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mariacallous · 1 year ago

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The form reached my inbox as part of routine paperwork, but I sensed a tinge of accusation. I had been invited to speak at a national laboratory. In order to access the facility, I was required to attest that I wasn’t a participant in a foreign talent recruitment program. China, my birth country, topped a short list of “countries of risk.”

I found the vigilance slightly amusing. I was going to give a talk! In a dash of mischievousness, I thought of scrawling over the form: “D-I-S-S-I-D-E-N-T!”

I have never liked the word “dissident” or claimed to be one, though others have labeled me as such. The point of the story is not that I’m special, but that I should have nothing to prove in the first place. No amount of public critique of Beijing’s policies or the personal cost dissent exacts can spare me from the extra scrutiny. As a Chinese person living in the US, I’m often treated as a potential spy before I’m seen as a human being.

Espionage was once considered antithetical to American individualism. The term invoked imperial European courts—the word spy originated from Old French, espie—and British secret agents, symbols of an old world that the young republic was trying to break away and distinguish itself from. The carnage of World War II shattered America’s isolationist proposition. Joining its newly founded clandestine services was lauded as patriotic. In the long shadows of the Cold War, the enemy agent in the popular imagination was someone hiding a Russian accent. Three decades after the fall of the Soviet Union, as China emerges as a new superpower and contests US hegemony, the face of foreign espionage in the West has become Chinese.

It’s not just that Chinese students and scientists are routinely depicted as puppets of Beijing and conduits of intellectual property theft. The tint of racialized suspicion has seeped into anything “made in China.” Communications equipment from Huawei and ZTE are lurking in the airwaves. TikTok is “the spy in Americans’ pockets.” US authorities deem Chinese-manufactured cargo cranes a possible national security threat; in the words of a former head of counterintelligence, “cranes can be the new Huawei.” The acquisition of American farmlands by Chinese firms has also been met with alarm: The properties could be used as a “perch for spying,” so the argument goes. When a Chinese high-altitude surveillance balloon flew across parts of the US before it was shot down over the Atlantic, the mass hysteria had less to do with the balloon itself—even the Pentagon acknowledged it posed minimal risk—and more to do with the state of the national psyche. The floating object was the materialization of a constant dread, the embodiment of an alien intrusion.

Each time an objectionable act becomes racialized, such as how “crime” is coded as Black and “terrorism” as Muslim after 9/11, the problem is not that every individual from the minority group is innocent but that the collective is regarded as uniquely guilty, and anyone who shares the identity is implicated by association. The ethnicization of espionage in the US as a distinctly Chinese threat is rooted in centuries-old Orientalism and reinforces racial stereotypes. The rhetoric is weaponized to expand state power and advance special interests. The illusion of protection by discriminatory means obscures fundamental questions about our relationships with technology and the state, as well as how to navigate between our intimate and communal selves. In a world of privatized commons and militarized borders, who sees or cannot be seen? For whose benefit, and to what end?

A prominent 19th-century science manual instructs that a person’s “faculty of Secretiveness” can be measured by how much the shape of the nostrils resembles that of a Chinese nose. Published in New York in 1849, the book asserts that the people of China “are the most remarkable people in the world for secretiveness.” This view, widely held at the time, was echoed by the American diplomat and travel writer Bayard Taylor, who claimed that “the Chinese are, morally, the most debased people on the face of the earth,” whose “character cannot even be hinted.”

As waves of Chinese migrants left a crumbling Qing empire for distant shores, their presence disrupted a fragile white identity based on native dispossession and the transatlantic slave trade. Moral panic ensued. Popular literature described the Chinese people as mysterious, with inner worlds as cryptic as their written script. The new arrivals were treated as an invading species, who were stealing jobs, spreading disease, and corrupting the body politic.

In 1912, the British novelist Sax Rohmer, a white man, invented a character who epitomized the West’s fears and fantasies about the Orient: Dr. Fu Manchu. The supervillain and mad scientist is “Yellow Peril incarnate.” Inspired by the works of Bayard Taylor, Rohmer described Fu Manchu’s face as inscrutable, an impenetrable mask concealing his evil plots. Ironically, in over a dozen film adaptations over the decades, the character has only been played by white actors.

The projection of one’s insecurities onto the other is always riddled with contradictions. In the West, the Chinese people are portrayed as both primitive—so they need to steal technology—and scientifically advanced, with superior spying capabilities. The Middle Kingdom is either hopelessly stuck in the past or already inhabiting the future, where an ancient wisdom bestows startling foresight. The only consistency in these conflicting prejudices is an othering stance. The people of China are regarded as so radically different they’re relegated to a different temporal plane, while the present belongs to the West.

During the Mao era, Western writers used the phrase “blue ants” to describe the Chinese population, in reference to the light navy uniforms of the time. This image of the Chinese people as faceless, mindless automatons has also shaped American perceptions of Chinese spycraft, most notably in the so-called “thousand grains of sand” theory. Proposed by FBI analysts in the 1980s, the metaphor goes like this: To gather intelligence about a beach, the Russians would send in a submarine and frogmen, the Americans would use satellites, and the Chinese would simply dispatch a thousand tourists, each collecting a single grain of sand. The theory has been refuted—Beijing’s intelligence operations are not so different from those in other countries and mostly rely on professionals—but not before it had been hailed as doctrine for decades and cast a distorting light on every Chinese visitor as a potential foreign agent.

This February, during the first hearing by the newly established House Select Committee on China, former national security adviser H. R. McMaster described the pervasiveness of Chinese industrial espionage in graphic terms: “If you bolt your front door, they’re coming through the window. If you bolt your windows and put up screens, they’re going to tunnel under your house.” According to the retired general, the “many vectors of attack” demanded “a holistic approach.” As I listened to the hearing, I wondered how many who had heard these words pictured an army of ants creeping through the cracks, sweeping up every grain of sand.

Three days before its debut hearing, the House Select Committee on China held a rally and press conference in Manhattan, outside a commercial building in Chinatown.

"This innocent-looking building that you see behind me has an unauthorized secret police station linked to the Chinese Communist Party," said Congressman Mike Gallagher, who chairs the committee. According to law enforcement officials and some human rights groups, the Chinese government operates dozens of overseas police outposts, including three in the US, which can be used to surveil local Chinese communities and suppress dissent. Weeks after the press conference, the FBI arrested two men associated with the office in Manhattan on charges of conspiring to act as foreign agents and destroying evidence. On the same day, the Justice Department also charged 44 individuals, believed to be based in China, on crimes related to online harassment and intimidation against Chinese nationals in the US.

I watched a video of the press conference. Members of the Chinese and Tibetan diaspora stood behind the congressional delegates. They held up signs that read “Condemn the CCP’s transnational repression.” But one item from the demonstration caught my attention: a pale balloon with a Chinese national flag sticker on one side, and three letters on the other, “SPY.”

I reckon that the choice of prop might have been tactical. By holding up a white party balloon, the protesters were trying to invoke a common angst over Beijing’s aggression. For those of us who have crossed oceans and political systems, to still live under the watchful eyes of the home government can be a profoundly lonely experience, not unlike that of being a racialized minority. In the words of a Chinese human rights activist who spoke at the rally, “This is the first time that the Chinese basic community feel that their grievance is heard by the American public.”

However, the emotional appeal from minority members for official intervention can inadvertently imperil the same communities in need of protection. By casting violations of civil liberties through the sweeping lens of national security, Washington’s hardened response helps fuel racial bias, which can easily mistake targets of transnational repression as its suspected perpetrators. The emphasis on legal status and political allegiance in immigrant communities normalizes the nation and its borders, and reinforces a Cold War binarism where China and the US stand as polar opposites.

In 2001, as a member of the Washington state legislature, Representative Cathy McMorris Rodgers blocked a bill that would replace the word “Oriental” with “Asian” in official documents. This March, at the highly anticipated congressional hearing featuring TikTok CEO Shou Zi Chew, Rodgers, now chair of the House Energy and Commerce Committee, declared at the start, “We do not trust that TikTok will ever embrace American values.”

For the next five and a half hours, Chew, who is Singaporean of Chinese descent, tried valiantly to distance his employer as well as himself from ties to China. During his five-minute opening remarks, Chew mentioned his Singaporean upbringing, his education in the UK and the US, and that his wife was born in Virginia. In response to questions of whether TikTok or its parent company ByteDance is “a Chinese company,” Chew was evasive: “What is a company that is now global?”

Chew’s responses, packaged in notably Americanized English, did little to assuage skeptics on the committee. Many lawmakers believe the short-video app is a weapon in disguise, developed by a foreign adversary to poison American minds and extract Americans’ data. One piece of evidence, repeatedly cited to corroborate the claim that TikTok is de facto spyware, is China’s National Intelligence Law. Enacted in 2017, the legislation states that “all organizations and citizens shall support, assist, and cooperate with national intelligence efforts.”

The focus on the Chinese government’s subpoena power as a unique feature of its authoritarian system overlooks the many ways American companies cooperate with the state. Local and federal law enforcement routinely utilize access to social media platforms like Twitter and Facebook, private security cameras, and cell phone networks to criminalize and surveil, at times without proper authorization. The sweeps have been directed against migrants at the southern border, people seeking abortion services, and Black Lives Matter protesters. On the other hand, Chinese companies like Alibaba and Tencent have refused requests from state agencies to hand over customer data.

The caricature of an almighty Beijing with absolute control feeds into the age-old misconception that the Chinese people are submissive subjects devoid of individual agency, who can only act out of national loyalty or political coercion, but never for personal interest or financial gain like their counterparts in the West. While the ruling party of China is nominally communist and maintains a Leninist structure, the country has been an integral player in global capitalism for decades. Yet, during the TikTok hearing, the word “communist” is frequently uttered, not to inform but to exoticize. The tone is reminiscent of an earlier era, when the United States claimed the holy mantle to save the colored masses of the world from the red menace.

TikTok is not a product of communism but of surveillance capitalism. As China moves from the margins to the center of global capitalism, the panic over Chinese espionage is inseparable from the apprehension about the West in decline. History repeats itself as Florida and several other states pass or propose legislation restricting Chinese citizens from purchasing property, citing security concerns. Similar excuses were used for the “alien land laws” in the early 1900s that barred Chinese and Japanese immigrants from land ownership. The spying allegations against TikTok and other Chinese products are often hypothetical: It’s not so much about what the companies have done or even what they can do; China is used as a foil to project American fears and desires. After all, the US military and intelligence agencies are pioneers in surveillance technology and foreign interference. As it was in the aftermath of 9/11, a perceived threat is used to justify massive expansions of executive power, which also include the ability to monitor and manipulate, both at home and abroad. The Senate bill to ban TikTok has been aptly called a “Patriot Act for the internet.”

To continue operating in the US under ByteDance ownership, TikTok has proposed to store American user data exclusively on US-based servers run by Oracle. The plan, Project Texas, is named after the state Oracle is headquartered in. The software giant, proudly American, boasts clients that include “all four branches of the US military,” the CIA, and local law enforcement. It has also marketed surveillance tools to Chinese police. Without universal data protection standards, the mere imposition of a national border around data does little to mitigate risk or reduce harm; instead, the border only helps determine who has the right to exploit the data and commit harm.

Oracle is one of the largest data brokers in the world. In a report released in June, the US Intelligence Community acknowledged that commercially available information, which “includes information on nearly everyone,” has reached a scale and sophistication on par with targeted, more intrusive surveillance techniques. The private data market is loosely regulated and open to all. US spy agencies are among its countless clients.

“Everyone is being surveilled constantly, but it’s always ‘Shoot the balloon!’ and never ‘Unplug Alexa.’” This line, delivered by comedian Bowen Yang on Saturday Night Live, encapsulates the quotidian reality of mass surveillance and the hypocrisy in official responses. After capitalism has commodified just about everything that sustains life—land, water, health care, to name a few, its latest site of extraction is life itself: our time, attention, movements, and presence. All can be captured, converted into data, and traded as commerce.

For years, this virtually unfettered transaction has benefited US companies and is aligned with Washington’s agenda. China’s economic rise, coupled with Beijing’s belligerence, has shifted this calculus. As US authorities place more restrictions on the transnational exchange of money, goods, information, and people in the name of security, at times in conflict with the demands of capital, the two superpowers increasingly mirror each other in their paranoia and protectionist stance. The Chinese government recently revised its anti-espionage legislation. The new law, which went into effect on July 1, broadens the definition of spying, grants the state more power to inspect facilities and electronic devices, and further limits foreign access to domestic data. Citing the new legislation, China’s Ministry of State Security proclaimed in a social media post that “Counterespionage needs mobilization from all of society,” while FBI director Christopher Wray has repeatedly stated that a “whole-of-society” approach is necessary to fight against threats from China. In Beijing's propaganda materials alerting Chinese citizens of foreign intelligence activities, the spy is routinely depicted as a white man.

The bodies we inhabit are never ours alone. In the age of surveillance capitalism, the bounds of our private existence are endlessly encroached on by the richest and mightiest of interests, who also dictate the terms of extraction and exploitation. In this uneven battle, privacy is more than an individual right; it’s a form of communal care. An encrypted message requires effort and trust from both the sender and the receiver. The decisions we make about seeing or not being seen also configure the spaces we move in; they affect how others see and are seen. To reclaim our sovereign yet porous selves, we must reimagine space—physical as well as digital, social as well as legal—and interrogate its many borders: around nation, race, gender, class, property and the commons.

What if safety is achieved not by violent organs of the state but through their abolition? What if we reject the false binaries proposed by status quo powers and choose liberation? What if, instead of imprisoning our identities within predefined labels, we refuse to be categorized? What if we make ourselves illegible to convention, corrupt the code, glitch the mainframe, and disrupt the ceaseless flow of datafication? A secret language opens up pathways to fugitive spaces, where an uncompromised presence is restored and alternative futures are in rehearsal.

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woednesdayaddams · 2 years ago

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♱ starter for @thvrpe

it’s irritating really, how she couldn’t remember meeting xavier before. perhaps she reached that age in which her mind was gradually weakening in power. such a shame, wednesday would’ve gambled for her early twenties and she would’ve lost dishonorably. parallel to innovative ideas for the next chapters of her book, she cannot elude xavier. first time her hawk vision landed on him, he was enamelling a raven on one of nevermore’s walls. as she stands there, before the wall, she reflects on a nursing rhyme her dearest mother used to tell her on those alluring rainy days when she was just a terrorizing mischief child. those lyrics taught her how to count to thirteen ﹘ and frankly, that’s when she stopped counting for a while. seeing thirteen crows alluded at the devil himself. that was until she atypically learnt there were furthermore bedevilled numbers she had yet to learn.

notwithstanding the fact she wouldn’t voice appreciation, ever for that matter, wednesday does recognize xavier was talented. she couldn’t envisage how the boy she once saved during a nefarious game of hide and seek had so much talent. she’s drawn to it. or, perhaps, it’s better to stare at a wall rather than approaching her roommate and sitting with her during breaks. when she turns her head, wide-eyed gaze falls upon the author of the painting she was staring at just a few moments ago. brows furrow as she begins to walk away from the painting and toward xavier. “i thought everyone sits at the pentagon during breaks.” she bluntly points out, feelings of humiliation that she had been probably spot staring at his creation swirling. “why don’t you?” she asked, curiosity prevalent.

#thvrpe #♱ interactions.#♱ wednesday + xavier ⸻ good things take time.#hiii tysm for liking my sc #hope this is okay!

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vietnam-official · 3 months ago

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five days after Morrison's death, Vietnamese poet Tố Hữu wrote a poem, "Emily, con" (Emily, my child), assuming the voice of Morrison addressing his daughter Emily and telling her the reasons for his sacrifice:

Emily, come with me Later you'll grow up you'll know the streets, no longer feel lost "Where are we going, dad?" To the banks of the Potomac "To see what, dad?" Nothing my child, there's just the Pentagon. Oh my child, your round eyes Oh my child, your locks so golden Don't ask your father so many questions, dear! I'll carry you out, this evening you'll going home with your mother…

Washington Twilight Oh, those souls That remain or are lost Blaze, blaze the Truth! Johnson! You fucker, your crimes accumulate All humanity detests The yellow demon upon this earth.

You cannot borrow the crimson waters Of God, and Buddha's yellow. McNamara Where are you hiding, asshole? In the burial yard Of a five corner building Each corner a continent You still squeeze your head Inside hot flames Like the ostrich buries its head in the scorching sands

Look over here! Look at me right now! Oh it's not only me with my little daughter in my arms I am Today And my daughter, oh Emily, you are Forever! I stand awake, With the great heart Of a hundred million Americans.

To flame, light up the horizon A light Of Justice.

Hey all you fuckers, pack of devils In whose name? You bring B52s Napalm, poison gas From the White House From Guam

To Vietnam To liquidate peace and national freedom To incinerate hospitals and schools Murder people who only know love Murder kids who only know going to school Murder green fields, four seasons of leaves and blossoms And even murder rivers of poetry, music and art!

In whose name? You bury the bloom of our youth in coffins

Oh, those strong, handsome sons Who can transform nature to into electricity, steel For people's happiness today!

In whose name? You bring me to dense jungles Spiked pits, muddy fields of resistance Villages that become fortress that disperse to reappear Nights and days where the heavens and earth shake and jolt Oh Vietnam, a strange land

To the children who become heroes To the wild bees who train to be warriors And the trees and flowers become weapons!

Go ahead and die, die All you jerks, a pack of demons And I ask that you listen, my America! To the voices of pain, of eternal hatred Of a child. Of a person of this century

Emily, oh child!

It's beginning to get dark… I can carry you no further When I ignite, light up as a flame Tonight, your mother will come find you You'll hug her and kiss Her for me And tell your mother this for me: I left happy, mother don't be sad! Washington

Twilight Remains or is lost? It's come, the moment when my heart's brightest I set fire to myself So the flames dazzle Truth.

Norman R. Morrison was an American anti-war activist. On November 2, 1965, Morrison doused himself in kerosene and set himself on fire below the office of Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara at the Pentagon to protest United States involvement in the Vietnam War, leading to his death.

On February 25, 2024, Aaron Bushnell, a 25-year-old serviceman of the United States Air Force, died after setting himself on fire outside the front gate of the Embassy of Israel in Washington. Bushnell said that he was protesting against "what people have been experiencing in Palestine at the hands of their colonizers" and declared that he "will no longer be complicit in genocide", after which he doused himself with a flammable liquid and set himself on fire

#free palestine #vietnam

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theyaremycrocsyoudonut · 8 months ago

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Thank you @anthruser for tagging me! I've never done one of these before so any and all corrections/recommendations are welcome.

🔠Name: I'm hiding my Tumblr account from a couple of friends so I don't want to say my name, but for the sake of brevity I guess you can call me Don (theyaremycrocsyoudonut haha get it ba-dum tssss)

🌀How do you pronounce your own Tumblr handle in your head? My username is a combination of the "what are those???" "They are my crocs" meme and Gordon Ramsay yelling at some poor wannabe chef and calling him a donut. So I imagine the crocs meme in a really angry Gordon Ramsay voice

🪟When you look out the window right now what do you see? The apartment complex beside mine. I wish I could see some trees though. Trees fuck

💼What is the most unusual profession someone in your family was in? I can't think of one that really stands out. Almost everyone in my family practices an "unusual" profession, but not like mind-boggling unusual, you know. My mother is a counselor for the ministry of immigration, specializing in securing EU programs and funding for the immigrants. My dad is responsible for the security of my country's equivalent of the Pentagon, I think it is the ministry of external affairs? My grandfather was the captain of various cargo ships and travelled the entirety of the world like 3-4 times, which for me is the coolest profession on the list. My other grandfather was a helicopter pilot and a meteorologist for the Air Force.

🎨What hobby were you really into as a kid? I was really into speedcubing. Then I continued to learn how to solve new cubes till I was about 16. I wasn't ever freakishly good at it but I was decent. My personal best at the classic 3x3 was 29.7 seconds and I intend to get into this hobby again when I finish my exams and lower it even more.

🔍First autofill Google result when you type 'How can I...? "How can I see who unfollowed me on Instagram" Turns out you can't unless you search for them by name

🎶If you were the main character in a sitcom, what song would be playing during the opening credits? Oraia tipissa I zoi- by Psycho(or by Akikloforita on Spotify)

🎬What's the last movie you watched? The Iron Claw. Holy fuck you cannot understand how much of a masterpiece this film was. It baffles me how it did not get a single Oscar nomination. Visually it was a masterpiece. I don't cry easily, but this movie had me slobbering like a 7 year old. Those few final scenes and the reference on ancient Greek mythology fucking broke me. 10/10 please watch this immediately or I will explode.

🎥What's your favorite movie genre? Whatever Tarantino makes (ik that as a person he sucks but his movies are FIRE) and the entire genre of "obsessed artist"(see Whiplash, I, Tonya, Black Swan and such)

🍿What movie would you recommend? I could go on forever but I'm going to try and be brief. All of the aforementioned films + Pour Things (an ode to absurdism), Babylon (truly an underrated gem), Eteros Ego (the best film of modern Greek cinema, an amazingly well put thriller and can be found on YouTube with English subs).

👯‍♀️Do your IRL humans know about your fandom life? Well, because of my inability to shut up they know about it. The thing is, I don't want them to see just how deep my shameless obsession goes. Which has created a problem, cause now they're BEGGING me to give them my username. I've promised to give it to them after our exams, so shout-out to R and T if they're seeing this then. Love you guys 🫶🫶🫶

🚣🏼‍♀️If you could do one activity with your pocket/fandom friends what would it be? We would go to John Wells's house and very kindly set it on fire <3. Then we would go for a picnic or something idk.

I don't know most of you personally, so I don't want to be annoying and tag anyone that doesn't want to be tagged. I'd love to get to know more about you all though so I have someone to tag in the future!

#shameless #tag game

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just-some-random-blogger · 4 years ago

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Bootylicious

Stray Kids Bang Chan x Idol!Reader Summary: You're known as the gym rat in your group, and quite frankly, you only have two moods: shredding or chilling. This was why when you're not asleep in between schedules, you're spotted with a male idol you happened to meet in the gym you were at that day. It's a known fact though, that you and Bang Chan are gym buddies and each other's spotter. Word Count: 2k+ Warnings: Internet toxicity, sasaengs, vulgar language, sexism, misogyny, pining, fluff, mentions of Pentagon because why not <3, etc.

A/N: Girl, i shouldn't do this but I did. It's so funny to me someone requested this cause I have recently become an exercise junkie lol. Also, if you can't tell, there is a pov shift after the cut so yeah. I also wanted to keep the reader gender neutral but I want to write about how psychotically different people treat male and female idols because that stuff aint it. It's most definitely not what anon was expecting me to write but I hope they enjoy it nonetheless.

There's compilation in YT with growing parts centered around you flexing your physical fitness and prowess. It ranges from you affectionally touring your fans, which really meant the cameraman, through the gym, introducing your trainer, and doing your routine on camera, to your group (and others) both fawning and bragging about how strong and how hot you are.

CLIP #1: A scene from an interview of your group in Japan, struggling to talk about how you can do 40 straight push ups.

There was a male interviewer in a suit you could all faintly recognize was talking about your recent Instagram post of a gym mirror selfie.

One of your youngest members smirked and in broken Japanese, cutely said, "Wah, she does 100 push ups! Everyday, every night."

You snap your head to the maknae and raise your brows, "nani?" You begin to shake your hands in protest and begin to explain your truth, "absolutely not 100. Maybe around 40, but nooooo, not 100."

The interviewer and your group comically react in awe. The man in the suit urges, "can you show us?"

You give a face, "Excuse me, but I'm not getting paid to do that in this miniskirt."

Everyone, including the film crew, break into laughter.

CLIP #2: A scene from a variety show where you had to prove you were, in fact, yourself, by doing a shortened version of your exercise routine.

One of the hosts of the show asks, "Wait, do you honestly do all of this in your workout? Like you can do all of it?"

The list of your exercises were written on a colourful cardboard, held by the one who just spoke. It was a range of exercises in 10 sets, from jumping jacks to sit ups, to vague sounding exercises like crab pinches and robot arms.

You purse your lips at the last question asked of you, not really liking the tone in which it was asked. You answer quickly and nod proudly, "I actually do more, cause when I get in the zone and I'm already really sweaty, I feel like I should keep going until my whole body burns." You chuckle.

The older hosts, tilt their head and mutter lowly under their breath something along the lines of, "I'd rather die."

You finally do the routine, quickly, continuously, earning impressed reactions from everyone.

"That's hot," one of the hosts note.

"Ya, for some reason it looks easy to do."

The hosts begin to clamour at that statement, and force whoever said to do the exact thing you did. Clearly, they don't work out as much as you do and cannot even get halfway through it without stopping.

You break out into a breathless laugh in amusement of the comical attempt but then protest, explaining how bad it is to force yourself to do more than you can

CLIP #3: Pentagon, Hongseok especially, fawns over how fit you are

Trailing a conversation about how your group is close with Pentagon because your companies are situated closely to each other and you wind up eating together a lot, there is an anecdote about how there was a jar no one could open, no one but you, that is.

The interviewer asks no one in particular, "wah, none of you could open the jar? Really? Or did you all just pretend so she could open it?"

There is a chorus of answers concluding with, "no really, she was the only one that was able to open it."

The story is backed up by how the jar had a really small lid and some hands were too big. Then came an explanation how you were recently into the new rock climbing machine in your gym.

Hongseok speaks up, "I was invited to go to rock climbing in, like, an actual rock climbing place and I was honestly so surprised when she began to climb. She said she never actually tried rock climbing on a wall, but it seemed like she had been doing it for years."

Shinwon agrees, "Right, right. I was also really curious about what they did that day," he points to Hongseok, "that I joined them one time. I never felt so out of shape in my life. I just stayed back and filmed everything."

Pentagon laughs, and then agrees that you were exceptionally fast and just super fit in all honesty.

The interviewer catches Hongseok's expression then suddenly asks, "do you like a woman like that?"

"Yeah, I like my women strong."

Then came a lot of teasing remarks from Pentagon, and a plethora of complaints from delusional fans who did not want Hongseok to ever breathe in your direction again.

With all that's been said about that, in all the parts of this series floating around in the internet, one thing remained, there was a slightly larger population of impressed fans than the still large portion of antifans who wanted nothing to do with it and only came around to hate.

It's hard not to think about it, but even the slightest back handed compliment can sometimes linger in one's mind.

And right now, as much as I kept my mind on my counting as I finished my set high knees, I couldn't help but think of how much backlash I got from posting a post workout photo with my midriff exposed.

Apparently that was not only enough to merit hate for being both a whore and an attention whore, but people baselessly began to hate on my groupmates simply for being associated with me.

It's kind of sad really, how, say Wonho, can post a fairly exposed photo of himself and get so much praise for it, and yet I couldn't even do anything remotely close to that.

And I don't even mean to come at Wonho, we all know he's a beast at the gym and should be able to show as much of his hard work as he is comfortable in showing, but why can't I?

"Hey trooper. I thought you said you were only doing 80 counts?" a voice cracks me out of my train of thought.

I turn to whom spoke and chuckle at myself as I stop my leg raises, "ah yeah, I got lost in thought, and your really good song."

I pull on my earphones and give a lopside smile, "I love working out to God's Menu."

He gives a soft, "he he, thanks."

"No need for a thank you when I'm only giving my honest opinion, Chan."

"Yeah, well still, it makes my kokoro go doki-doki," he sniggers, crossing his arms and flashing a dimpled smile. I raise my upper lip and reel back, "EWWW!"

I playfully shove him. He acts hurt, "this is violence against children."

"Chan, you're literally older than me."

"That doesn't mean I'm not a child at heart."

"You mean, it doesn't mean you're not a drama queen."

"Hey, I have no interest in having a throne, my only interest is," he leans in and whispers, "you."

I feel my soul leave my body as he snorts to himself and runs away. I regurgitate in surprise, "YA!"

"You better do your next set properly," Chan says heading off to a cable row machine, "I'm always watching."

I try to ignore the blood rushing up your neck, "creep."

He shrugs, "rather that or have you get injured, sweet heart."

Yeah, Chan has saved me from a lot of injuries I could have had. It was a bad habit. It stemmed from the same thing that made me mess up my count a while ago, my overthinking.

Sometimes I thought of rather harmless things, but sometimes I began to fixate on the hate I received for simply being. I do a lot to get my mind to realize that they hated me simply because they could and because it was easy. Exercising helped tremendously, especially when I had someone fun to work out with, especially when I was with Chan. He just... made me feel safe, y'know.

But when the news of us being work out buddies surfaced, a lot of sasaengs came for me. Of course, a lot of Stays and my own fans were really kind about, speaking out that we were our own people and exercising together did not mean anything in particular really.

But some really went for it, and made it a hobby to comment on everything I was in that I was a slut for 'working out' with different men every day."

I let out a breath as I finish my routine. I catch my breath and go for a swig of my water. I take a moment then sit down by the mirror, which was near where Chan was currently working out.

"You're doing it again."

I turn from where I was blankly staring at turn to Chan who gave me a soft look, "you good?"

I release a sigh then purse my lips, "maybe."

He pouts, "what happened?"

I shrug and stand from where I sat, "you know, the usual."

Chan then comes up to me and takes my water bottle from me, "you know, no matter how much people say you don't need water to live, you can never change the fact that you are extremely dependent on water to live."

I look at him and half- heartedly point, "are you calling me thirsty?"

He begrudgingly groans and releases a chuckle. He calls my name out in a scolding tone. I feel myself relax, "I know what you're getting at Chan."

He nods, "good. I'll always be here to remind you of that."

I smile and feel an urge to hug him, "if you weren't so sweaty, I would totally hug you right now."

Chan then gives me a look then does not hesitate to crush me into his arms. I groan and whine in protest. He chuckles, "you literally just said you wanted a hug!"

"YOU'RE LITERALLY SO SWEATY. NO ONE WANTS THIS TORTURE."

Chan huffs and gives a wounded look, "hmp. You better spot me while I lift or else I'm unfriending you."

"Hmm... I think I'll be good without you as a friend."

I half expect Chan to whine about it, but he instead smirks, "ahhhh, you must want me to be your boyfriends so badly huh."

I- I mean...

CLIP #4: A crack edit of Chan when he gets asked about his gym relationship with me in Chan's Room.

He was looking through the questions and suddenly chuckles, his ears noticeably began to redden. Cue a zoom in of his face and his red ears. Cue a clip of Cardi B saying, "that's suspicious."

He says my name then continues, "am I close with her? Yeah. I would say I'm close with her-- and her whole group actually."

Captioned: Nice save, Chris.

"The kids and I are close with her group," he says, clearing his throat.

A clip of him clearing his throat is repeated about ten times.

Chan adjust the beanie he was wearing as he thinks of what he was going to say next, "we actually do work out together a lot because she's under a trainer that works with my trainer."

Captioned: Sure, Chan. That's the only reason, right?

Chan catches another question, "Is she a beast in the gym like Hongseok says?" He breaks into a laugh. He then rubs his cheek and grits his teeth.

A clip of someone saying, "Oh he's jealous," flashes on screen.

"Yeah," Chan finally says, "she's got a really high stamina."

Cue the clip, WHAT DID HE SAY?

Chan continues, "she can go between exercises without stopping. she doesn't even take that much time to catch her breath. In fact, she sings while exercising sometimes, which helps make her vocals stable."

Captioned: Queen Tingz.

The next thing that happens is Chan breaks into a laugh and begins to chuckle. He says, "Sorry I saw a funny comment."

Captioned: WHAT HE MEANS IS HE SAW A COMMENT SAYING 'SHUT UP CHRIS, YOU'RE WHIPPED."

Then came these comments:

LITERALLY LOOK AT HOW FLUFFY BANG CHAN GETS WHEN HE TALKS ABOUT HER DONT FUCKING TOUCH ME MY SHIP IS ALIVE

They are dating period. prove me wrong. you cant

Chan literally blushes over anything, buT HE TURNED INTO A TOMATO WHEN HE TALKED ABOUT HER BYE

if you hate on your faves loving each other, you most definitely need Jesus (:

PLEASE CAN YOU SEE HOW WHIPPED THEY ARE FOR EACH OTHER

Yeah... it's not been confirmed to this day.

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acquariusgb · 3 years ago

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9/11 Hillary POV

It’s a sad day today as we remember 20 years since 9/11. Here is an extract from Hillary Rodham Clinton- A woman living history by Karen Blumenthal, talking about the events from that day.

September 11, 2001, was to be another historic day: First Lady Laura Bush was to testify about early childhood education before one of Hillary’s committees. It would be an unusual First Lady meeting. Hillary put on a bright yellow suit for the event.

She was on the phone with Ann O’Leary, her legislative director, when the first plane hit the World Trade Center. Initially, they thought it was an accident—until the second plane hit. At that point, O’Leary said, Hillary was sure it was a terrorist attack.

By the time Hillary arrived at work near the Capitol, a third plane had crashed into the Pentagon, and police were evacuating her office building. She met some of her nervous staff outside, where she tried to assure them that they would be okay and dispatched them to a staffer’s nearby home.

By then, police were trying to clear traffic, and Hillary got back in the car. One of Bill’s former advisers, Gene Sperling, happened to be nearby, and she offered him a ride. While the radio reported the grim news, Hillary frantically dialed her cell phone. First she tried to reach Chelsea. Now twenty-one and a Stanford graduate, Chelsea was staying with a friend near Union Square in Manhattan before she was to go to England for graduate school. Her mom knew she often went for a jog at that hour of the morning.

Hillary couldn’t get through. Next, the senator from New York dialed officials at the Federal Emergency Management Agency to ask about their response to the crisis.

“It was like watching her move back and forth from each role in her life minute by minute,” Sperling said. “Then suddenly, the radio announcer starts screaming, ‘Oh my God, the World Trade Tower has collapsed; oh my God, the World Trade Tower has collapsed,’ and suddenly the whole world came to a stop.”

The images of planes crashing into the towers had been horrible beyond words. But then the buildings came crashing down, killing thousands of people and remaking the famous skyline. Especially in New York City, people would look to their elected officials for assurance about their security and safety. Hillary was now on the front lines.

With so much still unknown, Hillary scrambled to get as much information as she could and to touch base with her family. She called Bill, who was in Australia for a speech. He was watching the destruction on television and wanted to know if Chelsea was okay. Though she didn’t know for sure, Hillary told him that everything was fine and not to worry.

Around the time that Hillary was calling, Chelsea had been in her friend’s apartment trying to reach her mother, but she couldn’t get through, either. Feeling an overwhelming need to reach her mom, Chelsea ran out to look for a pay phone, but there were long lines at each one. She returned to the apartment, and when her friend came back home, they followed the mayor’s advice and headed uptown.

Near Grand Central Station, people were panicking, yelling “Fire!” and “Bomb!” and running away from the terminal. Though there was no fire, Chelsea and her friend were frightened and crying. “For a brief moment I truly thought I was going to die,” she wrote later.

Chelsea was near Fiftieth Street and Madison Avenue when her mother finally got through. Just hearing her voice, Chelsea burst into tears.

After their conversation, Hillary called Bill again to tell him Chelsea was safe.

She also called Giuliani and the New York governor. She and the other New York senator, Charles Schumer, spoke with President Bush, getting his assurance that the federal government would help with the rescue process and New York’s rebuilding.

That afternoon, now wearing a more appropriate black suit, Hillary joined other senators at the Capitol Police headquarters, where they gathered to be briefed by Senate leaders. As the sun was setting, Hillary joined several hundred members of Congress on the Capitol steps. The leaders of both the House and Senate pledged their support, and called for a moment of silence. As they started to walk away, some members began singing “God Bless America,” tentatively at first, and then louder and stronger. When they finished, many lawmakers hugged. Hillary, the New York Times reported, was teary.

CNN sought her out for an interview just before President Bush was to speak to the nation. Hillary said she would stand behind the president—and she had strong language for the attackers: “Our country not only has to retaliate directly against those who perpetrated this attack, but we have to make it very clear that we cannot permit any state, any government, any institution, or individual to pursue terrorist aims that are directed at the United States or any country,” she said.

She said she expected many countries to unite behind the nation. “It’s not just an attack on the United States,” she said. “It’s an attack on everyone who cares about freedom and dignity and justice and humanity.”

After spending much of the long night on the phone, she joined the Senate the next morning to approve a resolution condemning the attack. That afternoon, she and Schumer flew from Washington to New York on a special Federal Emergency Management Agency plane. All other flights had been grounded the day before, after it was clear that four planes had been hijacked. (In addition to those that crashed into the World Trade Center and Pentagon, a fourth plane came down in a Pennsylvania field after passengers fought back against the hijackers.) On September 12, theirs was the only plane in the air, outside of Air Force fighters. At New York’s LaGuardia Airport, they boarded a helicopter to tour the damage.

The site of the World Trade Center was still smoldering and smoky as they flew over. As rescuers desperately searched for survivors below, Hillary could see the twisted girders and shattered beams where two stunning and enormous buildings had once stood.

“The TV images I’d seen the night before didn’t capture the full horror,” she wrote later. It felt like she was looking into “the jaws of hell.”

#hillary clinton #bill clinton #chelsea clinton #the clintons #book quote

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not-my-final-account · 1 year ago

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My O.C is Wings! She is also kind of like a persona for myself. I made her when I was 7 (so that’s when I consider she got her powers(she was just a regular girl before)) and have been building on her ever since so while I’ve tried to balance out her powers she is basically a god

My O.C’s bad is usually a rock ledge or some where out of the way and vaguely comfortable (or that’s what she tells herself) while on a mission, she has a really comfortable fluffy bed at home (she still lives with her parents) and night-dreams about some nights when she can’t sleep

My O.C has a triangle shape, she’s sharp (not like a square which is blunt) but kind (not like an pentagon which is mean/posh, or an octagon which is wise), in her childhood she was a kind innocent cloud with no defined shape.

My O.C’s favourite thing to do on a rainy day is to fly in and above the clouds that are raining

If my O.C was gifted a shiny rock, depending on who it was: she would be suspicious of it, sharpen it and make it into a special knife, or if she really loved them she would add it to a new necklace or tie it into her greenstone one

My O.C would barely manage to beat any gyms (still can’t beat Minecraft but knows all the glitches and techniques) but would try to collect ever evolution and type(or species, sorry I don’t play Pokémon) of Pokémon in the game.

My O.C would try all the classes, play a diffrent one each game and settling on her favourite, but she only really knows Ratatattat (it’s a card game that has loads of different names I think, we’re(again she’s kind of like a persona) quite good at it)

My O.C technically lives in the modern day, but can move through realities and time and is often gone on a mission. When home her favourite game is constantly changing, but when she’s playing with a friends it’s Minecraft

My O.C cannot stand her brother, she secretly loves him(not in a weird way) but is constantly arguing even though they actually agree on most (big) things

My O.C can understand all languages, a side effect of travelling through so many ‘places’ and her powers I suppose

My O.C is -1, she can (literally) burn air (I’m not even kidding, her wings can catch on fire (like she can pick up fire with her hands and breathe fire) which is cool and dramatic but annoying when working with gas ovens), she inherits this from me -the girl who made a bright purple chocolate cake

My O.C chooses weapons, spiralling out of the time limit and leaving the judges scared or fascinated over her explanation on rankings in war (to be honest I’d chose Star War, not a comparison, just wanted to add it here)

My O.C has all the powers in the world. Original, I know, I’ve tried to balance it out with an actually small (for once) dose of trauma, and lacking the training to control all of them. And no, she (again) technically lives in this universe, but they might be normal in some places she travels too.

My O.C can sing (but not in front of a crowd, or anyone for that matter), and she likes to draw although she considers that a hobby, mind you everyone (as in an ally, person she’s working for(she always chooses the good side), or friend) who manages too get a glimpse of her sketch book says she should be famous, she just takes the compliment and tries to steer the conversation away from her

Yes. Full stop, she might not have been born in the wilderness, but she has the rough training and skills to walk out of it (with mild hypothermia, which force knows how she managed to get)

My O.C LOVES the ocean, she enjoys swimming almost as much as she dose flying and is often called a fish, she tries to respect the sea and sometimes mutters Māori prayers when going on a boat to pay tribute to her heritage. She has remarkable sea legs for someone with their head in the clouds.

No. She tries, she really dose, but she can’t seem to get it right, often having to remind herself to even breathe, she has mild insomnia which is made worse by her mind(she sometimes goes to a dark place and it can be hard to drag herself out of it), she only really gets thirsty after activities and for all her health flaws she rarely ever has a problem with dehydration and when she dose it’s more because she’s stuck in the middle of a desert than its actually her fault. But eating on the other hand… she was always a picky eater, and while she will eat what she is served she rarely ever finishes it and often has (sometimes bad, other times barely noticeable) stomach aces from lack of food (on the topic of food, she has a sweet tooth but can’t stomach much sugar and breakfast is her favourite meal, but sometimes she has to skip it)

My O.C’s first choice is her Dad, he is someone who she knows will lead the way and someone who will protect her rather than her having to protect them, like she would a friend, she has a favourite cousin/best friend too, they grew up scheming pranks together and are inseparable when given the opportunity to be together, he makes her feel strong and brave.

Her family dying is her worse nightmare, but usually her nightmares are about bad feelings and instincts

My O.C acts at the first sign of harm to her family, she values them over herself and will not hesitate to hand herself over if she believed it would help them.

I don’t know what item she would bring, I suppose she would bring something spiral but I’m not sure

It would be her greatest failure, I don’t know what it is yet- but many people died and she can’t forgive herself, she often gets trapped in her own mind mourning it.

Same as above ^^^ I think it would depend, on one hand she tells herself not to mess with history, to change time, make the same mistake the people in the movies do, on the other hand she desperately wants to undo her actions to save those innocents (or, as anyone but her would say, herself in a way)

My O.C is convinced she is going to die doing something stupid, she’s probably right, to be honest the other options are: dramatic last stand, it’s 50/50 (no one tell her but there’s a third option that she becomes a god of sorts)

Depending on the situation, either saving as many people as she could, or with her family.

Yet Another OC Ask Game

After hoarding them for months, I decided to make my own. Let’s go from fluffy to angsty, shall we >:)

🛏️ What does your OC’s bed look like? What would they like their bed to look like?

🐁 Capybaras are friend-shaped. What shape does your OC have?

🌧️ What is the favorite thing for you OC to do on a rainy day?

🪨 Someone gifts your OC a shiny rock. What do they do with it?

🐹 Which would be your OCs favorite Pokemon? What kind of trainer would they be?

🎲 If your OC played a pen and paper RPG, what class would they pick? Warrior, mage, thief, ranger, cleric, paladin, druid, necromancer, bard (or other, if that’s not enough).

🎮 If your OC lives or would live in the modern world, would they like video games? What would be their favorite game?

👎 Is there someone your OC can’t stand, despite them being on the same side or sharing basic values?

🌈 Does your OC speak more than one language? If so, how many and which?

🥪 On a scale from ‘burns water’ to ‘5 course menu’ how well can your OC cook?

📚 Your OC has to improvise a 10 minute lecture about a topic of their choosing. What do they chose?

🪄 Does your OC have any special powers? If so, are they normal in this OC’s universe?

🎨 Does your OC have any craft skill, as a hobby or profession? If so which?

🌳 Would your OC survive for a week on their own in the wilderness?

🌊 Has your OC ever seen the ocean? If not, do they want to? What do they think of it?

🥞 Does your OC take proper care of themselves, like getting enough sleep and eating properly?

🤝 Does your OC have someone they want at their side when they are scared? Who?

🌌 If your OC has a nightmare, what’s it most likely about?

🪤 What is one thing that could be used to lure your OC into a trap?

🎒 If your OC had to pick three things of all their belongings to keep, which would they chose?

🕐 Was there ever a time your OC would have given everything to turn back the clock 5 minutes? What happened?

🎭 What is the one thing your OC regrets most? Would they undo it, considering how their life turned out?

🔪 What does your OC think how they’ll die?

📅 If your OC had one day left to live, how would they spend it?

#Wings

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oneisallallisone · 3 years ago

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All I Know, All I Know Greedling x Reader fic Chapter 3

In a land ruled by alchemy, there are some who would call you a sorcerer. You intend to understand what this means. Along your journey you end up getting mixed up with two strange brothers, a military conspiracy, a potentially world-ending event, and the avarice of something more than human.

Chapter 1

Read on AO3

_______________________________________________________________________

All I Know, All I Know

Chapter 3: What Is and What Isn’t

You, Edward, and Alphonse made your way to the Fifth Laboratory under the blanket of night. Standing in the shadows of a nearby alleyway, you surveyed the scene; a few street lamps were on, illuminating a quiet road and a ‘Keep Out’ sign that was posted in front of the laboratory. Also posted in front of the facility was an armed Central soldier.

“A guard stationed outside of a supposedly abandoned building,” Ed observed, low enough for only you and Al to hear.

You frowned. “Definitely strange.”

“So, how do we get in?” Al asked.

The three of you snuck closer to the wall that surrounded the laboratory, hugging one of the sides that was in the guard’s blindspot.

“We could use alchemy?” Ed suggested.

Al shook his head. “The light from the transmutic reaction would give us away.”

“Is there a way we could go over?” you wondered.

Ed studied the height of the wall. “Hey Al, give me a boost.”

Al cupped his hands together and flung his brother up to the top of the wall. Once there, Ed grabbed the barbed wire with his automail hand and cut a line to send back down to you and Al.

“You can hold onto me if you want to, so the wire doesn’t hurt you,” Al offered.

“That’s very kind of you,” you said, taking his hand.

Ed pulled the two of you up to the top of the wall and wasted no time jumping down to the lawn surrounding the Fifth Laboratory. Al leapt after him, somehow landing just as quietly as his brother. You doubted you could land as gracefully, having never been trained in any sort of martial art and not knowing the correct way to fall.

From the grass below, Ed looked back up at you. He raised an eyebrow.

Your power wanted to fly through your fingertips again. You could feel it; rising up to meet you as you were rising up to meet a challenge. With a calm exhale you jumped, and, right before you hit the ground, soft purple waves rippled from your hands and slowed your fall.

Ed almost had a smile on his face. “Nicely done.”

You nodded in thanks.

Al led the way to what appeared to be the front door, but the three of you found it was boarded up and blocked off by more rows of barbed wire.

“Man, they must be hiding something big in there,” Ed said.

Your stomach sank a little. The closer you got to the lab, the more it felt like you were sticking your nose in a place it didn’t certainly belong. Al pointed over to a grate embedded in the side of the building.

“There!”

On Al’s shoulders, the young state alchemist was able to pry the grate off the wall and toss it aside. “Al, you need to wait out here. (Y/n) and I can continue on.”

“You two will be fine?” Al asked.

“Whether we will or won’t isn’t really the question,” Ed said, already climbing into the duct. “You’re too big to fit in here.”

“Well I didn’t ask to get this big,” Al said, dejected, as he helped you into the crawl-space after Ed.

You and Ed crawled in silence for a while, nothing but the dark and a few cobwebs surrounding you. You’d never experienced a particular moment of claustrophobia before, but it was unnerving being pressed in on all sides like this.

“Damn it’s an even tighter squeeze than I thought,” Ed said. “If I was regular sized I probably wouldn’t even be able to get through.”

A tense beat of silence struck the air.

“DAMMIT I JUST CALLED MYSELF SHORT—”

“Ed!” you hissed. “Shut up! What happened to us ‘not getting caught’?”

“Right, oh, right. Sorry.”

A few moments passed before you and Ed came upon another grate, this one bolted to the floor of the duct. The alchemist kicked through it, and you and he jumped down into the hallway below. The corridor was almost as dim as the crawl space, save for some faint yellow lights along the ground.

“‘Abandoned building’ my ass,” Ed said.

“Do you think anyone’s here right now?”

“No way to tell for sure. Just stay on your guard.”

The energy you carried surged beneath your skin on instinct. “Right.”

The symbol on the ground was composed of circles and pentagons all nestled within each other. In the center was a cylindrical altar that bore more alchemic iconography. Blood, dark and crusted with age, was splattered in many areas around the large outer circle.

“What is all this…?” you asked, dull horror filling your core.

“I’m not sure,” Ed said. “But if I had to guess, I’d say it’s what they used to transmute a Philosopher’s Stone.”

“That is correct.” A third voice. From the shadows.

You and Ed turned quickly to see a figure emerging from a hall on the other side of the room. He wore heavy plate armor and a helmet covered his face. “I don’t know who you fools are,” he continued, “But you’ve figured out a lot just by looking at a transmutation circle.”

“Yeah, I’m just good like that. Who are you, pal?” Ed snarked back.

The man’s armor clanked as he spoke. “The one in charge of guarding this place from curious brats like you. Let’s just say my name is Number 48. And believe me, I am not your ‘pal.’ My orders are to dispose of anyone who ventures in. Try not to take it personally.”

“Alright, I won’t,” Ed said. He clapped his hands together and the blue light of an alchemic reaction flashed through the air. His automail arm extended into a large blade. “As long as you don’t take it personally when this ‘fool’ kicks your ass!”

“You’re an alchemist, are you?” Number 48 said. With speed you didn’t think possible, the armored man lunged towards Ed. It was like he crossed the span of twenty feet in the blink of an eye. “Let’s see what you’ve got, then.” He swung his massive two-haded sword high over his head.

In one motion, Ed pushed you out of the way and leapt backwards from the guard. He blocked the tip of the sword with his automail arm, and the knight stumbled back.

“It seems your automail just saved your life,” Number 48 said. “No matter, my sword can pierce steel as well as flesh.” He rushed at Ed again.

“Wait!” you screamed. Extending your hand forward, partially reaching for Ed and partially focusing your vitality, a violet blast of energy sprung from your hand towards the man in the armor. It struck him in the shoulder and he spun from the impact.

“Another alchemist?” he pondered, turning towards you.

Wide-eyed, chest heaving from the outburst of power, you shrugged. “Sure?”

Number 48 changed direction and charged you next. It was instinctive, what you did. Raising both hands in front of you like a shield, only to watch your energy take shape and mold an actual shield in front of you. The barrier was small, just barely enough to stop the guard’s sword from piercing your heart, but it held strong.

“No…” Number 48 said. “This is not alchemy. What a strange opponent you make, but how excited I am to fight someone like you.”

To your dismay, the sturdiness of your shield began to diminish as Number 48 dug his blade in harder. Nothing about the position of your hands and body had changed, so you weren’t sure why it was shrinking. But you clenched your jaw in the vain effort to keep it intact.

Ed landed a swift kick to the guard’s torso, knocking him away from you. You allowed your shield to fall. Gave yourself a brief moment to heave more air into your lungs. And then stood tall next to the fullmetal alchemist again.

“Have you seen something like this before?” you called to Number 48, despite your better judgement.

To your surprise, he remained where he was. “No. But I’ve fought enough alchemists to know what is alchemy and what isn’t.”

“Well, speaking of what people are and aren’t,” Ed interjected, “I’m gonna go out on a limb and guess that you’re hollow inside?”

“Very perceptive.”

“I could tell by the sound,” Ed said. “I spar against someone like you all the time.”

You turned towards Ed. “Wait, so you’re saying he’s—”

“Just like Al,” Ed nodded.

“So there are people like me on the outside?” Number 48 asked, a strange earnestness in his voice.

“Unfortunately.” Ed said. “It makes me sick to think there was another idiot out there who came up with the idea of bonding a disembodied soul to a suit of armor.”

“Perhaps I need to re-introduce myself, then,” the guard said. “48 was the number I was assigned when I was a prisoner on death row. Back when I had a living body, I was known as Slicer the mass murderer.”

“Tell me something, then,” Ed started. “Does this laboratory use condemned prisoners to make Philosopher Stones?”

“That I cannot tell you. I was simply recognized for my skills and appointed to be a guard dog of this place. Now then,” he shifted back into a battle-ready stance. “Which one of you would like the pleasure of being killed first?”

#fmab #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #fma #fullmetal alchemist #greedling x reader #edward elric #alphonse elric #greedling #ling yao #fma fic #fmab fic

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yuthoe · 4 years ago

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Day 14: Legally Blind (PENTAGON: Ko Shinwon)

hello hello! have another beating-the-deadline fic for May Trope Mayhem! the prompt for today is:

Day 14: Character has a Disability

which is like, kinda scary because i never want to unintentionally offend anyone with a disability, so i decided to just go with what im familiar with. i wear glasses and have a vision of 20/200, so just at the threshold of being legally blind, but my cousin's vision is like, 20/500 or something and she literally cannot see ANYTHING if she doesn't have her glasses on. as an added (pointless) challenge to myself, i typed this all out without my glasses lmaoooo and the typos were everywhere and im sitting way too close to the screen.

honestly, this didn't take too long to write. i think it's cuz it has no plot HAHA, which is my branding on this site i guess. but also maybe cuz shinwon is quite easy to write for

PAIRING: Ko Shinwon x reader. GENRE: fic, fluff, disability (poor eyesight). WARNINGS: none. WORD COUNT: 856.

---

Shinwon hears thudding from the other side of the door and stares, shoulders raised and ready to tackle someone if the door opens and you aren’t on the other side of it.

There’s a smacking sound from just beyond the door before your muffled voice calls out, “Shinwon? Is that you?”

He’s quiet for a moment, but replies all the same. “Yeah, it’s me! You all right in there?”

“‘M fine, just—,” you say, almost inaudible with the clacking of the locks so loud. The door finally opens and your head peeks out. “I broke my glasses and can’t see anything.”

“Aaahh,” Shinwon says, stepping forward and holding you by the shoulders as he passes the threshold, carefully guiding you back up to the wooden floors of the living area. Only when he’s sure you’re standing fine does he close the door and slip his shoes off. “Is that why you called me over?”

You nod. “Yeah, I can’t see anything right now, you’re just an orange blob with a black hat.”

Shinwon smiles with cheeks puffed out, knowing full well you can’t see it. “I’m not wearing a hat.”

“You’re not?!” you say, raising your hands tentatively. “You dyed your hair—when?”

Shinwon, used to you wanting to feel his hair, guides your palms to his dark brown locks. “Just yesterday. I was gonna surprise you with the new haircut, too, but you can’t really see right now, so that’s kind of a shame.”

“Aw man,” you say, messing up his hair to try to get a feel. The strands do feel shorter and his bangs no longer obstruct his eyes. “My glasses really had to break just when you got a new haircut.” You’re terribly near-sighted, vision well over what’s considered legally blind, and you even have a disability ID to prove it; the last time you went to get it checked, both eyes clocked at a whopping 20/400, and while it’s very inconvenient, you’re too terrified of getting laser surgery to correct your vision.

“Yeah, how’d they break anyway?” Shinwon asks, taking your hands from his hair and carefully steering you both towards the couch.

“I rolled over in bed and snapped it right in half. Like, my elbow landed right on the bridge and it just—,” you make a cracking noise and sigh. Shinwon guides you to sitting on the cushions as you pat around for an empty space. “I already called my optician and luckily my vision grade hasn’t changed much since my last check-up, so she said she’ll fit a pair for me I can get tomorrow.”

Your seeing-eye boyfriend hums. “M’kay,” he says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I’ll stay over tonight and go with you to the clinic tomorrow. How’s that sound?”

You turn to him and squint. “Really? You don’t have a schedule tomorrow?” His wide shoulder goes up and down in a shrug, and from this distance you can almost clearly see his pretty eyes—if you want to actually look into them and stare, you’d have to touch your noses together, and while that would be nice, because kissing Shinwon is always nice, it’s too much of a hassle. It’s that time of the year again when you kind of regret not being fond of contact lenses, however convenient they are.

“Babe, I’ll skip all my schedules to be your seeing-eye human, okay?” Shinwon says, and you have to laugh. “Well, maybe not all of them, but some. And I am 90% free tomorrow, so I can definitely go glasses shopping with you.”

“Awww,” you say, winding your arms around his waist to hug him tight. “Thank you, babe. Always my knight in shining armor.”

He snorts, amused and way too besotted at your cute actions to care that you’re hitting his tickle spots just right, and just smooths a hand down your back, presses a soft kiss to the crown of your head. “I mean, it’s more of a knight with two working eyes, to be honest, since you’re better than me at everything.”

You scoff, burrowing your face further into his chest and his soft cream sweater. “Don’t say that. You make a mean sandwich,” you say, and he laughs. “And I haven’t eaten yet, so you can prove your honor, Sir Shinwon, and go make us some.”

Shinwon looks down at you, smiling and eyes squinted, but of course you can’t see, with your face buried in his chest. “You know, I have a sneaking suspicion that you just called me over so I can make you food.”

Your head lifts, a mischievous grin and sparkling eyes meeting him. “Was I that obvious?”

Your boyfriend groans. “Aaaahh, you’re too cute! Fine, I’ll go make us some food. Just ‘cause you’re so cute.”

A laugh erupts from you and you move to give him a quick kiss on the lips, missing by a bit and pecking the corner of his mouth instead. Shinwon hurriedly corrects your aim and gives you another, before standing up and giving you express instructions to not leave the couch while he goes off to hunt for sandwich ingredients.

#kdiarynet #pentagon #shinwon #ko shinwon #pentagon shinwon #pentagon shinwon scenario #pentagon shinwon imagine #pentagon scenarios #pentagon imagine #shinwon scenario #shinwon imagine #fic: mine #fic: shinwon #fic: not spicy #theme: may trope mayhem 2021

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littlefreya · 5 years ago

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Prom Night

Summary: What happens when Sy’s daughter goes out on a date for the first time

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC (Jessica Gallagher)

Word count: 1k

Warnings: FLUFF

A/N: Extract from Lines in the Sand because I CANNOT LIVE WITHOUT THEM. Just how I picture Sy reacting to some teenage boy taking his little girl out on a date. Many thanks to my actual princess @agniavateira !!! Who edits my fics. Feedback and likes are always welcome 💕

Title: Prom Night

The pimpled boy stands in the doorway, tugging his oversized tuxedo and fixing his ginger hair with a sheepish look on his face. Colonel Syverson’s right eye slightly twitches as he stares down at the lanky teenager. His glare focuses on the bumfluff beneath his nose.

Asserting that he is the alpha, the large man reaches a hand to stroke the thick trademark beard on his face, lately decorated with a few grey hairs.

“You’re Tommy?” he asks, his deep voice almost barking as if he’s speaking to one of his soldiers.

Why the fuck did I agree to this? Oh yeah, it was the woman’s ridiculous idea to allow this.

The kid smiles slightly, contemplating if to correct the large menacing man in front of him or let him be. “Tobey, Mister Syverson Sir.”

“Colonel,” Syverson corrects him, his eyes looking down at the kid’s trembling sweaty fists. “Well, c’mon inside, son.”

With an obvious frightened look on his face, young Tobey walks into the house, anxiously trying to fix a stray curl that falls on his damp brow. Syverson remains by the door, shutting it behind the teenage boy with a loud thud.

A great smile paints his face as the kid slightly jumps at what can easily be mistaken as a gunshot. Syverson has a reputation around town, everyone knows Siobhán’s dad fought the war in Iraq and Afghanistan and now serves as a US colonel in the Pentagon. Not to mention her mom who is a former decorated military sniper, and now a police detective.

Oh yeah, everyone knows the Syversons. A family of hardasses. Obviously, taking Siobhán to the prom feels like a life-threatening experience. He was inclined to say no when she asked him out but she is the prettiest girl in school, with her cattish blues and that dimple in her chin. To be honest, he was more afraid of what would happen to him if he said no.

Tobey jumps again as Syverson’s large arm lands on his shoulder. “She’ll be down in a minute,” he says and begins leading him toward the living room. Colonel Syverson has a firm built and is taller than him by a few good inches. He makes the kid feel like a toddler as he guides him to what appears to be his little shrine of honour.

“See this, Randy?” he pauses in front of a white vitrine cabinet, eyes gesturing at the many medals hanging from a black velvet stand. “This is what being a man is about.”

“Yes, sir… Colonel.” Tobey answers, not even daring to correct Syverson’s obvious mistake.

“And this…” Syverson places his arm around Tobey’s shoulders again, leading him to a large locked glass cabinet that holds several rifles placed on a rack. His fingers play with the lock, opening the rack and after a short contemplation, selects a double-barreled shotgun. “..is how a real man defends what’s precious to him.”

Tobey swallows the gulp in his throat as Syverson holds the gun between his two large hands, directing it in front of the large screen TV before holding it back against his shoulder.

“But more than that, Timmy, being a man is treating a woman with respect and honour. So, if I hear that you, or any of your boys mistreat my precious princess…”

“Of course… s… Colonel!” Tobey immediately exclaims, earning Syverson’s sardonic smirk.

“You’ll have her back at 10.” He commands and places his hand on Tobey’s shoulder for the last time, his rough fingers digging into his bones.

They are distracted by a loud sigh as Jess finds Sy with his favourite shotgun pressed against his neck, barrel pointing to the ceiling. She shakes her head at him, giving him an obvious glare.

Sy shrugs at her, offering one of his famous cocky smirks which is then replaced by a frown as he sees his little girl, dressed in a black evening gown. Not a single shy bone is in that girl’s body. She walks forward, looking like a young actress attending an award show with a braid that half-circles the back of her head.

“You look handsome, Tobey!” she smiles widely, exposing a dimple at each side of her cheeks.

Damn brat, has her mom’s smile but her old man’s dimples.

But he can’t help but frown because it’s not him she’s smiling at, it’s that damn Tony boy. Syverson lifts his eyes to Jess, shaking his head at her with disbelief.

“You.. you... Look pretty too, Siobhán,” Tobey stammers, unsure if he should even speak as Syverson stands right next to him, breathing through his nose heavily.

“Go ahead kids, you’ll be late,” Jess speaks, pushing Siobhán toward the door.

Siobhán takes Tobey’s hand in hers, despite her father’s deep angry grimace. As the teenagers walk to the front together, she’s giggling with excitement and then throws her head over her shoulder, giving her dad a smile that immediately melts his tough heart.

“Be back at 10!” he barks at the door as the kids leave.

“Remind me why I agreed to that, woman?” Syverson asks while Jess walks next to him and leans against his body. She takes his big arm in her small hands, wrapping it around herself.

“Because you love me and you’ll do anything I’ll ever ask you to do.” She replies, tilting her chin up to look at her handsome husband. He stares through the window, watching his daughter walk into the car with that ginger kid, his face sulking with irritation.

“I swear to god, woman, if this scrawny ass ginger just as much touches her, I’ll…”

“Logan…” Jess stops him, putting her hand on his beard and playing with the grey hairs between her fingers. “I sent Lucas for a sleepover at the Harpers.”

Syverson lowers his gaze to look down at his wife, his face immediately becoming softer as his eyebrows crook up with mischief. “You did?”

“Yeah,” she raises her eyebrow back at him and licks her lips together. “We have the house to ourselves, daddy.”

“Well then, kitten.” He crouches down and then throws her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes while she giggles loudly. “Better get to work, Private, we have 4 hours and I intend to spend all of it on you.”

“Aye, aye, Captain.” she answers with a smile as he carries her up the stairs to their bedroom.

“It’s Colonel.” he corrects and lays a sharp slap on her ass.

Still tight even after all these years.

________________________________________________________

Disclaimer: I do not own Sand Castle or Captain Syverson

#Captain Syverson #Henry Cavill #Fluff #Captain Syverson Fluff #Captain Syverson Fanfiction #Henry Cavill fanfiction #Captain Syverson Fic #sand castle #Netflix Sand Castle #captainsyverson #henrycavill #captainsyversonfluff #Lines of the Sand

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ravioxhilda · 4 years ago

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Happy Four Year Anniversary!

Wow, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild is four years old already! Who would’ve thought March of 2017 was already that long ago? While I didn’t play Breath of the Wild until January of 2020, I will always be grateful for the fun times the game has given me, before and during quarantine. I have written a prompt with Mipha having amnesia and Revali helping her with it, which was meant to be short, but ended being around 4,000 words, though I hope you enjoy nevertheless!

“What has happened to my daughter?!”

Revali winced at the booming voice of King of the Zora, who was quite obviously distraught about his daughter.

Muzu, the King’s attendant, stood by his leader in the Throne Room of Zora’s Domain, the tranquil splashing of the waterfalls outside a polar opposite to the tense atmosphere within the room.

“The enemy had somehow infiltrated her mind and blocked off all of her memories with magic. We don’t...exactly know how he managed to do it, but I will help her get her memory back, whatever it takes.” He declared, glancing behind him towards the square.

Mipha was standing around looking utterly perplexed and in awe of her surroundings, which was painful for him to see as this was her beloved home she loved to sing praises for, now foreign and strange to her eyes.

King Dorephan followed his gaze towards the square and smiled sadly at the sight. How his Mipha would have loved to see Revali looking at her like that.

“Master Revali, I know you hold my daughter in high regard, but will you be able to carry through on your promise to restore her memories, if you cannot even determine what exactly has caused it?” He asked, causing Revali to snap his attention back to the problem at hand, nodding in affirmation.

“I care about her very much, I will do everything I can to bring her memory back. That is a promise.” He said, and Muzu snorted derisively.

“If anyone were to get our Lady Mipha’s memory back, it would be a Zora, not a Rito of all things.” He said, and both Revali and Dorephan glared at him, though Revali was more than willing to launch Muzu outside the Throne Room.

However, a warning look from Dorephan calmed his temper slightly, but Muzu smirked as he could see he had succeeded in riling him up.

“Now, now, there’s no need to get so flippant with our guest, Muzu. I have the utmost faith that Master Revali will restore Mipha’s memory, and we must assist in any way. Is that understood?” The King said firmly, and Muzu huffed but nodded.

“Yes, Your Majesty. I understand.”

Muzu then walked to Revali and held out his hand to him with his palm closed.

“This item here is an heirloom that has long been treasured by our kind, used as an engagement ring for the Zora Princess to her beloved in times past. Lady Mipha has been tinkering with it for quite a long while, so while it may not restore her memory fully, it may bring back a small portion.” He said, opening his palm to allow Revali to take the item.

Revali examined it closely, the heirloom turning out to be a gemstone, or three, as there were three pentagon-shaped sapphires connected by gold, the sunlight reflecting off the gems much like the sun reflects off the surface of the water.

He felt a soothing sensation emanating from the object as though he was being wrapped in a comforting hug, which made him desperately wish that he could hug Mipha right at that moment.

“Do you know what Mipha was doing with this?” Revali asked, and Dorephan shook his head sadly.

“I do not. She has had it for months after she disassembled the Zora Armor, though I know not why she has been focused on it. Perhaps she will tell you one day if she ever regains her memory.” He said sadly, Revali nodding as he pocketed the Zora Sapphire and bowed.

“I won’t let you down, Your Majesty.”

He then left the Throne Room, allowing Muzu the chance to huff as he walked out.

“Are you sure it is wise to allow a Rito of all people to help our dear Princess? She would be in better hands of a fellow Zora than an outsider.” Muzu said though Dorephan waved him off.

“My daughter loves that Rito with all her heart, regardless of whether or not she is ready to admit it. He may be the person she needs in her life to finally give her what she deserves, and will support any choice she makes. It is for the good of our people, Muzu.”

Revali soon arrived at the square where Mipha was waiting, Princess Zelda and Link beside her to make sure she didn’t wander off.

They both perked up when Revali arrived, though Mipha simply stared at him blankly with no recognition in her gaze, which sent a cold needle through Revali’s heart.

“What did the King say?” Zelda asked, and Revali sighed as he pulled out the Zora Sapphire from his pocket.

“He had me promise to restore Mipha’s memory, and his attendant gave me this,” Revali said, holding out the stone for Link and Zelda to examine.

“I cannot say for sure where I have seen this, but the shape is oddly familiar. Did they tell you anything about it?” She asked, holding the Sapphire to the sun as if the radiant light shining down upon them would give them the answers they needed.

“Only that it used to be what the Zora Princesses in the distant past used to propose and that Mipha has been messing with it in some way. Do you believe any of that information is relevant?” He asked as Zelda handed him back the Sapphire, though her thoughts seemed to be running rapidly in her mind.

“I do believe that information may have some relevancy, but I wouldn’t show it to her now. It is clear that she must have some sort of strong emotional attachment to this artifact, and we cannot risk stressing her brain when it is under the effect of such potent magic. Purah and Robbie are working on technology to restore her memory, though it may take quite a while.”

Revali sighed dejectedly as he pocketed the stone, turning instead to face Mipha, the one he cared so much for not even able to recognize his face anymore.

“Mipha?”

She turned to look blankly at him, though her face held no recognition.

She felt as though this place she was in was...familiar, though she couldn’t quite place why, and the people around her seemed familiar as well, especially the blue-feathered one that stood before her.

The Zora supposed that Mipha was her name, but no recollection of any of the other’s names came to mind, not even with the overwhelming feeling of familiarity towards them all.

“Yes? Is something wrong?” She asked politely, and Revali could have smiled at the fact that even though she may not have her memories, her sweet graceful nature was still present.

“No, nothing is wrong, but do you recognize this place at all? Do you recognize any of us?” He asked, and Mipha shook her head sadly as a feeling of guilt began to form, weighing down her heart.

“This place does seem...familiar, but I know not why, and I know that I feel very strongly about this place and you three, but the reasoning escapes me. I apologize for not knowing more.” She said, Zelda and Revali looking at each worriedly before Zelda placed a hand on her shoulder, a reassuring expression upon her face.

“It is alright if you cannot remember, it is not your fault. We’ll be here to help you, I swear.”

Zelda then turned to speak with Revali, holding out the Sheikah Slate to him.

“Link and I must return to Hyrule Castle to speak with Robbie and Purah and see if they have made any progress with restoring Mipha’s memory. Will you be alright in taking care of Mipha until we return?” Zelda asked worriedly, Revali waving a wing to brush off any concern.

“Princess, I know Zora’s Domain as well as my own home, and Mipha even better. I’ll do my best to show her any places that may jog her memory and that she doesn’t get killed in the process by the monsters around here.” He said reassuringly, though it did little to ease Zelda’s worries but she nodded nevertheless.

“We’ll be back as soon as we can. Take her to any places you think may displace the magic infecting her brain and restore her memories.”

Zelda then reached out to tap away at the Sheikah Slate, and within the blink of an eye, Zelda and Link were gone, transported away by the stone tablet’s mysterious technology.

Revali was relieved he didn’t have to travel by Sheikah Slate at that moment. While Zelda had sworn up and down that utilizing the ancient tech was the best way to keep the enemy on their toes, Revali much preferred to travel by his own two wings.

He turned to see Mipha staring placidly at him, causing him to sigh as he hooked the Sheikah Slate onto his waist. There was no doubt in his mind that restoring her memories would take some time and serious effort, so he decided it would be best to start right away.

“Mipha, I’m going to show you around Zora’s Domain, and you can meet everyone here and see the sights. How does that sound?” He asked, causing her to raise her hand to her chin as a show of thought, which Revali had always found so endearing, happy to see that particular mannerism hadn’t faded.

“That sounds...interesting. Where did you want to take me first?” She asked, and Revali thought for a moment, before pointing towards the Throne Room.

“It is customary for any guests to Zora’s Domain to meet with King Dorephan. Perhaps we should start there?”

Mipha nodded with a small smile on her face as she held out her hand to Revali, an impulse that she hadn’t even thought about, but it felt...right.

“Shall we go then?” She felt herself asking, Revali staring at her with a moment of shock. She hadn’t reached out to him since losing her memories, but here she was, smiling at him with her hand outstretched.

He returned the smile and gently took ahold of her hand, the both of them feeling a bit more at ease once they touched.

“Of course, My Lady.”

~~~

The entire day at Zora’s Domain had been spent with Revali showing Mipha around, her eyes taking in all the wonder of a home she did not remember.

If one did not know better, it may have seemed that the Zora Princess and the Rito Champions were merely sightseeing all around Lanayru, in the way they carried a conversation with seemingly little effort, even with Mipha’s memories gone.

Mipha looked around their surroundings, the area so achingly familiar but yet the reasoning why was out of reach, how she so wanted to know why she knew this place.

However, she couldn’t complain about holding the strange blue-feathered one’s wing, the feathers plush against her palm as he led around, acting as a sort of guide for her, which she was grateful for.

The two had soon descended the pathway from Zora’s Domain and were met by a pack of pesky Lizalfos roasting fish over a fire by the river.

Revali had dispatched of them easily with his bow, displaying marksmanship that Mipha had never seen before, and while she wanted to congratulate him on his obvious skill, she still could not quite figure out his name and did not want to ask him, lest she make things awkward between them.

The two Hylians that had spoken with her a few hours before were friendly towards her, though both of them seemed quite awkward for a reason she could not quite pinpoint, and the others the feathered one had mentioned had yet to show themselves.

Revali looked back at Mipha to see her staring at him with awe, a look he would never get tired of seeing from anyone, but was slightly relieved to see it from her.

“Are you alright?” He asked, Mipha nodding, her face starting to grow warm as he looked at her with that smile. She had a feeling she had felt this way before about him, but when?

“I-I’m fine. Thank you...for defending me.” She mumbled, causing Revali to smirk as he placed his bow back on his back. Her personality from before was shining through, he could tell.

“I was glad to be of assistance, My Lady. Shall we be on our way?” He asked though something had caught Mipha’s eye, passing by Revali as she reached out towards it.

One of the fallen Lizalfos had been brandishing a Zora Spear as its weapon, and though Mipha did not know why, she felt a connection to the weapon, as though she and it were one and the same.

She picked it up from the ground, marveling at the spear’s beauty and elegance as she ran her hand up the long metal pole that made up the majority of the weapon.

“What is this?” She asked, and Revali grinned as he saw her examining the weapon closely. It seemed that even with a wiped memory, her love for spear fighting could never be erased.

“That is a Zora Spear, a weapon typically used by those in the Zora Guard, albeit low-ranking soldiers. What do you think of it?”

She turned away from the spear and smiled at Revali once more, clutching tightly onto the weapon in her hand, as if she was afraid that if she let go of the weapon, it would just disappear.

“It is magnificent. I believe I’ll hold onto it, at least for now. Who knows what other monsters we may encounter?” She said and though it was a sound argument, Revali wondered if she remembered how to use the spear from years of fighting with her trident, or if she did indeed just think it was pretty.

“That is a good idea. Here, I know of one last place I can take you, it has the most widespread view of Lanayru that you will ever see.” He said, kneeling onto the ground, though Mipha was slightly confused.

“What would you like me to do?” She asked, and Revali sighed as he held out his wing to her.

“I’m going to fly us there. Is that alright, My Lady?”

Mipha nodded hesitantly, placing the spear in a holster on her back and took his wing, allowing him to pull her closer though he let go as he instructed her on how to position herself and where to hold onto him. She did it with ease as if she had gone through this process so many times.

“Are you ready?” Revali asked as he looked behind him to see Mipha still shifting around on his back before settling into place and nodding.

“I am. Let’s go.”

Revali nodded in affirmation, pressing his wings firmly into the ground to activate his Gale, before pushing off and launching the both of them in the air.

He felt Mipha scream as she held tightly onto him, and he felt as if he was having a flashback to the first time he had taken her flying.

Mipha was terrified out of her mind from the sudden jump into the mid-air, the only comfort being to bury her face in the Rito’s neck, the feathers providing her a slight escape from the high drop beneath her.

Revali supposed that it would make sense that amnesiac Mipha would be more scared than the Mipha he had known, she had trusted him to not drop her but that was formed over time, which he and the Mipha now did not have anymore.

She wasn’t panicking though, which Revali was appreciative for. A flailing passenger was the last thing he needed, but her silence worried him.

“Are you alright?” He asked, and Mipha nod against his neck as she cautiously lifted her head from where she was hiding, suddenly in awe of the view.

“I’m...fine. This region is so beautiful, how did you know it was here?” She asked, and Revali looked away, a sad look upon his face.

“I knew it because...you invited us all here before, me, Daruk, Urbosa, Zelda, Link, to help defend it against Calamity Ganon. I was in awe of how beautiful it was, and I thought...even though you don’t have your memories, you’d still like to see what your home looks like.”

Mipha looked at him worriedly as she buried her face again into his neck.

The two soon arrived at the top of the highest point in Lanayru: Ploymus Mountain.

Revali softly landed on the ground, allowing Mipha to change clamber off his back, though she seemed to hesitate as she did. Something was wrong with this place, but she did not yet know why.

Revali sensed something was off as well, causing him to pull out his bow from its holster into his hands, just in case something amiss did occur.

“Here, the edge of the mountain is just a little ways away. I didn’t want to get too close to the edge so we landed here instead.” He said, and Mipha nodded.

“Of course, that is sensible. Could you...lead the way? I have a feeling I’ve been here before, but something feels wrong. Perhaps I’m just imagining things?” She said nervously, pulling out her spear and holding onto the handle tightly, afraid that someone would attack.

“Alright then. Follow me.” Revali said as he began walking towards the main part of the mountain, Mipha trailing behind him.

Shock arrows were lodged in trees, rocks, even the ground, small sparks of electricity crackling around the magical tip of the arrow.

Suddenly, Mipha felt a memory slip in between the cracks, and she suddenly realized why the place felt wrong.

“Look out!” She yelled, and Revali turned to see a Lynel aiming an arrow directly at his chest. He cursed to himself for being so careless, how could he have forgotten there was a Lynel?

“Mipha, get away from here! This thing has shock arrows!” Revali yelled, nocking an arrow in his bow and launching it at the Lynel.

The Lynel stumbled back as it howled in pain as the arrow landed in its head, causing it to drop the Shock Arrow it was about to shoot at Revali, though it immediately readied another arrow.

Mipha could only stare in shock as Revali launched himself into the air, shooting flurries of arrows at the beast, somehow managing to dodge each arrow that went arcing through the air straight at him.

Every cell in her body was telling her to run, to get away from the electricity-wielding monster because she knew that one shot from it would prove to be fatal.

But she couldn’t just leave him. He meant something to her, but she didn’t know why. She so desperately wished she knew why.

A name came to her suddenly, with a kind smile and those green eyes looking back at her so endearingly. Those feathered wings holding her close as she felt tears run down her face, him whispering to her that everything would be alright, that he would always be there for her.

“Revali!”

Revali froze, turning to see Mipha reaching out her hand towards him, but he could still hear her voice calling his name in his head, reverberating and bouncing around. He was shocked.

“You...you remember my name?” He asked, and Mipha nodded hesitantly, the way he was looking at her making her feel all warm inside.

However, the Lynel saw Revali’s distraction as an opening and charged forward at full force, its sword ready to strike.

Revali heard the triumphant howl of the Lynel and could only watch in horror as it ran towards him, its sword aimed at his head.

“No!”

As if it was slow motion, Mipha ran past him with her spear raised, holding the pole between her and the beast, leaving Revali in shock.

Revali saw something shining in his pocket, pulling it out to reveal the Zora Sapphire, and he could see that Mipha was slightly glowing.

However, the Lynel was still barreling at them so he pocketed the stone once again, though he made a note to ask Mipha about it later.

“Mipha, what are you doing? This thing could kill you in five seconds just by shooting you with a Shock Arrow. It’s too dangerous!” Revali demanded as the Lynel slammed down on the pole, its curved sword trapped around the thin pole.

Mipha used the moment of weakness and pushed all her strength into pushing the spear towards the Lynel, causing it to stumble backward as it lost balance from being shoved so suddenly.

“If you think that I would abandon you while we’re facing a Lynel, then you would be terribly wrong. I’m not leaving you behind.” Mipha said, twirling her spear until the pointed tip of the weapon was aimed at the Lynel.

Revali smiled as he readied three arrows and nocked them in his bow as the Lynel regained its balance, quite angry that its target was taken from it by a tiny Zora.

“Did you regain your ability to fight, because your spear-wielding skills would be quite nice right about now?” Revali asked, and Mipha grinned and nodded.

“I never lost the ability to fight, my mind may have taken all my memories away but it could never take my spear fighting away. You cover me while I try and find its weak point and not get shot by Shock Arrows. Keep it distracted.” Mipha ordered, and Revali grinned as he knelt to ready his Gale.

“Your wish is my command, Princess.” He said with a smirk, waiting for Mipha’s signal.

She made eye contact with him and nodded before speeding towards the Lynel, Revali already up in the air and circling above her.

Revali had already begun raining down arrows upon the Lynel, though allowing enough time for Mipha to zip in between them and end up underneath the belly of the beast, a very dangerous place to be while fighting a Lynel.

The Lynel itself was not happy about being shot at with arrows and readied its own bow to shoot at Revali. However, Mipha aimed her spear upwards and thrust the weapon into its stomach, causing it to howl in pain once again as it dropped its bow.

Mipha pulled the spear from the Lynel’s body and ran out from underneath its body before she could get stomped by its hooves, though it allowed Revali the perfect time to aim his bow and shoot a bomb arrow at its head.

The arrow exploded as soon it landed in the Lynel’s head and when the smoke cleared, the beast had already begun dissolving into a pool of Malice, a defeated look upon its face before it disappeared completely.

Mipha could only stare in shock at what she had done as Revali cautiously landed beside her, though it wasn’t because of the now-dead Lynel.

“Mipha?”

She turned to see Revali standing beside her, though he seemed a little nervous.

“Revali, is something wrong?” She asked, and he nodded hurriedly, though she could see tears welling up in his eyes before he quickly wiped them away.

“Did you...did you regain your other memories?” He asked, and Mipha thought for a moment before sadly shaking her head.

“I have not regained memories about anything else, but I remember some things about you.” She said softly, reaching her hand out to him as he pulled her towards him, as though this was something that came naturally to them. Perhaps it was.

“What do you remember about me?” He whispered, and Mipha giggled as she placed her arms around his neck as he held her up closer to him.

“I remember that you are the greatest archer in this entire kingdom, even better than Link, and that you would always take any chance to show it. I remember you care so deeply about your home and our fellow Champions, even though you never showed it or expressed it directly. I remember that I have been working to imbue my healing power within a Zora treasure from ages past to help you in times of need. But I also remember one more thing.”

Revali shuddered as he could feel her breath tickling his skin even through his feathers, her voice giving him butterflies.

“And what is that?” He asked, and Mipha smiled as she moved back enough to look him into the eyes, placing both her hands on both sides of his face, wiping away the tears from his face.

“I remember that I love you, with all my heart and everything in my being.” She said, leaning upwards to kiss the tip of his beak, though Revali was shocked.

He had never expected to hear those words from anyone in his life, but here Mipha was, saying what he had always desperately wanted to hear.

“I love you, too.”

#miphvali #mipha #revali #revamiph #mipha x revali #revali x mipha #happy anniversary #happy breath of the wild anniversary

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cosmojjong · 3 years ago

Note

for that kpop ask thing! shinee, beast/highlight, btob

hi!! just by this question i am assuming you're a 2th gen stan like me hsjd

[if i stan] shinee

favorite member / bias line: jonghyun! 🥺 i noticed i tend to have soft spots for other members like rotating from time to time though. everyone in shinee is so lovable.

which member I’d fight (& why): i am such a little sh*t for shinee that my instinctual answer would be none. but i would fight minho for being too sexy! not his fault but he is so sexy in front of my face and why!!!!! just kidding

favorite song(s): here i would have to list almost shinee's entire discography 😭 right off the top of my head, i would say colors of the season, moon river waltz, selene 6.23, trigger, y si fuera ella, password, feel good, don't stop, orgel, romance, the name... and i know i LOVE all of their ballads.

favorite thing about the group: the strength that they give me when they just exist. the way they stand on stage and instill in me that power and passion they have for what they do. it really makes me want to follow my dreams more sincerely and with more belief, dedication and faith.

something i’d like to see from them: um. i feel like they experimented with and tried a lot of things through time that i thoroughly enjoyed, but i would like to see them trying like full on rock (like the rock versions of some songs at their concerts, you know). i know little taemin would be pleased to. this is just me being an old band enthusiast still having a thing for the genre and i am sure shinee would nail it, because it's shinee.

beast/highlight: i genuinely don't know where to place them because my knowledge of them is a mess, i feel like i know them and don't know them at the same time 😭 sorry to my bestfriend because i know she was a huge fan. i don't think i am familiar enough to answer the questions but i remember listening to 'on rainy days' thanks to pentagon covering it on pentagon maker and i loved it. i am sorry anon jshsjsj i probably saw more but that was a long time ago and now i cannot remember much. on a side note i like yoseob's music so yeah.

[if i'm familiar] btob

favorite member if I have one: never picked but for some time i liked minhyuk! still think he's my favorite. i liked that recent photoshoot he had with the cool face make up, don't know what it was for!

favorite song(s): i have never gotten into their entire discography properly. i have a lot of their tracks saved on my spotify but cannot remember what most sound like 😭 so im gonna have to be that person and say that missing you and outsider will always do it for me.

why I don’t stan (yet) / if I want to: mmh, once again if i don't feel a special way about a group when i first see them it's not going to change. but it's fine! i always liked them and kept up from afar and because i fully stan pentagon i have seen different news and interactions over time and i prefer it like that!

question for veteran fans: none i believe! im boring haha

💌 send me a kpop group and I’ll answer!

#anon #ask

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 3 years ago

Link

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

August 27, 2021

Heather Cox Richardson

America is in a watershed moment. Since the 1980s, the country has focused on individualism: the idea that the expansion of the federal government after the Depression in the 1930s created a form of collectivism that we must destroy by cutting taxes and slashing regulation to leave individuals free to do as they wish.

Domestically, that ideology meant dismantling government regulation, social safety networks, and public infrastructure projects. Internationally, it meant a form of “cowboy diplomacy” in which the U.S. usually acted on its own to rebuild nations in our image.

Now, President Joe Biden appears to be trying to bring back a focus on the common good.

For all that Republicans today insist that individualism is the heart of Americanism, in fact the history of federal protection of the common good began in the 1860s with their own ancestors, led by Abraham Lincoln, who wrote: “The legitimate object of government, is to do for a community of people, whatever they need to have done, but can not do, at all, or can not, so well do, for themselves---in their separate, and individual capacities.”

The contrast between these two ideologies has been stark this week.

On the one hand are those who insist that the government cannot limit an individual’s rights by mandating either masks or vaccines, even in the face of the deadly Delta variant of the coronavirus that is, once again, taking more than 1000 American lives a day.

In New York, where Mayor Bill de Blasio has required teachers to be vaccinated, the city’s largest police union has said it will sue if a vaccine is mandated for its members.

In Texas, Governor Greg Abbott on Wednesday issued an executive order prohibiting any government office or any private entity receiving government funds from requiring vaccines.

In Florida, Governor Ron DeSantis has also forbidden mask mandates, but today Leon County Circuit Judge John C. Cooper ruled that DeSantis’s order is unconstitutional. Cooper pointed out that in 1914 and 1939, the Florida Supreme Court ruled that individual rights take a back seat to public safety: individuals can drink alcohol, for example, but not drive drunk. DeSantis was scathing of the opinion and has vowed to appeal. Meanwhile, NBC News reported this week that information about the coronavirus in Florida, as well as Georgia, is no longer easily available on government websites.

On the other hand, as predicted, the full approval of the Pfizer coronavirus vaccine by the Food and Drug Administration has prompted a flood of vaccine mandates.

The investigation into the events of January 6, when a mob stormed the U.S. Capitol to overturn the results of the 2020 presidential election, also showcases the tension between individualism and community.

Yesterday, after months in which Republicans, including former president Donald Trump, called for the release of the identity of the officer who shot Capitol rioter Ashli Babbitt, Capitol Police officer Lieutenant Michael Byrd, the 28-year veteran of the force who shot Babbitt, gave an interview to Lester Holt of NBC News.

Right-wing activists have called Babbitt a martyr murdered by the government, but Byrd explained that he was responsible for protecting 60 to 80 members of the House and their staffers. As rioters smashed the glass doors leading into the House chamber, Byrd repeatedly called for them to get back. When Ashli Babbitt climbed through the broken door, he shot her in the shoulder. She later died from her injuries. Byrd said he was doing his job to protect our government. “I know that day I saved countless lives,” Byrd told Holt. “I know members of Congress, as well as my fellow officers and staff, were in jeopardy and in serious danger. And that’s my job.”

The conflict between individualism and society also became clear today as the House select committee looking into the attack asked social media giants to turn over “all reviews, studies, reports, data, analyses, and communications” they had gathered about disinformation distributed by both foreign and domestic actors, as well as information about “domestic violent extremists” who participated in the attack.

Representative Jim Banks (R-IN) immediately responded that “Congress has no general power to inquire into private affairs and to compel disclosure….” He urged telecommunications companies and Facebook not to hand over any materials, calling their effort an “authoritarian undertaking.” Banks told Fox News Channel personality Tucker Carlson that Republicans should punish every lawmaker investigating the January 6 insurrection if they retake control of Congress in 2022.

Biden’s new turn is especially obvious tonight in international affairs. The U.S. withdrawal from Afghanistan, a country we entered almost 20 years ago with a clear mission that became muddied almost immediately, has sparked Republican criticism for what many describe as a U.S. defeat.

Since he took office, Biden has insisted on shifting American foreign policy away from U.S. troops alone on the ground toward multilateral pressure using finances and technology.

After yesterday’s bombing in Kabul took the lives of 160 Afghans and 13 American military personnel, Biden warned ISIS-K: "We will hunt you down and make you pay.”

Tonight, a new warning from the State Department warning Americans at the gates of the Kabul airport to “leave immediately” came just before a spokesman for CENTCOM, the United States Central Command in the Defense Department overseeing the Middle East, announced: "U.S. military forces conducted an over-the-horizon counterterrorism operation today against an ISIS-K planner. The unmanned airstrike occurred in the Nangarhar Province of Afghanistan. Initial indications are that we killed the target. We know of no civilian casualties."

Biden’s strike on ISIS-K demonstrated the nation's over-the-horizon technologies that he hopes will replace troops. Even still, the administration continues to call for international cooperation. In a press conference today, Pentagon Press Secretary John Kirby responded to a question about U.S. control in Afghanistan by saying: “It’s not about U.S. control in the Indo-Pacific. It’s about protecting our country from threats and challenges that emanate from that part of the world. And it’s about revitalizing our network of alliances and partnerships to help our partners in the international community do the same.“

Meanwhile, this afternoon, news broke that the Taliban has asked the United States to keep a diplomatic presence in the country even after it ends its military mission. The Taliban continues to hope for international recognition, in part to claw back some of the aid that western countries—especially the U.S.—will no longer provide, as well as to try to get the country’s billions in assets unfrozen.

A continued diplomatic presence in Afghanistan would make it easier to continue to get allies and U.S. citizens out of the country, but State Department spokesman Ned Price said the idea is a nonstarter unless a future Afghan government protects the rights of its citizens, including its women, and refuses to harbor terrorists. Price also emphasized that the U.S. would not make this decision without consulting allies. “This is not just a discussion the United States will have to decide for itself.… We are coordinating with our international partners, again to share ideas, to ensure that we are sending the appropriate signals and messages to the Taliban,” he said.

Evacuations from Afghanistan continue. Since August 14, they have topped 110,000, with 12,500 people in the last 24 hours.

Perhaps the news story that best illustrates the tension today between individualism and using the government to help everyone is about a natural disaster. Hurricane Ida, which formed in the Caribbean yesterday, is barreling toward the U.S. Gulf Coast. When it hit western Cuba today, it was a Category 1 storm, but meteorologists expect it to pick up speed as it crosses the warm gulf, becoming a Category 4 storm by the time it hits the U.S. coastline. The area from Louisiana to Florida is in the storm’s path. New Orleans could see winds of up to 110 miles an hour and a storm surge of as much as 11 feet. Louisiana officials issued evacuation orders today.

The storm is expected to hit Sunday evening, exactly 16 years after Hurricane Katrina did. But this time, there is another complication: this is the very part of the country suffering terribly right now from coronavirus. Standing firm on individual rights, only about 40% of Louisiana’s population has been vaccinated, and hospitals are already stretched thin.

Today, President Biden declared an emergency in Louisiana, ordering federal assistance from the Department of Homeland Security and the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) to the region ahead of the storm, trying to head off a catastrophe. The federal government will also help to pay the costs of the emergency.

—-

Notes:

https://www.rev.com/blog/transcripts/pentagon-officials-hank-taylor-john-kirby-press-briefing-transcript-august-27-afghanistan-update

https://www.cnn.com/2021/08/27/weather/tropical-storm-ida-friday/index.html

https://apnews.com/article/health-louisiana-coronavirus-pandemic-1a2264b5a43033ed70fe9790c2e89437

NYPD story is from the New York Post, but a citation from them always stops the delivery of lots of letters, so I’m going to suggest people look for it themselves.

https://gov.texas.gov/uploads/files/press/EO-GA-39_prohibiting_vaccine_mandates_and_vaccine_passports_IMAGE_08-25-2021.pdf

https://www.whitehouse.gov/briefing-room/statements-releases/2021/08/27/president-joseph-r-biden-jr-approves-louisiana-emergency-declaration-2/

://www.washingtonpost.com/world/2021/08/27/afghanistan-kabul-taliban-live-updates/#link-KFQMWZKFSNH4DBBMK2VAJMAZF4

Meredith Lee @meredithlleeCENTCOM: "U.S. military forces conducted an over-the-horizon counterterrorism operation today against an ISIS-K planner. The unmanned airstrike occurred in the Nangahar Province of Afghanistan. Initial indications are that we killed the target. We know of no civilian casualties."

78 Retweets151 Likes

August 28th 2021

https://www.usatoday.com/story/news/2021/08/27/afghanistan-live-updates-taliban-kabul-news/5611093001/

https://www.nbcnews.com/news/amp/ncna1277715

https://apnews.com/article/lifestyle-health-education-florida-coronavirus-pandemic-1908088a0b5c5b02d89fd7e007822408

Ryan Struyk @ryanstruykThe United States is now reporting 1,194 new coronavirus deaths per day, the highest seven-day average since March 19, according to data from @CNN and Johns Hopkins University.

246 Retweets677 Likes

August 27th 2021

https://www.nbcnews.com/news/us-news/officer-who-shot-ashli-babbitt-during-capitol-riot-breaks-silence-n1277736

Jim Banks @RepJimBanksRead my letter to 1/6 Chair @BennieGThompson about his norm shattering decision to spy on his colleagues. @ATT @Verizon @TMobile @Facebook @Twitter @FCC

136 Retweets311 Likes

August 27th 2021

/photo/2

https://news.yahoo.com/gop-rep-jim-banks-republicans-195845753.html

https://www.cnn.com/2021/08/27/politics/us-military-airstrike-isis-k-planner-afghanistan/index.html

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

#letters from an american #heather cox richardson #political #capital riots #Federal Government #US History

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sparklingchan · 4 years ago

Text

Perfect ||Yang Hongseok (Pentagon)

Pairing : Reader(fem.) X Hongseok

Genre : Angst,fluff.

Warnings: Mentions of insecurities and self doubt.

Word count : 1.8k+

Enjoy!

They say that actions speak louder than words but I know from experience that sometimes words cause so much damage that even actions aren't able to repair those damages.

Hongseok says I am the love of his life and that he wouldn't trade me for the world, and I believe him because if I were to list all of his good qualities, being honest would top it. Besides being honest , he was practically good at everything. Singing, dancing, sports, studies, you name it. He is perfect , and even perfect is an understatement sometimes.

"(Y/n), Did you forget to buy milk yesterday too?" my dad asks me as I am eating breakfast, phone in my hand and earphones plugged in.

I sigh , pressing my hand to my face out of guilt. Why am I so forgetful?

"No, I'm sorry, pa. I'll go and buy it right now." I say and stand, leaving my half eaten breakfast behind.

He shakes his head in disappointment.

"Leave it, I'll ask Hongseok to buy it. He's coming to meet you today right?" He asks .

I don't know why but I was disappointed to hear him say that. I should be happy that my father got along so well with my boyfriend and adored him so much but I wasn't. Not even close. I felt like a horrible person at that moment for feeling that pang of jealousy.

"It's okay, pa. Hongseok probably has other things to do too. I'll buy right now. He will be coming in the evening anyway." I say, insistent.

"We can wait until the evening. The last time I sent you to get milk ,you bought everything but milk and this time you didn't even go to buy it. It's alright honey, Hongseok is more responsible. He'll buy it. "

That's when the realisation came of not being good enough. It was a small incident , some light words my father had said in the spur of the moment that I could have easily forgotten about it, just how I forgot everything else, but I didn't. I kept replaying the words in my head 'he's more responsible'. It drilled a small crack in my ego but with time the crack became a gaping hole, waiting to swallow me.

Hongseok invited me to his parents' anniversary party that they were hosting at their residence. I was unwilling to go honestly , not because I didn't want to go but because I was afraid of embarrassing Hongseok in front of his friends and relatives.

You see, I didn't fall into the category of pretty girls. I was just average. In a room full of pretty girls, you would never expect someone to have their eyes stuck on me. I am also too hyper , too talkative, too loud. And there is a whole list of other such things that would take me forever to jot down.

Hongseok didn't say it out loud but I just know that I embarrassed him in public, a lot.

"What are you going to wear?" he asks me over call the night before the party. I stare at the three dresses on my bed(the only dresses I own) and sigh, still stressed about limited choices of dresses for a fancy evening party. I hate wearing dresses but I know I cannot show up at the party wearing a pair of jeans and my black hoodie.

"I don't know, Hong. I'm confused." I say as I flop on the bed, nuzzling my face into the pillow.

"Oh god,(y/n). You should have told me earlier. I would have taken you shopping." He says with a hint of excitement in his voice.

But I fail to reciprocate it.

My ears turn red, embarrassed at his comment. I've been very sensitive to everything he says from the past few days and many times, I even tried to ignore his texts or calls . I know he didn't mean to make me feel this way but I couldn't help it. With each passing day, I feel myself becoming more of burden to him than a girlfriend. Truth to be told, I really wanted him to find his happiness in someone who was better than me.

Not to mention that it would break me to see him with someone else , but I am ready to bear that if it means seeing him truly happy.

" It's alright. I'll wear something nice so don't worry about being embarassed because of me." I reply, the words sounding harsher than I intended.

He keeps quiet for a few seconds before talking again.

"(Y/n), is everything alright? I've been observing you since the past few days and you're acting weird. And now you snap at me like that. You wanna talk about it, huh, baby?" he says in the sweetest voice ever. He always knows what to say, doesn't he? It makes me even more angry.

"He does not deserve you. He deserves someone as perfect as him." a voice inside my head says.

"I'm sorry but I've always been weird. Sorry for the goddamned inconvenience." I yell, sarcasm dripping in my voice. But before he can reply I hang up the call.

That night I turn and toss in my bed ,debating in my head whether or not to go to the party. A part of me wants to go because it feels bad for yelling at Hongseok and genuinely loves him and another part of me hates the idea of the party and just wants to stay in the house, not be an embarrassment to anyone. Ultimately, by the time the sun starts rising and my alarm goes off, I decide to go to the party.

********

I wear a red dress that reaches a little above my knees, pencil heels and some accessories. I put on some light make up and head out for the party. I've been ignoring Hongseok's texts and calls yet again and even though I am really tempted to talk to him, I just patiently wait till I reach his house.

And When I finally reach , I find him standing at the gate, busy on his phone and looking around as if searching for something. And that something is me.

"Hongseok." I whisper loud enough for him to hear me, as I slowly walk towards him, his eyes already on me. His face breaks into a smile on seeing me and naturally,mine does too. I haven't met him in person for a long time and right now, looking at him in a tux and perfect hair and with his beautiful smile, I realise how much I missed him.

He wraps his arms around me and it makes me forget about everything else , though just for a moment.

"I missed you." he says to me , nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck.

"I missed you too. " I say, placing my arms around his slim waist, " About yesterday-" I am about to complete my sentence when someone , his cousin if I recall properly , interrupts us.

"Hongseok, they're calling you inside, come on"

The party goes on smoothly . Hongseok and I are together almost throughout the whole time and for once, I didn't feel like I was embarrassing, maybe those feelings would come back but right now I am enjoying his company way too much to let negative thoughts ruin.

He would steal kisses from when I am blabbering about something or he would caresses my cheeks or hold my waist. He is all about PDA and I love it. Neither of us talked about yesterday and I know that the issue is resolved without me even having to say anything.

"I'm going to get dessert. Do you want anything?" he says, getting up from the table a little while later.

"I'll come with you." I say as I stand up too even though my feet hurt from wearing heels for too long .

We walk along the outdoor swimming pool, kids playing around and everyone else busy in their own little conversations and for once, I didn't feel out of place. Sadly ,all of that was short lived. Everything that happened next feels like a blur to me, like a video that is fast forwarded a little too much for my liking. I only vaguely remember a kid running right into me with full force, me tripping over and falling right into the swimming pool with a huge splash.

At that moment, I really wish I had stayed home.

*********

My ears are still ringing from to the splash and I feel horrible, embarrassed, sad and anxious all together. I've been holding in my tears all along and I know it isn't long before I snap, horribly. I have never felt so humiliated in my entire life and moreover, I wonder how much embarrassment Hongseok will have to go through because of me. I imagine a better scenario in my head where he is dating someone better than me, someone who'd have never caused so much humiliation. Someone who was more well behaved than me ,someone who wasn't me.

"Wear my t-shirt and pants till your clothes dry out. It shouldn't take long to dry them though." Hongseok says, handing some of his clothes to me.

I don't say anything, afraid of bursting into tears anytime.

I quickly wear his clothes .

"Are you in a mood to go downstairs for lunch or do you want me to bring our plates here? I'm fine with whatever you want, just name it" he says. He removes strands of hair from my face and tucks them behind my ears. His touch is like magic, giving me goosebumps but I force myself to swat his hand away,not being able to look him in the eye.

"I just want to go home. I can't embarrass you or your family anymore. " I say in a choked voice. I didn't want to cry right now but even before I could do anything, my eyes fill with tears.

"(Y/n)! You didn't do anything, sweetheart. Please, don't say that . You could never do that." he says, sitting beside me. He puts his hand comfortingly on my thigh but I move away .

"Why, Hongseok? Why are you lying? I know I have caused you nothing but humiliation and trouble . Stop denying it . I disappoint everyone, you, dad, my teachers, friends. You deserve better than this. Than me, " My voice breaks. "Let me go"

I say the last part in a small voice, unsure of how he'd react but he hears me, loud and clear.

"Okay, stop it now." he says in a tough tone, clearly angry. " I don't know what delusion you're under but let me make one thing clear ,you are more than what I deserve. You are smart, funny, bright, supportive, friendly, romantic, you're perfect. Other girls wish they're you. But they aren't because there can only be one (y/n). And I love her. With all her flaws and perfections. I'm not perfect either. I make mistakes and that's why we're more compatible than anyone else. Do you understand? "

Hearing these words as if breaks a wall that I'd been building from the past few days, and I feel relief wash over me. I start crying.

"You really mean it?" I ask in a small voice as his arms wrap around me. He places a kiss on my head.

"I mean it with all my heart. " He says. "Don't ever say that you're not good enough for me or that I deserve better, because I don't care. You're the one I want and I know you're more than enough for me."

And I believe him, like I always do.

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