin of it?

Kae didn't see himself as a stalker, he was more of a curious merman. And after leaving you in the waves near the sand, he has been reaching the surface searching for you. Ecthelion realized his peculiar interest in you, so he at least told Kae that his human friend, Antony, has told him that you were alive and well. And that the human's healers said you declared that you floated too deep in the ocean and the waves took you away.

Only that.

And as much that was a relief to hear you didn't remember the evilness Eros committed, Kae was still disappointed that you wouldn't remember him, or Jaxi and Melin that were also very much curious about human's anatomy and helped to save your life.

He wanted to talk to you, to see how different you are, would it be shocking for you to see him? Would you run away seeing his different form? He was very pretty, and one of the most desired young merman between the merfolk, but their physiology are different for various reasons. Maybe you wouldn't think he is pretty, his monster form would push you away. Scare you.

               ...

Hunter lost his mind, inviting you to go surfing? Insane.

"You know I'm afraid of the sea,  Hunter!" You told him and your friend only shrugged.

"Y/N, i know but we can try. There won't be big tides today, and I'm an expert at it."

His sad voice made you feel bad, you loved him dearly but couldn't answer his romantic feelings. "Is just... we are not kids anymore and with our brother away and Hope getting you away for 'girls night i barely have time with you. And i don't want to be an asshole, i swear, but that accident that happened years ago was an accident. You were a kid and now you're all grown."

Yu chuckled and hit his shoulder slightly. "All of this only to convince me to go with you?"

He narrowed his eyes and gave you a shy smile. '"Only if you say it worked."

"It did. But! If the waves get too big or anything we will come back, alright? Don't try to prove a point."

"And which point would that be?" He seemed offended.

"That you know how to suffer."

"Right, I won't do anything stupid."

                       ...

Carrying Hope's board firmly you questioned if the straight material could hurt your palms. "Come on." Hope yelled cheering you up, she agreed with Hunter that it would be good for you to test the waters. Being afraid of it was a dangerous thing.

Hunter extended his hand while his other one was carrying the board under his arm. "Trust me?"

"Yeah, but please if I want to come back help me."

"Don't worry."

You held his hand and walked to the waters, Hope clapped her hands a couple of times yelling "you got it" to give you motivation.

It was a pretty day, the sun was out but it wasn't awfully warm Some seagulls flew through the skies and you admired the blue water touching your skin.

The water wasn't cold, and so far no big waves came and snatched your nor Hunter's life.

"Now in the way we tried back there." Hunter held the surfboard you were firmly grasping and helped you to jump on it. He did the same on his and held your hand looking at you with nothing but honesty.

You laid your chest on the board and moved your arms in the water to push you a bit far from the sand. Hunter was smiling, he adored the ocean and adored you so he was very happy.

A small wave came and you looked at him. "Hunt!"

He didn't tell you to go, he gave you a tiny nod and told you the two of you could swim around until you felt more relaxed.

After some minutes you tried to surf in a tide, it was small, amen for that, and Hunter seemed proud. He went to the bigger ones and even when he fell in the salty water he would emerge smiling and laughing.

Hope entered the water too and swam around, you never swam with your friends before.

Some minutes passed and you lost your fear from the ocean, the salty water, the rays of sun, Hunter's smile and Hope's laugh was a blessing and you wondered why you never gave Hunter a chance when he asked you to surf with him since you two were 12.

A medium-wave came in, and you told them you would try. Hunter has surfed and tides four times bigger so he was secure you wouldn't get hurt.

You moved your arms in the water to push you near the growing wave, you managed to feel it moving the surfboard, and you got on your feet and yelled in euphoria when your body kept firm above it. It was amazing, a sensation of pure joy.

The adrenaline, the beauty on it.

Hope and Hunter were cheering you up, and you smiled at then before noting a big movement near the tide, head got out of the ocean and the creature knocked your breath out of your lungs.

Was it... a mermaid? Well, better saying a merman?

"What?" You lost balance and fell into the water, the string holding the surfboard to your ankle made a pressuring pull and you whimpered at the pressure. You shut your eyes as the salty water burned your eyes but soon your foot was realized from the surfboard-pull.

You opened your eyes terrified that you lost the board because you were being dragged further in, but you saw something, someone. 

The strong features, the gills on his neck, the floating long hair... the tail. 

"Y/N!" Hope yelled. "Where are-", "Y/N!" Hunter yelled too.

He swam to you and leaned in, you got terrified, the water was burning your eyes, the lack of oxygen making you anxious and this creature was placing his hands on your cheeks. The cold hands made you stare at him but he only leaned in to kiss your forehead and then your nose. 

Hope's and Hunter's yells going deaf to your ears. You could only stare at the merman.

Before you could do anything else he smiled and touched your feet pushing you up to find oxygen.

You broke out of the surface and coughed as Hunter pulled your body to his chest. "Jesus Christ! You scared me." He said and kissed your forehead over and over making sure you were alive under his touch.

Hunter's kisses were gentle, urgent, and you enjoyed them, but it wasnt like the creature's touch. 

The monster's touch that could certainly snap your neck in a fraction of seconds, but the same touch that made your heart beat faster a moment prior.

And when he held your feet... you thought he would pull you in, to kill and eat you.

No.

He launched you up, assisting you, freeing you!

"I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have brought you." Hunter cried and you leaned in his touch, holding his neck and looking over his shoulder seeing familiar eyes gazing at you miles away in the water.

                       ...

Sitting in Hope's bed and having her blow-drying your hair, you told Hunter for the 45° time that you were okay and wasn't his fault. He gave you a cup of hot chocolate and checked your fingertips again searching for any hint of extremity cyanosis. He was terrified of losing you, shit, he even argued with Hope when he told her he wanted to help you to take a shower. And even if crushing on you, his intentions weren't sexual, he only wanted to be sure you were warmed up.

"It's okay, it was my fault. I thought I saw something. I got distracted."

Hope brushed your dry hair and you held Hunter's big sweater closer to your chest, he was taller than you so his clothes were the most comfortable. "Hope, i'm sorry for-"

"No no, it's okay. The thing was old anyway." She hugged you from behind and assured you it was okay the loss of her surfboard. "But i wonder how the safe-string got out of your ankle."

You remembered the pressure the string was making, remember the relief it was when it was snapped away from you... the merman did it.

"I don't know either." You lied and tried to get up, only to have them push you back in Hope's bed and ordering you to rest.

Hunter called your aunt to tell her it was all okay and that you would have a sleepover.

You fell asleep, dreaming of waves and gentle touches.

                         ...

Waking up you looked at the covers and searched for a clock to see how long you've slept. It was 2 AM and Hope was passed out, you gently got up from the bed and grasped a pair of Hope's boots.

You got off the stairs and unlocked the door discreetly before closing it behind you.

You walked to the docks and sat in your dining-spot. The vision of the water moving slowly under the stars always eased your thoughts. 

Yes, you consumed a bit of seawater but you didn't imagine what you saw. "Hey, uh, thank you for saving me." You spoke, feeling stupid and looking over your shoulders to be sure no one was near to listen to your nonsense.

"I... nearly drowned and if it wasn't you... I... Fuck!" You swore under your breath. The quietness of Walrey Coast at the dark night was comforting, silence was everything, it meant peace.

Holding your legs together and leaning your head on your knee, tears formed in your eyes. You missed Archie, you felt bad for making Hunter so worried, for destroying Hope's surfboard, the silence that engulfed you, and the thought of going crazy.

As tears drop reached the water, Kae got the courage to break out of the surface. He cursed himself so much earlier on, he should have reached you, if you haven't seen him you wouldn’t fall. So saving you was nothing less than his obligation. 

And touching you... well, that's another story. He couldn't help himself, you were so soft, so grown and stunning. Watching you from afar was something, but perceiving you centimeters away was enchanting.

With your eyes closed, you moaned a song that you loved, and even that the music spoke about heartbreak and a lost lover... it was beautiful.

Stopping to hum while you cleaned your nose, you opened your eyes startled when the song kept resounding,

Widening your eyes you looked at the water and placed your hands on your mouth to avoid a scream to leave your mouth.

There he was, the same thing that saved you.

"Hm, hi-hi!" You gagged.

Kae looked down at his torso, he hated how the human guy held you in his arms early on. His chest was free of hard skin, freed of scales, his skin color was near yours... it wasn't pale as his.

"Maybe you don't speak my language, I, uh actually I'm sort of believing i'm dreaming. My name is Y/N."

The smile on your features was all he could see, the previous shriek apparently wasn't from his ugly self. But surprise, or so he hoped.

"I know," His stark tone of voice made you gasp, he spoke! He could speak, and your language! "Hi, little human."

                       🧜🏻‍♂️

#male monster x female reader #monster x reader #kae #merman x reader

[kbandtrash]

SKZ Mafia Bullet Point

~Megan~

@call-me-horangi thanks for the request! (If we end up doing more we'll stop tagging you if you want haha)

Masterlist

Word Count: 1.4k

My man Changbin

He has always been the good kid

A+++ student

Adults love him

The thing is he is part of a mafia

A very very good one

Famous for being behind taking out many many important people

And many many people who know anything

Alright anyway

He wears his uniform correctly every day

Manages to be class president, get perfect scores, and train for his future in the mafia

All at once

Without blowing his cover

But here’s the thing

You are like the loudest girl in school and you aren’t afraid to say Changbin is a fake

You’ve seen him around, holding wads of money in alleys, sometimes seen him fight people

No one believes you

But you’ve seen it happen with your own eyes

After a while, you go quiet about it

But you don’t stop studying him

Now after about a month trying to see him doing bad stuff again, you realize you’ve fallen in love

You stare at him so much at school that you can’t help but notice how handsome he is

How very beautiful he is

His smile is just stunning

And his grades? Those are attractive for sure

You yourself struggle to be a good student

You start to doubt yourself

“Was it really him doing that crap?”

“Am I seeing things?”

But the night you decide to give up on going against him and start going for him…

You see him again

You run into him outside a convenience store

He seems to be in a hurry

And he wants to steal your bike

“I knew it! You ARE a fake!”

“No I’m not! I just need to borrow your bike, please”

You are very protective of your bike

“No, just tell me why you act like this outside of school”

Then come the guys holding guns

Wearing black

Hats, masks, gloves, hoods, boots

They just give off the aura of really really dangerous guys

“The heck were you thinking, getting into fights with these kinds of people??”

“I needed to get away from them, but now if you give me your bike they’ll be after you for helping me”

“Oh my word, is this a mafia group or something?”

“Well”

Yeah his face gives it away

He’s in real crap and he just got you into it

Mindlessly he takes your hand and pulls you away

Now you both are sprinting hand in hand

You should be thinking about your precious bike back there

But his hAND

And then you notice he also has a gun

So now: but his gUN

You can’t tell if your heart is beating more from being around this super cute boy or running away from crazy gun people or running away with a super cute boy with a gun

Anyway the point is, you get away safe and sound, he ends up having to walk you home because honestly you asked him to

For the next week or so, you’re kinda wary of him

You try your hardest not to talk to him

But you are crushing on him.

And then to make matters worse he shows up at your doorstep with your bike

With the sweetest smile

And then he says “you failed the test yesterday, I’ll help you study”

That’s where your so-so relationship ended and became a friendly but curious-about-secrets relationship

As in you wanted to know more about his deal with mafias

And he wanted to know why you were so dang loud about things — he had to shut you up about his secrets or he’d be dead immediately

Then one day right after he left after tutoring, you got a text

Unknown: Found you.

Confused, you answer with wrong number bruh

But then there’s a knock on your front door

And it’s those guys wearing black

With the big guns

Your phone is in your hand, and they immediately snatch it

They’ve taken you hostage

In your own home

You assume they’re trying to get to Changbin through you

They tell you to text him to come over

But you refuse

You are too good for that

And they slice your neck, right next to the collarbone

“You call the police, we kill you. You tell anyone besides Changbin, we kill you and them.”

Okay that’s enough of being brave

You never were the type to let people kill you

And… you trust Changbin

You believe he will save you

But will he be okay?

It’s too late to think about that. You’ve already texted him

You: Hey Changbin come back I wanna see your guns

Changbin sees the message and immediately feels like something is wrong

You always seem really scared of the weapons

And you have never once asked him to come over. You always just let him

He rushes over there, making sure to bring his guns just in case

He gets there… he knocks…

No one answers

He doesn’t hesitate to open it, because of course it’s unlocked

He searches the living room first. Because that’s the first thing there

And he sees the blood on the couch

He sees a knife, laying there

And he sees you, bleeding from two cuts on your neck, passed out behind the couch

He’s horrified, of course! But he has to stay freaking the heck calm

He doesn’t have anything for you

But he takes off his shirt and holds it to your neck to at least stop the blood?

He sends a quick text to his family group chat

And then he hears a click

He turns around -- he knew it was too quiet for someone not to be here

Cue the dramatic suspense music

Except he’s quick and has his gun pointed directly at a guy who had just locked the door

He shoots.

You wake up.

Now there are three more guys running down the stairwell from the second story

You can’t move

And you’re dizzy and in too much pain to think

So when you see a guy on the ground, bleeding, you think it’s Changbin

“Changbin!”

You’re crying

Then you see the smol one

The short guy in the middle of the room is surrounded by the bad guys

He is also not wearing a shirt and apparently he’s ripped

Anyway

The guy on the floor is a bad guy

You’re relieved but Changbin is distracted by you now

“Y/N! It will be okay! I’ve got backup coming”

A guy punches Changbin from behind

Another throws a knife at him, hitting him in the shoulder

Changbin isn’t having it and in less than five minutes all the other guys are down

But he’s hurt

The knife wasn’t deep in his shoulder but it fell out so he’s bleeding everywhere

“Y/N, don’t worry”

Backup has arrived

Long story short, they have private doctors so you and Changbin are taken care of

But the rest of them take care of the half-conscious bodies of the bad guys

You shiver at the thought of whatever they do with them

Changbin, now with a bandaged shoulder, clearly tries his best to ignore the pain and comes to check your now taken care of wounds

“Go away, you aren’t wearing a shirt”

“I gave it to you buddy, be thankful. Besides I’m hot, please appreciate me”

You find his shirt and throw it at him

After that day, you and him have become closer than ever, at and outside of school

People are wondering why your neck is bandaged

And why his face is absolutely destroyed

You’re getting a little overwhelmed as you start to realize knowing him is slowly breaking you down (bullies, murderers, etc)

But Changbin refuses to let you ignore him or push him away

He…

He fell for you, too

So one day, he confesses to you after school in the classroom after everyone has left

No one is there to make you doubt things

He can see you’re a little scared

“I know you’ve been trying to expose me… but I think you can get over that because you like me. And also I like you. And I think we should date. And I think you should join the mafia.”

And that’s how you almost died, got a boyfriend, and started learning self defense because you refused to do anything else in the mafia stuff

And I mean sure if your family knew about this they would kill you but you didn’t think about that.

~the end~

#stray kids #skz #stray kids changbin #changbin #changbin stray kids #skz changbin #changbin skz #seo changbin #stray kids mafia au #megan

[emmyrosee]

give us a random headcanon go 👀

UHM OK

So

This got long and kind of angsty I’m SORRY-

Axel and Mark are brothers. Axel’s older than mark by a fairly big margin so he offers that good ol’ elder brother wisdom™️ and Mark isn’t always here for it.

Axel’s had to drag mark out of parties more times than he can count, some because he was worried about his lil bro, some because he wasn’t answering moms texts and axel wasn’t about to let him make their momma feel bad.

Like this one time, their mom was punishing Mark for being completely shitfaced and missing something for their grampa, and Mark straight up snuck out of his room, no note, no regards, nothing, and with his mom fearing the absolute worst, that she’d lost her son, her baby, Axel quickly tracked down his brother and hauled his drunk ass right back home, speeding so fast mark was puking in the truck, yelling at him so bad mark pouted, and by the time they got home his brother was just a needy, scolded mess, and their mom was all over him, taking care of him and letting him puke and whine about his tummyache, and if she needed Axel to get anything, he did, not questions asked.

When mark was going through his first serious breakup, Axel really stepped forwards to work him back to normal, doing things with him other than just drinking the problems away like his friends wanted to. They went to cheap bowling alleys and drank cheap beer, they would drive around at 2 am, blasting music as they passed a joint, and it was probably the first real time- like honest, true, raw- that Mark learned it was okay to be a man and cry. He was hitting Axel, screaming and telling him she was every terrible name under the sun and that Axel had no idea what the fuck Mark went through to try to keep her happy.

When Axel pulled over, he shoved Mark back a little, just enough to straighten him back, telling him to stop being a pussy and just embrace it. She was gone. She was no good for him, and she was gone. She broke his heart, it was okay to be sad, and Mark wore his vocal chords raw with his sobs and shrieks of despair. “Why doesn’t she fucking want me, Axe? What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing, dude,” he promises over his brothers tears. “You’re at a stupid age where love doesnt mean shit to nobody. Fuck, I am too. But right now, you’re sad because you’re alone, and one day you’re going to find someone, and they’re going to make you fear a lot of things more important than just ‘being alone.’ Trust me dude. You’re too fucking young to get that.”

They don’t talk about that night often. Axel’s jacket collar had been permanently ruined from Mark’s tears and hot breath against the leather, but from then on, instead of just getting drunk off his rocker when he was sad, he’d just find Axel and cry it out.

Their dad passed away when Mark was young, and their mom never really recovered from it. Because of this, Axel really took the role of being momma’s fix-it man, getting an under-the-table job when he was young and making sure Mark had snacks and lunches while their mom took care of the house. When momma Cluney eventually remarried, she never ceased to thank Axel for all he did, and it always put Mark in a weird feeling. Not that he wasn’t grateful beyond words, he just always felt bad that Axel had to go through that at such a young age.

“You were in Kindergarten,” Axel says cooly, passing his brother a beer. “What were you going to do, sell dunk-a-roos for cold, hard cash?”

“I could’ve done more,” he mumbles, taking a long sip of his drink. “Like... I could’ve been more grateful for the toys and the lunch money.”

Axel chuckles and reaches over to ruffle Mark’s hair, “hey; you were fed. You didn’t give mom too much shit. And on your birthday, you got the Power-Ranger toys you wanted. You were grateful. You just didn’t get why you had to wait until your birthday.”

Mark snorts and shoves Axel’s hand away, sighing softly, “I wish I knew him, dude..”

“You look just like him.”

“What was he like?”

Axel hums and leans back in his seat, fingers swirling the lip of his beer bottle, “I remember when I was nine, I told him I was going to run away. Go live in the treehouse of our old house.” He paused to smirk, “bastard made me a lunch box with two peanut butter sandwiches, a bag of barbecue chips and a juice box and said ‘good for you! You’re a man now, do what you gotta do!’ I never made it off of the porch.”

Mark snickers and they get real quiet. “I miss him,” he admits. “I don’t remember him... but I miss him.”

Axel hums again, “he was moms great love. Never laid a hand on us, nor her. He was a good man.”

Mark raises his bottle to his brother, “you’re a good man too, dude.”

“Believe me, mark,” Axel chuckles sadly. “I’m only a quarter of the man he was.”

On a lighter note, Axel taught Mark to drive. He filled his truck with gas, drove them both out to the city limits, butt-fuck no where, with a bag of fast food and his gps.

“Okay,” Axel hums. “Get out.”

“Excuse me?”

Axel pulled the keys out of the ignition and tossed them to his brother, “you’re driving us back home. Oh, and to CVS, mom needs sugar and milk.”

And with those buggy green eyes, Mark just completely stares at Axel, freaked out and worried (mostly because Axel’s truck is his baby, and Axel was levelheaded enough at all times to hide a body if need be), so with a reassuring smile, axel slips out of the driver side, gesturing mark to slide over the bench-seat, and he slowly walked Mark through the process of starting the car and driving back home.

He hit a curb. And ran a stop-light. Nearly hit a squirrel, but never once did axel raise his voice to him. He would simply tell him it was alright and that “it doesn’t have to be perfect; I just want you to get us home.”

When they finally pull in a few hours later, Mark was so terrified Axel would tell their mom everything, but axel just shook his head. “If I wanted you to be perfect, I wouldn’t have just thrown you into traffic; I wanted to make sure you could drive if I wasn’t around and mom needed you. You got home. We’re alive. Tomorrow, if you’re feeling easy, we’ll go to a parking lot or something. But you did fine.” He smiles and leaves the truck, “but don’t puke in the truck; do it in the front yard, please.”

Which. Mark obeys.

Whenever Mark’s birthday rolls around, Axel drives them up to an old lake house their great-grandparents built, only bringing some clothes, booze and a gas can to get in and out of town, and they fish, make s’mores, and just be kids again. Again, Mark is much younger than Axel, so all the memories Axel has here, Mark doesn’t, so he wants him to enjoy the young years of his life that Axel really couldn’t.

Sometimes, if they’re bold, they’ll bring whoever they’re dating or smashing, but they’ve found it’s better to just have a guys weekend away, only them two in the middle of the woods, with only the fish in the lake to keep them company.

“So you had a treehouse and a fuckin’ cabin before I came along?” Mark asks by the fire, marshmallow clinging to his face childishly. Axel snorts, “dude I haven’t had a birthday party since I was seven, then you showed up.”

“Oh I’m sooo sorry,” Mark sings, rolling his eyes and plopping the last of his s’more in his mouth. Axel sighs dramatically, “don’t be. You made mom happy,” he pats his brother on the shoulder. “And she said I wasn’t allowed to try and return you anymore, so.”

Mark laughs before his brows furrowed, “anymore?”

Axel smirks. “Why do you think you’re so claustrophobic now, Markie?”

“The fuck did you do to me?”

“Shoved you in a box and left you outside.”

“You WHAT.”

“Three times.”

They bicker. They fight. But they’d fucking die for each other. As they got older, they really became best friends and Mark is open to that fact.

In fact, for Axel’s birthday, Mark got his hands on a pikachu doll from the 90’s that Axel was dying to have a kid but couldn’t get because he had to help his mom take care of mark, but every now and again he brought it up to joke.

Mark could tell that, even as an adult, he still wanted that pikachu toy because he wouldn’t shut up about it, so he finally saved up and got it ($150 mint-condition his asshole), and when Axel opened it on his birthday, there was not a dry eye from anyone except Mark.

Big, green eyes flip from the toy to Mark, jaw dropped in surprise and just completely at a loss for words. Mark grins, “now you can shut up about it; you own it. Live your Ash Katchum dreams, freak.”

Axel laughs around his cries, a tattooed hand coming up to stop himself. He wastes no time in stalking his way over to his brother, pulling him in for a tight hug while the younger just hugs him back, still smiling before shoving him off when people tried to get pictures.

“Cant have people who get our Christmas card think I like you or anything,” he snorts, making Axel laugh again before going back to his seat to finish his gifts, but everyone (including himself) knew that Mark won that year.

The first time Axel brings someone home, they’re a guy. Their mom was chillin, she had no problems with it (though she didn’t really expect Morgan to necessarily be a man), Mark was pretty confused. Like, sure Axel always had friends over, but they were never cuddly and touchy before, and it made Mark really curious.

He probably brings it up on one of their fishing trips years later, and axel barely has any clue what he’s talking about at first.

“You seriously don’t remember Morgan?” Mark asks in disbelief. “Like, how do I, but you don’t?”

“I’ve been with a lot of people,” Axel shrugs. Then, he tenses up and a slow grin spreads across his face, “oh. Morgan.”

“Yes! Morgan, the first person you ever brought home!”

“They’re not Morgan anymore,” Axel recalls. “Well, to me anyways. After we broke up, they became she, and her name is Bella. We’re still close, she’s just not Morgan anymore.”

“So... are you... like...?”

Axel smirks, “I’m nothing, dude. No skin off my ass for labels. If you learn anything from me, Markie boy,” he turns to his brother, “do what makes you happy. Love who the hell you want. Mom’s going to love you. I’m gonna love you. And fuck anyone who tells you you can’t.”

“I think I’m straight.”

Axel chuckles. “You’ve just never pursued anyone who hasn’t gone after you; just so happens only women have gone after you.”

Mark frowns and sinks lower in his seat, “do you think... not-straight-guys are afraid of me?”

“I think they’re afraid of your frat-boy-fuck-buddies who tease someone for having any sort of human emotions,” Axel says nonchalantly. “I’ve taught you enough about treating people with respect, your friends don’t have the same drive you do.”

Which brings me to my next point

Axel ABSOLUTELY taught Mark about the birds and the bees.

He drove them both around town not long after Mark turned 14, and he parked at their town’s high school and just... talked about sex. What happens, how does it feel, etc..

“You need to listen to her, Mark,” he says sternly. “The minute you hear a “no,” you fucking stop. The minute you hear a ‘I don’t want to,’ you stop. I don’t care if you’re balls deep inside of her, you slip out, tuck yourself away and apologize for making her uncomfortable.”

“But what if-“

“No.”

That’s the basics; like what happens when you have sex, what how to use protection, and the importance of consent. A while later, once Mark starts going to parties, he drives them out again, only this time to talk about when she says “yes.”

“You gotta work her up,” Axel hums, cigarette low on his lips. “Her body will let you know when she’s ready. If you go in dry, you’re going to hurt her.”

“How do I like... do that?”

Axel smirks, “play with her a little. Kiss her nice and slow... let your hands paw and squeeze, let her moan a little, let her purr... I’ve been with a few girls who like being tickled and picked up, some girls like it more rough and playful too, a smack on the ass, a few bites on their neck-“

“How will I know?” Mark squeaks. “If she like... likes what I’m doing.”

Once again, Axel grins, “believe me, Markie boy- you’ll know.”

Sjfhvdgbgh I WANT MORE, MY BOYS🥺🥺

#yes I own that pikachu doll shut up #and yes it was worth every penny #axel cluney #axel cluney angst #axel cluney fluff #axel cluney imagine #axel cluney deadpool two #axel cluney deadpool 2 #deadpool two #deadpool two angst #deadpool two fluff #deadpool two imagine #deadpool 2 #deadpool 2 fluff #deadpool 2 angst #deadpool 2 imagine #mark #mark assassination nation #mark fluff #mark angst #mark imagine #assassination nation fluff #assassination nation angst #assassination nation imagine #axel cluney x mark #bill skarsgard #bill skarsgard angst #bill skarsgard imagine #bill skarsgard fluff #bill skarsgård

[gerbithats]

A long sims 4 rant

Starting this I can already predict it’s gonna be a big one so if you stick with me, thank you and I’ll try and add pictures to make things feel easier 😆

I was thinking about it and I mean really thinking about these community surveys we’ve been getting and how they speak volumes on the way the game is handled but also also how we position ourselves as a community. I noticed alot more game changers are starting to get pretty vocal about their thoughts since the first community survey came out and that’s refreshing to say the least, but it shows a pattern that we all present: give us what is missing no matter how. We want beaches. We want cars. We want more stairs. We want bunkbeds. Etc.

So these things are probably somehow rushed into production to please the community and then, when we finally get it, it’s like we finally realize that what this game truly lacks is gameplay and not more items.

I invite you to come and think about the packs and the stuff we got throughout these 6 years with me.

🏢 Chapter 1: The apartment issue 

Yes we got apartment buildings with city living, but sometimes it doesn’t even feel like it’s a game feature because it’s L I T E R A L L Y related to living in a city, so it’s not a real feature. We have no possible way to play with apartments and condos outside of san myshuno because for the first time ever we can’t build or own apartments. This was such a missed opportunity of giving us new lot treatments like condos and even rentable properties. I mean, just think about how those 2 features could allow so much new gameplay and stories with it (I can literally imagine being a landlord, having to go fix renters stuff in my their places and doing social events as condo meetings).

The neighbors in that type of lot could also help solve somehow what so many people mention as “boring lot gameplay”. Let’s be real. hardly something ever happens with so little npcs and only the walk by sims (You have to literally run after them to make things happen sometimes and it shouldn’t be like that). But if sims were to live in the same condo or building as yours, sharing common living spaces that’s a whole other thing. Which brings me to the fact that even in the city, where apartments exist, there’s no common area other than the halls. Imagine if we could build laundries, rooftops, basements, patios with pools and all that sort of stuff.

That sort of detaling and really getting deep into the pack’s features is even show in elevators: we can’t use them ourselves (for building) and they’re not even animated, your sim is just teleported (even the modded ones have animations and that’s just awkward).

🌊 Chapter 2: Swimming in shallow waters

“We want a beach”, we said. So they gave us a beach, and a beach only. I’ve never seen so many people call a pack “shallow” as I’ve seen it happen to Island Living and tbh I do agree with them ‘cause... there’s really not much to do in this pack. For the first time ever swimming was restricted to this pack which is already a big let down by itself, but then features like deep diving were added for no reason and of course, as a rabbit whole, not actually contributing with much to do. So how could it be better?

My answer is pretty obvious: resorts. It is a livable world, but that don’t mean your sims can’t take a vacation from work and just stay there if that’s the gameplay you want to go with and resorts match perfectly with that, not to mention it would have great integration with packs like spa day. It also means a new lot type and lot system, that wouldn’t be much new if the city living building condos and sublocating them as I mentioned would’ve already been implemented, but now with the feature of renting it yourself too. Resorts could also have their own event schedules, integrated with the seasons calendar: cava parties every wednesday, yoga lessons on thursdays, etc. And the best thing would be: if you own one, you can make your own events and traditions. imagine just how fun that would be. A feature like this would also mean it’s already done for other packs coming later on, maybe a colder destination where you can ski and build iglus or even another cultural based pack like jungle adventure.

Other obvious resolution would be better mermaids. Make it harder to become one, being only able to get the kelp from a mermaid themselves. Make it less anticlimactic, having an animation of them turning before they just walk in water with a tail all of the sudden, maybe just some scales in their legs. Give them more unique features and powers like vampires and spellcasters have, such as easily persuading people (sort of like the mind control feature aliens have) and maybe even a secret lot, like a grotto where all the mermaids are. Give them curses with the points system to go with it, some mermaids are actually sirens amirite

🥶 Chapter 3: Seasons change, gameplay stays the same

Activities truly based on the season that are specific to that moment create urgency and different moments. Something I can think of is integrating a pack we already have: spooky stuff. It does feel lackluster ‘cause it’s missing opportunities, but imagine going trick or treating but actually going, loading different houses and gathering it while a meter like the active jobs one guided you. Forming groups with friends to do it or maybe for tpeing trees and bushes if you’re on the rebel teen side and destroying their porch jack’o lanterns. It could even be randomly generated, like the game would send you to 3 different houses to do it (that would bring lots of replayability value ‘cause you could end up in houses with neighbors that love you and will give you candy no problem, but maybe also neighbors with family feuds that won’t answer their door or make it harder for you to accomplish the event objectives), maybe one of those could even be a abandoned one that’s haunted or something like that.

The implementing of a better wants and fears system is very essential for this pack. Yes your sims get overheated and a popup message tells you they need some water or lighter clothes, but it’d be so good if they’d actually want to go to the beach, swim in the ocean, take a vacation from work and go to a resort. Heatwaves that would make your sim act weird, not strangerville level of weird, but maybe not obeying your commands.

Blizzards so strong that work and school would get canceled and you actually don’t have the option to leave your home lot anymore until it passes would not only add a different element to the gameplay, but also add value to the weather controler machine.

🥺 Final chapter: The general “more stuff to do” and “more things happening” factor

The game offers all these beautiful secret worlds and yet when you finally get to them there’s not much to do other than searching for rocks and frogs and doing some fishing. I miss going to a community lot hidden somewhere and finding an eremite, goddamn bigfoot, some crazy npc or even just an actual community lot with something to do and people doing stuff in it. Unique community lots would also be a way to make towns more lively and captivating like they did so well with realm of magic and the casters alley section of the world. Maybe forgotten hollow has this abandoned haunted house where people claim they’ve seen the grim reaper walking around. Maybe sixam has a alien station where they clone human sims. Maybe sulani has this beautiful sunken ship beach where a club of people that dress up as pirated meet. Maybe Del Sol Valley has a movie theater where you can watch premieres. Maybe Oasis Springs mine hides actual gold that you can collect and get rich outta nowhere. That kind of stuff.

I can’t stress this enough, but NPCs are so important to shake things up. It was so good to have a pack like realm of magic where the we would have to go to the three sages in order to progress. Having unique sims like this or npcs that change the way your story is going like burglars, firefighters, cops, social bunny, bonehilda and even a fortune teller is so important to keep things impredictable and interesting.

Age groups really need more specific restricted gameplay for better feel of progression. Many people say sims 4 is a young adult simulator and well... there’s not much to show that differs from that. Toddlers are as interesting as hamsters, locked in an object waiting for you to feed, clean and give them attention. Teens really should feel more like a transiction period, and the wants and fears system would really help out with that. I miss being able to participate in more elements that would mark a sims life even if they’re cheesy as heck, like having a prom, graduating, having a midlife crises.

In conclusion

First of all: if you got to this point thank you and I’d really wanna know what you think about all of this.

Some people may find even ridiculous for someone to go about a rant this big on a game and to that I have to say I agree lol I can’t help it tho, honestly, the sims has always been the game I’m most passionate about and it helped me express myself and my creativity so much since I was a kid. I really do care about this game and this franchise.

The point I want to make with this is: perhaps we shouldn’t ask for more and more different stuff, but actually put some effort into showing things we already like in the game and how they can be improved to make it more interesting. At the end of the day I still want spiral staircases, ladders, paintable ceiling, werewolves and all that but does it really matter if they get added to the game following the same patterns as the things pointed in here? Also we really are getting to a point where only a few things are missing as far as cas/build/buy go and I believe it’s time for us, as a community, to give gameplay as much importance as all these things we wanted so bad that got implemented. I probaby forgot to say something here and I didn’t even mention the infamous hamster pack, but anyway, I hope the point got across.

I try really hard to believe that the gurus are here for us and that most of all we, as a community, have a very strong voice, all we need to do is make it clearer and stronger about the things we really wish for this game.

#i'm never doing rants again #honestly this is my last one #from now one i'll only express my thoughts through memes and reblogs #ressurrection spell was a missed opportunity for zombies to be back in realm of magic btw #i don't even know how to tag this #the sims #the sims 4 #ts4 #sims 4

[dailydoseofbeautiful-image]

1) IT’S OKAY TO FAIL

I’m not sure how other 34 year olds feel when their 35th birthday is coming up. As for me, I felt like my failures grew more apparent. Celebrate what you HAVE accomplished and be grateful for another day.

2) CRAVE TO BE A BEGINNER AGAIN

I’ve been wanting to try something new for a good minute. Like point number one, it’s okay to fail at something! This goes hand in hand with being a beginner. I strongly believe in being a student of life. I always wanted to learn a new language.

3) LOVE YOUR PARENTS

We are often so busy growing up, we often forget they are also growing old! If you needed a reminder to call your parents, this is it. Do it now! My mom is my world. She was my worst enemy as a teenager but now my best friend as an adult <3

4) MOVE AT YOUR OWN PACE

Fuck what everyone is doing on Instagram. Fuck what your high school friends are doing. Fuck what your college friends are doing. Live your life at your own pace. If you had kids or want kids before marriage, fuck it. If you chose your career before a man, FUCK IT. You will move at the pace that is meant for YOU.

5) SO LIVE THE LIFE AND TAKE EVERY CHANCE TO BE AS HAPPY AS YOU CAN BE..

Being true to yourself takes guts. First, you’ve got to face everything around you and figure out what is important; what you think really counts ;). second, you’ve got to interact with a lot of people who may see things differently.

6) RELATIONSHIPS

No relationship is perfect, ever. There are always some ways you have to bend, to compromise, to give something up in order to gain something greater... The love we have for each other is bigger than these small differences. and that’s the key. it’s like a big pie chart, and the love in a relationship has to be the biggest piece. Love can make up for a lot.

7) SOULMATE

A true soul mate is probably the most important person you’ll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake. But to live with a soul mate forever? Nah.. too painful. soul mates, they come into your life just to reveal another layer of yourself to you, and then Leave.

8) 30S ARE BETTER THAN YOUR 20S

It’s the same! Except we’re still young enough to have fun without making dumb decisions. We’re also more mindful financially! We always have experienced and seen things and know what not to repeat. I feel a little more at ease at 30. I’m caring less about what other people think. I really don’t have energy for it anymore!

9) WEAR THE FUCKING SUNSCREEN

My mom always told me to wear sunscreen on my face. I never listened. I have a lot of sunspots on my face now! Wearing sunscreen helps protect you from skin cancer, wrinkles and sunspots/freckles. If you aren’t listening to ya mama, listen to me! lol I wear Glossier’s Invisible Shield, but they’ve been sold out for a good minute. So, I’m currently using Super Goop’s Sunscreen Moisturizer. So far, it hasn’t made me break out!

10) TAKE OFF YOUR MAKE UP BEFORE BED

At the very least, keep some make up removal wipes beside your bed! I know we’re tired af at the end of the night, but you’ll be doing your skin a huge favor in the long run. Just know that make up wipes don’t take off everything, you’d be surprised how much is still on your face! So always try to go further and do your skin care routine.

11) LIFE

This Life is what you make it. no matter what, you’re going to mess up sometimes. it’s a universal truth. But the good part is you get to decide how you’re going to mess it up. Girl’s will be your Friends - they’ll act like it anyways. but just remember, some come, some go. the ones that stay with you through everything- they’re your true best friends. don’t let go of them. As for Lovers, well, they’ll come and go too. And i hate to say it, most of them - actually pretty much all of them are going to break your heart, but you can’t give up because if yoi give up, you’ll never find your soulmate, you’ll never find that half who makes you whole and that goes for everything. just because you fail once, doesn’t mean you’re gonna fail at everything. keep trying, hold on, and always, always, always believe in yourself, because if you don’t, then who will? so keep your head high, keep your chin up, and most importantly, keep smiling, because life’s a beautiful thing and there’s so much to smile about.

12) GIVE YOURSELF CREDIT

Everyone on social media posts their highlight reels but only a few share the grit and grind behind it all. Don’t forget to give yourself credit even for the smallest things that you don’t think is “post worthy”. Pat yourself on the back!

13) BE MORE SELF AWARE OF HOW YOU REACT TO OTHERS

I strongly believe in the butterfly effect. How you treat others can leave a positive or negative effect on them. I always try my best to be kind to others. If I can’t be kind, I’m very quiet! Even if people are mean to me, I think deeper like are they having a bad day? Maybe my kind act can help them change their mood.

14) BE NICE AND EXPECT NOTHING IN RETURN

Best recipe to live by. So many people offer a lending hand but expect so much in return.

15) DON’T FORCE THINGS – LET IT FLOW ORGANICALLY

Someone who forces shit to happen is ignorant & aggressive. You can’t force relationships or friendships to work out. It doesn’t work that way if it’s ONE SIDED. Sometimes, TIME helps a situation out. Let it play out, what’s destined to be yours will be yours!!! All relationships should be bloomed organically. Always try to understand one another. Some people don’t move like you and that’s okay.

16) YOU DON’T TOLERATE PEOPLE OR SITUATIONS LIKE YOU USED TO

Enough said. Ain’t no body got time for that.

17) IT’S NORMAL TO SEE A THERAPIST

You don’t have to be “crazy” to see a therapist. I did and it was life changing. There’s a huge stigma with mental health, but it’s actually more common than people think. People struggle with it daily but hide it because of the stigma. I also found out that students who are trying to become a therapist offer free or very affordable services to those who don’t have insurance! Check out any college and I’m sure you’ll find something fitting!

18) MEDITATE.. DO THAT SHIT PLS

Practice your breathing too! Headspace is really helpful app that concentrates on various subjects: anxiety, depression, stress, etc. I don’t meditate long! It can be as little as 3 minutes. Taking a moment to find yourself again can help you in the long run.

19) NOW’S THE TIME TO SEE THE WORLD

BITCH, you better be planning to travel!!!!! I can’t emphasize this enough. If you’re a woman reading this, we MUST DO IT NOW. Before you have kids, just do yourself this favor. You won’t regret it. Seeing parts of the world has broaden my perspective immensely!

20) MARI KONDO THE SHIT OUT OF YOUR LIFE: CLOTHES, BOOKS…PEOPLE

I’m at this point in my life where I’m looking at everything and everyONE and ask myself, does this spark joy?! It’s completely necessary for you to start fresh and say thank you to things and people who no longer serve a purpose in your life.

21) IF YOU DON’T HEAL WHAT HURT YOU, YOU WILL BLEED ON PEOPLE WHO DIDN’T CUT YOU (@THEASLAYWAY)

You can’t rely on someone else to fill the void you were supposed to heal yourself first. Don’t be selfish and make sure that you are completed healed when moving on to the next partner!

22) DO WHAT YOU WANT, POST WHAT YOU WANT, LIVE HOW YOU WANT!!!!

WE AINT GIVIN A FUCK IN 2019 & MOVING FORWARD. Go ahead and post what you want. We’re not living for the validation of others.

23) DON’T LIVE SOMEONE ELSE’S DREAM

Currently trying to get through this right now. lol

24) MENTAL HEALTH IS JUST AS IMPORTANT AS YOUR PHYSICAL HEALTH

This goes with 17 & 18. If I sound like I’m repeating myself, then it’s because I really am adamant about it! I didn’t always have GAD, but when I realized I had it, I learned to take the necessary steps to control my anxiety. I realized working out in the gym is not the only “exercising” I should be doing. I should be practicing affirmation, gratitude & meditation.

25) BE CAREFUL WHO YOU GET CLOSE TO

Some people really just in it for the gossip. Keep your circle tight and you’ll be aiite. For me, being in the social media industry has led me to meet several people. It’s rare to meet someone genuine, so I always make sure I keep my distance but still always show respect and give them an opportunity to open up.

26) OTHER PEOPLE MAY BE TOXIC IN YOUR LIFE, BUT MAKE SURE YOU’RE NOT THE TOXIC ONE

As you get older, accountability will help you grow. Owning up to your actions towards others can help you realize how you react towards others or situations. Before pointing fingers, make sure your hands are clean. I’m a strong believer of what you give this world is gonna come back to you.

27) PLEASE DON’T WORK OUT ON ONLY BOOTY AND ABS

I remember signing up for the gym and telling the membership counselor my goal was to grow a bigger butt and get abs. I’ve learned that your body works as a whole unit, not in isolation! Overall strength over aesthetic is the wave! I love being strong <3

28) RESEARCH HOW YOU CAN IDENTIFY PERSONALITY DISORDERS

You’ll come across people in your life that you can’t see eye to eye with. It could be family, your partner or your friends. I think it’s important to grasp a better understanding of personality traits/disorders such as narcissism, bipolar, emotional abusers, psychopaths, etc. They come or are in your life more often than you think! Not only do I suggest to gain insight on it, but also I recommend researching how to DEAL with it. I promise you things will come to light once you do.

29) LOVE YOURSELF – YOU CAN’T SERVE FROM AN EMPTY VESSEL

Your 20s are your selfish years. Remember to put yourself FIRST. We cannot love someone successfully without loving ourselves first. Our first love should be ourselves to know how WE want to be loved. We must feel secure before stepping into anything serious. Live life for yourself, be gracious and love yourself wholeheartedly.

30) BEFORE YOU ARGUE

Before you argue with someone, ask yourself, is that person even mentally mature enough to grasp the concept of different perspectives? Because if not, there’s absolutely no point.

31) NEVER TAKE RESPONSIBILITY

never take responsibility for ppl not seing your worth. There was nothing u could have changed them. No perfection would have made them loyal. No sacrifice would have them made committed. Stop taking blame for decisions that aren't yours

32) Success is never owned.. it’s rented, and the rent is due everyday. -pacman

33) SOMETIMES

I care too much, I trust too much, I think too much, I love too much, everything about me is just too much. But even so I wouldn’t want to change that about me. Just holding onto the hope that one day my “too much” will be everything someone could ever want.

34) FROM GOOD THINGS TO BAD THINGS

From good things, we learn to be a thankful person. From bad things, we learn to be a strong person. Remember that everything will not go the way you want it to. It's a matter of learning that life isn't handed to you. Stop worrying about what others want. Think about what you want, if you listen too much to what people say about you, you will never be who you really are.

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Sixty-Three: Neighbors ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Uchiha Itachi, Uchiha Mikoto, Hyūga Hiashi ] [ SasuHina, death, car accident ] [ Verse: Best Years of Your Life ] [ AO3 Link ]

She doesn’t really remember their first house. Just...vague impressions. They’d only lived there for a little over five of her years, after all.

When her mother was gone...they left. It no longer felt like home without her.

They didn’t move far - the same city, but another residential district. A nicer one, if anything. At first Hiashi had insisted on living closer to work, which meant closer to the business part of town. But...once he became a single father, his priorities shifted. Just a bit. He still had the same job. Hired a nanny in the interim. But their neighborhood was...nicer. Cleaner. More spacious. They got a yard - more than the tiny patches of grass in front of and in back of the previous place.

And it’s here they stay.

Still adjusting to life without her mother, Hinata finds the additional change all the more confusing and unsettling. She tries to cling to the only other constant, but...her father is far too busy. Still working, and...closed off. At least before he’d been a bit warm whenever he was (rarely) around. But now he looks at her, and gets this...look on his face.

She doesn’t understand.

Their nanny is actually a cousin - not one Hinata knows, but someone Hiashi deems trustworthy. She feeds and cleans and cares for them both: Hinata, and the little baby. Hanabi, she’s called. For now, Hinata still doesn’t understand the connection and causation between the baby and her mother. It had taken a few weeks for the complications to take effect, after all.

All she knows is that now, she has a baby sister...but no mother.

The house next to theirs is perhaps a little bigger. Another family lives there: a mother, father, and two sons. One five years Hinata’s senior, and the other her age. The day they’d moved in, the mother had come by to offer help and a warm welcome. Her husband had been on a business trip, her boys trailing behind her curiously.

“Looks like we’re neighbors!” Mikoto had enthused. “Is it...just the three of you?”

“Yes,” had been Hiashi terse reply. “...we lost my wife this past month.”

A horrified hand lifted to hide her mouth. “I...I’m so sorry. If there’s anything you need, please! Let me know!”

“...thank you.”

They’ve been moved in a week now, and Hinata is to start school at her new kindergarten. There’s not much time left in this school year, but perhaps that’s for the best: give her a smaller introduction to the kids she’ll be in school with from now on, having entered a new district in their city.

One of them is the neighbor boy. Sasuke, as she learns he’s called. Next year, they’ll attend the same elementary Itachi is now - his elder brother.

With his face being the most familiar, it’s him she deigns to sit next to, silently tucking herself into a corner.

“...hey.”

“Hi…”

For a while, they form a wordless friendship. Nothing established: they just silently agree to do things together. Recess, lunch, activities for class.

Then Summer break arrives.

Hinata spends all her spare time at the Uchiha house. Eventually her nanny just gives up trying to keep her home, instead focusing on the baby. More often than not, Hinata eats dinner with the family, not missed by Hiashi as he works late nights. So long as she’s back before he gets home, tucked into bed, he doesn’t even seem to notice.

The new school the following Fall doesn’t see them change much. Itachi moves into junior high, but the younger pair still stick together like glue...much to the chagrin of other girls. But neither of them seem to mind.

...everything is fine until the following Summer. Hinata still makes herself at home on the other side of the fence. Both brothers seem to relish in having a pseudo-sister.

But the end of July sees tragedy strike.

Trying to go over one morning, Hinata finds the house...oddly empty. Funny, no one told her they would be away. Maybe something came up?

They’re still gone the next day.

...and then the next.

Sitting on the front step with her chin in her hands, Hinata looks up as a car pulls into the driveway. But...it’s neither of the vehicles she recognizes.

A kind of knowing - but not understanding - brews in her gut.

From the driver’s seat emerges a woman she’s never seen before. She looks...similar to Mikoto, and yet...different. Taller, a bit thinner in her build. But they have the same eyes, which look to her in surprise.

From the front seat comes a boy she’s only seen a handful of times: Itachi and Sasuke’s cousin, Shisui. Three years older than Itachi, he’s already a freshman in high school.

Then the rear doors open, and the brothers step out.

Expression still worried, Hinata ignores the adult and moves around to Sasuke’s side. “...Sasuke…?”

His face is...hollow. Dark circles rest under his eyes, and he doesn’t even look up at her.

Panic starts to bloom, but cuts off as Itachi comes to put a hand on her shoulder. His own face is wilted with sadness, and pain. “...come with me.”

Stumbling aside as she half-fights his guidance, Hinata sees Sasuke go inside with the rest of his family. “...where’s everyone else?”

The question only sees Itachi wither further. “...Hinata...a few days ago, our parents died in a car crash.”

Her heart stills.

“...our aunt Manami is here to stay with us. She’s going to move here, with Shisui. There’s...a lot more that has to happen. It’s a lot I don’t understand yet, but it’s important. Sasuke, he…” A pause. “...we’re all...having a hard time.”

“Is he okay?”

“...no. Maybe he will be later, but...he loved our parents very much. We all did, of course...but he’s taking this the hardest. I...I know this might not be something you want to hear, but...could you give him some space? Just for now? We need to be together as a family. And...you’re a very good friend, Hinata. But this is something we have to face ourselves. Do you understand?”

“...so...I have to leave?”

“Just for now. I’m sorry. You’re our very good friend, Hinata. Please don’t forget that.”

...she doesn’t understand, but...Hinata agrees. Heading back home, she herself feels numb. She’d been so young when her mother died...it hadn’t quite sunk in the way this seems to.

Her nanny asks what’s going on, and a few words explain. Hand at her mouth, she tries to express condolences, but Hinata doesn’t want to hear it. Up to her bedroom she flees, tossing atop her bed face-down.

...the Uchiha felt like family. Things had felt...normal there. Not like here. With no mother. A father who’s hardly ever home, and who seems to wish she would disappear.

And now...they’re gone too.

Why does everyone good have to leave…?!

She waits as long as she can stand it, but...trying to go over, no one answers the door. The next time, Shisui opens it, but says Sasuke doesn’t want to come play.

School starts.

...it’s like they’re strangers.

Her greeting goes ignored. He sits across the room from her. At recess, he lingers in corners with books, refusing to speak to her. To anyone.

And it only gets worse with time.

Sasuke retreats into himself. He takes to his studies almost obsessively, refusing to bond with anyone. Hinata can only watch from the sidelines as his attire darkens. There’s always music playing in his ears. Every so often, a new glint of silver peers out from his skin. Despite his good studies, fights start to break out as they get older.

All too soon, it feels like a movie. Quiet girl next door, and closed-off bad boy. And still, after all this time...he treats her like a ghost.

The Summer between their sophomore and junior years starts like any other. Hinata mostly stays home and tends to floral projects. Sasuke is gone at all hours of the night, and never emerges otherwise.

Window open to let in a breeze as she prunes a ficus she’s been tending, Hinata pauses as a sound makes its way into her room. It’s quiet, but...it sounds like music? Rising and moving to her sill, her head leans out, trying to find it. There’s no cars going by with their radios blaring, and it’s too consistent.

Instead, she looks up to see the window across from hers alight for once, despite the early evening hour.

It’s Sasuke’s room.

The pane is open, curtains pulled apart and giving a view into the space. It’s dimly lit, and she can see band posters along the walls. Sitting atop his bed, the youngest Uchiha stares down at something in his arms, fingers plucking at it.

...a...guitar?

Trying her best to be silent, she can hear the soft notes from the strings. It’s a quiet, somber tune. And something about it seems...familiar. A song she’s not heard for quite some time. For several long minutes she listens, not realizing her staring or expression.

Not until he stops and looks up.

Jolting back in surprise, she knocks her head against the window frame, earning a yelp of pain. Cradling the sore spot in her hands, she mumbles light profanities under her breath before looking up, one eye still pinched shut.

He’s staring at her, brow furrowed.

...she can’t tell if he looks angry, or concerned.

Setting aside the instrument, he moves to his own window, leaning out blank-faced. “...graceful,” he teases.

“You s-startled me!”

“That’s what you get for staring, Hyūga.”

A blink. Since when did he call her that…?

“So?”

“...so what?”

“What’d you think?”

Another blink. “...of...the song?”

“No, of the weather. Of course the song.”

A bit of flustered temper rises in her for a moment - he’s being such a jerk! “...it was v-very pretty. I...thought I recognized it, but -”

“It was my mom’s favorite song.”

Another jerk of surprise, but not enough to wallop herself again. As soon as he says it, it clicks. Mikoto used to listen to that song all the time when they were little. She’d even teach them how to dance to it…Hinata can remember standing on her feet as she laughed, spinning them around the kitchen. It had reminded her of -

“Her birthday was a few weeks ago. Got the urge to learn it. Think I’ve about got it down.”

Brought up out of the memory, she hesitates. It’s funny...she feels like she should be more excited he’s talking to her again. But...in a way, it almost feels like they never stopped. “...it sounded really good, Sasuke.”

“...wanna hear it again?”

She nods.

“Hold on.” Moving back in, he grabs the guitar before sticking a leg out the window!

“W-wait!”

“...what?”

“W-what are you doing?”

“...sitting on the sill? I do it all the time - I won’t fall.”

“...but…”

“You worry too much, Hyūga.” Adjusting himself, Sasuke tests the strings before starting the melody again.

All at once, more memories start to play in her mind. So many times spent in the house across the fence, with the family that felt more like hers than her own. Eyes closed to listen, she doesn’t notice a few tears eek out past her lids.

...and then...the visions go back further.

Just barely, she can see Hanako. Her smile. Her kind eyes. The pride in her face as she cradled her belly.

“Soon, Hinata...you’ll have a new little sister! I can’t wait to see you both grow up into beautiful young women…”

“...I’d rather still have you,” she admits in a whisper, feeling great guilt for the words, but...no regret. Even now the sisters are more like strangers. Hinata has known for a while now why Hiashi looks to her the way he does.

She looks just like her. The way Hanabi looks exactly like Hiashi. It’s why she gets all the attention. All their father’s spare time.

...and she gets nothing.

Sound fades into silence, and Hinata lets her eyes flutter open.

“...so?”

“...perfect.”

“Hn.”

“Sasuke…”

“What?”

“...can we...do this again?”

“...this?”

“Or...do we have to go back to pretending tomorrow? Will it be like this n-never happened? I don’t...I don’t know if I can go back to that.” Honest pale eyes look to him imploringly. “...I miss you, Sasuke. I miss...all of you. I miss them. I know...not as much as you do. Never that. But...I miss my family.” The sting of tears threatens to let them build. “...I want to come home.”

Surprise wipes Sasuke’s face clean in a way that makes him look ten years younger. For a moment, he’s the same wide-eyed boy that came to greet her that April day.

“...then come home.”

     OOF this one made me cry. That last line took my heart out, stomped on it, and then left me to drown in my own tears T^T      I love this trope - I was so excited to see it for today. I wanted to do a lot more (as is the case with a lot of these prompts), but...maybe it'll be one I revist when the challenge is all said and done. For now though, this is all I have time for.      And speaking of being out of time, that's all I've got for tonight! Hope you enjoyed - thanks for reading!

#hyūga hinata #uchiha sasuke #uchiha itachi #uchiha mikoto #hyūga hiashi #sasuhina #death // #car accident // #best years of your life [ au ] #365daysofsasuhina

[bevioletskies]

across the universe [1/8]

summary: Peter, the son of the Chancellor, has lived among the stars for the first ten years of his life. Gamora, the future Commander of Terra, has lived on the ground for the first ten years of hers. Though it’s finally time for the last survivors of the so-called apocalypse to return to Earth, they might not be prepared for what’s waiting for them. But when Peter and Gamora meet and find their worlds irreversibly tangled together, titles, obligations, and the impending war may be the very last thing on their minds.

a/n: The premise of this fic is very loosely based off of The 100, the television show more so than the book series. However, no previous knowledge is required, as I only used the basic concept and language, and none of the storylines or characters arcs from the show.

Fic title is from the song Across The Universe by The Beatles. Prologue can be found here. Warning for unnamed character deaths, injuries, blood, dry heaving, and Ego and Thanos being assholes to their kids.

word count: 10.2k | ao3 | tag

“Tell us more about Earth.”

Meredith turned to look at her children, who were seated beside her. They were properly strapped into their seats - she’d checked and double-checked and triple-checked that they were perfect, as she was oft to do with just about everything; what kind of doctor would she be if she wasn’t meticulous? - and gripping their seatbelts so tight, their knuckles were turning white. She was trying not to let them see the way her hands shook, too.

“What do we say, baby?” Meredith reminded him.

“Please?” He smiled angelically.

“I’ll admit, it’s not the most advanced of planets,” Meredith said, sitting back to think. “It’s diverse, though, where all walks of life can live together - or at least, try to. I lived in a place called St. Charles, Missouri, with my mama and daddy. They took me to church every Sunday at St. Peter’s when I was a little girl. My daddy would put on the news after we got home, and I liked to see what was goin’ on out there, outside our little house with a big yard. Wasn’t always so nice, but sometimes, you got to see the real good in humans. Or Terrans, as your daddy likes to call us.”

“Then Earth got destroyed by the bad air,” Peter added. “And that’s when Dad came to save everyone, an’ promised to help restore it with his powers so they could have their planet back.”

“Would you like to tell the story now, Peter?” Meredith teased.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly.

“Anyways, I remember when I first woke up from cryo-sleep, one of the first things I saw was your daddy, standin’ by my side.” Meredith smiled, reminiscing of a time not too long ago. “I asked him what he wanted. He said, ‘I visited your Earth once before. While I was there, I saw some of the most beautiful sights I’d ever seen, and I’ve been across the universe’. I thought it was a little strange since we’d never spoken before, so I asked him what he meant. He described these flowers, these blooming, vibrant little red beauties, and I said, ‘you must be talkin’ about the river lily’. He laughed and told me I was just like a river lily - the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.”

“I like that story, Mama,” Mantis chirped, leaning around Peter to look at her. “It does not sound like Daddy, though.”

“No, he’s...not much like that nowadays, is he?” Meredith let out a false laugh that made Peter’s brows knit together, though he wisely decided not to comment on it. “Sit tight now. They’ve got officers coming ‘round to make sure we’re ready for departure.”

“We’re already here, ma’am,” a raspy voice said above them, causing the three of them to jump, startled by its sudden arrival.

“Kraglin? You’re not an officer yet,” Peter said accusingly.

“No, but cap’n got all his recruits on duty since there’s so many dang people to account for,” Kraglin grumbled, pulling out his holotab. “Can I get your names?”

“...you know our names, Kraglin,” Peter said, squinting at him dubiously. “And is Yondu here? I was hopin’ he could sit with us.”

“Cap’n’s sitting with the Chancellor and the Council, along with all them other important folk,” Kraglin shrugged. “Names, please.”

Frustrated, Peter sat back in his seat with his arms crossed. Meredith patted him half-consolingly, half-reminding him to control his temper, then began to neatly recite their full names for Kraglin’s records. After he left, she turned to Peter. “You know the rules, baby. Families sit together, and Yondu’s a good man and a good friend, but he’s not family.”

“Then why do I see him more than Dad?” Peter shot back.

“Peter!” Meredith exclaimed. “You know, I’ve just about had it with you sayin’ things like that like they don’t hurt. When we get to Earth, you’re...you’re grounded.” She paused, then, realizing the absurdity of her statement, let out a laugh that even caught herself off guard. Peter turned to look at Mantis, wondering if their mother had finally lost it after being cooped up in space for fifteen years as she continued to laugh like it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard in her life.

Gamora woke to her usual morning soundtrack of clanging metal and warrior cries, the smell of oil and sweat permeating every fabric and every surface in every room on Sanctuary. Though she lived on the top floor, thanks in no small part to her status, there always seemed to be something going on in Thanos’s private quarters nearby. He trained constantly, and was never without his most loyal (and frankly, his most morally-corrupt) generals and advisors at his side, consulting on everything from war tactics to technology to governance.

She slipped out of bed, got dressed, and quietly made her way into the kitchen, another room accessible only by Thanos and his “children”, frowning at the sight of an excessive amount of rations that could...well, that could feed their whole army. Through the kitchen’s backdoor was a storage warehouse with rows upon rows of cured meats, a huge indoor vegetable garden (there were shutters covering an opening in Sanctuary’s vast ceiling that cast just the right amount of sunlight over it), and a whole wall of ice boxes that contained seeds and medicine that would last them for centuries. All of this, and she was allowed to speak about none of it to no one.

Gamora never understood why Thanos chose to form a settlement on Terra, of all places. She knew vaguely of its history, its tragedy, its rebirth, but it never stood out to her as particularly desirable compared to all the other places Thanos must have conquered in the past. She wasn’t oblivious to Thanos’s history, however - in fact, he’d told her outright that he had failed to save many planets from their untimely deaths, including hers and Nebula’s, and it meant he had to do a lot of unsavory things in the process. She knew there was a lot more to him than what he claimed to be, and she knew that she didn’t have to be a grown adult to understand that he was no savior. She also knew there was a lot she was still yet to know.

“Gamora.” She turned to see Nebula standing in the doorway, looking unusually tired. “Father has called for both of us.”

“It’s too early for a meeting, isn’t it? I thought people were still healing from last night’s attack,” Gamora commented, but she followed her sister regardless.

A few winding, eerily empty corridors later, the two of them walked up to the door to his war room, recoiling at the unwelcome sight of Proxima and Cull standing guard. “Children,” Proxima said snidely, barely sparing them a glance. Cull grunted.

“Adults,” Nebula snarked back. “Father wants to see us.”

“I can’t imagine why,” Proxima sniffed.

Nebula reeled back, ready to make another retort, but Gamora instead laid a hand on her shoulder, shaking her head in silence. It would do her no good to taunt their older “siblings”, not when they had the ability to kill them in seconds. Gamora smiled tightly at Proxima. “How is Corvus?”

Proxima’s jaw slowly unclenched. “Recovering.” She stepped aside. “Go on.”

They entered the room after receiving one last scowl, courtesy of Cull, and were granted the sight of Thanos stood by his various holoscreens, his back turned to them, Maw at his side. “Daughters,” he said curtly, still fixated on one particular battle plan that was blown up across six adjacent screens. “It’s time.”

“Time for what?” Nebula grouched.

Thanos turned, narrowing his eyes in her direction. “Watch your tone, Nebula,” he hissed. “It is time for the Sky People to descend to the ground. As of two hours ago, I’ve received reports from our scouts near Trishanakru that a vessel far larger than Sanctuary has broken through the atmosphere. I suspect we’ll be feeling their impact at any moment.”

“What do we do?” Gamora asked.

“We’ve already initiated a lockdown of all essential areas, and have made the call for all families to retreat to Sanctuary and stay in their quarters. And, of course, the army has already been sent out in pursuit of the invaders.” Thanos’s lip curled in an oddly contemplative snarl. “As for you two...I need children to act as my scouts.”

“And...why is that, Father?” Gamora said carefully.

“It won’t be all children, of course, just you and the other contenders. Your rivals, Gamora,” Thanos hummed, turning back around. Maw let out a delighted tittering noise that made both sisters want to punch him square in the jaw even more than usual. “The army has been ordered to kill groups on sight. But the children are to find isolated stragglers and bring them to me.”

Gamora swallowed. “Okay. When do we leave?”

“Now. And pack some rations,” Thanos said, fully directing his attention back to the screens, sweeping through page after page of his battle plans, arranging and rearranging as he saw fit. “Do not return until you have something of interest.”

Peter didn’t realize he’d fallen asleep until he was waking up, only he hadn’t exactly fallen asleep, he had been knocked out cold. Groaning, he rubbed his eyes, blinking blearily into the darkness. It wasn’t exactly dark, either; there was a bright red light flashing over and over again like a silent siren. Before he could discern what was happening, though, he felt something run into his eyes; Peter yelped in surprise and began wiping it out with the heels of his palms. Whatever it was, it was sticky and slightly warm to the touch.

He stumbled to his feet, trying to recall where he’d been last and when that had been, squinting at his pitch-black surroundings. We were headin’ to Earth, Peter thought, his scattered brain still buzzing with adrenaline, made even more disoriented by the flashing lights. Then some crazy stuff started happening when we broke through the atmosphere, and people were freaking out - Mantis! Mom! He looked down at his feet, where he could vaguely make out the silhouettes of Mantis sprawled out on top of Meredith, almost like she’d been thrown there. It was then that he realized the whole ship had crash-landed sideways; their seats were completely tipped in the other direction, the walls crushed against the ground.

Peter knelt beside them, shaking their shoulders urgently. “Mom! Mantis! C’mon, you gotta wake up!” He felt a knot of anxiety tying itself up in his stomach the longer they didn’t respond. “I think we’re on Earth, I don’t know why I don’t see no one else, I - Mom, I’m scared, I don’t wanna, I need, I - ”

“Quill?”

He let out a sob of relief, running in the direction of the familiar voice and flinging his arms around his waist. “Yondu!”

“Good to see you’re in one piece, though you’re bleedin’ a bit,” Yondu said gruffly, patting him awkwardly on the back. He drew a dusty rag from his utility belt and wiped Peter’s forehead; he belatedly became dizzy at the realization of what the sticky substance was. “Your mom and sister?”

“They ain’t getting up,” Peter said, tugging on Yondu’s sleeve to pull him back towards them. “What happened, Yondu, what’s goin’ on?”

“Well, to make a long story short - we crashed. Real bad,” Yondu sighed, lifting his flashlight a little higher, casting it over Meredith and Mantis’s faces. “Whole sections of the ship, they didn’t make it. Others, like you, were lucky. Relatively, o’ course. Been spending the last hour tryin’ to find survivors. Your mama and sister, I see their shoulders movin’, they’re breathin’, they’re okay. We’re gonna need Meredith and her team to help with some pretty nasty wounds - if she’s up to it, o’ course.”

“What about Dad?” Peter looked at him expectantly. “He said he was gonna come find us before we landed, and I thought he was gonna get us to sit with him on the command bridge.” He hung his head. “That was a lie, wasn’t it?”

“Dunno what to tell you, boy,” Yondu said, his discomfort rapidly growing. “But let’s get you and your family outta here. Don’t need you seeing all this mess.” He gestured aimlessly at the other unmoving bodies. Peter didn’t want to think about which ones were never going to move again, or he was sure to throw up.

A few of Yondu’s guardsmen came in to help carry out the survivors, while Peter sat impatiently on a cot in one of the makeshift medical tents that the nurses had set up just outside. He tried not to look at the smoldering remains of the Ark, how crumpled and despondent some sections looked, while other parts looked relatively salvageable. Peter certainly couldn’t appreciate his first breath of fresh air, either, or the feeling of wind in his hair, or the beautiful lake on the other side of the tent. It all felt sour, it felt undeserved, it felt wrong.

“You doing okay, Peter?” the nurse asked kindly. “I took a look at your mom and your sister, they’re gonna be just fine. Good chance of a mild concussion, and Meredith’s got a bit of a dislocated shoulder, but nothing some rest and medicine won’t fix.”

“I’m not okay,” Peter mumbled. “People are dead.”

His face fell. “I know. But we can’t think about that right now, alright? We have to help the living.”

Another ten minutes passed before the tent flapped open, but instead of the faces that Peter wanted to see more than anything else in their new world, he saw the cape first instead of its wearer. “Peter! Son, are you okay?”

“Everyone keeps askin’ me that,” Peter grouched, turning the other way. “What am I s’posed to say when people are dead, Dad?!”

“Whoa, now! Watch your tone,” Ego snapped, his face instantly contorting into something more cruel. He stormed over to Peter and grabbed his face, pinching his chin with one hand until Peter’s cheeks ached from the pressure. “What do you say, Peter?” The nurse let out a quiet gasp of surprise and promptly ran out of the tent.

“Sorry,” Peter said, his voice still hardened. Ego released him, though he didn’t look satisfied. Before he could respond, though, the tent opened yet again, and Meredith stormed in like a hurricane, still wrapped in a shock blanket. She whipped it off and promptly flung it at Ego, though it barely grazed his shoulder on its way down.

“Meredith!” Ego exclaimed, chuckling like she merely amused him.

She let out a feral growl in return. “I oughta give you a piece of my mind right now,” Meredith hissed. “You had no business bringin’ us down here when there was even a chance of death!”

“There’s always a chance of death, sweetheart, that’s how life works,” Ego said, waving his hand dismissively. “You think I didn’t calculate every single possibility, figure out every possible thing that could go wrong? You really think that little of me, Meredith?”

“Don’t make this about what I think of you, though I have plenty more thoughts I’d like to share,” Meredith snapped, picking up her blanket and wrapping it back around her body, shivering, though not from the blustery cold. “You got an estimate on how many people we’ve lost today? Or are you too busy going ‘round, pretendin’ everything’s just peachy?”

“Mom,” Peter interrupted. “Where’s Mantis?”

“Oh, baby, I’m sorry. Here I am ramblin’, and I haven’t even checked up on you yet.” Meredith went to Peter’s side, gently prodding along his skull and ribcage even though he’d already been checked a half-dozen times by her best nurses. She then held his face in both hands, cupping his cheeks, and leaned down to kiss his forehead. “Mantis is getting cleaned up a few tents down, she knows to come straight here after she’s done. Peter...are you gonna be okay?”

Peter choked out an insincere laugh. “I think so.”

Ego cleared his throat loudly from behind them. “I have to speak with the Council about setting up base here. Think we landed in a mighty good spot - lots of trees and water. It’ll be great support for the manufacturing stations.”

“Don’t you pretend you did a good thing here, Ego,” Meredith said, her voice scarily low. “And don’t you pretend our conversation is done, either. I’ve got plenty more to say.”

“I can tell,” Ego said blithely, turning and walking right out, his expression decidedly neutral. Meredith seethed at his retreating back, wrapping her arms around Peter even tighter.

“People are dead, Mom,” Peter mumbled into her shoulder; he was starting to sound like a broken record.

“We’ll do right by ‘em, baby,” Meredith promised, rubbing his back reassuringly. “Once we clean up the mess your daddy made, we’ll have a celebration of life, right out there on the lake. Did you see it?”

“Yeah.” He sank into her, drowning himself in her warmth, the smell of her perfume and shampoo, unable to hold up his own bodyweight for even one more second. “Yeah, it was nice.”

“Good morning, heda.” Gamora turned to see a rather snide-looking group of children around her age with a few that seemed significantly older, standing behind her, arms folded tightly across their chests. The first thing she noticed, aside from their unfriendly faces, was the weapons slung on their backs or holstered at their hips. “I hear we are following your greatness today.”

“Hey! I was the one who saved your parents’ lives yesterday,” Gamora snapped.

“Forgive us for not bowing at your feet,” another child sneered, one of the older ones, one who seemed far too old to be looking at Gamora with such unwarranted scorn. “Anyone with half a brain would have done the same.”

Gamora glanced over at Nebula, who merely shrugged; she was barely paying attention to their conversation. Unfortunately, it was like most conversations between them and other children, whether during classes or training sessions or unwanted encounters in the halls, and it hardly elicited a reaction out of Nebula anymore. Simply put, there was nothing that would convince the others that Gamora was worthy of what she’d been given.

“We’re losing light,” Gamora said coldly, turning back to look at the others. “We have our orders and our gear. Meet back here at sunset.” She then called for everyone to form small groups, and unsurprisingly, the majority immediately moved away from the girls so they could cluster up together, then took off in different directions the second they were ready, not bothering to announce their departure. Only one child was left standing, one that Gamora had seen many times before, one who never quite seemed to find his footing with the others. “Join us, Drax.”

“Are you sure, heda?” he asked, stepping forward regardless. “I would not want to slow you down.”

“You won’t. We won’t let you,” Gamora said, smiling faintly. “I’ve seen you train...you’re really good. I think your parents would be proud.” Drax’s face crumpled a little at the mention of them, but he quickly recovered, nodding and falling into step beside the sisters.

The three of them ventured across a seemingly endless field of lush grass, far away from everyone else, who had gone for the trees. They knew it left them open, vulnerable to attack, but Gamora told herself she couldn’t afford to be scared. She told herself that Thanos didn’t want to see her until they brought back a hostage. She told herself not to think about what would happen if she didn’t.

Of course, she hated the idea, but she was never going to tell him that. She had always been curious about the legendary skaikru, the people who were saved by a mysterious force right before their planet fell apart. They weren’t even considered Terran anymore, given that they’d been away from Earth for a hundred years, with children who had never breathed fresh air or tasted water that wasn’t artificially created. Meanwhile, the forest, the ocean, the wind and snow, it was all she’d ever known, but Gamora knew she wasn’t truly Terran, either. The idea of designating the Sky People as some “other” who were to be immediately tortured or killed for returning to what had been theirs disgusted her, but she knew no amount of reasoning would change Thanos’s bloodlust. His ongoing war with other factions that had split off from them when they first arrived was proof enough.

“I hear the river, heda,” Drax called; he was a good thirty feet in front of them, gesturing for them to catch up.

“Call me Gamora,” she insisted, her and Nebula jogging up beside him. “If skaikru were smart, they wouldn’t be out here. They would hide in the trees.”

“Then why did we not go to the trees?” Drax asked curiously.

“Because Gamora doesn’t want to be around the others,” Nebula interjected, smirking.

“Because we are looking for stragglers, not the entire group. If they ran or got kicked out, they would be far away from their camp,” Gamora reasoned, elbowing her sister in warning. Nebula’s face fell a little; it was hard to argue with that. “Do you see mud trails?”

“Why?” Nebula grumbled. “There’s mud everywhere.”

“It means someone walked across the river, and we could follow it to see where they went,” Drax volunteered. “The skaikru don’t know how to cover their tracks like we do.”

“Right,” Gamora nodded, pleased. “Let’s go.”

She and Drax immediately started walking again, while Nebula trailed behind sullenly, folding her arms across her chest. As they continued on, their eyes trained on the ground and the sky, Gamora couldn’t help but watch Drax, too. She didn’t know his story, aside from his parents being long dead, but he seemed like the type who could handle a fight. The other children didn’t like him much, but she occasionally saw him spending time in the Sanctuary’s hangar bay with two young engineering prodigies who worked under one of Thanos’s generals, Rocket and Groot. She wasn’t sure how their companionship had started, but she’d never been curious enough to ask. She was almost curious enough to ask now.

“Heda?” His voice broke into her thoughts.

“I said not to call me that,” she countered.

“Mud, like you said,” he said simply, pointing. Gamora followed his line of sight and jogged over, crouching down by the tracks. She wasn’t skilled enough to place any identifiers - height, weight, age - but at least it would keep them from wandering aimlessly forever.

Gamora straightened up, sucking in an unsteady breath. “Follow me.”

The mood at Arkadia was appropriately somber, the air thick with tension and unspoken words. Ego had made his usual rousing speech, swearing not to give up, to not let the “sacrifices” (and oh, how Peter and Meredith hated that word, like their deaths had been planned somehow) of the dead be in vain. It didn’t have the effect he wanted, much to Meredith’s secret satisfaction, and there were already whispers among their people that a new Chancellor was to be called for on the ground.

The ship, Ego’s beloved ship, was still a smoking husk of what it was just hours ago, and no one wanted to be reminded of the smell of death, so more tents were set up in a temporary formation, grouped less by station and affiliation, and more by relationships, families and friends who used to go weeks without seeing each other, who were now able to cross boundaries and set their own. Peter and Mantis went to take a nap in their tent after Ego’s speech, exhausted by the day’s events and their father’s empty promises.

“Are you awake, Peter?” Mantis mumbled, lifting herself up onto her elbows. Peter groaned and rolled onto his back. “Are you okay?”

“You tell me,” he snapped, though Mantis didn’t seem offended by his tone. “Everyone keeps askin’ me that like I’m s’posed to be okay with people being dead. People who didn’t do nothing.”

“There are always people who die who did not do anything.” Mantis turned away from him, unable to look Peter in the eye. “My real mama. For having me.”

Peter sighed, the fight leaving his body as he exhaled. “I wish Mom would tell us what happened, so I know what to be mad at Dad for.”

“You are always mad at him, though,” Mantis said blithely. “You are mad when he is here, and when he is not.”

“Yeah, what’s your point?”

“I think it hurts you more than it hurts him,” Mantis observed. “Maybe you should talk.”

“Yeah, right,” Peter scoffed, also rolling over so he was facing away from her, leaving them back-to-back. He curled further into his scratchy blankets and flat pillow, sorely missing his cold, unfriendly bunk back in their little apartment. It was hard for him to process that he would never sleep there again, considering he was almost certain he was going to live his entire life on the Ark, wasting his days and nights dreaming about Earth the way it was never going to be.

“I am telling you what you feel,” Mantis said, scrunching up her nose in anger at him, though he obviously couldn’t see her face. She got to her feet, staring down at him with fury burning in her eyes. “You said to tell you.”

He sighed again, burrowing into himself, wishing everything and everyone would just...go back to the way it was. The way he never knew he could want so badly. “Leave me alone, Mantis.” He heard her irritated grunt and the stomp of her feet, then watched her leave.

It didn’t take long for the tent flaps to open again, though a whiff of perfume told him that it wasn’t his sister. “You two fighting again?” Meredith said sternly, kneeling by his side. “Oh, baby.”

“Happens all the time, don’t gotta fuss about it,” Peter retorted.

“Sure. You’re both young and stubborn as mules.” At his puzzled expression, she added, “It’s a Terran animal. They sure love to dig their heels in the dirt when they don’t wanna go nowhere. Anyways, just because it happens all the time, that doesn’t mean it should. A few harmless fights can turn into a big one real quick, and next thing you know, you never talk again. Or you try to hurt each other in ways that only you know how.” She sighed, her intuition nagging at her brain, telling her to say it before Peter did. “Like me and your daddy.”

“But you still love him,” Peter said. He finally sat up, hugging his knees into his chest. “Or...I mean, yeah, you do, right?”

Meredith smiled another false smile. “Of course, Peter. Don’t you?”

Peter hesitated. “It’s hard sometimes. ‘Specially when he let all those people die.”

She reached out to cup his face with her hand, gently running her thumb over his cheek. “I’m mad at him, too. I’m furious. But you see, life ain’t as easy as one good path and one bad one. Sometimes it’s lots of paths that eventually lead to the right place, but getting there is what hurts. And sometimes, the paths don’t connect or make sense, and that makes it even harder. Your daddy’s doing the best he can with what he has, and I think if he tells us what happened, we can try to understand. Okay?”

He nodded, cracking the tiniest of smiles. “Okay.”

“Oh, and Yondu wants to see you, by the way. I already told him I don’t want to hear nothing about him training you again, but heaven knows neither of you listen to me,” Meredith chuckled. She took him by the hand and led him out of the tent to where Yondu was stationed, and for the first time, they could both appreciate the bite of fresh air along the way. “Come find me at the medical section when you’re done, alright? We’ll go have dinner together.” She kissed him briefly on the forehead before leaving, her mind already racing with the patients she had yet to see.

The guards’ quarters were merely just another long row of tents, most of which were unoccupied since the guardsmen were out helping the other Arkadians set up their temporary base, but Peter still couldn’t help but swallow down the lump in his throat. It was true; he had no interest in becoming a member of the guard since it felt all too rigid for him, too routine. He did like the uniform, though, and he did like Yondu and Kraglin, even though the rest of the guardsmen intimidated him. They watched him almost too closely, given that he was the Chancellor’s son, and he didn’t like that particular kind of attention. It was hard to do anything remotely adventurous with so many eyes following him everywhere he went.

“What took you so long, boy?” Yondu demanded. He was sitting at the front of the tent enclosure, his feet kicked up on a small, half-broken cooler. He seemed far less shaken than when he’d found Peter in the wreckage, though it was pretty typical of Yondu’s usual demeanor.

“Mom wanted to talk,” Peter protested. “She didn't even say nothin’ about you ‘til the end.” His eyes then brightened. “So are we gonna train more?”

“Surprised you can even think about something like that righ’ now,” Yondu shrugged.

“I just wanna think about somethin’ else, I guess,” Peter said quietly. “Me and Mantis had a fight, and I don’t wanna talk to Dad. So...are we?”

“Look, boy, there’s only one person I’m more scared of than your daddy, and that’s your mama,” Yondu said, chuckling wryly. Still, he gestured for Peter to come closer and sit beside him. “I know I told her it was for Kraglin, but she’s right. I could get any ol’ guard of mine to train with him. I’m doing it for you. But she’s your mama, and she knows you better than I do. So...we gotta stop.”

“But - ” Peter cut himself off, unsure of what to say. “We can still hang out and stuff, right?”

“What you wanna hang around an old man like me for?” Yondu exclaimed. “Don’t you got friends your own age?”

Peter shuffled uncomfortably, wringing his hands, and Yondu suddenly regretted asking. “Not really,” he mumbled. “No one wants to hang out with the Chancellor’s kids. Everyone thinks we’re weirdos for having powers, and that if they do somethin’ wrong, we’re gonna ask Dad to float ‘em.”

Yondu watched Peter carefully, watched his head hang a little lower, watched the corners of his mouth droop a little in despondence. He never quite knew what to say when Peter was in one of his moods - which was often - given that he’d never really had someone so young follow him around before. Sure, he had the occasional overbearing parent who insisted he train their “darling” son or daughter, but the child themselves were usually uninterested in the ordeal. Peter, on the other hand, had been in Yondu’s life since he was born, back when Ego liked to bring his infant son to meetings and show him off, excited that his Celestial powers were already beginning to manifest. Personally, Yondu thought it was more impressive that baby Peter was the only person who could make even the coldest of Council members smile.

“Just don’t be botherin’ me when I’m on duty, got it?” Yondu finally said, his voice gruff. Peter’s eyes lit up.

“Duties? What kind?” Peter asked. “Can I come?”

Yondu sighed, getting to his feet and gesturing for Peter to follow. “Guess your mama can’t fault me if you tag along on my rounds. C’mon, I hear there’s something goin’ on at hydra station.”

Gamora let out a surprisingly labored breath, sinking down onto a nearby fallen log, the palms of her hands digging into the wood grain, leaving painfully sharp welts as if to remind her of the time she was wasting. “I need a second. Let’s eat.”

Nebula looked down at her derisively. “Some heda you are. It’s only been three hours.” Gamora glared back, silently pulling her rations out of her bag and beginning to eat; she clearly wasn’t giving them a choice. Drax shrugged, not wanting to argue with her, and sat down to eat as well.

The mud trail they’d been following had eventually led to nowhere, drying up somewhere not too far from where they’d started, making it indistinguishable from the forest ground. Gamora, however, wasn’t about to admit she’d made a mistake, and was carrying on in the same direction. She supposed Nebula saw right through her, but she wasn’t certain about Drax. He seemed attentive for someone who barely knew her, but then again, maybe he just needed a friend. She also wondered whether the other children had succeeded already, if someone was bringing back a hostage this very minute. Thanos would probably - no, definitely - be disappointed if she wasn’t the first one back, would have some fresh form of torture ready in anticipation of her failure. Gamora glanced down at her arm, turning it over so she was looking at the inside of her wrist; a small glint of silver reflected back, reminding her of the last time she'd failed.

“What is that, heda?”

At the sound of Drax’s voice, she quickly pulled her sleeve down over her wrist. “Nothing.”

“Are you hurt?” Drax persisted, reaching for her arm.

“Old injury,” Gamora replied shortly, which wasn’t exactly a lie. “We should go.”

They continued on for some time, finding themselves starting to shiver when they came close to the border of Azgeda territory. Of all the warring nations, they were the coldest, both figuratively and literally, and even Nebula could muster up something resembling sympathy for any poor skaikru soul that ended up on their land. Not enough sympathy, however, to cross their borders in search of stragglers.

“This is stupid,” Nebula announced loudly about an hour later. “Who would stop us if we just stayed out here forever and never went back?”

“We’d die, Nebula,” Gamora reminded her. “Come on, we have to do this.”

“No, you do. No matter what I do, Father won’t care anyway,” Nebula said, sulking, her inky eyes narrowed to slits.

“You don’t know that,” Gamora protested. “If you bring someone back, if you tell him it was all you - ”

It only seemed to agitate Nebula further; she reared back to spit at Gamora, disgusted by her unwanted empathy, and then turned and began sprinting out of the forest and into the open, toward the dreaded border. Nebula screamed at the top of her lungs, something feral and raw and unintelligible that made Gamora’s heart stop for a split second, paralyzed with disbelief. She then went running after her, keeping her head low, hoping she wouldn’t be spotted by snipers in the tall grass; she could just barely hear Drax’s thundering footsteps behind her over the pounding of her heart against her ribcage.

Gamora wanted to call out, but she knew Azgeda warriors were notorious for hiding themselves right outside their walls, and she wasn’t about to announce where she was. The further she went, the harder it was to see, and all she could see was a blurry glimpse of Nebula just up ahead, making it impossible to figure out which direction she was going, swerving and turning at random.

Nebula’s sustained cry was interrupted by a sudden panicked yelp, followed by a sickening crunch. Gamora felt her heart leap in her throat, threatening to spill right out, and she sprinted faster, at a speed she didn’t know she was capable of. She and Drax came to a stop and nearly skidded right into the hole that Nebula had fallen into.

It was at least ten square feet across, and a good fifteen feet deep; laid on top of its opening was an intricately weaved net of grass and branches with a break in the middle, clearly where Nebula had taken one wrong step. She now laid at the bottom in a crumpled, undignified heap, still conscious and breathing, but now clutching at her broken leg. Nebula clenched her jaw, staring up at them with a burning hatred in her eyes as if they’d put her there.

“I see guards, heda,” Drax said, his voice trembling. “What do we do?”

“Gamora.” Astonished, Gamora looked down to see her sister’s expression had changed to something that seemed far more suitable for the child that she was than the adult she was trying to be, the hardness of her eyes melting away in favor of desperation. She grappled at the side of the pit, but the dirt crumbled beneath her fingers.

Gamora turned to look back at Drax, unsure if Nebula wanted her pity. “Carry her back to camp. I’ll fight the guards,” she ordered, missing the way her sister’s face fell.

“They are adults, Gamora. You are just a child,” Drax protested.

Gamora scoffed, putting her hands on her hips. “So now my name is Gamora. I am your heda, and you will listen to me. Take my sister. I’ll follow.”

Drax nodded, though it wasn’t without apprehension. He knelt on the ground so he could contort the net into a makeshift rope for Nebula, his brow furrowed with effort. Gamora smiled tightly at her sister, hoping it wouldn’t be the last time she’d ever see her again. She then turned, gritting her teeth, and began running toward the oncoming rush of Azgeda warriors.

Dinner was about as tense as could be expected, with every last Arkadian either sitting in stone-faced silence, shouting and spitting in the faces of the Council members who eventually retreated to the safety (and cowardice) of their own quarters, or sobbing into their stews. Even Ego had to return to his own tent by the time it was dark, unable to face the faces of his people, who at best, felt betrayed, but at worst, were vengeful.

Upon his return, he found Meredith, Peter, and Mantis sitting on the ground, ignoring the cots he’d lined up neatly along the back wall. The children were snuggled into Meredith’s side while she read to them, laughing and interjecting with comments in the appropriate (or in Peter’s case, inappropriate) places. They all looked up at the sound of his footsteps, genuinely surprised to see him. “Ego,” Meredith said, slowly closing the book over her thumb, holding her place. “You’re back early.”

“You never came to dinner,” Ego said airily, striding over to the cots so he could sit down and take off his boots, keeping his back to his family.

“Peter wanted to eat with the guardsmen. Kraglin’s a very good friend of his,” Meredith added.

Ego glanced over his shoulder to look at them, his eyes hard. “I know who my son is friends with,” he said shortly. “But it’s Yondu you’ve gone and gotten attached to, isn’t it, son?”

“I like ‘em both,” Peter said carefully, shrugging. Ego didn’t seem satisfied with his answer, but he didn’t press further. Instead, he reached for the haphazardly-drawn blueprints in his bag and passed it to Meredith, his face relaxing into a gentle smile at the crease that formed between her brows in confusion.

“Construction starts tomorrow,” Ego said, wanting to lean over and press his thumb to her forehead, smooth out her worries, but he wisely decided against it.

“This is...it’s a mansion, baby,” Meredith finally said, her eyes still roaming over the building plans. “Are you gonna have the strength to make that many big ol’ houses for everyone?”

“Come on now, Mer, that’s our house,” Ego chuckled. “Everyone else will get something a little more...standard. Except for the council members, of course, you know how they get. And farm station will need extra land for cultivating - ”

“We don’t need all that space, it’s only us and two kids,” Meredith interrupted. “Do you even know that there’s some families with over twelve people that lived in them tiny apartments on the Ark? Now they could use a big house.”

“I’m going to build you a ballroom, just like the ones you described,” Ego continued like he hadn’t heard her. “Big windows, lots of light, columns that go all the way up to the ceiling - I thought you’d like that, darling. So we can have a proper dance, whenever we want.”

“I do like that idea,” Meredith admitted. “But we don’t need a kitchen with all these extra little gadgets, or three sitting rooms. And I think Peter and Mantis can live with sharin’ a bathroom. I had a brother growin’ up, we survived.” Her expression faltered. “Or I guess... I did.”

“I didn’t know you had a brother, Mama,” Mantis chirped, her large eyes flickering back and forth between them. Peter clapped a hand over her mouth before she could inquire further, his blood running cold in realization of what Meredith meant.

“This is what we deserve, Meredith,” Ego insisted. “We’ve been stuck in that tiny little place on the Ark for too long now, it’s about time we get some breathing room.”

“‘We’? You were only home two nights a week, if you were there at all!” Meredith shot to her feet; her cheeks were flushed red. “And I haven’t the faintest idea what you mean by ‘deserve’. What makes us better than any of the rest? We ain’t gods, Ego, we’re just like everyone else.”

“That’s the thing, sweetheart, we really aren’t,” Ego sneered, his voice rising. “I’m the chancellor, you’re the head medic, and we know Peter’s gonna follow in his old man’s footsteps when he’s older, isn’t that right, Peter?” He didn’t bother looking to see if Peter so much as reacted. “And if you think we should still be in a tiny little dump just so we can be ‘like everyone else’, you got some strange ideas about how to live!”

“And I don’t know where you got your idea that you could talk to me like that,” Meredith’s eyes were blazing with a kind of fury that neither of her children had ever seen. Mantis cowered behind Peter, peering gingerly over his shoulder. “We don’t need a big house, we never did. We don’t need more space between us, we need less, so maybe we can go back to being a family. If we ever were a family.”

“Meredith - ”

“Do you know how embarrassin’ it is, going about my day, hearin’ all the things people say about you? All them rumors about what you do when you’re not home, who you’re really with, who Mantis really belongs to?”

Mantis gasped. Peter pulled her into his arms so he could steady her breathing against his chest, wishing fiercely that he could stop the sobs that rattled through her throat. “Mom, c’mon, you’re scarin’ her.”

Meredith turned to look at her children then, almost as if she’d forgotten they were there, and the fire in her eyes extinguished, her expression melting back into something more recognizable. She knelt beside them, reaching for Mantis. “Baby, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to - ”

Mantis merely curled into Peter further, rejecting Meredith’s plea. “You want him to hurt,” she mumbled. “Why does everyone want to hurt each other so much?”

“It’s what Terrans do, Mantis,” Ego said coolly. It was the first time he’d said her name in days. “Come on now, we’re just having a little argument. Nothing to get upset about.”

“I do not just feel what is in here, but everything out there, too,” Mantis said, slowly unravelling herself from Peter’s grasp. “Everyone is sad...and angry. They want to hurt you.” She paused. “I feel...others. People I do not know. They want to hurt you, too.” Peter shivered.

Ego knelt in front of her, bringing them eye-to-eye, gripping her shoulders so hard that his knuckles went white. “And what does that mean?”

“Frag emo op!”

For the second time in twenty-four hours, Peter felt his whole world spin on its axis, only this time he was conscious enough to remember it - remember the way Meredith immediately leapt to cover them both, pinning him and Mantis to the ground, remember the way their tent went up in flames, crackling and hissing and spitting as the fire devoured itself, remember the way Ego went charging out into the open with his hands outstretched, powers at full blast, searing blinding white light across the expanse of their settlement, roaring with anger.

“What’s happening?” Peter exclaimed frantically once he found his voice again, barely noticing the sour taste of dirt in his mouth or the scrapes on his elbows and knees.

“I don’t know, baby, but stay calm,” Meredith murmured, helping to push his hair away from his eyes, though she sounded like she was on the verge of tears. “We gotta get movin’ before we inhale too much smoke. Follow me.”

The three of them belly-crawled across the ground, keeping themselves beneath the flames that licked at their heels and the putrid air that danced in their throats. After what felt like the longest minute of their lives, Meredith pulled them both to their feet and they all began to profusely cough what felt like the entire contents of their lungs out. “Wait - what - what about Dad?” Peter wheezed. “I got powers too, I could help - ”

“No. We don’t know what we’re dealin’ with here,” Meredith said firmly. “That language they spoke? That don’t sound like nothin’ we’ve ever heard before.”

“What do you mean?” Mantis asked.

Meredith paused. “It means we aren’t alone.”

“Alone?” Peter repeated.

“We can’t think about that right now, okay? We need to get to safety. Your daddy will find us later, he always does,” Meredith promised, pulling them both in for a brief embrace. “Let’s go find Yondu. If he’s doing his job right, he’s already got an evacuation plan up and runnin’.”

They ran through the camp, dodging the panicked Arkadians sprinting past, screaming themselves hoarse trying to find their families and friends. Peter could also hear the heavy footfalls of unfamiliar boots, the metallic clang of weapons striking their targets, the sickening crunch of bodies collapsing to the ground. The loudest sound, however, was Mantis crying frantically beside him, her breath running ragged, clutching to him and Meredith so hard that her fingernails were digging welts into their wrists.

Then, a flash of metal appeared in the corner of Peter’s peripheral vision - bright, brilliant silver, coming straight down toward Mantis’s head - and he shouted, bringing his hands up without hesitation. A blast of white light burned from his palms, stronger than any light he’d projected before, flinging the attacker clean across the field before they could even graze his sister’s shoulder.

Heads turned his way, faces that he didn’t recognize, some humanoid and some entirely alien, all snarling and spitting and full of vitriol he didn’t know was possible. There was a single pause, then they came charging at him, chanting in the language that none of them could understand, holding their swords and guns and spears over their heads with the intent to bring them down on his head. So, Peter did the first thing that came to mind - he ran.

Meredith and Mantis screamed after him until their throats were raw, watching helplessly as the soldiers tore past them in pursuit of Peter, but he wasn’t about to stop, not if his powers would distract them, would keep them from hurting his people. He ran and ran and ran like everyone’s lives depended on it - and in a way, it did - occasionally turning to blast them again, sending them crashing to the ground. It was only when the last of them had finally fallen that Peter realized how far he had gotten and what he had done.

“Mom?” he said rather stupidly, coming to a halt. He knew she couldn’t hear him, not when he was miles away. He turned, then turned again, trying to figure out where he’d come from, but he had zig-zagged all over the fields, through the trees, remembered his feet hitting the water of a shallow stream at some point, and - oh, he thought to himself, unable to find his voice again - I’m lost.

His belly twisted itself in knots the second he realized it, and he clutched at his rapidly beating heart, willing himself to stay calm. He had never been lost before; though the Ark was a behemoth of a ship, there were always people nearby who could help him find his way, no matter how far he wandered off in search of adventure. This was no adventure, this was a nightmare, one in which his vision was getting swallowed up in the darkness, where everything looked the same, but nothing was familiar.

Then, Peter heard a rustling in the nearby bushes. He spooked instantly, leaping backward with a soft yelp. “Don’t be a baby, Peter,” he chastised himself.

He suddenly felt something wrap around his ankles and yank him right to the ground, hitting his chin hard against the dirt. Peter shouted in pain, feeling blood pool in his mouth and nose from the impact, but he was quickly silenced by someone’s hand over his mouth and the weight of someone pinning him down. “Shof op, kepon.”

Peter lifted his head, terrified it was the last thing he was ever going to see, and nearly fainted in shock (and blood loss) at what he did see - a young girl, about his age, baring her teeth at him, blood streaked across her face. He could barely make out any other distinguishing features in the darkness, but he could see the ferocity in her eyes, the kind he’d never seen in someone so young. “You’re a kid,” he said breathlessly.

“Yu...laik goufa.” She looked just as confused as he did, like she was only just seeing him for the first time. She eased her knee away from his stomach (he could feel the bruise already beginning to blossom across his torso) and withdrew the blade she had pressed to his throat, though she still had a tight grip on the advanced-looking device she’d used to bind his ankles. “Chon yu biliak?”

He blinked. “How come my translator don’t work on...whatever it is you’re sayin’?”

She eyed him warily as she got to her feet. “Hakom yu kamp roun hir? Yu hir frag ai op?”

“Look, I don’t know - I don’t - please, you gotta let me go. We just got attacked by - I dunno, prob’ly your people - and I ran and I got lost, and I...I don’t know where I am or what’s goin’ on or - ” His breath rattled between his teeth. Feeling rather silly, Peter held out his hand, scraped raw, blood running down the lengths of his fingers. The girl looked at it with wide eyes, horrified to see what she’d done. “My name is Peter.”

“Ai laik Gamora kom Trikru.” With a soft shnk, his bindings were released, retreating back into the small device she was holding before he could blink. She knelt beside him, pushing her dark hair out of her eyes so they could properly get a look at one another. Her face was softer now, almost regretful. “My name is Gamora. You’re one of the Sky People.”

“Is that what your people are callin’ us?” Peter to struggled to sit up; it felt like every part of his body was aching from the sheer force of her attack, as if a fully-grown adult had attacked him, rather than a girl who had to be at least three inches shorter. “So you do speak...something my translator knows.”

“Trigedasleng is for my enemies, my language is for my people,” she said neatly, almost like she was reciting it from something. “Other children are not my enemy.”

“So what were you gonna do if I was an adult?” Peter asked, incredulous, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

Gamora’s eyes couldn’t meet his. “That isn’t for you to know.”

“You coulda killed me! I think I oughta know,” he protested.

Sighing, she sat back on her haunches and began re-pocketing all her weapons; he was alarmed at the number of pouches and loops she had on her belt. “I would take you back to my leader as my kepon - captive. But I didn’t mean to come this way. I was near the Azgeda border, on my way home, when I saw light - your light. So I wanted to find you. I didn’t know you were a child.”

“So, what, your people don’t kill kids? ‘Cos it looked like they were doin’ it just fine back there,” Peter snapped. He then inwardly cowered for doing so; she seemed merciful so far, like she didn’t want to do what she was doing, but he had a feeling that one wrong word had the potential to change her mind.

“We aren’t the same. I can’t hurt you like I hurt the others.”

“Others?” he echoed.

“Never mind.” She got to her feet abruptly, turning her back to him, the last of her knives back on her belt. “Go home, Petr kom Skaikru. I’m letting you live.”

“Wait.” Peter reached out, clasped her wrist to hold her there. His blood smeared across her skin; she shuddered. “I don’t...I don’t know how to get home. I dunno where I am or how far or...or nothin’.”

She glanced at him over her shoulder. “My people are looking for me.”

“Yeah? So are mine,” Peter retorted, smiling slightly when her expression faltered. “Lots of people died trying to get here. More people are dyin’ right now. I don’t want my mom and sister to think I died, too.”

“You...have a sister.” Gamora turned to fully face him, her expression unreadable. “Fine. I’ll take you back.”

He bit back the urge to draw her into a grateful hug, instead electing to let out a huge sigh of relief. “Thank you, um, Gamora kom...kom...I dunno what you said.”

She rolled her eyes, gesturing for him to fall into step beside her. “Ai laik Gamora kom Trikru, ‘I am Gamora of the Forest Clan’. If you and your people are going to stay, they need to learn Trig. Some factions won’t speak anything else.”

“Then teach me,” he said far too eagerly for someone who she’d tried to kill just ten minutes ago. “You said I was - ”

“Peter kom Skaikru - ‘of the Sky People’,” she replied with a huff; she wasn’t sure if she’d ever been so annoyed with someone’s existence so quickly. “Why would I? We’re never going to see each other again.”

“I guess not,” Peter mumbled. “I mean, with your people tryna kill my people and everything.”

“Wamplei ste komba raun,” Gamora said, her voice low.

“What does that - whoa - ”

Peter nearly tripped over something, unable to see much further than a few feet in the darkness. Bile burned in his throat when he realized it was a body, a body he’d put there. A man in armor, tall and lanky and long-limbed. He reminded Peter too much of Kraglin. Gamora stared down at it, unseeing, barely flinching when the man twitched, gasping for breath, his cold-gray eyes flying open.

“Heda?” he asked, his voice thin. “Heda, beja…”

“Okay,” she said, swallowing. She knelt beside him and motioned for Peter to join her. He did so automatically, too numb to realize what his body was even doing, the metallic smell of blood overwhelming all of his senses. “Leidon...reshwe.”

It took Peter too long to realize what was happening as she drew her blade from her belt, then drove it into the man’s chest. His eyelids fluttered closed, an eerily serene smile on his face, and he drew his last breath. Peter let out a gasp of horror, turned to dry-heave over the grass, but nothing came up. “How could you - ”

“I said we aren’t the same.” When he looked back at her, her eyes were wet as she calmly cleaned her blade with a small cloth.

“I killed that guy,” Peter breathed. “All those soldiers, I - they’re dead, and I - ”

“No. I killed him,” Gamora said. Her breath shook. “He asked me to.”

“Do you just go around killin’ people ‘cos they ask?!” Peter’s voice was getting more hysterical with every word.

“Your people are that way.” She pointed in a direction he could barely follow in his haze. “I think I should go now.”

“Don’t.” Gamora hesitated, furrowing her brow at him. “I don’t know what messed-up stuff has been goin’ on here for the last hundred years, but I do know I’m never gonna get back without you. Then I really am gonna end up...dead.”

Wordlessly, she nodded, got to her feet, and began walking again. He followed her, fists clenched at his side. He’d seen more death than he ever wanted to in a thousand lifetimes, created it, even, but he knew he had no choice. Maybe it was better that they never see each other again, that she was some horrifying child assassin that he thought only existed in the books and films that his father told him he could never look at. For now, though, she was all he had.

The rest of the journey back to the Arkadian camp was in silence. Peter kept his chin high, knowing that if he looked down, he’d see more bodies, only these ones didn’t seem to have people who were going to come for them, not like Yondu and his guardsmen for the Arkadians. Gamora, on the other hand, seemed resigned, the confidence in her stride and her posture from their initial encounter entirely gone. He tried not to pay attention to the sharp inhaling noises she made every minute or so; he knew the sound of someone trying not to cry when he heard it. It gave him hope, at least, that she wasn’t entirely soulless. He supposed he should’ve already known that, given her mercy from earlier, but it was hard to erase the vivid image of her blade in the man’s chest, glinting tauntingly in the moonlight.

“We’re here,” Gamora said hollowly after fifteen minutes of uncomfortable quiet. Peter could smell smoke but saw no flames, heard the idle chatter that told him the fight was over. He heard his father’s voice, booming over all the rest. From his tone, he sounded angry but not stricken, and Peter could only hope that meant the rest of his family were alright.

“Thanks,” he said, his voice raw from disuse. He’d never gone so long without talking before. “Hey, uh, are you gonna be okay? About the...thing?”

She turned to look at him; her nose and ears were tinged pink, and it wasn’t from the cold. “He asked me to...didn’t he?”

I don’t know. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, he would’ve been hurtin’ for way longer if you hadn’t...yeah, he did.” She squeezed her eyes shut, and a single tear rolled down her cheek. Her fingers flexed involuntarily, a motion that Peter had only seen Yondu and his other guardsmen do. He stepped closer, though he didn’t dare to reach out. Her sorrow felt contagious. “Sorry ‘bout getting all mad at you for nothin’. I guess I just...when we left for Earth, we didn’t think it was gonna be like this.”

“What did you think it was going to be?” She dragged the heel of her palm across her face in a feeble attempt to dry her eyes.

“My mom’s from here. She had all these stories about growin’ up in a place called Missouri. She went to church with her parents every Sunday at a place called St. Peter’s. That’s where she got my name,” he added.

“It sounds like it was really nice here...once,” Gamora said, a tiny smile beginning to form. “You should go to your mother now.”

“What about you?” Peter asked, stepping even closer; they were nearly toe-to-toe now. “Do you live around here?”

“You really want me to teach you Trigedasleng,” she drawled, almost like she was teasing him. “Even after - ”

“I mean it, it’s okay. Or I guess, it’s not okay, but...I dunno what I’m saying, my head hurts,” he admitted with a weary laugh. He was getting increasingly delirious with every word that left his mouth. Something about this particular time of night - or day, who knew - made everything feel hazy, dreamlike, uncertain. “So...maybe I’ll see you around.”

Gamora looked at him again, really looked at him this time - he was a skinny kid, the kind that Thanos recruited for thievery; he had inquisitive eyes and a curious mouth. His hair was a little long and his words were a little bit disjointed, but against her instincts, she found herself smiling a little bit wider. “Maybe.”

That seemed good enough for him, and he grinned in a charmingly lopsided way before turning to return to his people. The closer he got, the more his heart drummed in his chest, thrilled at the sound of his mother’s strong accent and his sister’s soft lilt. Peter turned to wave at Gamora, still stood atop the small slope, and called, “Thanks again, Gamora kom Trikru!” With a quiet laugh, her eyes damp with mirth, she waved back.

a/n: I love writing Peter and Gamora meeting for the first time in pretty much all of my AUs so that last sequence was so fun to finally get to! Also, I got a comment on the prologue from the lovely star_munches about being unfamiliar with The 100, so to give you some visuals, here is an idea of what Thanos's settlement would look like (with Sanctuary, his ship from Infinity War instead of the show's Ark), and here is an approximation of how Gamora and Nebula would be dressing at this particular age.

I'm not quite sure when chapter two will be posted, as I have a lot of due dates stacked up next month, but hopefully before the end of March! Thank you so much for reading, likes and reblogs would be much appreciated, and I hope you enjoyed :)

Trigedasleng translations: frag emo op - kill them all shof op, kepon - shut up, hostage / yu laik goufa - you're a child chon yu biliak? - who are you? / hakom yu kamp roun hir? yu hir frag ai op? - why are you here? are you here to kill me? wamplei ste komba raun - death is coming / heda, beja - Commander, please / leidon, reshwe - goodbye, rest in peace

#starmora #starmora fic #peter x gamora #gamora x peter #gotg fic #myfic #myfic: across the universe #marvel #have a good friday/weekend y'all!!

[furieswake]

The things we hide in plain sight

AO3

Tags: Domestic Violence, Child Abuse, PTSD Summary: Jonghyun is a creative writing professor, who deals with his childhood of domestic violence and child abuse as an adult. 

Dedicated to all the lost kids in a seemingly endless black night. This one is for you. For the one kid that needs to read the words “abuse is about the abuser and not the victim,” whether you read this today or find this five years from now, I hope you read these words and know that you did absolutely nothing to deserve this.

Do not give up hope. Life can get better.

This story deals with an uncomfortable truth that we as a society don’t often know how to discuss, that truth being that not all abuse is reported and not all victims leave their abusers.

This is the single most important piece to me that I’ve written. If it helps or resonates with even one person, it is worth it to have written it.

I want to make it very clear that this is a work of fiction about a fictional character, but the events described, well… unfortunately, I did not make them up.

Jonghyun teaches a creative writing class at a small liberal arts college in the city. “I want to show you a photo.” He begins, holding a photo the size of a sheet of paper. It is of a small house in a city suburb. It is daytime, the sun shines onto the house, the sky is clear and bright blue. “What does this look like to you?” he asks. “It’s a house.” a student says. “It’s a home.” another student says “Ah, but how do you know it’s a home, if you don’t know who lives there?” “There are toys right there.” the second student points out the scattering of toys in the grass in the foreground. “Very good. Houses are just places, homes carry emotion. The evidence of toys indicates that at least one child and one adult live in this house. So, yes, you are correct, this is a home. The family that lived in this house in actuality, consisted of two parents, a mom and a dad, and two children, a little boy and a little girl.

The next picture Jonghyun shows is a photo of a family beach day. The picture is old, the color and graininess dating the photo by at least two decades. Two small children wear wide brim hats. They build a sandcastle in the forefront of the photo, their faces are not visible. Two adults sit behind them on beach chairs, wearing sunglasses. They smile, caught in mid-action by an unknown photographer. The image is intimate, it’s candid. “Can you tell me anything about the people who live in this house from this photo? Do they care about each other? Do they love each other? Are they happy?” “No, it’s just a picture, but… they look happy.” someone says. “They do.” Jonghyun agrees, nodding his head.

“What if i show you this picture?” Jonghyun shows a different picture. It is of the same house, but this time at night. A police car is parked in front, the red and blue lights of the police car casting eerie shadows on the front of the house. Several people murmur various answers, shifting in their chairs. Jonghyun nods at their murmured answers, noting their reactions. “Yes, you would think of secrets. That this house had secrets. What kind of secrets do you think this house has?”

Jonghyun continues to hold the photo up. “What if I told you that inside this house, rules were wound so tightly that deviation by even one centimeter meant the little boy and little girl were beaten. Everything and I mean everything has a proper place. There is a right way to do absolutely anything and everything. There is even a right way to throw away trash.” Jonghyun lips quirk into a wry smile. He knows how ridiculous this must sound to an outsider, but if they only knew. “What if I told you that the Persian rug in the front entryway is where the children kneeled for hours and hours as punishment while they sobbed, their eyes red and puffy, their legs going numb and the chicken coop in the backyard…” the room goes deathly silent. “—no longer housed chickens but is used to punish disobedient children.”

“Now, I want to show you the first two photos again. After seeing the third photo, how do you perceive the photos of the house and family? “They’re… the same.” students answer hesitantly. “Exactly.” Jonghyun nods. “Nothing has changed outwardly in the photos. A photo is a snapshot in time, one second that gets immortalized forever and appearances… can be misleading or downright wrong.”

Jonghyun turns away from the class to put the photos down and he slips into a memory without meaning to. He’s six and he and his sister have been punished for god-knows-what. They’ve been locked in the chicken coops outside, relics from the previous occupants. Small wood framed structures, 2 meter cubes, with chain link fencing for walls and hard plastic roof panels nailed to the tops of the wooden frames. It’s a Sunday afternoon and the air in the neighborhood is unusually quiet. Since he’s smaller than his sister, he is put in the one without a lock, the warped wooden door staying shut because it is wedged hard against the uneven earth below.

The children cry and plead, yelling through the chain link fence, but it does no good, they get left alone outside. The air is silent. Sodam sits down, turning herself away from Jonghyun, she blames him. It is his fault they fought and that’s why they got in trouble. Jonghyun feels a heaviness in his chest. He wants to do something about it… anything.

He pushes against the door, throwing his shoulder against it, again and again. “Stop, Jonghyun! You’re so stupid! It’s not going to work.” she says, looking at him through the chain link fence that separates them. Jonghyun ignores her and doesn’t stop, he keeps working at the door a long time with the weight of his small body and it eventually gives. He’s free!

Sodam is surprised and once outside, Jonghyun tries to reach the latch on her door, but it is just out of his reach. He keeps trying, but he can’t get it, even when he stands on his tippy-toes. He grows increasingly frustrated and then he has to make a choice… so he turns around and the look on Sodam’s face as she realizes, will stay with Jonghyun, etched on his mind as a permanent scar.

But Jonghyun is only six and he doesn’t have many choices on where to go. He and Sodam are still locked in the backyard. Parents are supposed to keep you safe, right?

“Umma, please, I’ll be good! We’ll be good!” Jonghyun corrects himself. “I promise. Please let us back in, Umma!!” Jonghyun begs, pounding on the back door, tears streaming down his face.

His escape is short-lived. He is brought back to the same chicken coop, kicking and screaming a few minutes later. This time a cinder block is placed on the outside of the wedged door.

Sodam snaps at him from her spot on the ground, her face twisted into a snarl, her fingers playing with a leaf, “I knew it wouldn’t work.” Jonghyun sits on the ground, he feels so very alone. He wraps his arms around his knees and cries.

Jonghyun swallows as he is brought back to the present. He looks back up to the class, his voice thicker than a second before. “What if I told you that the last photo never happened, the police never came and the secrets of this house remain hidden forever. My assignment to you is write a story about the things we hide in plain sight.”

Jonghyun thinks back to all the times he screamed for help when he was younger, for anybody to call the Police, but not even once did the Police ever come. Not one singular time.

“If you tell anyone, Jonghyun, Umma will go to jail too. Hasn’t she hit you as well? You and Sodam will be put in foster care and you will never see each other again. Is that what you want, Jonghyun? To be all by yourself in life. Maybe, the Police will put you in jail. You’re a terrible child, Jonghyun. You have a rotten black soul. What did we ever do to deserve a demon like you as a child? If it weren’t for you, we would be happy.” These seeds of doubt will breed confusion and conflict in Jonghyun. So, not once after the violence has ended will he ever admit to anyone the extent of what goes on inside their house.

Most people think domestic violence and child abuse is clear-cut, that there is a definitive abuser and there are definite innocents, but that’s not true. Domestic violence taints all the people involved and the innocence of all parties is lost. Jonghyun has raised his own hands against his father; his mother, who he loves more than life has hit and abused him and Sodam; and he has lashed out at both his mother and sister in a fit of anger. No one’s hands are clean.

Would the police take him away? What about his mother? What will happen to him and Sodam?

The class breaks for a brainstorming session and Jonghyun walks around to see if anyone needs help.

“Professor, are the people in your story real?” a student asks a few minutes in, still preoccupied with Jonghyun’s story. “Do you wish they weren’t? Would it make it easier if they weren’t real?” Jonghyun asks. More students go quiet to listen. Jonghyun notices and looks up to address the entire class. “Life is uncomfortable. People are complicated. For every story like this one, there is another story that is much worse.“ “The people in this story are real. It’s autobiographical. The little boy is me and the little girl is my older sister.” Jonghyun admits. “Don’t look so sad!” Jonghyun laughs, trying to shake off the class’ serious expressions. Even worst than the looks of disbelief can be the looks of pity. “It is in the past and I’m here now. No matter what pain you go through, life can get better, you can grow up and leave a broken home, you can leave a bad relationship. Victims of abuse shouldn’t ever feel shame, it was never about them. Abuse is about the abuser and it is them who should feel shame. There is never anything you can change about yourself to stop someone who abuses you. You can’t be more perfect, more quiet, more docile, more anything. I will repeat it again, abuse is about the abuser and not the victim.”

Jonghyun pauses. “Did I ever tell you why I love writing? When I was younger, I loved to read. I would spend hours every day reading, escaping reality, losing myself in the pages of books. In books, you can be anything, you can have any adventure, live any life you want. And in them, I was safe, I was loved, and no harm ever came to me. So, books became my solace, my haven even. It was entirely predictable what would happen in the books I read: the monster would be slayed, the bad guy defeated, and the good guy would always win. What’s not to love? But real life is not fiction and it’s definitely not a fairytale.”

Jonghyun blinks and he’s no longer in the classroom, it’s the middle of the night and he can feel himself jerk awake in the room he shares with Sodam from a loud noise. Their mother sits on the floor holding the doorknob, the night light casting a shadow on her haggard face. “Umma, what are you—” Jonghyun starts to ask. The doorknob rattles, someone tries hard to get in, but the door is locked. The person begins pounding on the door on the other side. “GET OUT HERE, you fucking whore or I will kill you all!” The pounding grows louder as the person begins kicking at the door. Jonghyun sits up, he is paralyzed, he can barely breathe. After some time, the kicking slows, eventually stopping. A man’s voice can be heard. “If you stay in there, I will burn this entire house down and we all can die. Is that what you want?! I will do it, I promise you!” A final kick is placed on the door, before steps are heard walking away.

After a few minutes, their mother motions for the children to come closer. “Jonghyun, Sodam, no matter what happens, stay inside the room, okay? Promise me.” She knows the threat is a lie, but the quickest way to end this without further escalation and risk to Jonghun and Sodam is to comply. She gets up and moves to unlock the bedroom door. “No, Umma!” “No, please!! Please don’t go outside.” Tiny arms wrap around her torso, their bodies moving in front of her to block the door. Their mother has a determined grim look on her face as she pushes them aside. “Promise me.” They shake their heads. Their mother holds Sodam by the shoulders, making her face her. “Sodam, PROMISE me.” Sodams cries, a look of abject pain on her face, but she nods.

Jonghyun does not remember his mother opening the door, but moments after she’s on the other side, a large hand appears out of nowhere, yanking his mother roughly by her hair. “Wow, you really are as DUMB as a cow! I would be doing the world a service if I killed you, so no one has to deal with your STUPIDITY!” the man roars. Their mother is pulled from sight against her own will and Jonghyun starts to bolt to his mother’s aid, but Sodam blocks him, her arm gripping the edge of the door tightly, preventing him from leaving. Jonghyun ends up hitting her. “He’s hurting her!!! Let me go! Sodam, please, let me go!” Jonghyun yells. Sodam grabs his wrist, gripping so tightly that marks appear from her nails, pushing him back inside, her face firm. “NO, Jonghyun!! We promised Umma.” Sodam manages to close the door and locks it as Jonghyun continues to fight her. Jonghyun becomes unhinged as she tries to restrain him. “I hate you, Sodam! I hate you so much!” Jonghyun cries, struggling in her arms. Even though Jonghyun hits her, Sodam’s facial expression does not change, she just is.

Sodam sits them on the floor near the door, flat against the wall. She doesn’t tell him that she thinks this is the safest place for them. If the door gives later, it might buy them enough seconds to get away. They hear shouting and things breaking a few rooms away.

The shouting eventually stops, Jonghyun is exhausted, he fights to keep his eyes open, but he ends up falling asleep in Sodam’s lap. She stays awake… in case, just in case. She wakes him up a little later when she can feel assured that nothing more will happen this night. The children lie down in their beds for a few hours before school, falling into a restless sleep. The next day, Jonghyun can barely keep his eyes open in school and his head hurts from crying so much the night before, but he doesn’t tell anyone why, even when his teacher scolds him.

Over the next years, this same scene will play itself out over and over again. But on the outside, Jonghyun and Sodam are model students, they have a model family. Both children have absolutely perfect attendance in school, never missing a single day, and they do well in their classes. They have plenty of friends, they laugh and they smile often. More happy family photos will get added to the living room wall of occassions, weddings, birthdays, school plays, etc. Photos of happy faces with happy smiles. It is easy during the good times to be lulled into a false sense of security, maybe people can change, maybe it’s different this time, but these periods do not last. The intervals between episodes vary, but ultimately this cycle will repeat itself.

The only difference is that Jonghyun and Sodam get bigger and they get older. They lose the protection their age and size had granted them and they become unwilling participants in the violence.

It is completely arbitrary what will set their father off, Jonghyun will open a cereal box “incorrectly,” their aunt will mention a past suitor of their mother’s, or Sodam will drag her feet while doing her chores.

Small variances to this nightmarish scene will occur, but the end result is always the same. There will be pain, there will be tears, and there will be screaming.

Sometimes, their mother doesn’t leave of her own accord and the lock or door eventually gives way; sometimes, Jonghyun or Sodam run outside and throw themselves in the middle, only to have their father’s wrath turned on them; sometimes, their mother will fight back and one of the children will referee, one hand at their father’s throat, while they block their mother from coming closer.

Sometimes, the abuse is directed solely on one of the children. Jonghyun is forced to stay up all night kneeling for some small indiscretion on the Persian rug in the living room; sometimes, he’s explained to by his father why his father had to hit him. It is the responsibility of parents to teach their children right from wrong, so can’t Jonghyun understand why he deserved to be hit? He was bad and his father is good.

Sometimes, Sodam is the one in trouble and Jonghyun is secretly relieved that it is not him. And sometimes, his father has coaxed Jonghyun into giving her up for some lie she’s told or some mistake she’s made. “Why did you tell, Jonghyun?!” Sodam cries as she looks at him. “I-I…” Jonghyun has no answer. The shame and confusion that sets in is the result of another power maneuvering of their father’s and the smirk on his father’s face, the true sign of evil on Earth.

Jonghyun and Sodam continue to grow up in this broken house. They are used as both punching bags and pawns, brainwashed and pitted against their only allies, manipulated and programmed into thinking that they deserve to be hit.

In the present, Jonghyun blinks his eyes a few times and shakes his head before he continues his talk. The flashbacks have been occurring more frequently and he has a harder time pulling himself back out every time. “Do you know what’s complicated about family? You don’t get to decide the family you are born into or raised in. You have no control in the matter. Your parents are supposed to be your protectors and your home a safe place, but what happens when your protector and tormentor are one and the same? What if you dread going home?”

“I was taught to never ‘air dirty laundry in public.’ How many of you have been taught the same?” Jonghyun raises his eyebrows in a silent question to the class. "Shame can paralyze you, prevent you from seeking help when you definitely should, but who am I to judge, I didn’t. The abuse I faced existed in some kind of gray area in my mind. Sure, I experienced physical violence, I’ve been strangled and held down by a grown man nearly twice my size, but I never had any marks on my body, my abuser was careful. The emotional abuse was much worse and in my case much harder to deal with.” Jonghyun gives a dry laugh, which is jarring and inappropriate to most of the class, but comedy has been a longtime coping mechanism of his, so Jonghyun ignores their expressions.

He clears his throat and continues, “Growing up is hard enough, being a teenager is so difficult, you feel everything so intensely. I know what it feels like to want to hurt someone and in a fit of rage, want to kill someone. I have felt it myself. Many times, I would stand there as my abuser screamed in my face and think there are only two ways this nightmare will end, he will kill me or I will kill him. At the time, there was nothing anyone could say to convince me of otherwise. And when the opportunity came, I found I didn’t have it in me to hurt someone who was defenseless. My heart is too soft, I could not hurt him like he had hurt me. There is a completely different level of viciousness that must exist in a person that would continue to hit someone on the ground, defenseless, who begs you to stop. And I am grateful that of all the things I’ve inherited, that viciousness is not one of them.”

Jonghyun pauses. “From hearing my story, you would think the natural outcome is my mother would have left my father and I would never speak to him again. But my parents are still married and I still speak to my father. Life is more complicated than anyone will ever tell you.”

Now as adults, Jonghyun and Sodam deal with their past completely differently. Jonghyun feels too much. He is still haunted at night, his insomnia a direct manifestation of when it was not safe to close his eyes at night. He imagines phantom hands that strangle him and a shadowy figure that kneels on his chest, pressing him into the ground. He tosses and turns, haunted by memories, sharp pain of what he imagines his own sins to be. How could he have better protected the people he loves? How had his past honesty or actions hurt them? He will remember the look on Sodam’s face as his six-year-old self made the choice to leave her behind. He will remember other instances that bring him shame and his body will jerk as he slips into those memories.

Is he forgiven because he was a child under extreme duress? Yes. But do those memories still haunt him when he close his eyes at night all the same? Yes.

Sodam on the complete other side of the spectrum, feels too little. She’s repressed so many memories of their childhood that Jonghyun sometimes feels he’s the only one who experienced it. Attempts to discuss anything with his sister result in the sharpest rebuke from her. He looks at her now and can only see the impenetrable fortress around her heart where she keeps those feelings and memories locked away. She has done such a good job of suppressing all the things that hurt her that she no longer remembers where she’s hidden the key.

Her refusal to discuss their shared pain makes it unbearably lonely for Jonghyun, but he doesn’t push it. He doesn’t want to make her cry anymore than she already has. He was incredibly lucky to have a sibling to share his pain with and he knows that there are children who have no one, no allies they can talk to. He was so lucky that he wasn’t alone and for that, he is thankful.

The clock chimes outside, indicating the end of the hour already. Jonghyun looks up in a daze, taking a deep breath. “Class is dismissed.” “Thank you, Professor.” Students murmur.

His lecture has affected each one of them differently. The students who had happy childhoods observe his words as if they are watching a film. They try to relate, but can’t get close enough to the subject. The students who feel empathy, they hurt for his past pain, the lost of innocence for the children he and Sodam were. Then there are the students who think he is lying. There is no way it could have been this bad and never reported, so therefore Jonghyun must be exaggerating. Jonghyun has experienced these type of people before and knows that nothing will change their minds. He doesn’t need to bare the most vulnerable parts of him, outline every occurrence in detail, in order for people to understand, he shouldn’t have to. He knows the truth and people can either believe him or not.

And then there are other students, they shut down, neutral faces plastered on their faces like masks as to not give themselves away, their minds running at 200 kilometers an hour. His words could be theirs. They too have been raised to never “air their dirty laundry in public.” Domestic violence, child abuse, addiction, infidelity, broken homes, they understand secrets very well.

“I want your stories on my desk in two weeks please.” Jonghyun says as the students start to leave the classroom.

Jonghun’s pain is his past and it has been years since he’s left that broken house. He has made a sort of peace with it, but he admits, talking about it, makes the monster hiding in the closet come back out.

He finishes packing up his computer bag and leaves the classroom to meet Kibum for lunch. Kibum. Kibum is the essence of light and he does not judge. He holds him when he cries at night, reliving old pain, and stays up with him when he can’t sleep at night. “Abuse is about the abuser and not the victim,” he continues to repeat, taking deep breaths as he walks outside into the sunshine.

Jonghyun is unaware, but in a few days, he will have a debilitating panic attack. He will end up in his doctor’s office at 26 years old, hyperventilating and sobbing uncontrollably.

In between sobs, the doctor can only make out the words, “She… t-told me… to be q-quiet.” Jonghyun will remember his mother hushing him after a particularly bad beating and this memory will push him over the edge he has tightroped his entire life. More traumatic incidents will come rushing out of his mouth to his doctor as he continues to gasp and sob, like a dam that bursts after being under immense strain for a very long time.

Jonghyun will be diagnosed with PTSD and a generalized anxiety disorder. He cannot recall his childhood trauma without physically reliving it. He will be prescribed a host of medications to help him with his anxiety, depression, and insomnia. He will be referred to a therapist, so he can finally get help dealing with the traumas of his childhood and it does.

It helps a lot.

And now, I will tell you a secret of my own… where does Jonghyun end and where do I begin?

So many times, in the darkest of nights, I would cry myself to sleep, feel such utter despair, and truly thought that I would not live to adulthood… but I did and you can too. In a different, better world, this wouldn’t be happening to you at all, but we cannot control what family we are born into or raised in. But your abuse doesn’t have to define you, you can heal after being broken.

This story turned out to be way more grim and angstier than I had anticipated, but I hope to convey to a message of hope regardless. Life can get better and so can you.

And for every child or adult who feels so alone, I see you and you are not alone. If you want to talk or a shoulder to cry on, I’m listening.

#jonghyun #shinee fanfic

[lordwaffleking]

Stop Holding My Hand And Let Me Masturbate Already

Official review of Pokemon Sun and Moon via Lord Waffle King Dot Com.

www.lordwaffleking.com is still currently down and under construction so I’m just gonna post this here for now.

The Pokemon series has come quite a long way. From the very first games for the Game Boy, all through the many sequels and spin-offs, the world of Pokemon has grown exponentially and touched many, many lives. I’ve been a huge Pokemon guy ever since the first games, and whenever a new one is announced, I’m always nothing less than enthralled.

They’ve been with me through it all, man. When I was learning to read? There’s a lot of reading in Pokemon. When I was learning to make friends? Pokemon was what brought us together. And when I started touching myself for the first time? Yeah, I busted some fat nuts on Pokemon.

And then Pokemon Sun and Moon came along. I followed the news all the way up until release. I reported it all, right here on WWW Dot Lord Waffle King Dot Com. The designs looked great. The game looked perfect. I was sure this would be the greatest one yet, beating out my previous favorite that was Black and White.

I was very, very wrong.

Pokemon Sun and Moon have to be the greatest train-wreck of a Pokemon game I’ve ever played. To simply call the game “bad” wouldn’t quite explain the situation well enough, but I wouldn’t hesitate to call it my least favorite Pokemon game. And it really breaks my heart.

In my time playing Sun and Moon, I lost interest several times. Something that’s never happened to me before in a Pokemon game. I had to force myself to complete it, and only because I wanted to know who all the characters were so I could jerk off to hentai of them.

I mean, you can’t just whack it to a girl you don’t know. What kind of animal does that? Someone that doesn’t respect women, that’s who.

Pokemon games have slowly become more and more bloated over the years, but Sun and Moon are the first to ever truly be weighed down by it. Sun and Moon doesn’t know who it’s catering to anymore, and in an attempt to please everyone, they’ve really only succeeded in providing a clusterfuck of things that really don’t mesh well.

It’s an incredibly ambitious game, don’t get me wrong. Graphics are great for a 3DS game, and the presentation is phenomenal. A great soundtrack like always, and the Alola region has to be one of the best out of all of them. The Pokemon designs are fucking fantastic, all of the characters are likeable and well-developed. And surprisingly, even the story is great. The writing potentially rivals Black and White, actually. There’s real character development and everything. Not just a fat kid that likes to dance. In that sense, I’d actually rank it as one of the best Pokemon games. Possibly the best.

And yet the promising plot and world-building is held back by what I can only assume was corporate meddling on the Pokemon Company’s part to try and make the game appeal to the little shits sucking their glue through a straw because their negligent moms let them play Pokemon Go in the fucking street. Maybe they felt like they had to compete with Yo-Kai Watch and try to make the whole game into one long cartoon episode.

Fuck that shit though.

I wanted to explore Alola. I wanted to catch Pokemon and immerse myself in this world. I wanted a grand adventure. What I got was a special ed class Easter egg hunt. Getting lead by the hand to all the conspicuously placed Easter eggs, and having them all pointed out to me and placed gently in my basket by an adult so that I wouldn’t accidentally shove them up my ass by mistake.

It’s like going to Disney World with gassy Uncle Boris. No, don’t go on ride. Uncle Boris no feel good. Uncle Boris eat too much asparagus. Please, keep walking. We walk around park and go home.

Elsa and Snow White could be flashing their tits and beckoning you to join them on the fucking tea cup ride, but no. Keep walking. Look, there’s Mickey Mouse over there. No, you can’t go say hi to him. That’s not a part of the fucking tour. Keep walking.

The entire first half of the game feels like one long tutorial. It doesn’t at any point let you go to explore on your own time. You go where it tells you, you explore the way it wants you to. Read all of the dialogue, do the battles it presents to you, watch all of the completely unnecessary cutscenes. Why so many cutscenes? Pokemon doesn’t need that many. The cutscenes are done very well, yes. They help to build up the characters and make the emotional impact they deliver in the end that much more powerful. Sure. But the same was accomplished with N in Pokemon Black and White, and it didn’t require stagnating the whole fucking game.

When the action does open up, during that entire first half of the game that spans two of the region’s four islands, it hardly even makes a difference. The islands are designed in such a linear fashion, there really isn’t even a need for the map that takes up the bottom half of the screen. It’s a straight, Point A to Point B map. There are no “dungeons” in the same sense that older Pokemon games have had. Caves, forests, and other places to explore are kept to a minimum, and when there are some, they’re usually presented as part of the game’s “trials” which replace the gyms from older games.

Which would be fine, if it didn’t hold your hand through trials just in case battling a singular wild “Totem” Pokemon with slightly higher stats than usual was too hard for you. It tells you very clearly where to go, what to do, and how to do it. The mini-map on the bottom screen, which is an unfortunate waste of UI space, always has a very clear marker point of where you’re supposed to go. It’ll even offer you little hints. Say, didn’t the professor go that way, you know, where the little red flag is? Gosh, there might be something important there. Let’s go there.

There’s genuinely a point in the game where the map will present a goal for you, and then instead of just letting you go there, you’ll walk out and find that an NPC was out there waiting for you with a brief cutscene telling you which way the mini-map, that’s always on the bottom pointing you in the right direction, wanted you to go. And then it’ll proceed to lead you there, having you follow the NPC all the way to the trial site. You know, in case a giant red flag on the bottom screen was too hard to find.

And that’s after the fucking two island-long tutorial.

This was a big step in making the game autism-proof, I get it. It was to make sure that the generation of kids raised on Angry Birds and fidget spinners could play the game just like everyone else. But there’s no way to turn it the fuck off? I wanna play Pokemon games too. Come on.

Pretty much every older DS Pokemon game used the bottom screen in a better way. Even Pokemon Ranger. I’d rather draw fucking circles than put up with this bullshit. Sure, make the completely redundant mini-map the default. But there’s so much more you could’ve put there.

The incredibly promising Poke Pelago, a touch screen-based way to interact with your Pokemon, is locked away in menus when it could’ve easily been at your fingertips at all times. And on top of that, every time you want to use it, you need to watch an unskippable cutscene of your trainer traveling to the fucking Poke Pelago just to use it.

The touch controls are also fairly sloppy with Poke Pelago, something surprising considering Pokemon’s years of slowly perfecting its touch screen UI. There’s so many tiny sprites on the bottom screen moving around, it’s easy to accidentally tap the wrong thing when you’re just trying to collect some God damned beans.

So many strides have been made in eliminating annoying quirks that the games have had for ages, and yet all the tiny steps towards progress are fucked up by glaring bad design choices.

It’s really sad, it really is. It’s like a Miss America pageant contestant in Pokemon game form. It’s really fucking gorgeous. I’d fuck it. And the script, clearly, had had a lot of work put into it. But in the end, it’s just really fucking stupid. If you asked Sun and Moon what it meant to them to be a Pokemon game, they would ramble on incoherently about Pokemon games bringing people together for ten minutes, and then point to an Alolan form Pokemon and say “Kanto, remember?” You can get your favorite Pokemon from the first games, but now they have a much more exotic penis.

And yet even with the shitty execution, I still felt the emotional climax at the end of the game. Which made it so hard for me to accept how much I hated it. By the end of the game, I wanted to love it, I really did. But now all I feel is the disappointment of how much better it could’ve been if they didn’t butcher it.

A Pokemon Sun and Moon where I get to explore all of the islands without cutscenes every couple steps. Where there aren’t ten different forms of point markers to tell you where you’re supposed to go at any given point, and I can play the game to its fullest without worrying about accidentally overpowering myself. Almost every cutscene ends with someone giving you ten Max Revives. And they heal your Pokemon for you on top of it. There was really no reason to ever use healing items or Pokemon Centers, which are now conveniently located on almost every route now instead of only towns, because everyone would heal you before every major battle anyway. There was a time where I actually used healing items, because I was towards the end of the game. But no, they were wasted. As soon as I approach this powerful, endgame trainer, someone steps in and pitches me an entire medicine cabinet and heals my Pokemon for me.

There’s a difference between “Oh, just turn the Exp. Share off, then it won’t be too easy” and “Oh, just don’t talk to anyone, don’t buy anything, don’t battle too much, don’t explore the miscellaneous side-quests on each route, don’t use the Poke Pelago, turn Exp. Share off, don’t look at your bottom screen, ignore all of the cutscene dialogue, and don’t do any of the StreetPass Festival Plaza shit or whatever. Come on, it’s not too easy”.

It’s like if they made a reality TV show where you have to live in the same house as 8 different grandmas, but try not to get fat from them stuffing you full of food. You can refuse all you want, but they’re gonna get you. Even if you eat only three times a day, you’re gonna die of cardiac arrest. And you’re only allowed to murder one, the rest have to go from natural causes. There’s no way you’ll take home the million-dollar prize. You have better chances of beating the robot from Jeopardy.

Even the obnoxious feature where Pokemon call for help doesn’t do anything to balance the game, it just makes it more of a drag.

“Too easy” or “for casuals” would be the cop out verdict. The truth is that the game is just miserably balanced, relying on an instant gratification-style of gameplay and a slow-paced narrative that makes the game intolerable. The point where things start actually getting good is the brief half hour before it cuts to the credits, and then the game is over before it even starts.

It’s like not being able to get your peepee up and then when it’s finally up you blast your load immediately.

I think a lot of people did not actually like Sun or Moon, despite the overwhelmingly positive reviews. I don’t think a lot of people played it all the way through, actually. It’s a lot like when No Man’s Sky launched, and everyone was pretending to love it until someone said something about it. Several people told me Sun and Moon was just fantastic, and then they’d say “yeah, I’m on the second island now” and then they’d just leave the game for something else.

I think a lot of people just watched all the leaks and then beat off to hentai of the new characters and then just pretended like they finished the game. Not saying that no one at all enjoyed the game, I’m sure a lot of people did. A lot of people could’ve looked past the glaring flaws and loved it for what it was.

That doesn’t stop the fact that it’s still the only Pokemon game I’ve ever played that I didn’t have fun with. And that will be a mark of shame that the game has to wear. I almost wish that all I did was watch the leaks and never play the game. I could’ve lived with the illusion that Pokemon could do no wrong.

But no. I had to be a gentleman and learn the names of all the trainers before looking up hentai of them.

This is why chivalry is fucking dead.

#pokemon sun and moon #3ds game reviews #nintendo #game reviews #pokemon sumo #lord waffle king dot com #like lord waffle king dot com on fb #www.lordwaffleking.com #it'll stop being broken soon i promise #i am so fucking pissed #i just wanted to play pokemon #this review couldn't wait #i was really mad

[crystallinerays]

Give me everything about Desh. EVERYTHING. ALL OF THE NUMBERS. And then give me a character to do as well.

Well, i just came home from target with microwave pizza and a bottle of wine and I can’t think of better circumstances to talk about my favorite dumpster baby so here we go!

1. What is one thing others might find intolerable about them?

Other than their ridiculous upbeat attitude and kleptomaniac tendencies?

Maybe the fact that they leave their stuff everywhere. Come home from a mission and there’s armor strewn about the living room and kitchen and the stairs. A left on the bathroom sink, quiver of holding dangling off a door knob. One boot is in the front hallway and another is just chilling kicked off in her doorway. There are personal notes everywhere in a stupid variety of languages just left on any surface.

Like at first moving in with Desh seems find. They seem all neat and organized, but that’s because they didn’t own anything yet. Now, they’re really messy to live with, okay. There’s a method in the madness hidden deep in it, but like way deep.

(Desh’s room is fucking meticulous btw, it’s just all the shared spaces that they keep leaving their shit in. They want to make it super obvious that they live there, this is their house, and they’re comfortably not going anywhere.)

2. Do they have any annoying quirks? If so, what are they?

Does fidgeting count? Desh cannot stay still to save their life. Drumming fingers, tapping feet, taking off jewelry and fiddling with it (Desh wears a shit ton of rings like i do for just this purpose), spinning arrows, fucking around with knives, pacing.

Please imagine a Silver Council meeting where everyone is sitting down around a table and Desh is stalking  the perimeter of the room very seriously twirling a knife. It’s unnerving as fuck, but considering the current high stress situation it’s the only thing that really helps them pay attention.

that’s a quirk, right?

3. Name one or more of their bad habits.

Knives

Okay, I think we all know this kid is like the living personification of bad ideas being the only ideas. But honestly? Being an impulsive mother fuck.

4. Any addictions? (Food, sex, drugs/alcohol, shopping, power/control, etc.)

Sorta??? They’re a former drug addict. (And not just because some ghosts gave Desh and Thul opium addictions waaaaaay back when.)

I like to think when Desh and their brother were sold into slavery getting them hooked on opium or something was a good way of keeping them compliant and less likely to try and run away. They were cured of this once they were liberated (remove disease), but Desh did relapse for a while after witnessing Pezzack burn. They were a scared fucking nineteen year old kid fell in with the wrong crowd, okay? They left that behind and have been clean for a few years but like that was a thing that happened.

(all those nat 20s i rolled to cure their phantom addiction? maybe her Cayden taking mercy on her and being like “you’ve been through this enough, kid”)

5. What is one thing they do that can negatively affect their relationship with friends?

Well, they are rash and impulsive  and emotional and honestly doesn’t give a shit about hurting people’s feeling if what they think what they’re doing is Right, BUT I’m gonna say a bad habit of withholding information on this one.

Desh doesn’t like lying and believes in honesty above all things (and she’s the group’s spymaster. it’s impractical and a bit hypocritical yes I know), but she’s 100% behind not telling the full truth and withholding information to those she doesn’t think need to know it.

Like she’s not going to forwardly talk about her history and her wants and needs or why exactly Yewon bothers her (they don’t actually hate him it’s just... complicated? we haven’t quite unpacked that box yet, but it mostly has to do with his skill at lying and ability to easily manipulate and control people). But these are things they need everyone to know and might cause problems later on because they’ll interpret it as no one caring about them beyond their usefulness which is Bad™

6. Their romantic relationships?

I thought this was supposed to be about character flaws? This isn’t a flaw. Desh honestly considers meeting Ellia to be the single best thing that has happened to them since arriving in this hell hole of a fucking city. (Do not say this too loud around Reprisal or the bow I’m still trying to come up with a cool name for or the HOLY TANKARK OF INFINITE ALCOHOL.)

Fuck man, there’s someone who actually cares about them and like set them down to help them write an actual legal will. That’s probably the only legal document that Desh has relating to themself that wasn’t forged tbh. Like fuck I’m kinda tearing up just thinking about how much that would mean to them. How much Ellia means to them.

Desh fully intended to burn the whole city down if they had to back when dealing with Jill’s fucked up family and Ellia went missing. Like they would have done literally anything to ensure her safety or to exact vengeance and I just

And the stupid fucking pirate joke was so silly and pure like that honestly caught us both off guard.

But like she’s the only one who has asked Desh more than one personal question about themself and I am almost 100% certain that Desh would be completely and honestly open about her past and her family and her insecurities and everything with her. Like Desh communication is super fucking important in any relationship, but even more so to Desh and the fact that there is someone who cares. There’s no walls, no matter how stupid that might be.

Desh loves her. Like honestly loves her.

7. What is the biggest mistake they’ve ever made?

Going to Kintargo in the first place

Taking point on what they were fully aware of being an ambush and getting themself surrounded and then killed.

8. What mistake(s) do they continue to make/have not learned from?

It would be easier to list mistakes they have learned from tbh. Here’s one: don’t shoot at the faces of your teammates no matter how dope it might look.

9. Name some of their major physical shortcomings.

They can’t whistle or snap their fingers.

That’s the story and I’m sticking to it.

10. Some of their emotional shortcomings?

[takes a looooooooong drink]

boy howdy

They’re 24 years old and have heavy abandonment issues, lack a self worth outside of a price sticker slapped on them at an auction block (”463 gold for the pair”), depression, anxiety, ptsd. They never learned how to properly cope with most things. They’re fucking scared and constantly overwhelmed and nothing makes sense anymore. They never really got to be a kid and they’re kind of a total mess as an adult because of it.

11. What are their intellectual shortcomings?

That’s a bit harder to nail down??? Because something they’ve devoted their life and freedom to has been collecting knowledge. They’re fluent in 14 languages and know a lot of stuff about various entities they they might encounter in a fight. And they can probably tell you every myth and folklore from Rahadoum and Chelliax about dragons.

But honestly? People skills. They can sometimes be a bit of an awkward duck around people they’re not familiar with or in situations where they’re caught off guard.

12. At least one thing that they tend to overreact to.

SPIDERS

DESH DOES NOT LIKE SPIDERS

13. In what ways might they be overly negative and/or pessimistic?

One of the first things that y’all still ride me for is checking a cooking pot in Luculla’s house for the remains of children.

They were adamant about Thrune using his gifts to track the group’s movements.

As funny as Desh can be, her serious moments are very real and present and fucked up.

14. Is there anything they are too optimistic about?

[laughs for a solid fifteen minutes] Not anymore!

Their relationship probably. The whole rebellion not blowing up in smoke. Ending slavery in the region once it’s been liberated with no significant blow back. Being able to settle down and become a well adjusted person some day.

15. How might they be ignorant or prejudiced?

They have a problem with the word “evil”. Like everyone who is Evil is Bad. But like Ellia is Lawful Evil (last time I checked) and she’s not bad. She’s a good girlfriend and it was really complicated for a while but I think she’s kinda learning that sometimes people are just the alignment of their country by default and not Bad.

Or maybe it’s just Ellia. Probably just Ellia. She’s a beautiful outlier who should not have been counted.

16. Do they have any behaviors and/or beliefs that cannot be adequately justified?

I try and justify everything they do... I would have said their fear of spiders but... well... you kind of had a spider creature bite her face off so...

17. When would they be too judgmental of someone or something?

That time they fucking destroyed the imp.

When their first thought upon finding out that both Ellia and Luculla were missing was “Luculla’s behind this and I’m going to fucking skin her alive. She didn’t deserve me saving her life.”

18. Are they ever a pushover about something? If so, how?

She can go with the group’s mindset about most things like she doesn’t entirely give a fuck what they’re going to do as long as they can set up a decent groundwork for a plan first and no one innocent is being harmed outright.

19. Is there anything they refuse to budge on? What are they stubborn about?

Their stance on lying, control/manipulation, and slavery. That stance will never change. Ever.

But in general, once they’ve made up their mind about something they’re going to be stubborn af about it.

20. What is a self-inflicted misery of theirs? (i.e. something they perpetuate themselves)

Ooooooooooooh boy

Just read through this again. I’ve probably mentioned several.

#i hope you're happy #worldsabound #asks #oc desh #THIS TOOK ME OVER TWO HOURS HOLY FUCK

[stayalittlewhile]

why i need feminism

because the wage gap does exist, no matter how ignorant you choose to be about that. women make 77% of what men do, and that is a real statistic. whether you look at it from the angle of hours worked, jobs taken, promotions given, time taken off, seniority, or whatever you please, it is still 77%. it starts from birth when women are told to be pretty before being told to be smart. it starts when their teachers and parents and babysitters tell them to be quiet and “lady like” while the “boys will be boys”. it’s when those boys are taught that the louder they are, the better they will thrive, and that exceptions will always be made for their behaviour in the meantime. it’s little boys hitting and bullying little girls, and adults encouraging it by saying “he just has a crush on you”. telling boys that the way they should express affection is through disrespect, and telling girls that that’s what to expect from someone who “loves” you. it’s when girls are told that sports are a “boy” thing, and that they shouldn’t bother, causing the majority of girls to drop sports before high school. it’s young girls flourishing in school, but the boys still getting the praise for their grades. it’s the girls, just entering fourth grade and being put into a bra, years before ever needing it. it’s the boys, calling these girls “hot”, and making them feel gross about themselves. it’s the period jokes, trying to make girls feel bad about themselves for not being cheery, quiet, and polite at every second. it’s the sexual assaults that begin even before a girl has reached middle school, and the shame and embarrassment that forces them into keeping it quiet, and feeling as though it’s their own fault. it’s the girls in grade seven, wearing short shorts, because they’re called a prude if they don’t. it’s the stores that brand short shorts to young girls, and the bikini’s hung up in store windows, no bigger than that of a six year old. it’s the harsh instructions given to girls their entire lives, to not go anywhere alone, or talk to strangers, and the chilling feeling that would come with the dozens of times an older man would look at them like a piece of meat, and talk to them, both knowing it is inappropriate. it’s being told “get back to the kitchen” jokes from the young boys in middle school who didn’t even understand the history of what they were saying. and the grabbing. and the calling girls ugly at the time that their confidence is most fragile. it’s hearing boys rate girls out of 10, and laughing, talking about wanting to “make out” with the “hottest” girl. it’s the catcalls and sexual remarks made whenever a girl goes out in public. it’s the boys, who all have mothers and important females in their lives, fighting tooth and nail to deny that there’s any inequality, or agreeing with it just to get in a girl’s pants, and then admitting their beliefs. it’s boys making lists of the girls they’ve slept with, parading it around, and being treated like gods, while girls pray that nobody finds out, because they will forever be “that girl”. “that girl” who expressed her sexuality voluntarily, rather than having it thrusted on her while she had to just endure it, and make sure to stay quiet. it’s the girls being funnelled into university programs that pay less, because it’s the “mans job” to be in the higher paying fields. it’s the girls being told they can’t negotiate for a pay raise, because then they’re “bossy” or a “bitch”, while a man negotiating a pay raise is a “leader”. it’s the women who are expected to have kids, take leave to raise them, cut back hours because they “aren’t supposed to be the "bread winners” anyways". and men saying that “it’s their choice to do that” as if it wasn’t embedded in our culture. it’s the boys, who rather than aiming for equality, and educating themselves, would rather hide behind a computer screen and watch ridiculous videos trying to say the “feminist agenda” is making up statistics. and saying “stop playing your emotions” when a girl starts crying because the boy she thought understood, was in fact against equality, and acted as though it didn’t affect every fibre of her since she was old enough to have that pink blanket wrapped around her new born body. it’s the fact that this boy argued for hours about the wage gap, as though that’s all there is to a woman’s life, and as though something was being “taken away” from him, as though women haven’t been struggling with that ACTUAL problem forever. it’s him, arguing that rape claims are fake more often than statistics say they are, as if he has even the slightest inkling of an idea of how rape trials work. and what victims go through, and how unfair the system is. nobody would simply “make up” a rape. but here, we have a boy, again, arguing as though something is at a risk of being “taken away” from him… without even seeing the irony. i need feminism because i can not walk alone at night, and i have been emotionally damaged by men. i need feminism because i have woken up in the morning, not remembering having sex the night before, with an entirely sober boy next to me explaining that i did. i need feminism because this is, and has been my life for 19 years, and will continue to be my life, and i will not stand for someone telling me that gender inequality does not exist.

#feminism #gender inequality #whyineedfeminism

[raisingsupergirl]

Awesome Women Are Awesome

We interrupt your regularly scheduled drama to bring you something completely different. Something inspiring and refreshing. Something sure to remind you that there are, in fact, good things happening in the world. That there are good people in the world. And since my world seems to be populated by mostly women, it only makes sense that a few of them are pretty cool. Okay, a lot of them are cool, but I'm going to focus on just three of them right now because they've hit some major milestones in their lives recently, and they deserve a little praise.

While I've known all three of these girls since they were born, I guess it makes the most sense to start with the one that I've known the longest. Kayleigh is the oldest daughter of my middle brother (I'm the youngest). She holds a special place in my heart because she's the first person in my immediate family that I've watched grow up, and since she just graduated high school (in true, delayed COVID-19 fashion), I feel like I have a pretty good idea of the woman she's becoming. And even though she's changed a lot, in some ways, she's still the same ole Kayleigh. I remember her funny faces when she was trying to make people laugh as a baby, and I remember the silly nickname she gave my oldest brother (I'm talking about you, Uncle Buck). I also remember watching almost every home basketball and volleyball game with joy in my heart as she grew from a timid freshman to a team-leading senior. But even though most people know her for her athletic prowess these days, those who have known her longest see her a little differently.

Kayleigh isn't a showoff. She's not loud or pushy. But neither is she shy or reclusive. She's just… Kayleigh. She's one of the friendliest people I've ever known. She's considerate, aware, and smiling. Always smiling. Not because she's always happy, but because she cares if other people are happy. Yes, she's a perfectionist. Yes, she stresses out about the littlest things. And those qualities have pushed her to have the 7th highest GPA in her class and earn a full scholarship to college (for academics and athletics), but those qualities aren't what define her. To me, those qualities will put her in a position to succeed in this world, but her genuine kindness is what's going to set her up to make an impact on it. She will see the true needs of those around her, big or small, and she won't let any challenge stop her from making positive changes for decades to come. So, go get 'em, Kayleigh. And never stop smiling.

The next girl on my list is a lot like Kayleigh. She has a kind heart and a sensitive soul. She's meticulous and she's funny. The only difference is that Avery Laryssa Winch is loud. And I can say that because she's my daughter. My oldest daughter, in fact, and she just turned six. So I guess my "loud" comment is a bit unfair, but even for a six year old she's, well, loud. But not in a bad way. She's just so excited. Life is just so awesome! Pokémon and Frozen and Zelda and kitties and t-ball and Nana and Meemaw and Papa and swimming and gooey butter cake. And how could she not share how awesome those things are with everyone she meets? I mean, what if they weren't aware? It would be selfish of her to keep it to herself, right? And if they do know, well then, she'll have someone to talk to about the awesomeness for hours!

But she's not just excited. As I said, she's also considerate and fair. She accepts when she's done something to get into trouble. And she's outspoken when she's wrongly punished. I once lamented her "white lies," but now she knows the importance of honesty. She also knows the importance of making sure her little sister is safe and happy. She's the best helper ever, though she won't hear you through a megaphone if her attention is on something else. And that hyper-focus is a part of what I love about her. Because when she does realize that you were talking to her, she'll laugh and apologize, then explain that she was just zoned in on that other thing. It's cute, really. But the best thing about Avery is that she's still a kid, and she totally owns it. She doesn't try to talk about grownup things. She's more interested in having fun than understanding the problems of adult life. She's innocent. And therefore, she has no problem showing pure love. Even when she's "stressed" or "emotional," there's still an unadulterated purity that shines through like a white light, and just thinking about it makes me smile. So, happy sixth birthday, my sweet Avery. I know you get older every day, but you'll always be my little super girl.

And then… there's Annabel.

My second born just turned three. At first, I kind of thought she was like Avery. And in some ways, she is. She's hyper-focused. She loves all of the same things that Avery loves. But she just loves them in a different way. She gets a little closer and squeezes a little harder. Her angry furrowed brow would put a caveman to shame. She could care less if you like what she's playing with as long as you don't get in her way. Though, she does care if Avery likes it. Her big sister is everything to her (and, as I said, Avery makes it easy because she genuinely loves Annabel, as well. At least for now, those two are best friends). And she's in-tune with others' emotions, as well. She often curls up in my lap, smooshes my cheeks together, and asks, "Are you happy?" And I'm certain that she asks because she really wants to know. I can see the seriousness and understanding in her eyes.

It's hard to tell how much of Annabel's cantankerousness is her actual personality and how much is her age (she's finally out of diapers, which means she's finally old enough for spankins). But either way, it's clear that she's much more confident than her big sister. Where Avery has her mommy's timidity, Annabel is like Daddy. And worst of all, she's so smart. She's picked up numbers and colors and shapes without any intentional teaching. She's constantly saying things like, "Is this blue?" And that inquisitiveness only adds to her confidence. Barring some unforeseen trauma, that girl is going to face life head-on. And I have to keep that in mind when I'm disciplining her. She will learn the importance of honesty, kindness, and patience (just like her big sister), but I know I have to be careful to not exasperate her. Avery wants to please her parents, so she's pretty good at accepting correction. Annabel… well, she'll just have to learn the importance of a lot of things in her own time. And that's completely fine. Like I said, that's how I've always been, and even though I've sometimes taken the long way around, I'm doing all right. So, Annabel, just keep being you. Stay passionate, inquisitive, and intuitive. You'll get there, girl. Surrounded by so many other awesome women, you don't have any other option.

I know those are just three of the many amazing ladies in my life, but gosh, they are really amazing. Their common passion and kindness makes me want nothing but the best for them. They're magnetic. And despite the fact that they all express those qualities a little differently, they have the same spirit. The world needs more girls like them. And, with any luck, their light will shine on this tumultuous world and remind us all of what's really important. Good luck, ladies. You've got this.

#awesome woman #woman power #women of the future #parenting #6th birthday #3rd birthday #birthday #graduation #momblr #dadblr #mumblr #kindness

[stephenmccull]

Life Beyond COVID Seclusion: Seniors See Challenges And Change Ahead

Months into the coronavirus pandemic, older adults are having a hard time envisioning their “new normal.”

Many remain fearful of catching the virus and plan to follow strict precautions — social distancing, wearing masks and gloves, limiting excursions to public places — for the indefinite future.

Mortality is no longer an abstraction for those who have seen friends and relatives die of COVID-19. Death has an immediate presence as never before.

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Many people are grieving the loss of their old lives and would love nothing better than to pick up where they left off. Others are convinced their lives will never be the same.

“We’re at the cusp of a new world,” said Harry Hutson, 72, an organizational consultant and executive coach who lives in Baltimore.

He’s among nearly a dozen older adults who discussed the “new normal” in lengthy conversations. All acknowledged their vulnerability as states across the country lift stay-at-home orders. (Adults 65 and older are more likely to become critically ill if infected with the coronavirus.) Here’s some of what they said:

(Courtesy of Willetha and Harold Barnette)

Willetha, 67, and Harold, 68, Barnette, of Durham, North Carolina. The Barnettes are an unusual couple: They divorced in 1995 but began living together again in 2014 when both Willetha and her elderly mother became ill and Harold returned to help.

For Willetha, who has Crohn’s disease and is immunocompromised, the “new normal” is characterized by vigilance — masks, gloves, disinfectants, social distancing, working remotely (she’s a development officer at a school).

“I’m not going to be comfortable freely moving around this world until they’re able to do reliable antibody testing and there is a vaccine,” she said. “Right now, I think we all have to learn to live smaller.”

Harold believes that self-reliance and local support networks are more important than ever. “To me, the pandemic reveals troubling things about the state of institutions in our society. The elder care system is rotten and the health care system full of neglect,” he said.

“I’m preparing myself for a different social order. I’m thinking that will be built on relationships with family and people near to us and we’ll all be helping each other out more.”

(Courtesy of Patricia Griffin)

Patricia Griffin, 80, of Oxford, Pennsylvania. Griffin is a retired microbiologist who lives alone in a continuing care community and loves to travel. In March, as the coronavirus pandemic gathered steam, she was due to take a trip to the Amazon, which was canceled.

“I envision conditions for seniors being restrictive until we have a vaccine,” Griffin said. “That makes me angry because I don’t have that many years left. And I would like to do the things I want to do. At the moment, I’m leaning toward being cautious but not being completely a prisoner.”

A big frustration for Griffin is the lack of clear guidance for healthy older adults like her who do not have underlying medical conditions. “All we see are statistics that lump all of us together, the healthy with those that have multiple issues,” she said. I’m wondering what my odds of getting really sick from this virus are.”

(Courtesy of Wilma Jenkins)

Wilma Jenkins, 82, of South Fulton, Georgia. Jenkins, who has coped with depression most of her life and describes herself as an introvert, lives alone in a small house just outside Atlanta.

“I confess I’m going to be afraid for a while,” she said.

During the pandemic, her three adult children and grandchildren have created a new tradition: Zoom meetings every Sunday afternoon. Previously, the entire family got together once a year, at Thanksgiving. “It helps me a lot, and I think it will last because we have so much fun,” Jenkins said.

Before her life ground to a halt, Jenkins regularly gave presentations at senior centers across Atlanta on what it’s like to grow old. “My work is helping little old people like me,” she said, “and when I can get out again, I’ll be reminding them that we have reached a point when we can wear the crown of age and we should be doing that proudly.”

(Courtesy of Ed and Marian Hollingsworth)

Marian and Ed Hollingsworth, 66 and 72, of La Mesa, California. Ed has a rare gastrointestinal cancer and is enrolled in a clinical trial of a new drug.

“My vision of the future is somewhat limited, given my age and my prognosis,” he said. “There’s a constant fear and uncertainty. I don’t see that changing anytime soon. We’ll be in the house a lot, cooking a lot, watching a lot of Netflix.”

“I’m looking at least a year or two of taking strong precautions,” said Marian, a patient safety advocate.

“I always was the person who was active and doing for others: Now I’m the one at home having to ask for help, and it feels so foreign,” she said. Her most immediate heartache: “We don’t know when we’ll see our [four] kids again.”

(Courtesy of Richard Chady)

Richard Chady, 75, of Chapel Hill, North Carolina. Chady, a former journalist and public relations professional, lives in a retirement community and participates in the North Carolina Coalition on Aging.

“This pandemic has given me a greater appreciation of how precious family and friends are,” he said. “I think it will cause older people to examine their lives and their purpose a little more carefully.”

Chady is optimistic about the future. “I’ve been involved in progressive causes for a long time and I think we have a great opportunity now. With all that’s happened, there’s more acceptance of the idea that we need to do more to improve people’s lives.”

(Courtesy of Edward Mosley)

Edward Mosley, 62, of Atlanta. Mosley lives alone in Big Bethel Village, an affordable senior housing community. Disabled by serious heart disease, he relies on Supplemental Security Income and Medicaid. In the past year, he has had multiple hospitalizations.

“The pandemic, it affected me because they canceled my doctors’ appointments and I was in a bad way,” said Mosley, who had a pacemaker implanted in his chest before COVID-19 emerged. “But I’m doing better now. I can walk with a cane, though not very far.”

The hardest thing for Mosley is not being able to mingle with other people “because you don’t know where they’ve been or who they’ve been with. You feel like you’re in solitary confinement.”

(Courtesy of Vicki Ellner)

Vicki Ellner, 68, of Glenwood Landing, New York. Ellner ran Senior Umbrella Network of Brooklyn for 20 years. Today she works as a consultant for an elder care attorney on Long Island.

Before the coronavirus upended life in and around New York City, Ellner and the attorney were planning to launch an initiative aimed at older women. Now, they’ve broadened it to include older men and address issues raised during the pandemic. The theme: “You’re not done yet.”

Ellner explains it this way: “Maybe you were on a path and had a vision of your life in mind. Then all of a sudden you have these challenges. Maybe you lost your job, or maybe things have happened in your family. What we want to help people understand is you’re not done yet. You still have the ability to redirect your life.”

In her personal life, Ellner, who lives with a “significant other,” is determined to keep fear at bay. “We tell ourselves we’re doing everything we can to stay vital and get through this. We try to turn that into a positive.”

(Courtesy of Harry Hutson)

Harry Hutson, 72, of Baltimore. Hutson, an organizational consultant and executive coach, is married and has five grown children. He believes “an enormous change in lifestyle” is occurring because of the pandemic.

“We’re all more careful, but we’re also more connected,” he said. “Older friends are coming out of the woodwork. Everyone is Zooming and making calls. People are more open and vulnerable and willing to share than before. We’re all trying to make meaning of this new world.”

“We’re all having a traumatic experience — an experience of collective trauma,” Hutson said. As the future unfolds, “the main thing is self-care and compassion. That’s the way forward for all of us.”

(Courtesy of Annis Pratt)

Annis Pratt, 83, of Birmingham, Michigan. A retired English professor, novelist and environmental activist, Pratt lives alone in a home in suburban Detroit.

“What I’m looking forward to is getting back to interacting with real people. Much of my human contact now is on Zoom, which I consider about 75% of a personal encounter,” she said. “But every day, I make myself go out and talk to someone — like taking a vitamin pill.”

Pratt now has a “do not put me on a ventilator” order in her front hallway, along with a “do not resuscitate” order. “I know it’s very likely that if I get to the point where I have to go to the hospital, I’ll probably die,” she said. “Of course, I’m going to die anyway: I’m 83. But somehow, this pandemic has brought it all home.”

Going forward, Pratt sees two possibilities. “Our moral imaginations will have grown because of what we’ve all gone through and we will do better. Or nothing will have changed.”

Most of all, she said, “I would like to get my wonderful, wonderful life back.”

Life Beyond COVID Seclusion: Seniors See Challenges And Change Ahead published first on https://smartdrinkingweb.weebly.com/

[dinafbrownil]

Life Beyond COVID Seclusion: Seniors See Challenges And Change Ahead

Months into the coronavirus pandemic, older adults are having a hard time envisioning their “new normal.”

Many remain fearful of catching the virus and plan to follow strict precautions — social distancing, wearing masks and gloves, limiting excursions to public places — for the indefinite future.

Mortality is no longer an abstraction for those who have seen friends and relatives die of COVID-19. Death has an immediate presence as never before.

Email Sign-Up

Subscribe to KHN’s free Morning Briefing.

Sign Up

Please confirm your email address below:

Sign Up

Many people are grieving the loss of their old lives and would love nothing better than to pick up where they left off. Others are convinced their lives will never be the same.

“We’re at the cusp of a new world,” said Harry Hutson, 72, an organizational consultant and executive coach who lives in Baltimore.

He’s among nearly a dozen older adults who discussed the “new normal” in lengthy conversations. All acknowledged their vulnerability as states across the country lift stay-at-home orders. (Adults 65 and older are more likely to become critically ill if infected with the coronavirus.) Here’s some of what they said:

(Courtesy of Willetha and Harold Barnette)

Willetha, 67, and Harold, 68, Barnette, of Durham, North Carolina. The Barnettes are an unusual couple: They divorced in 1995 but began living together again in 2014 when both Willetha and her elderly mother became ill and Harold returned to help.

For Willetha, who has Crohn’s disease and is immunocompromised, the “new normal” is characterized by vigilance — masks, gloves, disinfectants, social distancing, working remotely (she’s a development officer at a school).

“I’m not going to be comfortable freely moving around this world until they’re able to do reliable antibody testing and there is a vaccine,” she said. “Right now, I think we all have to learn to live smaller.”

Harold believes that self-reliance and local support networks are more important than ever. “To me, the pandemic reveals troubling things about the state of institutions in our society. The elder care system is rotten and the health care system full of neglect,” he said.

“I’m preparing myself for a different social order. I’m thinking that will be built on relationships with family and people near to us and we’ll all be helping each other out more.”

(Courtesy of Patricia Griffin)

Patricia Griffin, 80, of Oxford, Pennsylvania. Griffin is a retired microbiologist who lives alone in a continuing care community and loves to travel. In March, as the coronavirus pandemic gathered steam, she was due to take a trip to the Amazon, which was canceled.

“I envision conditions for seniors being restrictive until we have a vaccine,” Griffin said. “That makes me angry because I don’t have that many years left. And I would like to do the things I want to do. At the moment, I’m leaning toward being cautious but not being completely a prisoner.”

A big frustration for Griffin is the lack of clear guidance for healthy older adults like her who do not have underlying medical conditions. “All we see are statistics that lump all of us together, the healthy with those that have multiple issues,” she said. I’m wondering what my odds of getting really sick from this virus are.”

(Courtesy of Wilma Jenkins)

Wilma Jenkins, 82, of South Fulton, Georgia. Jenkins, who has coped with depression most of her life and describes herself as an introvert, lives alone in a small house just outside Atlanta.

“I confess I’m going to be afraid for a while,” she said.

During the pandemic, her three adult children and grandchildren have created a new tradition: Zoom meetings every Sunday afternoon. Previously, the entire family got together once a year, at Thanksgiving. “It helps me a lot, and I think it will last because we have so much fun,” Jenkins said.

Before her life ground to a halt, Jenkins regularly gave presentations at senior centers across Atlanta on what it’s like to grow old. “My work is helping little old people like me,” she said, “and when I can get out again, I’ll be reminding them that we have reached a point when we can wear the crown of age and we should be doing that proudly.”

(Courtesy of Ed and Marian Hollingsworth)

Marian and Ed Hollingsworth, 66 and 72, of La Mesa, California. Ed has a rare gastrointestinal cancer and is enrolled in a clinical trial of a new drug.

“My vision of the future is somewhat limited, given my age and my prognosis,” he said. “There’s a constant fear and uncertainty. I don’t see that changing anytime soon. We’ll be in the house a lot, cooking a lot, watching a lot of Netflix.”

“I’m looking at least a year or two of taking strong precautions,” said Marian, a patient safety advocate.

“I always was the person who was active and doing for others: Now I’m the one at home having to ask for help, and it feels so foreign,” she said. Her most immediate heartache: “We don’t know when we’ll see our [four] kids again.”

(Courtesy of Richard Chady)

Richard Chady, 75, of Chapel Hill, North Carolina. Chady, a former journalist and public relations professional, lives in a retirement community and participates in the North Carolina Coalition on Aging.

“This pandemic has given me a greater appreciation of how precious family and friends are,” he said. “I think it will cause older people to examine their lives and their purpose a little more carefully.”

Chady is optimistic about the future. “I’ve been involved in progressive causes for a long time and I think we have a great opportunity now. With all that’s happened, there’s more acceptance of the idea that we need to do more to improve people’s lives.”

(Courtesy of Edward Mosley)

Edward Mosley, 62, of Atlanta. Mosley lives alone in Big Bethel Village, an affordable senior housing community. Disabled by serious heart disease, he relies on Supplemental Security Income and Medicaid. In the past year, he has had multiple hospitalizations.

“The pandemic, it affected me because they canceled my doctors’ appointments and I was in a bad way,” said Mosley, who had a pacemaker implanted in his chest before COVID-19 emerged. “But I’m doing better now. I can walk with a cane, though not very far.”

The hardest thing for Mosley is not being able to mingle with other people “because you don’t know where they’ve been or who they’ve been with. You feel like you’re in solitary confinement.”

(Courtesy of Vicki Ellner)

Vicki Ellner, 68, of Glenwood Landing, New York. Ellner ran Senior Umbrella Network of Brooklyn for 20 years. Today she works as a consultant for an elder care attorney on Long Island.

Before the coronavirus upended life in and around New York City, Ellner and the attorney were planning to launch an initiative aimed at older women. Now, they’ve broadened it to include older men and address issues raised during the pandemic. The theme: “You’re not done yet.”

Ellner explains it this way: “Maybe you were on a path and had a vision of your life in mind. Then all of a sudden you have these challenges. Maybe you lost your job, or maybe things have happened in your family. What we want to help people understand is you’re not done yet. You still have the ability to redirect your life.”

In her personal life, Ellner, who lives with a “significant other,” is determined to keep fear at bay. “We tell ourselves we’re doing everything we can to stay vital and get through this. We try to turn that into a positive.”

(Courtesy of Harry Hutson)

Harry Hutson, 72, of Baltimore. Hutson, an organizational consultant and executive coach, is married and has five grown children. He believes “an enormous change in lifestyle” is occurring because of the pandemic.

“We’re all more careful, but we’re also more connected,” he said. “Older friends are coming out of the woodwork. Everyone is Zooming and making calls. People are more open and vulnerable and willing to share than before. We’re all trying to make meaning of this new world.”

“We’re all having a traumatic experience — an experience of collective trauma,” Hutson said. As the future unfolds, “the main thing is self-care and compassion. That’s the way forward for all of us.”

(Courtesy of Annis Pratt)

Annis Pratt, 83, of Birmingham, Michigan. A retired English professor, novelist and environmental activist, Pratt lives alone in a home in suburban Detroit.

“What I’m looking forward to is getting back to interacting with real people. Much of my human contact now is on Zoom, which I consider about 75% of a personal encounter,” she said. “But every day, I make myself go out and talk to someone — like taking a vitamin pill.”

Pratt now has a “do not put me on a ventilator” order in her front hallway, along with a “do not resuscitate” order. “I know it’s very likely that if I get to the point where I have to go to the hospital, I’ll probably die,” she said. “Of course, I’m going to die anyway: I’m 83. But somehow, this pandemic has brought it all home.”

Going forward, Pratt sees two possibilities. “Our moral imaginations will have grown because of what we’ve all gone through and we will do better. Or nothing will have changed.”

Most of all, she said, “I would like to get my wonderful, wonderful life back.”

from Updates By Dina https://khn.org/news/life-beyond-covid-seclusion-seniors-see-challenges-and-change-ahead/

[gordonwilliamsweb]

Life Beyond COVID Seclusion: Seniors See Challenges And Change Ahead

Months into the coronavirus pandemic, older adults are having a hard time envisioning their “new normal.”

Many remain fearful of catching the virus and plan to follow strict precautions — social distancing, wearing masks and gloves, limiting excursions to public places — for the indefinite future.

Mortality is no longer an abstraction for those who have seen friends and relatives die of COVID-19. Death has an immediate presence as never before.

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Many people are grieving the loss of their old lives and would love nothing better than to pick up where they left off. Others are convinced their lives will never be the same.

“We’re at the cusp of a new world,” said Harry Hutson, 72, an organizational consultant and executive coach who lives in Baltimore.

He’s among nearly a dozen older adults who discussed the “new normal” in lengthy conversations. All acknowledged their vulnerability as states across the country lift stay-at-home orders. (Adults 65 and older are more likely to become critically ill if infected with the coronavirus.) Here’s some of what they said:

(Courtesy of Willetha and Harold Barnette)

Willetha, 67, and Harold, 68, Barnette, of Durham, North Carolina. The Barnettes are an unusual couple: They divorced in 1995 but began living together again in 2014 when both Willetha and her elderly mother became ill and Harold returned to help.

For Willetha, who has Crohn’s disease and is immunocompromised, the “new normal” is characterized by vigilance — masks, gloves, disinfectants, social distancing, working remotely (she’s a development officer at a school).

“I’m not going to be comfortable freely moving around this world until they’re able to do reliable antibody testing and there is a vaccine,” she said. “Right now, I think we all have to learn to live smaller.”

Harold believes that self-reliance and local support networks are more important than ever. “To me, the pandemic reveals troubling things about the state of institutions in our society. The elder care system is rotten and the health care system full of neglect,” he said.

“I’m preparing myself for a different social order. I’m thinking that will be built on relationships with family and people near to us and we’ll all be helping each other out more.”

(Courtesy of Patricia Griffin)

Patricia Griffin, 80, of Oxford, Pennsylvania. Griffin is a retired microbiologist who lives alone in a continuing care community and loves to travel. In March, as the coronavirus pandemic gathered steam, she was due to take a trip to the Amazon, which was canceled.

“I envision conditions for seniors being restrictive until we have a vaccine,” Griffin said. “That makes me angry because I don’t have that many years left. And I would like to do the things I want to do. At the moment, I’m leaning toward being cautious but not being completely a prisoner.”

A big frustration for Griffin is the lack of clear guidance for healthy older adults like her who do not have underlying medical conditions. “All we see are statistics that lump all of us together, the healthy with those that have multiple issues,” she said. I’m wondering what my odds of getting really sick from this virus are.”

(Courtesy of Wilma Jenkins)

Wilma Jenkins, 82, of South Fulton, Georgia. Jenkins, who has coped with depression most of her life and describes herself as an introvert, lives alone in a small house just outside Atlanta.

“I confess I’m going to be afraid for a while,” she said.

During the pandemic, her three adult children and grandchildren have created a new tradition: Zoom meetings every Sunday afternoon. Previously, the entire family got together once a year, at Thanksgiving. “It helps me a lot, and I think it will last because we have so much fun,” Jenkins said.

Before her life ground to a halt, Jenkins regularly gave presentations at senior centers across Atlanta on what it’s like to grow old. “My work is helping little old people like me,” she said, “and when I can get out again, I’ll be reminding them that we have reached a point when we can wear the crown of age and we should be doing that proudly.”

(Courtesy of Ed and Marian Hollingsworth)

Marian and Ed Hollingsworth, 66 and 72, of La Mesa, California. Ed has a rare gastrointestinal cancer and is enrolled in a clinical trial of a new drug.

“My vision of the future is somewhat limited, given my age and my prognosis,” he said. “There’s a constant fear and uncertainty. I don’t see that changing anytime soon. We’ll be in the house a lot, cooking a lot, watching a lot of Netflix.”

“I’m looking at least a year or two of taking strong precautions,” said Marian, a patient safety advocate.

“I always was the person who was active and doing for others: Now I’m the one at home having to ask for help, and it feels so foreign,” she said. Her most immediate heartache: “We don’t know when we’ll see our [four] kids again.”

(Courtesy of Richard Chady)

Richard Chady, 75, of Chapel Hill, North Carolina. Chady, a former journalist and public relations professional, lives in a retirement community and participates in the North Carolina Coalition on Aging.

“This pandemic has given me a greater appreciation of how precious family and friends are,” he said. “I think it will cause older people to examine their lives and their purpose a little more carefully.”

Chady is optimistic about the future. “I’ve been involved in progressive causes for a long time and I think we have a great opportunity now. With all that’s happened, there’s more acceptance of the idea that we need to do more to improve people’s lives.”

(Courtesy of Edward Mosley)

Edward Mosley, 62, of Atlanta. Mosley lives alone in Big Bethel Village, an affordable senior housing community. Disabled by serious heart disease, he relies on Supplemental Security Income and Medicaid. In the past year, he has had multiple hospitalizations.

“The pandemic, it affected me because they canceled my doctors’ appointments and I was in a bad way,” said Mosley, who had a pacemaker implanted in his chest before COVID-19 emerged. “But I’m doing better now. I can walk with a cane, though not very far.”

The hardest thing for Mosley is not being able to mingle with other people “because you don’t know where they’ve been or who they’ve been with. You feel like you’re in solitary confinement.”

(Courtesy of Vicki Ellner)

Vicki Ellner, 68, of Glenwood Landing, New York. Ellner ran Senior Umbrella Network of Brooklyn for 20 years. Today she works as a consultant for an elder care attorney on Long Island.

Before the coronavirus upended life in and around New York City, Ellner and the attorney were planning to launch an initiative aimed at older women. Now, they’ve broadened it to include older men and address issues raised during the pandemic. The theme: “You’re not done yet.”

Ellner explains it this way: “Maybe you were on a path and had a vision of your life in mind. Then all of a sudden you have these challenges. Maybe you lost your job, or maybe things have happened in your family. What we want to help people understand is you’re not done yet. You still have the ability to redirect your life.”

In her personal life, Ellner, who lives with a “significant other,” is determined to keep fear at bay. “We tell ourselves we’re doing everything we can to stay vital and get through this. We try to turn that into a positive.”

(Courtesy of Harry Hutson)

Harry Hutson, 72, of Baltimore. Hutson, an organizational consultant and executive coach, is married and has five grown children. He believes “an enormous change in lifestyle” is occurring because of the pandemic.

“We’re all more careful, but we’re also more connected,” he said. “Older friends are coming out of the woodwork. Everyone is Zooming and making calls. People are more open and vulnerable and willing to share than before. We’re all trying to make meaning of this new world.”

“We’re all having a traumatic experience — an experience of collective trauma,” Hutson said. As the future unfolds, “the main thing is self-care and compassion. That’s the way forward for all of us.”

(Courtesy of Annis Pratt)

Annis Pratt, 83, of Birmingham, Michigan. A retired English professor, novelist and environmental activist, Pratt lives alone in a home in suburban Detroit.

“What I’m looking forward to is getting back to interacting with real people. Much of my human contact now is on Zoom, which I consider about 75% of a personal encounter,” she said. “But every day, I make myself go out and talk to someone — like taking a vitamin pill.”

Pratt now has a “do not put me on a ventilator” order in her front hallway, along with a “do not resuscitate” order. “I know it’s very likely that if I get to the point where I have to go to the hospital, I’ll probably die,” she said. “Of course, I’m going to die anyway: I’m 83. But somehow, this pandemic has brought it all home.”

Going forward, Pratt sees two possibilities. “Our moral imaginations will have grown because of what we’ve all gone through and we will do better. Or nothing will have changed.”

Most of all, she said, “I would like to get my wonderful, wonderful life back.”

Life Beyond COVID Seclusion: Seniors See Challenges And Change Ahead published first on https://nootropicspowdersupplier.tumblr.com/