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skellebonez · 3 years ago

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Prompt 76, MK accidentally lets it slip to Pigsy that Monkey and Macaque are “seeing each other” as in not quite dating but been on a few “dates”...again. Pigsy who is on a low profile and hasn’t told MO who he really is, let’s it slip how he thinks “his eldest brother can do better” and MK is very confused.

Feel free to ignore!!!!! I’ve never asked for something like this before and if I did it wrong feel free to ignore it!

I may or may not have a soft spot for protective younger sibling type scenes in media so I had way too much fun writing this.

It could be worse. They could be dating. Wait? They are?!

"I don't understand what that damn monkey is thinking half the time," Pigsy said with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his snout with a groan. "Just... let Macaque on the ship, yeah, that totally isn't going to backfire. Not like he has ulterior motives at all, not like we just learned all the stuff he pulled over the last year including trapping three of us in a lantern to fight you and teach you some kind of lesson.”

Things had been tense on the drone ship for the last month. They’d barely begun on their journey before a certain immortal monkey managed to catch them off guard and chase them for multiple days under the White Bone Spirit’s influence.

It became apparent very quickly that she was using him to toy with them, a sort of gloating in her victory. Well, joke was on her. Sending him after them meant they were able to see just how far her influence and control actually reached and they were able to find a way to free him from that with more than a little force and some stolen artifacts.

The fact she hadn’t sent anyone else, however, was... concerning to say the least. If she wasn’t worried about losing her grip on Macaque, of all people, that did not bode well for them.

But for the moment that was neither here nor there. What mattered in the moment was that in the month since the immortal monkey had managed to be dragged onto their ship to recuperate Wukong had become far too comfortable with letting him have free reign over whatever he wanted to do on the ship (within reason).

And Pigsy didn’t like that. Aforementioned soul trapping in a lantern and trying to turn MK against his teacher and all that. Pigsy didn’t trust Six-Eared Macaque as far as he could throw him.

"It's been a month and nothing's happened yet?" MK offered not so helpfully, shrugging with an awkward nervous chuckle. “I mean... unless he’s playing a really long game he’d probably have done something by now, right?”

"Well... It could be worse," Pigsy admitted with a chuckle as he stretched out and started to cut up the ingredients for his lunch dish. "They could be dating."

MK made an awkward choking sound as he inhaled his water.

"Wait...?" Pigsy turned around slowly, leveling the young man with a half glare. He stared for a moment, watching as MK refused to meet his gaze. Looking left and right and literally anywhere not at Pigsy’s face. "THEY ARE!?"

"I didn't tell you!" MK shouted, jumping up and hiding behind the table and pointing at Pigsy dramatically. "I said nothing, you cannot pin this on me!"

"YOU KNEW AND YOU KEPT IT A SECRET!?" Pigsy yelped, tone not angry but loud enough to make MK freeze with wide worried eyes. The chef stopped, sighing again as he took in a calming breathe before continuing. "Ok... ok... MK, I ain't mad, being mad at you would be ridiculous. But exactly how long have you known?"

MK frowned, looking up at the ceiling in thought before a tentative but curious look passed over his face.

"...I can neither confirm nor deny that I caught them smooching in the med bay two weeks ago."

"TWO WEEKS!?"

“You didn’t hear it from me!” MK said, pointing at himself as he backed away with another nervous laugh. “I have plausible deniability, you figured it out on your own!”

“Of all the hard headed thick skulled bad decisions that stupid-” Pigsy mumbled to himself, burying his face in his hands as he held back a scream of frustration. “There are so many men. So many men! So many ex-enemies even! But no, he had to go and hook up with his actual ex that tried to take over his identity and kill his entire travel party!”

“To be fair he kinda seems to be changing for the be-wait...?” MK started to offer, watching at the chef paced around the kitchen. “How... do you know they used to date? I don’t think even Tang knows that.”

“He could have dated literally anyone else and he chose to get back with Macaque,” Pigsy said with another sigh, removing his hands from his face with a scowl. “I knew he was dense but elder brother can do so much better.”

“I’M. SORRY?” MK yelled, this time being the one to startle the other. “ELDER. BROTHER?”

Pigsy froze, eyes wide in horrified realization. “... you didn’t hear that.”

Pigsy ran out of the room, MK hot on his heels.

“PIGSY COME BACK YOU NEED TO EXPLAIN AND NOT MAKE RASH DECISIONS!”

Pigsy did not go back to the kitchen, instead heading straight to the rec room that he knew the two monkeys were spending most of their recent time in when not off alone who knows where (now he knows where). MK was following right behind, trying to both get an explanation out of him and to dissuade him from confronting the Monkey King and also looking generally very confused and concerned.

He didn’t succeed before the pig demon slammed the rec room door open.

"WUKONG!" Pigsy shouted from the doorway, startling the two immortal monkeys from whatever conversation they were engrossed in . "You. Me. Deck. Now."

"I-"

"NOW. ELDER BROTHER."

The facial journey through confusion to realization to horror on Sun Wukong's face was worth the delayed reaction shout of "WHAT DO YOU MEAN ELDER BROTHER!?" from the other immortal sitting next to the Monkey King.

“BAJIE!?” Wukong yelped.

“YOU’RE ZHU BAJIE!?” MK yelped in much the same tone.

“Oh fuck,” Macaque whispered under his breath.

“DECK!” Pigsy repeated.

“BAJIE WHAT THE FUCK!?” Wukong repeated himself.

“ZHU BAJIE!?” MK also repeated.

“How many other enemies did I piss off that are on this ship?” Macaque continued, seemingly resigned to his fate.

“YES I’M BAJIE STOP YELLING MY OWN NAME AT ME!”

Needless to say that conversation was the most incoherent non-productive mess they had on the ship in the last month. Until Sandy burst into the room and forced them all to talk it out peacefully.

Macaque did, in fact, learn how many old enemies he had on the ship when Sandy came clean that he was also Sha Wujing.

And Pigsy did not, in fact, manage to talk any sense into his elder brother given how much MK was yelling at him for keeping his identity a secret from him.

Wukong just sat with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands wondering what in the actual hell his life had become.

(The next day, after a night of rest and a day talking to MK and apologizing and explaining everything, Pigsy caught the two immortal monkeys asleep cuddled on the couch of the rec room and decided that his elder brother could make his own decisions. And maybe MK had a point, given Macaque hadn’t done anything. Yet.

If he pulled a blanket over the two of them while they rested and they noticed no one said anything about it. And if Macaque snuck off the ship and there were, coincidentally, some rare ingredients for some dishes Pigsy missed making and a few scrapes and bruises on the immortal when he resurfaced... well, he didn’t say anything either. But he made it a point to have more mangoes and plums on hand.

Just in case.)

#monkie kid #lego monkie kid #fanfic #ship fic #gen fic #pigsy #mk #Qi Xiaotian #sun wukong #monkey king #six eared macaque #shadowpeach #once again i think the highest form of comedy is YELLING AND CONFUSION and i don't know why

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occultfolk · 4 years ago

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Lets talk: chakras!

in this post, we'll talk about chakras! what they are, why its important to keep them balanced and how they can aid/hinder our spiritual journey.

FAQs |

I. what even are chakras? Chakras points of energy throughout the body where the physical and higher selves meet.

II. what do they do? each chakra corresponds to massive nerve centers and major organs in the body. each of the 7 chakras also contains our spiritual states of being.

INTRODUCTION |

so what ARE the 7 chakras? glad you asked! let's break them down, one by one, because in order to begin to unblock or even open our chakras, we need to understand them throughly.

before we begin, let's do a little meditation lesson. lie down on a comfortable, flat surface. now, using your pendulum, hover over each of your chakra points — if the pendulum moves with the flow of the position of your body, the chakra is open. but if it does not move, it is blocked.

now, this comes with a grain of salt because while it can be a useful simple way to check the chakras, it cannot be the only way you check them.

SEVEN CHAKRAS |

1. Root Chakra (Muladhara)

The root chakra represents our foundation. On the human body, it sits at the base of the spine and gives us the feeling of being grounded. When the root chakra is open, we feel confident in our ability to withstand challenges and stand on our own two feet. When it's blocked, we feel threatened, as if we're standing on unstable ground.

Location: Base of spine, in tailbone area

What it controls: Survival issues such as financial independence, money, and food

Mantra: "I can't grow from an unsteady foundation."

Color: Red

Element: Earth

Stone: Hematite

2. Sacral Chakra (Swadhisthana)

The sacral chakra helps inform how we relate to our emotions and the emotions of others. It also governs creativity and sexual energy. Those with a blocked sacral chakra could feel a lack of control in their lives.

Location: Lower abdomen, about 2 inches below the navel

What it controls: Your sense of abundance, well-being, pleasure, and sexuality

Mantra: "I always honor others but not before myself."

Color: Orange

Element: Water

Stone: Tiger's Eye

3. Solar Plexus Chakra (Manipura)

The third chakra, the solar plexus chakra, speaks to your ability to be confident and in control of your life. Think back to the last time you had butterflies or felt a pit in the stomach: That's the Manipura chakra at work. If your solar plexus chakra is blocked, you might feel overwhelming amounts of shame and self-doubt. Those with open sacral chakras are free to express their true selves.

Location: Upper abdomen in the stomach area

What it controls: Self-worth, self-confidence, and self-esteem

Mantra: "Self-love starts when I accept all parts of myself."

Color: Yellow

Element: Fire

Stone: Amber

4. Heart Chakra (Anahata)

The heart chakra is the bridge between the lower chakras (associated with materiality) and the upper chakras (associated with spirituality). As the name suggests, this chakra can influence our ability to give and receive love—from others and ourselves. Someone with a blocked heart chakra will have difficulty fully opening up to the people in their life. If someone's heart is open, they can experience deep compassion and empathy.

Location: Center of chest, just above the heart

What it controls: Love, joy, and inner peace

Mantra: "When I love myself, loving others comes easily."

Color: Green

Element: Air

Stone: Rose Quartz

5. Throat Chakra (Vishuddha)

The throat chakra gives voice to the heart chakra and controls our ability to communicate our personal power. When it's functioning at full capacity, it allows us to express ourselves truly and clearly. Someone with a blocked throat chakra will feel like they have trouble finding the words to say how they truly feel.

Location: Throat

What it controls: Communication, self-expression, and truth

Mantra: "I speak my truth, always."

Color: Light Blue/Turquoise

Element: Sound/Music

Stone: Aquamarine

6. Third-Eye Chakra (Ajna)

As we move up the body, we're getting closer to communion with the divine. The third-eye chakra controls our ability to see the big picture and connect to intuition. Think of it as the eye of the soul: It registers information beyond the surface level. Visions and intuitive hits are not uncommon for someone with an open third-eye chakra.

Location: Forehead between the eyes (also called the Brow Chakra)

What it controls: Intuition, imagination, and wisdom

Mantra: "I am open to exploring what cannot be seen."

Color: Dark Blue/Purple

Element: Light

Stone: Amethyst

7. Crown Chakra (Sahasrara)

The crown chakra, the highest chakra, sits at the crown of the head and represents our ability to be fully connected spiritually. When you fully open your crown chakra—something very few people ever do!—you're able to access a higher consciousness.

Location: The very top of the head

What it controls: Inner and outer beauty, spiritual connection

Lesson: "I am a vessel for love and light."

Color: Violet/White

Element: Divine Consciousness

Stone: Clear quartz

BLOCKED/OPEN |

now that we have a better understanding of the chakras, what they do and more important where they are, we can talk about the reasons we might have blocks, and the things we can do to reopen those blocks and therefore progress in our spiritual journies.

i read a book about charkas a while ago, and then i feel it explains the reasons better than i could, here is an excerpt from that book.

"A blocked chakra means energy is stuck or hindered. You might think of it as a blocked artery. In order for energy and information to flow, the channels through which they flow must be open. You will have difficulty getting to work on time if the roads are blocked by traffic. In the same way, the chakras cannot work at optimal levels when the pathways have blockages. These blockages can be physical, emotional or psychological, spiritual, karmic, or energetic.

The blocks can be physical, in the literal sense, such as fatty deposits in the arteries, a tumor, a cyst, or excess waste. We can create blockages in the physical body through poor dietary choices, lack of exercise, overexertion, and lifestyle choices such as overwork, drug use, or lack of sleep.

Blocks in the chakras can also be emotional or psychological, such as stored emotions from the past or mental illness such as anxiety, depression, or addiction. We accumulate emotional toxins and residue from not properly processing and digesting emotions and experiences. These toxins result in blocking the energy flow of the chakras.

Blocks can be spiritual in nature. They can come from outside spiritual forces or from within. If we refuse to honor the spiritual side of who we are, we block the higher chakras. Being spiritually rigid and strict can also restrict the flow of energy. Remember, whether the forces are external or internal, without your conscious awareness they can create harm.

Blockages can also come from our karma. The word karma in Sanskrit literally means “action.” In life we perform actions that are good or nourishing, bad or harmful, or neutral. An example of a good action might be giving money to charity. A bad action might be intentionally lying or deceiving. A neutral action might be making the bed (which, if you dig deeper, can also be considered a good action, depending on the circumstances). In the East, certain religions and philosophies adhere to the principle that we accumulate karma throughout lifetimes, and we carry it forth into our current life. The definition of karma, in this sense, assumes a belief in reincarnation and asserts that karma is not simply the action performed but also the consequences of that action. Good karma carried forward can give us favor in our current lifetime. Bad karma is a debt we must repay in this or future lifetimes.

Finally, the blocks can be energetic. I explained a little about energetic blockages when I spoke about my astrological chart. We are a part of this earth, our solar system, and the universe. The influence of the earth’s energy and elements, as well as of the energy of the sun, moon, and planets in our solar system, is strong and undeniable. Ayurveda, the five-thousand-year-old medical system from India, recognizes these energetic forces and acknowledges them as a means of healing. You can learn more about Ayurveda by reading my book The Wheel of Healing with Ayurveda: An Easy Guide to a Healthy Lifestyle. Ayurveda works on the principles of the five elements — space, air, fire, water, and earth — which work together to create the three doshas, or mind-body types, of Vata (space and air), Pitta (fire and water), and Kapha (water and earth). These elements and mind-body types are relevant in recognizing energetic blocks within your body and the chakras. This awareness will give you more tools toward your healing of the chakras and provide a superspeed highway to creating energy flow." — CHAKRA HEALING FOR VIBRANT ENERGY by Michelle S. Fondin.

so how do we unblock them then? well, its more complicated than can be explained in a single tumblr post, but i will tell you how to get the energies moving whilst you work through the blocks and figure them out.

we need to understand, that we are all different, and our spiritual journies will all be different. the same goes for things like chakras.

1st Chakra (Root)

Element: The root chakra is associated with earth, so walking barefoot in the sand, grass, or dirt can be beneficial. Any time spent in nature is helpful for this chakra.

Nutrition: Eat healthy red foods like tomatoes, beets, berries, and apples.

Wear and Decorate: Use accents of red and wear red jewelry, clothing, or shoes.

Sound: lam

2nd Chakra (Sacral)

Element: The sacral chakra is associated with water, which means swimming or spending time by bodies of water like lakes and oceans is beneficial.

Nutrition: Eat orange foods like carrots, oranges, melons, or mangoes.

Wear and Decorate: Surround yourself with orange accessories or tones.

Sound: vam

3rd Chakra (Solar Plexus)

Element: The solar plexus chakra is associated with the element of fire, so enjoy sitting around a bonfire or soak up bright sunlight.

Nutrition: Eat yellow foods like bananas, ginger, turmeric, pineapple, and corn.

Wear and Decorate: Wearing yellow clothing, jewelry, and accessories would be beneficial.

Sound: ram

4th Chakra (Heart)

Elements: The heart chakra is associated with air, so breathing deeply will help to clear the energy at this level. Drive with the windows open, fly a kite, or take a boat ride.

Nutrition: Eat green foods including broccoli, avocado, and leafy greens like kale or spinach.

Wear and Decorate: Accent your life with all shades of green.

Sound: yum

5th Chakra (Throat)

Element: The throat chakra is associated with ether (similar to spirit), so sitting in an open space under a clear sky is a fabulous way to get this energy flowing appropriately.

Nutrition: Eat blue foods like blueberries, currants, dragon fruit, and kelp.

Wear and Decorate: Use all blue tones.

Sound: ham

6th Chakra (Third Eye)

Element: The third eye chakra is associated with light. To balance and open this chakra, sit in stillness in the sunlight or relax in a window as the sun pours in.

Nutrition: Eat indigo foods including purple kale, grapes, and blackberries.

Wear and Decorate: Wearing indigo clothing or jewelry and decorating with accents of this color will be useful.

Sound: sham

7th Chakra (Crown)

Element: The crown chakra is affiliated with all the elements, so connecting with your wholeness rather than a single element is the recommended practice. Spend time in meditation, chanting, or prayer.

Nutrition: At this level, the nutrition is no longer for the physical body. This chakra is not nourished with food, but with spiritual practices. Practice self-reflection and curiosity.

Wear and Decorate: Wearing violet clothing or jewelry and decorating with accents of this color will be useful.

Sound: om

CONCLUSION |

hopefully you all understand chakras a bit better now! but, if any questions are to come up that you can't seem to find an answer to, my ask box is always open! (like my chakras).

#chakras #witchcraft #pagan #magick #witchblr #bruja #spiritualgrowth #spiritualhealing

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starlightartemis · 3 years ago

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37th Battalion (The Lucky Batch☘️)

Some Raffle & Kenhla friendship because I love them.

After a few drinks

Kenhla reached out and tapped his nose, a loopy smile on her face. “Boop!”

Raffle sighed and tightened his hold on the giggling General’s arm hanging over his shoulders, helping her walk in a straight line while simultaneously preventing her from happily skipping away. She had had a little too many drinks at the bar and, as he was unfortunately finding out, that meant her energy levels were off the roof. The clone had spent thirteen minutes watching the Jedi run around the same block jumping and bouncing like a rubber ball, alcohol high in her bloodstream, and another ten trying to talk her down from throwing herself out of the bridge’s edge, strongly explaining that she was in no condition to catch herself before splattering against the cold, hard ground.

He didn’t get paid enough for this.

“Get into the speeder, sir, please,” he told her, sighing, letting her lean on the side of the vehicle as he opened the door.

Once he’d made sure she was strapped in securely, he hopped onto the driver's seat and started the engine. Kenhla’s legs were bouncing joyfully up and down as they picked up speed, and she started singing weird, incorrect lyrics of Jackal’s cursed ABBA music as he drove her back, the city's cold night air making his skin tingle. He slapped her hand away from the console when she tried to turn in the radio, ignoring her offended expression and dialing his comm.

“Pepper, could you tell the Commander—“

“Don’t call Luna!” Kenhla said, eyes wide open as she snatched the device from his wrist and turned it off. “She’s gonna make me drink lots of water!”

“That’s…that’s the point, General.”

“Nope! I’m pulling rank here, Captain,” she wriggled her finger in his face, and then booped his nose again.

Raffle pinched the bridge of his nose as he took a couple more turns, racing down the bright light levels of Coruscant back to the Temple. He didn't know where the rest of the 37th was, but he hoped Sparks was having a better time taking Jackal and Ballast back to the barracks than he was with the General. The clone spotted their destination at the distance and, after making sure the togruta didn't fling herself off from the speeder accidentally, managed to pull over a few meters to the entrance and helped her out.

Kenhla started doing ridiculous handstands in the background as the captain walked towards the Temple door's, fishing for the comm he had clipped out of her reach to send a text to her padawan, telling her that the general was heading her way and that she should have a bucket of water ready. Luna responded with a thumbs up, and he could actually picture in his head the way she had rolled her eyes at the message.

He turned around to call the Jedi, but before he could open his mouth, she was by his side, placing a hand on his shoulder. His eyes reflected his confusion, but it didn't seem to register in her fuzzy brain because she offered no explanation whatsoever as she said, in a rare serious tone—

“You’re a great friend, Raffle,” the words were a bit slurred, but he recognized the sincerity in her voice, as well as the hint of something troubled in her usually confident eyes.

He paused for a moment, silence heavy between them, and then found the words to answer. “You too, General.”

She nodded, as if satisfied that he understood, and the unreadable emotion that had settled on her features faded away, as if it had never been there in the first place.

The togruta’s smile was sincere and reckless, and she tilted to the side as she took a few steps towards the temple. He started forward as if to catch her, but she placed her feet under her body steadily, straightening her step, and he pulled back. She turned back to face him, the same fond, careless smile on her face as she gave him a little drunk wave and giggle.

“Good night, you little waffle!"

The clone couldn’t help the way his lips tugged upward. “Good night, General.”

@lavenderstaars @lynnpaper @foxlock @maygaladon @radbatch @oo-hazel-oo @letsunity @mango-peachjuice @lusiawonder @catboy-tech @cosmicghostie @monako-jinn-stories @longearedowlfromouterspace @namesmox I’m tagging y’all cos cf37 content :D

#the lucky batch #37th battalion #clone force 37 #cf37 raffle #cf37 kenhla #lule writes

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ok-ak · 4 years ago

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a list of ✨things that make me happy and make me feel like myself✨, bc i keep seemingly forgetting the joy i find in things and taking myself way Too Seriously:

the color yellow

iced salted caramel lattes w oat milk and lavender

anything bee, honey, or honeycomb related

purple flowers

tassels

the entirety of Ben Howard’s Every Kingdom album

the beginning notes of Blindsided by Bon Iver

Chloe perfume, the original kind

the Tiny Chef

My comfort shows: new girl, schitts creek, law and order

Madewell, and everything they sell

my Warby Parker glasses bc they fit my face perfectly & none else do

When you finish a hot yoga class & then the teacher puts a iced lavender towel on your forehead

the feeling when you go to a dance class, learn a routine, and nail it by the time the small groups perform

curly bangs

my Vans collection

Bergamot & Amber candles

Frank Ocean

layered gold jewelry

August by TS

the feeling i get when i read Toni Morrison novels

my order from CAVA w/ a glass of pinot noir

the build up to ‘well be alright’ in Fine Line, the song

coral blush

My old NY apartment

Chapel Hill, NC

my best friends cat, Kittles

buying my mom things she deserves, especially $ skincare she won’t buy herself

sunshine & sun-related quotes/art/prints

rooftops

spending all day in the ocean

choreographing a contemporary dance piece & teaching it

small gold earrings paired with small silver earrings

peace signs

hats worn backwards

the MFM podcast

the feeling when sitting on the floor petting a dog

the proud feeling when finishing a well written document

burnt orange nail polish

Louis Tomlinsons’ expressiveness when he talks and walks

The feeling when i read my daily devotional and it matches what i’m going through that day

Yoga with Adrienne

Wearing multiple rings at all times, esp the ring i made for my best friends wedding

Fenty face mist

Hillsong’s The Stand

Sitting on my best friends couch while she watches Gilmore Girls for the 83th time, even though i’ve never watched it on my own

sending memes to my friend while she’s at work

Publix, the superior grocery store

Baby otters holding hands

Snoopy

Rihanna/ Zendaya, doing anything ever

mango Bubbly water

the bookstore, in NC, from that one trip

the feeling after 3, but not yet 4, mimosas

soft amber lighting

pinterest boards of those houses with all those prints that i’m too overwhelmed to hang in my own living room

my leather, card holding phone case

my Columbia Uni Alum zip up that is the perfect level of worn in

They’re Real mascara

PJ, my penguin pillow pet

the anthropologie in Chelsea

RVA Instagram accounts

the song Hometown Glory

Lianna La Havas, Corinne Bailey Rae, & NAO’s music

Degas’ Little Dancer statue

the feeling of looking at art at the VMFA

Driving over the GW Bridge

Sitting on the rocks at Belle Isle

when girls play guitar

my broken in brown leather jacket

the Richmond Ballet hoodie that i’ve had since high school

the handful of people i’ve followed on youtube since 2010

forehead kisses

when people dye the ends of their hair purple

breakfast sandwiches with hot sauce

seafod pasta

taking 40 minute walks and feeling renewed after

the look of a headband + turtleneck + a blazer

when you make plans and they just work out without any snags

the feeling at the height of a good fic when you want to stop reading it so it won’t end

underling important notes that were written in black ink with a purple pen

having a cookout at a swimming pool

the phrase ‘creme de la creme’

driving fast to any Prince song

routines on a Sunday afternoon

dancing, poorly, to Gas Pedal with my friends in a crowded bar

The Dollop podcast

Mexican food

James Blake’s Into the Red

Dear Evan Hansen

striped or color-blocked sweaters

The movie How To Be Single, for some reason

Pizza with pepperoni, arugula, and chili oil from the place down the street

Movies on projection screens

Stringed lights with the bigger bulbs

exclamation points! and, commas

Baby, used in any fic ever

a shirt tucked into a skirt paired with ankle boots

Pesto

the Lazy Sunday Morning perfume

#ok that’s all for now #focus on the good ashley you can do it 🥲🥲🥲#feel free to ignore this but it’s my blog i do what i want hoes #😂#i’ll keep adding!!!#i say to myself #bc no one else is reading this nonsense lmao #pinned

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kashimos-hajime · 5 years ago

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if i time it right, the thunder breaks

Summary: “And he hated himself and hated her, too, for the ruin they'd made of each other.”

WARNINGS: swearing, it’s getting bad, mentions of (sexual, if you interpret it that way) child abuse, violence, angst, these idiots dont know how to take care of themselves but they know how to take care of each other Pairing: Detective Loki x Reader Word Count: 6.1k

A/N: thank you for the crazy response babes. truly thought this would flop and y’all proved me wrong. this is an important chapter and there’s a lot to say. i am open to tagging people so just lemme know if you want to be by sending an ask. GIF not mine

01 | ... | 03 | 04 | 05

“Stop eating my shit.”

“Fuck off,” you snap, tossing the container of gummies onto the dash. It’s only half-empty and it’s not like you won’t buy him more. “God, I fucking hate this case.” You pinch the bridge of your nose as he slams the door, shaking rain off his coat. You swallow the gummy, feeling it all the way down to your stomach. The list of level-three sex offenders is like your death sentence as you cross out another name on the list with jagged black lines. “Nothing?”

“Just some German porn. Fuck.” His palm collides with the steering wheel as you try to sink into your chair. The air is stuffy in here but you don’t have the strength to open a window. “Fuck.” He sucks in a breath between his teeth, the cord of his throat pulsing. You lick your lips, turn away.

“You need some coffee?” You lean forward and pull out the giant thermos you have filled to the brim with coffee from your bag, and he snatches it from you, letting the black roast scorch his throat. You press your temple against the cold window before he nudges your shoulder. He offers the open thermos back to you and you down it, the bitterness waking up your mind as you twist the cap on shut again.

“Where next?” Your nose twitches again as you sniff, trying to see straight at the list. Reading out the address, you fold it back into your pocket and lean into the window as the Sedan rolls into motion.

It is raining now, a gentle pattering that you could fall asleep too if you were home instead of here. David sends you a glance but otherwise focuses his gaze on the road. It’s a long night before you, and you can imagine the thermos would be empty before long.

David’s fingers tap the steering wheel when he drives. You know you’re not supposed to notice such a habit of his, but it’s a part of him, like how you know when he’s under stress, he blinks like someone squirted lemon juice in his eyes, or how he takes his coffee black because he nearly choked on watered down sugar for coffee once when he was fifteen.

But, you do. You can’t help that he’s part of you and you can’t help but smile at his young face, spitting that awful coffee into the street, one of the brightest memories in your head, surrounded by so much smoke and shadow that pulls, claws, tugs you in and then you are spiraling.

“You’re thinking loudly,” he comments, banishing the smoke for mere moments, and you toss him a look from where it had drifted into the dark trees. Bundling your coat around yourself, you recline into your chair.

“I’m just thinking about us,” you reply and he lets out a sharp breath, a gesture often paired with him shaking his head in irritation or disbelief or something. You don’t want to look at the ruins of what you’d done. “When we were younger.”

The fingers on the steering wheel pause, wrap tighter instead, and you close your eyes.

“Really?” He is stiff, every inch of him. You’re sure the cord of his neck is hard as a rock against his skin. The line of his reflection is just visible in the glass and you press your temple against the window, looking into your lap.

“The years you were at Huntington,” you begin, and this time you must look at him. There are only some times you can bring such a time up and by the twitch of the muscles in his jaw, this isn’t the best, but it bottles up inside you that you might… you just don’t want to think about it anymore. “Those were the worst years of my life. I don’t think I’ve ever told you that.”

“You haven’t.”

“Well, I hated seeing you there. I hated seeing what they did to you.”

You can see it play before your eyes, a mere spectator to some biopic film that you are forced to see.

Two figures under the shade of the church, one tall and thin and, another carrying a can and bags and stale bread that spilled over tiny arms, food that could’ve gone to those who didn’t have a home like he did. He’d insisted you take it back, but you simply dented a can against the rock until a tiny hole formed and told him to suck the juice from the mangoes before it leaked into the moist dirt. Moonlight bathed two figures even under the shade of the church as the taller one helped the tiny one over the fence.

“I’ll come back,” you promised in harsh breaths. He held the rest of the food in his arms, granola bars he could eat quietly, bread he could rip apart in small bits and chew on, and you grabbed the front of his ratty shirt desperately despite how much he must feel, a purple and blue plethora underneath his little church uniform that’d been torn in all the wrong places. “My uncle won’t notice. I’ll come back for you.”

You thoughts drift even further back.

A hospital waiting room, reeking of antiseptic and too much bleach. This boy you met just an hour ago, sitting with his respective social worker in that antiseptic waiting room was the most interesting person you’d ever met. He had cards, and said he’d taught himself magic tricks if you wanted to see. You nodded but played goldfish instead.

“They’re not my real parents,” he’d told you almost angrily, and you’d balked at the thought. “I’m only here because they have to do something before they bring me to a Huntington Boys Home. They think I have ‘problems’.”

“Oh.” You had frowned artfully and he asked if you had a seven. You shook your head and said goldfish. “Where are your real parents?”

“I think they died.”

“Oh.” You remember the disappointment, the utter sadness compelling you to watch the boy as he looks into his cards.

“Why are you here?”

“My mom can’t take care of me anymore and I don’t know my dad.” Your shoulders had risen, fallen indelicately and the boy smiled with the teeth he had. He was missing one of the lower ones and you had smiled back faintly, nervously.

“That sucks.”

“I guess. I didn’t like her that much.”

You swallow and close your eyes as if that’ll help bat the image away but it only serves to show you the bloodied knuckles, the bruises on pale, milky thighs and the scars shown in the mist of hot showers and empty locker rooms.

“You, uh, you liked the canned fruit the best. I remembered.” Your voice is faint, barely heard over the rain and rumble of the engine that’s already just a whisper.

He swallows, too, eyes burning into the windshield. You know he’s trying his hardest not to swerve or stop the car, or even look at you, because his arms shake from the strength he holds the steering wheel. You’re quite sure it might detach if he goes any longer.

“You told me there was life outside of priests and sick fucks like them.”

“Well, I didn’t know. It was just something I heard my uncle say, when he was sober at least. He said there was a life outside of your shitty circumstance,” you reply with that indelicate shrug. You haven’t thought of the man who’d offered a roof over your head and nothing else in a while. “It was one of the few things I learned from him, not because of him.”

“You shouldn’t fucking be here,” he says softly. Your eyes trace the arch of his neck, a feather-light gaze that flickers across his cheeks, the slick-back hair, the hands that loosen on the steering wheel as you travel over a bump on the road. “This town will never be good enough for you.”

“It has you in it.” You know it’s something you shouldn’t fucking say but you can’t help it. That boy in the hospital room with the gap-wide smile sits before you and you can’t do anything about it. You turn your body inwards, towards him, and his hand finds your knee on its own accord as you settle into your new position. “I fucking hated seeing you there.” “I know.”

“I’m glad you left when you could.”

“I know.” His hand, a heavy heat on your knee, squeezes before he lifts it and your eyes dart to the warmth he’s left on you, a warmth that spreads through your body like warm wine. “I’m glad you did too, either.”

Terrible, ugly, screaming and the smell of vodka spits in your mouth. You shake off the feeling and you know that David saw you shudder. He doesn’t say anything more. Neither do you.

Time does not heal all wounds, and you wonder if love could’ve ever built a palace on sand.

You can’t sleep. Even with the father in custody, you can’t sleep. David’s arm tightens around your waist as he sleeps, but you know he is uneasy in his slumber.

Fuck.

“Sleepin’?” he mumbles suddenly and you close your eyes as if that’ll help you. “Me neither.”

“Get some sleep,” you murmur back, burrowing your face deeper into the pillow. You can still see the dead man’s body in the father’s basement and your nose twitches. You had held the father above the hole, made him look at the darkness of his basement, at the bones of his work. Made him look into David’s eyes, made him see.

Not his work, a voice in the back of your mind whispers. The devastation beside you is not this man’s work. The smell of dust and cobwebs still lingers. So does David’s voice. The boys home. Sweet fruit nectar and the taste of blood form a strange cocktail in your mouth.

That’s justice unserved, too. You suppress a shiver.

“Come on.” His voice warms your neck as he pulls himself closer, nose pressed against the back of your shoulder. You tug his arm tighter around you, fingers slipping to interlace with his. “Close your eyes.” “They’re closed,” you promise. His lips brush against the bare skin of your shoulder before a feather-soft kiss lands on the juncture between your neck and shoulder. His legs press underneath your thighs and the warmth his body radiates drowns you, melts you away until you’re nothing. He digs his fingers into your bare stomach and you can feel him blinking hard against your skin. “Sleep. Please. Don’t think about that anymore.” You utter the words so softly, so desperately you barely recognize your own voice.

“Fuck,” he whispers and something wet touches your skin. You open an eye to stare through the window, at the moon nearly blocked out by the branches outside your window as he holds onto you tighter. You feel the fire burning, an ice cold fire that makes you hurt so much. Makes you want to throw him off and rip those memories from his head. Anything to make it stop. “Fuck.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, but it is unheard over the sounds of his harsh, hot breaths. More wetness tracks down your bare shoulders as his arm goes taut around you. You twist around immediately, and pull him close to your chest. Your eyes are closed, your hands clutching into his hair, fingers digging into his skull, salt rain sliding over your cheeks.

He tries to speak, puffs of air that could’ve been words had he not been so choked, and you merely let him try and break you, let his hands grip bruises into your skin and trace the scars people have left behind. You trace every crack in the porcelain of his back, every fissure that you know reaches from his neck to his legs.

Why couldn’t you have chosen something other than some broken little thing? Something that does not remind you of pain and sick and ache.

You don’t know whether you ask this of yourself or to him.

When you wake up, it is hard to even get your eyes to open. You don’t remember when you fell asleep and you wonder if you even had at all.

Three days. Has it really been three days already? You screw up your face to wake yourself up as David shuffles around the room. He’s already awake and you glance blearily at the clock. It’s only 4 AM, that means…

Shit. An hour or two of sleep if you can even call it sleep. Fuck.

Pushing yourself up, you drag yourself out of bed on unsteady legs and wade to the bathroom.

You’re done in record time and when you leave, David is out of the room and in the kitchen preparing coffee. You begin to poke your head through one of his shrunken dress shirts. You’d stuff it into a pair of looser pants and tie it with a belt today. You just need something looser than one of your own tightfitting blouses. Maybe it’d help you breathe easier.

He returns moments later to button up his own dress shirt. You can see his eyes rake over your figure, over the shirt you wear, but David doesn’t say anything as you dress. The shadows of the room playing tricks on you, you pull your hair out from underneath your collar and your nose twitches. Sniffing, you try to chase away the exhaustion pulling at your ankles, trying to chain you at your bed. Your hand rubs deep into your eyes as you gather your raincoat and stuff your feet into your boots in the living room.

When the two of you are ready to leave, you a cup of black coffee already in your system and David a piece of chewing gum in his mouth, you grab your bag.

“Here.” You look up. Your huge thermos is filled to the brim with coffee, twisted shut, and you slip it into the bag.

“Thanks.”

Letting David press a lingering kiss to your temple before he opens the door, you dig through your bag to make sure you have everything.

“Let’s head to the station,” he mutters. “I’m not fucking hungry.”

“Yeah, me neither.” Adjusting the straps on your shoulder, you follow after him, locking your apartment door behind you. Neither of you speak the ride to the police station, because there is nothing to say.

Last night is already forgotten.

Not really.

Fiddling with your phone, you run a hand through your hair. You can’t describe the uneasiness, the nausea that swirls in your stomach for the first time in years. Whilst David had left in search of the owner of the home where the RV was parked, you are stuck at homebase. You rewind the tapes, watching the interrogation of Alex Jones. It’s ten hours worth of tape, worth of footage that can mean absolutely nothing and a waste of time, or be a breakthrough in the case. You scroll back as the police officers work outside your dark room.

You can hear them talking, the little tap-tap-tap of their keyboards or the sounds of them laughing at some little joke made in the break room and fight the impulse to scream.

When did you get so fucking tired? When did invisible weights chain you to a desk, make the remote effort of rewinding a task as you watch the footage reverse?

“Detective.”

You raise your head, turning only just enough to see Chemelinski standing at the door. That ugly artificial light streams in behind him and you squint at how bright it is outside the dark room.

“We got something.”

“What?” You stand abruptly and black dots invade your vision as you blink, hand finding the back of the chair as casually as you can. Chemelinski keeps talking and you catch bits and pieces as you walk after him, knuckles brushing the wall just in case your legs decide to give out on you. “What’d the father say?”

“Something. I dunno if you got the sense to make it fit, but it’s something.” The older man opens the door to the interrogation room and you walk in, eyebrows knitting together. The father is sitting there in his grey cardigan, looking rather pathetic for himself, and you sit down.

“Good morning, father.” You lace your fingers on the table, sitting upright as Chemelinski closes the door. “Detective over here tells me you said something specific about the… the child abductor we found in your basement. Care to share it with me?”

“He was… waging a war against God.” One eyebrow rises as you send a glance to Chemelinski who clenches his jaw so visibly you wonder if his teeth are gonna crack. You return your gaze to the father who has yet to look at you. Leaning back into the chair, your hands roll into dragging fists over wood.

“Anything else? About how they were kidnapped or…”

“He said… he took them in daylight. Sometimes, more than one child at a time.”

“Great.” Your knuckles rapping against wood, you wait for anything else. Nothing. Prompting him will have to be the way to go. “Did he act alone? Did he ever mention any family, partners?”

“He said he had a family. He was suffering from a great loss.”

“That’s it?” A numb nod. You stand, the chair scraping against the scuffed floor and you send Chemelinski a foul glare. Blackness swarms your vision and you blink, trying to get rid of it before he notices. “Great. Thank you for your cooperation, father.” Opening the door, you adjust the handcuffs stuffed along the back of your belt and walk down the hall. Chemelinski follows after you but you ignore the detective in favour of jotting down what you’d learned and sending it in a text to David.

Child abductor — took them in daylight, more than one child at a time, had a family. Father decided to talk.

Text me when you can. -xx

You pause, staring as the text goes through. XX.

XX.

You hadn’t thought about it before you sent it. It was merely an instinct that took over you and hollows you out now as you stare at the letters. Two simple taps of the same little shape, but it means a world of things both of you buried. You pause in the hallway, staring at that tiny screen, the pixels forming the twenty-fourth letter of the alphabet. Chemelinski sends you a strange glance, passing by you, but you ignore him as you wait for his response.

I will. -D x

He replies in a manner that means he hasn’t forgotten either. You hold the phone tightly in your fist and lift your head to the ugly artificial light as if heaven has washed you in a golden glow. Leaning against the wall, you press the phone to your chest and suck in a breath, hoping that the wind will not whisk you away.

Heading to the candlelight vigil. Could be a lead. -D x

What makes you think that? -xx

I dont know. Just something I wish we had. Ill see you soon. -D x

Stay safe. -xx

“Fuck.”

You press the ice pack against the bruising on his shoulder, sniffing with a twitch of your nose as he let out a long, drawn out moan. The coloring isn’t bad; you assume the jacket got the brunt of the damage, but you are sure it’s gonna be worse tomorrow.

“I should’ve been there for you,” you whisper, fingers brushing over the crisp gelled curls that fall into his eyes. He groans, leaning forward on his knees. The locker room is empty and you leave the ice pack on his shoulder for a second to get the elastic bandage and vitamin K cream. David lets out a huff as you return, moving the ice pack to unveil the red and purple.

“It’s fine. Shit.” Your fingers dipped in vitamin K cream, you smear it gently over the plane of his broad shoulder. “You couldn’t have known someone would’ve jumped onto me.”

“Yeah, but…” you trail off. You don’t know how to argue a point you are too tired to make. “How’s that feel?” you murmur, spreading a thin layer over his skin as he turns to watch your work. You wipe your hand of the excess and ask him to raise his arm a bit. Beginning to wrap his shoulder, you hum to yourself as you work.

“Too tight,” he occasionally says, or he’ll comment on the looseness of a certain round and you steadily make your progress. Forming a figure-eight pattern around his arm, shoulder, and chest, you murmur for him to take a deep breath before continuing. “Thank you,” he utters as you near the end of the elastic bandage. Your fingernails scratch against the fabric as you unfold a lip in the bandage.

“What for?” Grabbing elastic tape, you follow the same pattern to secure the bandage. The rip of the tape fills the silence David does not and you pause to look at him. “Loke.” The nickname feels fucking weird on your tongue. By David’s expression, he feels the same. He doesn’t even look at you as you smooth over the black tape.

“You don’t have to do this.”

“What do you mean?” You take hold of his arm, curling his hand into a fist to test bicep size. Sticking a finger beneath the bandage, you check for room and mobility. “Is it too tight?”

“No.”

“Okay, try moving it for me.” With your support, he eases into full mobility and you suppress a small smile. “Good.” You cross your arms and move to stand before him. “You need to get some sleep before the Captain calls you in.”

“You don’t have to do this for me.”

Uncrossing your arms, you step forward and run your hands through his crisp hair. He looks up and, with you between his legs, rests his chin on your stomach. His fingers interlock on your back, his arms swathing you in the heat of his shower.

Your hands run down to his cheeks as you stare into his porcelain blue eyes, all at once so dark and fragile. Purple half-moons threaten to swallow up his eyes whilst you trace the hollows in his cheeks.

There is so much you have to say. So much you need to say. But you can’t. Not now. Not in the middle of this case. You know it’ll utterly destroy the pillars of what you two are if you do and you know he’s thinking the same thing.

Your eyes search his, and you sink down to a crouch before him. He looks so much older in your arms and you wonders if that is your fault, too. Your fingers drag from his cheek to the robin on his ribs and he lifts your inked hand to his lips, kissing the knuckles where you are marked.

“Get some rest, Loke. Go home and eat.” The words taste like blood and wine in your mouth, all at once bitter and sweet and sour. You draw away and his arms fall around you as your lips find the spot between his eyes. His eyelids flutter shut, and you wonder about many things that you can’t put a name to. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Come with me.” He grabs your arm, fingers snagging your wrist and your gaze, torn from the door, lands on him. The shadows are there again, and he pulls you towards him. Your boots brush against the tile as you let him pull you between his legs. “Don’t stay here alone.”

“Loke—” Your hands find purchase on his shoulders, and the rough scratch of the bandage on one palm, the silky skin of his other, topple you from within. You remember once, once some version of you would straddle him right here and now and make him yours. When you had room inside your heart for childish little tricks and David and your work. How had you ever done it in the first place? “Loki.”

“Stay with me.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Your heart stops in your chest at the wide eyes, the marble of his cheeks. You can’t.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“We don’t do that shit,” you let out in a breath, tearing yourself away. He stands and you close your eyes as if that’ll stop the heat of him from enveloping you. Even so, David Loki has the body temperature of a nuclear radiator and you can sense him from a mile away. “David, I—” Your words ghost against blazing lips as he presses a severe kiss against your mouth. Your eyes open and you gasp, trying to breathe. He suffocates you, eyes squeezed shut. Urgent and desperate and pleading, his arms hold onto you as if the world will swallow you, take you away.

You wish to tell him that’ll never happen, so you do. Your arms loop around his neck on their own accord, your lips pushing back against his in an agonizing battle of your desire and his as you tug at his skin, fingers raking red over his back. Your palms flatten and touch the scars, tiny little things, the bullet hole from the heist in ‘08, the stabbing from the breaking and entering on Holder Street, some much older than that.

But then he pulls away, and your eyes open, cold air conditioned wind breathing against your burning skin as he tries to stop himself from kissing your aching mouth again.

He only succeeds on the second try.

His eyes are shadowed with fear and anguish, and you close your eyes, You don’t want to see that again. Not again. You hate the feeling in the very core of who you are. It feels like a personal attack, a graverobber digging up a coffin you want to remain hidden as his hands, on your neck, slide to your waist and he leans forward to kiss your cheek. His breath whispers over your chin. His thumb brushes away smeared lipstick from the corner of your mouth and you press your lips together, desperate to hold it in. Your eyes search his face, soak in every little blemish as his forehead knocks into yours.

His other hand plays with your wrist, gently pulling until your fingers interlock and he swallows, looking down at the chasm between you two. Your chests barely brush and yet you feel he is at one end of the world and you are at the other. You are at a stepping off point, and he sits on the other end of the lake.

The smell of him is everywhere, stale coffee and gum and Bearglove deodorant he buys whenever it’s on sale. You inhale sharply, softly, and all too quickly when your gazes meet. It catches in your throat, and you don’t know when your eyes began to burn but they do. His hand holds your face like a fragile little thing, and you find yourself grabbing at his arms, his waist, inked skin that runs for miles and scars that once gave you comfort and now give you heartbreak. You hold him because you are desperate and he holds you because he knows.

You beg, you beg him because you can read his mind and know his tongue, his eyes, his taste. You know his heat and wishes and darkest desires. It is why you cannot hear this — it’ll make it too real.

Do not break a broken thing, you plead. Do not stir up dust in the ruins of the dead. We know, we know, we know. We can live in denial. Don’t do it. Don’t, don’t, don’t—

“I still love you,” he mumbles forlornly, deliberately, at last, and your breath rattles in your chest. The weight that lifts is only momentary before it slams into you and you rip your hands away, fingers burning from lightning. The words barely sink in before your mouth opens, the response so automatic you nearly let it slip out. But he doesn’t let you. He merely kisses your forehead, and his lips press into some sort of smile written in the language of heartbreak and tragedy. It’s a language you wish you didn’t know so well. “You don’t have to say it back. I just wanted you to know.”

He grabs his black pullover and shrugs his injured shoulder. You’re left standing there, lips barely parted and still pulsing from the heat of his kiss despite how much you want to yell at him, scream for him to stay for just a moment more.

I want to say it back. I want to. I want you. I will.

I can’t.

Your legs are frozen to tile as he pauses at the door. Your head dips, eyes slipping closed as hot wet tears stream down your nose. He’s waiting. You know he is. He waits for a thing you cannot give him once again.

“I love you,” he whispers again, and this time the words bounce across walls and lockers, metal and ceramic before it reaches your hollow heart. The door swings open and shut.

You wonder how you can patch a broken heart with the very thing that broke it.

“Are you serious? Loki and I specifically said that we need surveillance on this guy.” It’s a bright 8 AM when you spit these words, collar twisted in your fist. “I know you’re stretched thin, but you gotta keep your word.” Your other hand grips a cup of steaming coffee you want to throw into the man’s face. Instead, you toss the dog collar onto his desk and hope the poison in your voice is enough.

“You said he was innocent.”

“And we also said we wanted surveillance on him. Look, you could’ve called either one of us. We’re a team for a reason. I could’ve went out and kept an eye on him. This was a stupid mistake, and I don’t want this to happen again.” You lean forward, fingers digging into the wood as you make sure the Captain is nearly shitting his pants. “You fucking know how important this case is to the both of us. Don’t fuck it up again.”

“What do you want?”

“You think we can do something different, tell us.”

“Detective, when’s the last time you slept?”

“Unimportant. We need to know where everyone is.” You slam your hand hard against the desk and the pens clatter before you straighten up, taking a long pull of your coffee.

“Point made.”

“Good. Communication lines—” You gesture between yourself and the Captain— “need to be open. I’m gonna work on finding the guy. Communication. You have my number.” Whipping around, you brush past your… the man who had confessed feelings he shouldn’t have and you sigh, leaning against the wall farther down the hall. You suck down the rest of your coffee, the warmth of it chilling your stomach.

He’s in a foul mood, you know, and you’re sure it’s about the dead dog you found last night. Or it could be the fact that you slept in a motel last night. TBD.

You hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep last night. You had sweated and tried sleeping naked, then got too cold and the covers hadn’t been enough. You tried to blame it on the shitty heater in the motel, but your body ached in a way you had only known to happen once before so you’d instead gone out for a late night stroll around the block to jog out the energy.

In the break room, you find it empty and you sigh, opening the fridge to check for food that hasn’t been claimed. Nothing. There’s a stack of icecream, but you’ll eat that later. Slamming the door shut, you catch your warped reflection in the metal. Your eyes are sunken and red, purple smearing your skin like someone punched you right in the sockets and your skin is dull and weepy. You gently probe at the swollen eyebags, tossing your coffee into the trash.

“Morning.” Spinning around, you spot him leaning against the door, hands shoved in his pockets. Concern is etched onto his face, but so is every hour he didn’t have as sleep.

“Good morning.”

Your eyes drift back to the trash can. You’d rather get tossed into a dumpster then face him right now. “I have… work to do.” You fucking hate this. No matter how much you try, you know that if your eyes meet his for even a split second, you won’t be able to control what happens next.

“Yeah, so do I.”

And you walk past him as if he means nothing. As if he does not stare holes into your back. As if you will not seek him out later because the two of you are moths and flames, gold to a thief, the moon and ocean, an inexplicable pull that defies the laws of every science.

“You’re only three hours into the tape.”

The man whips around in the office chair and you cross your arms, the corner of your mouth twitching. He turns around, pressing his face into his fingers as you walk into the dark room. You can see the tapes he’s watching, the ones you’ve obsessed over, and you blink, nose twitching at the sight of Alex Jones.

“You know this shit well,” he mutters. You place a hand on his injured shoulder, you don’t feel the foam padding but he stiffens and not from the pain. Cramps crawl up your arm and your fingers roll into a fist when you peel yourself off of him. “Fuck. I don’t… I don’t know if there’s something there that I’ve missed or—”

“You get any sleep last night?”

“Did you?”

Silence. He runs a hand over his face, leaning into his chair and you look down at him. All hard lines and soft edges, you want to touch him even though you know you’ll burn.

“Why’d you say it?” you ask softly. He doesn’t turn to look at you and you wrap yourself in your arms, squeezing hard enough as a reminder. “We agreed.”

“I know. I know, but— ”

“Detectives.” The two of you spring apart like you’re highschoolers caught fucking at prom and David digs a finger into his swollen eyes. He looks as fucking tired as you feel. “You’ve got a call.”

Sighing, he pauses the tape. “Right. Fuck, you… you don’t have to go.” You step back to give him room, and when he stands, you hate how much he towers over you. Hate how much you want to tell him he’s wrong. But instead, you nod.

“I’ll stay. You, go.”

Your eyes meet for just the briefest of seconds and he blinks hard. Running a hand over his mouth and chin, he nods and turns to go.

He’s muzzling himself. You hate it when he fucking does this, but now, you can’t do shit about it. Words that threaten to spill out of your mouth slam against your lips as you watch him leave, and you sit down where he did mere minutes ago, the warmth of him still lingering like a mist, a cloak.

You pretend you can’t think about him anymore. Love is not for men and women like you.

He goes to Value Mall every week, buys different sizes for kids -D x

Pays with cash, messes with mannequins. Gave her both our numbers. -D x

Thought I should let you know. -D x

I know. Thanks. -xx

Alright. I can go to a motel or whatever. -D x

No it’s okay. I wouldn’t mind if you were there -xx

David crawls into bed with you for the first time in more than twenty-four hours. His back presses against yours tentatively and you turn, the sheets twisting around your legs. Your arm wraps around his waist, eyes closing. His heart thuds underneath your ear, an echo that fits into the hollow of your ribs.

Peace lasts for two hours before you’re done pretending trying to sleep. For lunch, you grab a coffee from the cart near the hospital on the way to the station.

You don’t talk about what he said, pretend it never happened in some unspoken agreement, but you can read it in his eyes every time he thinks you’re not looking. You wonder if things were different, would he have told you still? Or would he have doomed himself to silence forever instead?

The answer to your question is ashes in your mouth.

tags: @woah-jess @jenlrose @mytinybaguette @arcaneloki

#fic: 1996 #prisoners #prisoners 2013 #detective loki #detective loki x reader #detective loki imagine #detective loki x you #detective loki x y/n #detective loki fanfiction #jake gyllenhaal #jake gyllenhaal x reader #jake gyllenhaal fanfiction #jake gyllenhaal fanfic #jake gyllenhaal imagine #jake gyllenhaal x you #jake gyllenhaal x yn #jake gyllenhaal x y/n #my writing

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townpostin · 2 months ago

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Kharkai River Surpasses Danger Level in Jamshedpur

Rising Water Levels Prompt Authorities to Issue Alert for Riverside Residents Key Points: • Kharkai River flows above danger mark • Subarnarekha River nears warning level • Officials urge caution for residents in flood-prone areas JAMSHEDPUR – District authorities issue alert as continuous rainfall causes rivers to swell, threatening nearby communities. The Kharkai River has surpassed its danger…

#Adityapur Bridge #Ananya Mittal #Featured #flood alert #Jamshedpur #Kharkai river #Mango Bridge #Monsoon #Subarnarekha River #water levels

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townpostin · 4 months ago

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Swarnrekha River Water Level May Rise on Sunday as Chandil Dam Set to Release 3500 Cusecs

Administration monitors Kharkai and Swarnrekha rivers as water release scheduled for Sunday The release of 3500 cusecs of water from Chandil dam into the Swarnrekha river is expected to cause a rapid increase in water levels. JAMSHEDPUR – Local authorities are on high alert as Chandil dam prepares to release 3500 cusecs of water into the Swarnrekha river on Sunday morning at 8 AM. As of Saturday…

#Adityapur Bridge water level #मुख्य #Chandil dam water discharge #East Singhbhum flood alert #Featured #Jamshedpur flood preparation #Jharkhand water management #Kharkai River water level #Mango Bridge water monitoring #monsoon preparedness Jamshedpur #river safety advisory Jamshedpur #Swarnrekha river water release

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atlanqueen · 5 years ago

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all hail queen mera

❛ 𝘐 𝘈𝘔 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘚𝘌𝘈 & 𝘕𝘖𝘉𝘖𝘋𝘠 𝘖𝘞𝘕𝘚 𝘔𝘌. ❜

LINKS.

AESTHETIC SIDEBLOG ∕ PLAYLIST

BASICS.

Given / Birth Name : Y'Mera Xebella Challa Nickname / Preferred Name : Mera, My Queen Alias(es) : Aquawoman Birthdate / Age : 26 June / Thirty-six Place of Birth : Xebel / “Dimension Aqua” : an extradimensional penal colony of Atlantis Current Location : Amnesty Bay, Atlantis Gender Identity : CIS Female, DFAB Sexual / Romantic Orientation : Morosexual / Panromantic Ethnicity / Race / Cultural Heritage: Atlantean / Xebellian, no one is entirely sure where the bridge to Xebel exists and it is often confused with the Bermuda Triangle. While this one path towards it, the more frequently used ( and the one accessible to Mera ) is located in the Indian Ocean, where there is actually a deeper history of wrecks. Split between the two, her appearance evokes this. As such, Mera’s ancestors often influenced the religions of ancient civilizations due to association with electricity and water ( Ixazaluoh, Atabey, Varuna ). Marital Status : Married Occupation : Queen of Atlantis / Crown Princess of Xebel Religious Beliefs : Polytheism is generally practiced among Atlantis / Xebel, Mera herself takes on a more “okay boomer” approach in regards to this, oftentimes bemoaning the clutter in the ocean caused by their dumbass relics. Essentially, Mera tends to believe in herself above most else and her devotion is to that as a ruler, or rather to the ocean she works in tandem with.

CHARACTERISTICS.

Height : 5′2″ Weight : This bitch is dense. Body Type / Build : Ectomorph / slim & toned Eye Color : Dark green / sometimes blue or white ( when chatting with Her... the ocean ) Hair Color / Texture : Red. Though her hair appears full and voluminous, it is coarse to the touch, she really does just luck out that it dries like that. Recognizable Features / Scars : She has tattoos up her hands / arms which look incredibly similar to henna, signifiers of her mastery of the various levels of Xebellian / Atlantean socerery ( they only appear when she is practicing. Additionally Mera has a few scars ( shoulder / abdomen / back ) from battles involving Tritan and Orm. Speech Patterns / Accent : While on the surface, Mera tends to speak in proper english. There is a hint of an accent, though being that it is not of the world it can’t exactly be placed. Mera tends to speak on the slower side, as she is not one who likes repeating herself. Languages Spoken : Her default is Atlantean or English, though she is capable of speaking all languages of the world ( it’s a whole thing ). Powers / Skills / Abilities : Atlantean Physiology ( amphibian nature, enhanced vision, enhanced hearing ); superhuman durability / speed / reflexes / stamina / agility / strength; hydrokinesis / liquid construct creation; low-grade telepathy ( can’t read minds but can communicate / typically works best in water ); ocean sensory ( can feel disturbances in the ocean ); water sense ( knows / communicates with bodies of water ); master combatant; historiographer; leadership Overall Health : Peak physical health

RELATIONSHIPS.

Order of Birth : Eldest Number of Siblings : One Father’s Status + Relationship : Ryus ( father, alive ). Though Mera was deeply devoted to her father all throughout her childhood, the affection could not be considered mutual. Expectations of her to rule a kingdom she was taught to also be disgusted by, along with his eagerness to marry her off / train her to be a queen assassin ultimately showed her his true colors. That being said, he was the greatest influence on her in her most formative years and her skills as a warrior and sorceress. She has made attempts to be the bridge between Xebel and Atlantis, making some strides in the area however his resentment over loss of control in his weapon has caused a bit of friction. Mother’s Status + Relationship : Circe ( mother, deceased ). Young enough when her mother died, Mera holds no memories of the world. She does, however, hold the sound of shells gifted to her upon coming of age as her most prized possession. Lammia ( paternal grandmother, deceased ). Mera’s maternal influence came from the Dowager Matriarch of Xebel. Mera held great affection for her grandmother and learned all skills as a politician through her. Sibling Status + Relationship : Hila ( identical twin sister, alive ). Their relationship is complicated -- with Hila having a rebellious nature and tendency to kick up trouble wherever she goes, though ultimately they do love each other. Loyalty / Affiliation : Atlantis, The Justice League.

PERSONALITY.

Astrological Sign: Cancer Sun, Capricorn Moon, Taurus Ascendant MBTI : INTJ-A Hobbies : Playing instruments ( flute, harp, Arthur taught her how to play piano ), Crowned Queen of being able to drink Tom Curry under the table. Bad Habits : Extremely picky eater, bickering as a love language Three Positive Traits : Dutiful, righteous, ambitious Three Negative Traits : Short-tempered, stubborn, pretentious Moral Alignment : Neutral Good

ASSOCIATIONS.

One Song : She’s Always a Woman - Billy Joel. One Quote / Piece of Art : Ocean Goddess - Jennylynn Fields. / “ She carries herself like a god. She is a composed ocean of waves that could become turbulent if you test her. ” One Fear : Losing the people she loves / incompetence One Strength : Leadership One Object : Shell of sounds, from her mother. One Place : Amnesty Bay Lighthouse One Food : Mango One Scent : Saltwater One Lucky Charm : Her engagement ring.

NOTES.

Born the Crown Princess of Xebel, a prison-kingdom known for active rebellion against Atlantis, it was banished to another dimension long before Mera was born. The people of Xebel are scavengers as a result ( it helps that the ‘bridge’ to this dimension lands in the Indian Ocean, whose warm waters have caused a lot of wrecks over the years ).

Sticking with movie canon, Atlantis is on a more feudalistic set-up

Mera’s betrothal to the next King of Atlantis ( Orm ) had been set before her birth. This was an effort to alleviate tension / build a pathway back towards Xebel reclaiming some glory.

Her mother died shortly after childbirth, Mera was thus raised by her father with help from his chief taskmaster, Leron and her grandmother Lammia.

Luck of the draw would leave her, the elder of the twins, tasked with winning over a kingdom inclined to look at her as a Princess of Garbage while her own domain began to mistrust her for spending her time in Atlantis. While following the traditional route in studying the power of hydrokinesis, Mera would also frequent the kingdom she was set to rule.

She was able to build a close relationship with Atlanna in this time, one of the few who ever accept Mera completely. And it is through this, as well, that her subsequent banishment became a defining moment in Mera’s life.

Her training as a warrior came to head at her coming of age, to prove herself worthy of being a queen. Tasked with killing the only other claim to the throne, she was sent to the surface.

It. Did. Not. Go. As. Planned.

A confusing series of dates later, Mera began to soften to the cause of the surface world and become more disillusioned to her place among her own, while encouraging the rightful heir to accept his place in both. Mera became a key advisor, and eventually was unburdened with the task of marriage by way of diplomacy.

Her placement in destroying the reign of a true Atlantean didn’t win her many friends in a kingdom whose nobles barely accept her, but she made due.

( And would you look at that, she ended up marrying a King of Atlantis after all, regardless. )

After two back to back wars defending Atlantis, Mera was coronated to begin a long reign of monarchy on equal footing, something the kingdom had rarely seen.

Though she does split her time between Atlantis and the surface, her priority is typically her kingdom. Mera takes her duty as a queen extremely seriously.

She joined the Justice League not long after Arthur, having proven her loyalty to the safety of the world as opposed to being a figurehead for the wills of the elite in her own.

As such, her identity is not publicly known ( disdain for being labelled as a mermaid abound ) and her stance on the Accords is to be in direct contradiction. Atlantis’ status as relatively unknown allows for certain anonymity while operating in these efforts.

#united task 001 #united intro #ic. study

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lantur · 5 years ago

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Stopped at a Starbucks in the middle of the day to charge my phone and just sit because I’m so exhausted. I haven’t had a chance to post on here outside of sharing pictures since I landed in Taipei on Friday night.

It’s been unreal. Some of my favorite moments—

Saturday - one-bite little fried crabs and coconut water fresh from the tender coconut in Yehliu, before exploring the Yehliu Geopark on the northern coast of Taiwan. The bright sunlight and bright blue ocean. The Yehliu Bao-an Temple a block away from the Geopark. Exploring Zhongzheng Park in Keelung, starting with the Zhuputan Temple, home of the midsummer ghost festival. The park is composed of three levels. The first two were mostly empty. I had no idea where I was going, so I just climbed set after set of stone stairs and kept running into small abandoned temples. Finally, I heard the sounds of a gong and children laughing, so I kept following that up, and eventually came upon the Grand Buddha Temple, with its enormous goddess and Shi Shi dog statues.

The temple is on one of the highest points in Keelung, and I had a great evening view of the city and harbor below me. I walked to the Keelung night market, my first night market!! and enjoyed crab thick soup, glutinous rice with shrimp and mushrooms, an oyster omelet, crab stir fry, and strawberries coated in a sugar glaze for dessert. There was a temple right in the middle of the Keelung night market.

Sunday - Walking through the city to Lungshan Temple, being awestruck by how beautiful it was, the scent of the incense and floral offerings in the air, the sounds of the hundreds of people around me praying. Walking to Chiang Kai-Shek Memorial Hall and Liberty Square and being amazed to see the blue and white gates in the middle of the city.

The stunning mountain views of Jiufen, the beauty of watching the sun set there, the alleyways and stray cats, the red lanterns against the twilight sky, having oolong tea at an outdoor balcony of an old tea house on a hill with views of the mountains and ocean. Having a blue popsicle with pineapple after night fell, looking out over the city lights. Getting back to Taipei, super exhausted, having braised mutton rice at a tiny place down the street from my hotel and being the only customer there. Being super happy because that was the day I learned “ni hao” for “hello” and “xiexie” for “thank you” and was able to use them!

Monday - the views on the train ride to Taroko Gorge, getting to see the forest, the coast, passing the temples in the forest. Getting to Taroko and being astonished by how much like Jurassic Park it looked. Heavy forest, mountains, clouds hanging so low they brushed the green peaks. The unique shade of blue of the river, the giant boulders the river flowed over and around, the steep cliffs of the gorge and the black and white striations on the rock.

Getting back to Taipei late, exhausted, visiting the Ximen Night Market and having delicious seafood dumplings in laksa soup, walking around the market and enjoying delicious onion pies and mango gelato for dessert.

Tuesday (today) - Waking up and walking an hour through the city on a gray, cool day, getting amazing iced grapefruit green tea as a treat on the way, until I got to the Dalongdan Bao-An Temple. This one was empty compared to Lungshan, and just as beautiful and ornate. I never wanted to leave. I felt so happy. Practicing calligraphy at the Confucius Temple down the street. A delicious lunch at Din Tai Fung.

That brings me to where I am now - sitting in a Starbucks, exhausted beyond belief, charging my phone. Going to get up soon and walk to the Huashan Creative 1914 Park on the way to Raohe Night Market, the Rainbow Bridge, and the Songshan Temple.

I’ve been so lucky to have all these moments. It’s been surreal, how amazing it’s been. I didn’t expect to feel so at home in Taipei, but I do. I’m so sad to leave tomorrow. The only reasons I’m going back are Derek and Wes!

#lanturing

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lucasxxbrown-blog · 5 years ago

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Desire, Pain and Ponies.

A non-fictional short story by Lucas Brown.

Light at the end of the dock? The statue? The bald bird? Was this my American Dream?

It did feel like a dream...

In April of 2019, my father was invited by NASA to photograph the launch of a rocket to resupply the ISS station. It all happened on an island called Chincoteague. (Chink-o-teeg).

It’s referred to as “Pony island”, apparently. The island is well known for two things; the Wallops flight facility that lies adjacent across the bay, and being home to a community of wild ponies. I didn’t know much about the island before I left. I had scanned satellite imagery before embarking and, to my luck, realized a massive wildlife reserve encompassed northern portion of the island. I wanted to go off into those woods the moment I saw them.

My father, brother and I drove about five hours from Portland, Maine, until we reached New York City. We stopped for lunch, pulling into “Liberty Diner”, a joint closeby to the Statue of Liberty. I decided to have a chicken and cheese sandwich (not the best idea). After eating, we drove to nearby Flag Plaza so my father could photograph the big green lady herself. I was indifferent to the photo op, and stayed in the car.

A few more hours of driving passed. While passing through Washington D.C, the roads and surrounding landscaped plateaued. We veered off of the main road as the sun loomed above the horizon. We drove through tall grass and old houses, on a winding road, while the mango-orange light of the sun blanketed the atmosphere. I put on Frank Ocean. It was a quaint, relaxing calm before the storm.

The sun, as well as the light, disappeared with a different corner. A barbed-wire topped fence, to my left, ran alongside a field of satellite dishes. We had made it. Our rental SUV took us over a long, relatively straight bridge that gapped the channel. The minute I saw the little downtown of Chincoteague, I knew I was just another mouse in the tourist trap.

It wasn’t anything big, or particularly special. Out of a string of 2-star seaside motels, one became our temporary home. The first night, I stepped out and smoked a joint. It was cool, and the wind howled. The entire hotel was composed of outdoor, wooden walkways, all organized in a rectangular manner. I wandered around, until the ground level deck lead me to a connected dock. It was T-Shaped, and sat in the velvet midnight, surrounded by fast-moving water. Yellow orbs, lanterns, poked along the perimeter. Stoned, I walked down the dimly lit corridor. The wind was at my back, pushing me to continue my journey. I was in awe.

At the far left end of the dock, I stood and stared into the immense darkness. Out of nothingness, I began to sing a song in a language I didn’t know, a language that didn’t really exist. Humming, murmuring it until it grew louder; channeling the depth of my subconscious. I was born a gemini, an air sign. I knew that this moment, this place and time, was exactly what I was supposed to be experiencing. I felt my connection to the Gaian spirit, as the gale sang softly through me intuitively. I had never felt anything like it before. An initiation.

The next morning, I puked up every bit of my stomach. It was the damn chicken and cheese from the day before. Even though my stomach was empty afterwards, I didn’t feel hungry. My brother asked if I wanted to go longboarding around the island. I figured this would be the only chance I had, until the launch the next day, to go off into the woods. Taking my camera bag, I said yes.

We skated three miles until my brother decided to go back to the motel. I continued on. It was an odd little beachside town. Not a lot of money in the area, only scattered (and run down) small businesses. But the colors were bright, that I enjoyed. I skated another two miles until reaching the reserve.

The reserve was quiet. Filled with tall, lush and green trees. I was exploring an area filled with other people, and I wanted to be completely alone. I continued to skate north, until I had to walk. I walked another mile, along a dirt path, parallel to the coastline. I went about a mile, and was searching for a sign to tell me it was time to stop. I kept going… until a bald eagle swooped down from a tree branch only ten feet in front and above me. I stepped off the path and found a lone tree. I wish I knew its species.

I sat under the tree and smoked a joint. I reached into my camera bag and opened a container of chocolate dusted cheerios. The chocolate was infused with THC. I ate the entire (big) bag, and two medical grade (THC infused) chocolates. All without knowing their THC content. All on an empty stomach.

I’ve always been one to push myself, to find new challenges. Been one for trying to kill, or dissolve, my ego (the enemy, it seems). One always open to change, especially that of my consciousness. For me, in the moment, this was it. What better way to open another doorway of metaphysical realms but to open the next door of 11-hydroxy metabolite, the most potent form psychoactive cannabis? I was ready to learn. To see. To be taught, to grow and develop from what I was doing to myself. I didn’t care about having a good time, or enjoying anything whatsoever. This was not about pleasure. In fact, it was the opposite. It was a mental masochistic choice.

After consuming my copious dose, I left. Walked back down the dirt path, and skated once I hit concrete. Once I neared the motel, the sychinicities in space-time began to pile up. I walked up the stairs, unlocked our door, and thought about what to do. I was immensely baked, even though it was a short time from when I had dosed. I wanted to be outside, so I stepped onto the porch. I wanted to be inside, so I went inside. Then, my high became uncomfortable. I wanted to be inside… but also outside. So I laid on the floor, on the brink of the doorway, and listened to the myriad of ocean birds squalling and squawking.

My concept of time was completely blown. The only conscious idea I was in was the moment. My father and brother returned simultaneously. I was now in my bed, trying to keep calm, trying to hold onto any drop of sanity. Miraculously, I held a conversation. They told me I looked sick, that I had a “greenish” coloration of my skin. I was asked if I wanted to join them driving mopeds around the island. I was worried I would ruin their fun if I said no. That they really wanted me to come, and that staying in the hotel “sick” would ruin the trip. So I agreed.

After leaving the motel room, the first few steps down the stairs were a complete weightless energy vortex. I was barley connected to my nervous system, let alone the physical components attached to it. Right then and there, I should have turned around and gone back inside. I was still on an empty stomach. I hadn’t consumed any water, even though I tried, my mental state wouldn’t let me. I had tried to chew a granola bar, but my mouth was so dry I couldn’t do it. But I had convinced myself that I could walk it off. So walk we did.

We walked about a mile until reaching the moped rental store. I was quiet the whole time. Upon arrival, it hadn’t worn off. But it had leveled down, so I thought I could fight through. We stood inside the store. It was hot, bright, and cramped. I pointed out the moped I wanted. My brother and father were standing in front of me, with the attendant at the desk. I began to feel nervous, and further away from my body than I had ever been. I was hungry, thirsty, and only functioning off THC ladent cheerios.

This is from what my father told me afterwards, as I don’t remember much. Standing in front of me and looking back, he asked me a question. I didn’t (couldn’t) respond. I gave a blank stare. He asked again, confused. I proceeded to pass out and fall to the ground. I fell hard. The moment I hit the floor I instant relief and immense fatigue. Apparently I almost took out a merchandising rack on the way down. Kind of would have been funnier if I did.

My brother bent down to my aid. He told me it “looked like I was having a seizure”, that my “eyes were rolling in the back of my head.” Still on the floor, my eyes half open and shut, I heard the ocean birds cawing, as if they were flying in circles above my head. There were no birds.

I can’t remember how long it took me, but I got up. The man working in the store was quite friendly. They helped me outside and he brought a chair for me to sit in. My father took off running, ran back to the motel where the car was parked. I hadn’t said anything yet. While waiting, I tried to think. About where I was, what I was doing. What was going on. But nothing came to mind. I was still present tense, the blessing and curse that it was. Higher than I have ever been. My brother stood next to me. He was relatively content. He tried asking questions, but I couldn’t muster to say much. We watched cars go by. Finally, my father arrived. When I entered the car, he told me we were going to a “quick care” unit on the island. I protested, but I was in no state to make any decisions.

He asked me what I had took. At this point, he knew of my cannabis use. He knew that I would occasionally take edibles, and that this might be something along those lines. I told him it was “CBD gummies” that must have been bad. When we got to the hospital, he forced me to take a urine test. I don’t remember peeing in a cup, which is weird. As we were waiting for the results, I told him I had accidentally taken THC gummies instead of CBD. I wasn’t sure how to explain to my dad what I had eaten, that I had no idea what milligram they were, that nothing I told him would make sense. I was still baked and out of it.

So I just said “I took nine.”

He wasn’t very happy with that. Or any of the decisions I made. He later found the other two joints I had and flushed them down the toilet. Kept going on and on about how I could have passed out on the moped. He was right. But something, some metaphysical force, kept me off those mopeds, and with the birds instead. After the hospital, we went back to the motel. I threw up again, and thankfully afterwards managed to eat. My dad was considering going home right then and there, but I assured him I just needed rest.

The next morning, thankfully, my dad decided to stay. He let my brother and I go to a different moped rental store, and only let me rent a tricycle so I “wouldn’t tip over.” My brother and I scooted around the island while my father prepared for the launch. At 3, or maybe 4, we got on the boat that would take us out to see the launch. Only it took us to the far, beachy end of the wildlife reserve. I sat between limbs of wood, both belonging to the land and the sea. I took my shoes off and stared at the pulsing shore. I still wasn’t sure how to feel. The other spectators in our group began to get louder, and I looked up. The massive rocket took off over the baby blue on dark blue horizon. And then we went back.

I wish I could say we just drove home, but my purgatory wasn’t over yet. There isn’t really any point getting into what happened between then and when I got home. But I didn’t enjoy myself, mostly due to my bodies own issues, and issues with the food I was consuming. In one piece, though, I made it home.

If I had decided to not eat what I had, I wouldn’t be writing this. We would have rented mopeds that day, and the second day. Still would have got on the boat and seen the launch. Still would have gone to Washington D.C on our way home. But all of that would have come and gone and been eventually forgotten. It would have been without a story or potent memory to hold onto… if I didn’t eat those cheerios.

Although at some level I regret what happened, I don’t wish it any other way. I did exactly what I set out to do. I reset my consciousness as fully as I had anticipated. It definitely could have gone better if I had chosen to stay in the motel. I may have had consequences, may have had to throw myself through the ringer… but pain is growth.

Also, I hate ponies now.

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mariakristineceledonio-blog · 5 years ago

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Disaster Ready? That Maybe my Community

While many students await for class suspension announcements as dark clouds loom over the neighborhood, worries and anxiety arise among others in the community. Such feelings can often only be consoled by the promise of safety and security. As in the case at telabastagan, san fernando, pampanga, people especially in households near creaks and rivers, become troubled whenever typhoons are being reported to arrive. This, however, is not the only natural disaster that has been subjecting the people to disturbance and problems. Last April 2019, a 6.2 magnitude earthquake has shaken the lives of the people in the community. Turmoil, asset destructions, and injuries has lead the people into an abrupt pause from their busy lives. I could still remember the sound of the furniture shattering as they fall off to the ground, and the feeling of adrenaline as my system clamoured for an immediate response. Immediately, i have deduced that it is not a memory that someone would want to relive. As though natural disasters aren’t enough, the barangay captain has mentioned that our community has also been battling against criminal and fire issues. This lead me to think...

What has been the primary reason behind these disaster-induced challenges?

Visiting the barangay hall to conduct an interview, has shed light to this question. Unlike fire and crimes, natural disasters are definitely not something that is within the control of any citizen in the community, not even the authoritative figures such as the barangay officials. Although technology and different broadcasting media have been a lot of help in identifying, and preparing for these disasters, subsequent problems still varies in degree because some people in the barangay are relatively more vulnerable to disasters than others. One factor that has been rendering the people susceptible was their location. As has been said above, those living around creeks and rivers tend to be more adversely affected especially during typhoons because the water level increases faster in their area. Another factor which impedes the preparation of the community, and thus makes them more vulnerable, was the lack of funds. According to the official, whenever strong typhoons strike, not only the health and physical stability of the citizens become at stake. Several community infrastructures (i.e. buildings, roads, and bridges) as well as the livelihood of the people tend to also be negatively affected. This, along with other concerns, have in turn, rendered the community in need of more financial assistance and better monetary allocation strategies.

Despite this, are we resilient enough to combat what the disasters may bring?

There’s no telling how exactly severe the disasters are and who specifically are going to be in grave situations. However, as one community, a culture of preparedness is fostered in order to mitigate as much risks as possible. In lieu with their duty as public servants, the Barangay officials conduct conferences/ meetings with rescuers, members of BDRMM and Bantay Bayan in order to plan the necessary measures to take during times of devastating calamities. Guided by the BDRRM Council, Public Information office and other concerned organizations, resources provided by the government are also being maximised, to establish a disaster ready and safe environment. One helpful investment that was mentioned was the installment of CCTV cameras. This has been effectively used in not only decreasing crime rates, but also in keeping track of people who violate rules on proper trash disposal. In a way, it has aided in establishing discipline among the people.

Does the lifestyle of the people coincide with what the BDRMM plan calls for?

As i tread my way through the community, i have observed the simplicity and yet quaint living of the people which have remained unknown to me in the past years. I even passed by a family who clustered in front of their house to harvest mangoes. It was a beautiful sight which reminded me of how togetherness could bring about value to what we are doing. It was also impressive that there aren’t much litter in the streets. This, I could say has been reflective on the improving attitude of the people towards nature and their surrounding. However, as there is no such thing as a perfect community, there are still sites which poses possible risks in the long run. Specifically, there was a bridge in the community which is built over a water full of trash. Just like in our country in general, the problems on pollution hasn’t been completely eliminated despite the projects that has been launched in the past years. For instance, despite the regulation regarding the prohibition of plastic usage, plastic garbages among others could still be seen on several areas. This only shows that there is still lacking in the plan we’re currently implementing. Both parties (i.e. government and the public) as a result needs to address this in ways possible.

What the government can do:

Strengthen law enforcements regarding sustainability/ environmental protection

Increase funds for BDRRM plans

Conduct regular evaluations on the readiness of municipalities/barangays for disasters

What You and I can do as members of the community:

Support the projects of the Barangay and the government which we deem to serve the common good.

Voice out our ideas on ways to improve the plans regarding disaster risk reduction, and management.

Spread awareness regarding disaster readiness.

Provide relief goods, first aid and other assistance to the less fortunate in the community, especially at times of calamities.

These are only some of the possibilities which we could engage ourselves in, in order to help better the world we live in. By exerting our utmost efforts, our collective prowess and intellect could eventually bring us to the ideal prospects we each have in mind.

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royaltealovingkookiness · 6 years ago

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30 Days of Zutara - Day 19: Dragons

“I hate you,” the little princess yelled at his brother and ran towards the house with tears running down her face.

“What’s going on, Ziyi?” Both children stopped at the voice of their grandfather who was watching them from the doorstep. The girl stepped closer and he crouched down to the level of the children, drying her tears.

“Iroh is telling me that only firebenders can be dragons,” the little princess cried.

“Is that true?” Zuko turned to his grandson with a stern gaze.

“Well, dragons are the original firebenders. That’s just how it is,” shrugged the boy.

“It’s true that dragons are firebenders, but they are so much more than that,” the former fire lord explained, “They are creatures of storm and lightning.”

“What do you mean?” the boy frowned.

“Have I ever told you the story of Druk’s birth?” Zuko asked his grandchildren.

A pair of golden and a pair of blue eyes looked at him curiously. “No, grandpa, you never told us.”

“Well, it started with the pirates,” he smiled as they sat on the steps of the small courtyard of the Ember Island summer house.

“You are telling it all wrong. It started before that…” Katara interrupted with a tray of cool watermelon juice.

“Who’s telling this story?” Zuko frowned.

“You are obviously not telling it right, Zuko,” grinned Katara.

“I’m telling it just fine,” he grumbled. “So there I was on the pirate ship, trying to find the stolen treasure, then suddenly I was surrounded by at least ten pirates.”

“What did you do?” asked Iroh, eyes wide with excitement.

“I pulled out my swords,” Zuko sprang to his feet, demonstrating the stance waving his imaginary dao blades.

“And then I saved you,” interrupted Katara.

“I was doing just fine,” he glared back at her.

-0-

Dragontail Bay, 35 years ago

Zuko crept along the ship, silently like a spirit. Well, he was the Blue Spirit again, even if for just one night. The voice of the pirates, drinking and singing echoed over the water. He crawled to the level below the deck, and sure enough, he found the treasures stolen from the sun warriors in the little storage room next to the kitchen. He pulled out his sack and packed the precious stones inside it. He used his sword to take the golden egg-shaped stone, remembering the glue-flood from the previous time he touched it.

He tied up the sack, and inched back up to the deck, trying to climb down to the small boat that he paddled out to the pirate ship. As he was about to lower himself with the rope, he found himself eye to eye with the ugly green lizard-parrot. The hideous creature screeched. Suddenly Zuko was surrounded by pirates. He dropped the sack on the floorboard and pulled out his dao swords, ready for action.

Before he could attack, a figure covered in black jumped in front of him, seemingly out of nowhere.

“I’ll save you from the pirates,” her voice was gently mocking, as a pair of big blue eyes shined at him through the slit of her mask. She raised her hands and two giant waves crashed over the pirate ship, sending the pirates into the water.

“I was handling them...” Zuko grumbled. “How did you know I was here?”

“I have my ways,” she grinned. “Suki told me.”

“I’ll fire her,” muttered Zuko. This was his chance to get out and do something other than tedious paperwork and endless grin-and-shake. He begrudged the women in his life treating him like some helpless damsel-in-distress.

“I guess that’s why they call you the Fire Lord,” Katara retorted.

Zuko rolled his eyes. “Leave the jokes to Sokka. Or you know what, you are both equally terrible…It must be that South Pole moonshine…”

Katara shrugged and looked around. “So what are we looking for?”

“I already found it,” Zuko motioned to the bag. “The stolen sun warrior treasure. Can you bend the ship northeast?”

“You see, you do need me,” she smiled, visibly pleased with herself as she started to steer the ship in the direction Zuko pointed at. “So what are these treasures?”

Zuko opened the bag. “I’m not really sure. But the sun-warrior chief was pretty worried. When I last touched one of them, I spent the night glued to a window with a very grumpy Avatar.”

“I’m sure that was an enlightening chat,” Katara laughed.

“Well, Aang complained that he had to pee the whole time.”

Katara made a face. “Eew, thanks for oversharing. I really didn’t need to know that.”

Zuko grimaced at the reprimand and pulled out the golden egg-shaped gem. “I think it was this one. It felt alive.”

Katara touched her hands to the stone, then her expression became puzzled. “Because it is alive, Zuko. I can feel a heartbeat inside.”

-0-

“So you returned the treasures, then what?” asked Ziyi.

“Then came the interesting part. Because as it turns out the treasure with the beating heart inside it was the first viable dragon egg in many many years.”

“But since your grandfather was the first…” Katara interrupted again.

“You are telling it wrong.” Zuko looked at her with a frown and turned back to the children. “Since I was the first one to touch it, I was the only one who could hatch it.”

-0-

Sun Warrior Island, 35 years ago

Zuko honestly expected a bit more fanfare as he returned to the sunwarrior island with the sack full of treasure. Ham Gao unceremoniously snatched the sack out of his hand, and peeked inside. He took out the egg-shaped gem with a frown on his face and handed it over to the Chief.

The Chief held it in his hand for a long moment muttering to himself and looking rather worried. Then he turned to Zuko. “You have to hatch it, otherwise it will die.”

“What do you mean hatch it? Like a turtleduck? Sitting on the nest?” he squeeked.

-0-

Katara imitated Zuko’s grimace and the children giggled.

“I did not say that,” Zuko protested.

“Oh, yes you did.”

“I thought, I’m telling the story,” he grumbled.

“Just continue, please!” exclaimed Iroh.

-0-

The sun warrior chief looked at Zuko like he was suggesting to dress the dragons in pink kimonos.

“No.” He said on his booming voice. “Dragons are born in storm and lighting.”

Zuko looked at the bright blue sky. “But it’s a clear day,” he said matter-of-factly.

Katara interrupted. “I can try to bend the clouds for you.” Zuko sighed. Of course, she could.

The sun-warriors for the first time seemed to notice her presence. Zuko muttered a belated introduction. “This is Katara from the Southern Water Tribe. She’s a friend.”

Ham Gao looked at them with a knowing grin. “If you say so.”

“There is just one problem,” Zuko stared at his feet, as if the black boots could reveal a solution to his dilemma.

“What?” He squirmed uncomfortably under the gaze of the Chief.

“I don’t know how to make lightning...” he admitted quietly, feeling horribly inadequate and cursing all the spirits that Katara was a witness to his humiliating defeat.

“Well, that’s just great,” Ham Gao sneered.

“Let me talk to him,” Katara told the sun warriors and pulled Zuko aside. “What do you mean you don’t know? Everyone in your family knows,” she whispered.

“Well, I don’t - OK?” yelled Zuko and all the sun-warriors stared at them. The Chief shook his head. “Actually, I know in theory, I could just never do it,” Zuko added on a lower voice.

“Have you tried?” Katara put her hand gently on his shoulder, her blue eyes looking at him with concern as if she was trying to calm down a toddler throwing a tantrum

“Of course I tried,” exclaimed Zuko again.

“Fine, just asking, don’t bite me. What does your uncle say?” she asked.

“He said that I had to get rid of the turmoil inside me. Which is ridiculous, because I don’t have any turmoil,” Zuko continued with agitation. “I mean, we ended the war, things are getting better, everything should be fine now. I should be able to do lightning, and still….” his voice trailed off.

Katara listened to his tirade then grabbed his hand. “I think I can try to help you with that.”

“How?” Zuko sighed.

“Do you trust me?” she asked and he nodded silently. “Then let’s go.”

They climbed the stairs all the way to the top of the bridge that connected the dragon lairs and laid down the egg in the middle.

Katara waved her hands around rhythmically, until dark clouds gathered over their heads. Zuko watched with amazement the dancing girl and the gathering clouds. She made it look so effortless and he couldn’t even make a tiny miserable lightning. Struggling made him stronger, but he wished lately that he didn’t have to struggle quite so much with everything.

“Ready?” Her voice interrupted his internal monologue.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” he grimaced.

She stepped closer to him and whispered, “Close your eyes.” Zuko obeyed. A moment later, he felt her lips brushing his softly, almost chastely. Zuko leaned into the kiss. It was sweet like mango and salty like sea prunes. It felt like home with warm fires and cool water, everyone eating dinner together and nobody challenging each other to agni kais. It felt like being complete.

“Do you feel calmer?” her voice filled him with confidence.

“I do,” he rasped, resting his forehead against hers.

“I believe that you can do this Zuko,” she whispered and squeezed his hands.

Zuko reluctantly broke the contact. He stepped back, took a deep breath and concentrated on her kiss, that suspended moment of complete calm, like the sea before the storm. Like the blue of her eyes.

“Bend the clouds,” he told her.

The moment he felt the raindrops falling on his face, he circled his hand and surrendered to the energy coursing through his veins. This was it - the collision of water and fire. The messy soup of creation. He watched himself almost from the outside, as a bright blue electric spark zigzagged from his fingertips, straight to the egg.

The eggshell broke, and moments later a little red scaly face peeked out from the golden fragments, blinking curiously with golden eyes.

Zuko smiled as he kneeled next to the baby dragon. “Hi, little one.” He softly caressed the scaly head with his fingertips. The dragonskin felt warm and dry, just like the rubbery surface of his own scar. Zuko felt exhilaration; if dragons could be brought back from the edge of extinction, maybe there was hope to undo the rest of his family’s dark legacy.

“He’s adorable,” giggled Katara. “Congratulations, you got yourself a baby.”

“You mean, we got ourselves a baby,” Zuko corrected her. It was both a question and a plea.

“I guess.” Katara conceded. “What shall we call him?”

“Druk. Thunder dragon”

“I like that,” she linked her fingers into his.

-0-

“So you see? That’s why dragons are children of both lightning and storm. Waterbenders have as much claim to them as firebenders.” Zuko finished the story.

“Especially when it comes to midnight feedings,” Katara injected.

“And since Ziyi is waterbender, just like your grandmother,” Zuko smiled at Katara, “she has as much right to be a dragon as you, Iroh. I don’t want any more arguments about it. You understand?”

The boy nodded solemnly. “I promise.”

Ziyi smiled proudly. “Grandpa, can we go dragon-riding tomorrow?”

“If your grandmother agrees…”

“Sounds fun…” Katara hugged her grandchildren. “More watermelon juice?”

Full collection - AO3

#atla #atla fanfic #30daysofzutara #zutara month 2018 #zutara #zuko #katara #druk #brusselssprout writes #post-series AU #mother and father of dragons

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