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harringtonlovers · 1 year ago

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COME AND GET YOUR LOVE | STANCY

chapter 1

“ a sacred space ”

ao3

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Nancy slammed her bag onto the ground, immediately slumping into her seat. Her eyes darted over to the nearest wall, searching for the clock. School was about to start in less than twenty minutes, yet here she was in the guidance counselor's office due to concern. The concern revolved around the fact that her application to Emerson College was almost complete, but she refused to submit it. She needed multiple eyes on it, nitpicking and editing everything. Were her extra circulars too much? Did she lack in the sports department? What if they didn't care she was a part of the school paper since freshman year? The world was full of possibilities, and Nancy hated the outcomes.

Blinking slowly, her baby blues stayed glued to the clock. She huffed, strands of her hair cascading over her forehead. Her lip pouted slightly, letting her fingers drum against the wooden chair handle. The anxiety escalated whenever her guidance counselor made any kind of noise. A shift in her seat, a clearing of the throat, or even a sniffle. Nancy didn't want to hear any noise unless it was positive. Her eyes pulled away from the clock, immediately locking with the guidance counselor. "So?"

Her guidance counselor, Ms. Kelley, had always had Nancy's best interest at heart. She was brutally honest but always managed to have a smile on her face. Nancy admired her sense of style, envious of her sweaters and long skirts. It didn't help that Nancy had wanted to switch her style for years now but always found herself too busy to go shopping out of her comfort zone. Ms. Kelley cleared her throat once again, placing the application down on her desk. "It's great."

Nancy sat up in her seat. The girl leaned forward, an eyebrow cocked suspiciously. "Great? That's all?"

Ms. Kelley tried her best to avoid eye contact but she failed miserably. It was hard to resist Nancy Wheeler and her puppy dog eyes. "Your statistics are spot on, you've been a part of many clubs at school. You make it clear you have a passion for journalism due to being a part of the newspaper for years. Letters of recommendation look fantastic." She paused. "However, your tutoring. It says you only tutored for a semester back in your junior year. That's all you did as far as tutoring?"

Nancy paused. She pursed her lips, leaning back in her chair. "Yeah...I just got too busy and I—"

"Too busy?"

Nancy gulped. "Uh, yeah."

Ms. Kelley smiled softly. "How do you think you'll manage college then?"

Nancy tilted her head to the side. "What are you talking about?"

"College. It's all about time management. Getting a job all while learning, studying, and socializing. It can start to be a lot, Nancy. And I'm scared that could be a turn-off for the school. They may view it as irrelevant due to the fact that you were unable to continue because you couldn't handle it. Do you understand?"

The brunette stared. She didn't feel that the negative of her application was valid. It seemed unfair that Emerson College could potentially reject her just because she didn't tutor for longer. But Ms. Kelley had been doing this for years and get kids into the top schools in the country. She trusted her guidance counselor with her life. Nancy also looked up to Ms. Kelley, wanting to be some kind of version of her someday. The badass, independent woman that was passionate about her job. "I understand."

Ms. Kelley nodded before folding her hands over her desk. "Any thoughts on picking up tutoring again? It wouldn't hurt to continue doing the job since you've lacked in that experience."

Nancy winced. She knew that she was too caught up in her school to even think about job experience. The girl thrived in her high school's journalism class but wondered if she was going to be able to handle actually working in a journalism workplace. "It wouldn't hurt, no."

"Perfect!" Ms. Kelley chirped.

Even though Nancy loved her counselor, the teenager was finding it hard to cope with her right now. Ms. Kelley loved everything but the fact that Nancy barely had any experience with working. There were plenty of people who worked their asses off in school and didn't work but still got into their dream schools. Right?

"How should I..." Nancy cleared her throat. "Promote this?"

Ms. Kelley shrugged. "I can reach out to a few of the kids I see who seem to be struggling. If anyone is going to teach them, it'll be you."

Nancy nodded to the sound of the first bell going off. The girl looked over at the clock, sighing a bit. She would do anything to skip homeroom just so she could disappear into journalism and her other classes. But she knew she had to go to homeroom to keep her perfect attendance record. "I guess I better get going, hm?"

Ms. Kelley nodded with a bright smile. "Of course."

Nancy grabbed her bag, slinging it over her shoulder as she stood up from the chair. The girl felt defeated. She had been working on this application since summer and it still wasn't perfected. The visits to Ms. Kelley were becoming more frequent, averaging twice a week. Nancy always made sure to come early in the morning so she had as much time as she could in case of criticism and feedback. She thought today would've been the last day but now Nancy knew she would be returning by the end of the week.

The brunette flashed a grin to Ms. Kelley before turning her back. "I'll come back later to see about my new job."

She made her way toward the door before Ms. Kelley's voice stopped her. "Nancy?"

The girl spun around, hand lingering on the doorknob. "Yes?"

"Try not to be too hard on yourself. I can see it in your eyes. You're exhausted and you need a break. College isn't everything, you know? Your future is big and bright, no matter where you end up. Emerson College is your dream but just remember that everything happens for a reason. So try not to let this hang over your head, yeah? It's your senior year. Go have fun!" Ms. Kelley smiled.

Nancy flared her nostrils. Her guidance counselor had basically told her to not worry about her future because it wasn't important. But all Nancy seemed to do was worry about the future. Her intense fear of rejection halted her from living in the moment but it was the only thing she knew. The only thing she was familiar with.

Nancy struggled to come up with a response. It was hard to not worry about not getting into her dream college. It was the end all or be all for her. "Yeah," she paused. "Yeah, I'll try."

Ms. Kelley's smile faded a bit before nodding. "For me, yeah?"

Nancy nodded before glancing at the clock. "I can't miss homeroom."

Ms. Kelley fluttered her hands at Nancy, sending her out of the room. "No worries, Nancy. Could you let my next appointment in? He should be waiting outside the door."

Nancy nodded before exiting the room. She waved goodbye to her guidance counselor before shutting the door completely. As the door closed, she let out a heavy sigh. The girl knew she had a few moments to spare before she had to rush off to class. She took her time to calm herself down. Taking three deep breaths, Nancy felt as good as she was going to be. Still shaky, she backed away from the door.

The girl always felt that it was her destiny to attend Emerson College. Ever since she was a young girl, Nancy snooped. She loves to know what was going on in the neighborhood, creating stories to report to her family for fun. As she grew older, her ability to write only grew stronger. She always carried some type of notebook so she could jot down anything that popped into her head or whatever was unfolding in front of her. And when she heard about Emerson College from Ms. Kelley, Nancy knew she was meant to go there.

"Is she done?"

Nancy looked up and locked eyes with the person she least expected to be in the guidance counselor's area. "Excuse me?"

The guy sighed, leaning down to grab his bag. "Ms. Kelley. Is she done?"

The coldness in his voice caused Nancy to furrow her eyebrows. She crossed her arms over her chest, not surprised at all that Steve Harrington was acting the way he did. "I just left the office, didn't I?"

Steve Harrington stood up, stretching out his limbs. His back cracked, causing Nancy to cringe. Dark, chocolate locks slumped on his head, a bit messy but still looked put together with some gel and hairspray. He wore gray sweatpants with a Hawkins High cut-off tank top. The boy matched his outfit with white Allstars and sealed the outfit with his letterman jacket. "Didn't know if I was next, sweetheart."

Nancy rolled her eyes. Oh, how she despised Steve Harrington. He held the title of the school's "golden boy." The boy had everyone wrapped around his finger: the girls wanted him, the boys wanted to be him and the teachers adored him. He was charming and full of spunk, all wrapped up with a devilish grin and his worn-out varsity jacket. He excelled in sports, being a part of the track and field team and basketball team since middle school.

Steve never failed to make a lasting impression. Nancy and Steve had been in the same class since grade school and for some reason, Steve always chose not to acknowledge her. They went their two separate ways, joining completely different crowds. All Nancy knew was that Steve was known for getting with various amounts of girls and then ditching them as soon as he was done with them. All things about Steve rubbed her the wrong way and Nancy vowed to keep a safe distance from him.

"Please don't call me sweetheart, Jackass." Nancy cocked an eyebrow at him before heading toward the exit.

Steve scoffed. "God, you better go before you're late for homeroom!"

Nancy flashed Steve her middle finger before walking out of the office. She knew flipping him off was the last thing she should've done, especially in the front office where loads of faculty members worked, but it felt good. After her intense conversation with Ms. Kelley, Nancy needed to get her pent-up energy somehow, someway. Steve just happened to have fallen into her web, suffering the consequences of Nancy Wheeler's anger.

———

"He what?!" Robin exclaimed, slamming her locker shut.

Nancy nodded, shoulder leaning up against the lockers next to Robin's. "Yup. So uncalled for."

"Well, what did you say?"

"I called him a jackass then walked away. Good enough, huh?"

Robin shook her head. "Maybe a kick to the nuts next time would help."

Nancy let out a chuckle.

Robin Buckley had been her friend for ages. The blonde had moved to Hawkins long ago, being placed into Nancy's second-grade class in the month of January. All the brunette remembered from that day was that Robin wore layers-on layers, making her walk funny. Her hands stuck out, unable to move without waddling side to side. The kids giggled, causing Robin to blush. But Nancy offered the seat next to her, and the rest was history.

The girls had done everything together. Sleepovers and study sessions. Dance parties in Nancy's basement and scary movie nights in Robin's living room. Robin went to Nancy with everything, rambling and ranting for hours on end. Nancy provided feedback and advice, sealing the conversation with the biggest hug she could offer. Her ability to generate warm hugs always came in handy, especially when Robin came out to Nancy during the Summer of 1982.

The two tried their best to coordinate classes, but their interests were on complete opposite spectrums. The only classes that seemed to line up were math classes, an extra elective, and lunch periods. Nancy was placed in more advanced classes, wanting to pack in a tight schedule so she could study for hours. On the other hand, Robin struggled to keep up with her classes due to being a part of the band and working more than half of the week.

Robin was the first out of the two to get their license, so she was the designated driver until Nancy was granted hers a few months after. They switched on and off, carpooling together to school and driving late at night with the windows down, and music up. It remained one of their favorite past times.

Their social circles barely ran into one another's. Robin resided in the band while Nancy dominated the journalism world at Hawkins High. Robin was infamous for her trumpet playing, earning the first chair every year since sixth grade. Because she was involved with the band, Robin somehow grew to love sports. Basketball was her favorite due to the wild crowd and fast-paced energy that engulfed the gymnasium. Plus, she got to watch Steve Harrington dominate the court. However, due to Nancy's hatred toward Steve, Robin felt uneasy about him.

The boy had always been nice to Robin, flashing a weak smile or giving a quick head nod. However, Steve managed to ignore Nancy with all of his power. Whenever he did acknowledge her, though, he had a scowl on his lips and would mutter some kind of nickname under his breath. Robin never fully understood the drama between the two of them. All she knew was that Steve Harrington ruined her life in first grade, and the rest was history. Nancy was known to hold onto grudges.

The bell rang causing Nancy to groan. "Off to journalism."

Robin cocked an eyebrow with a sly smirk. "Why the groan, Wheeler? Isn't journalism the love of your life?"

Nancy rolled her eyes. "No, it's Tom Cruise."

Robin let out a sigh before cackling. "Funny. Seriously, what's wrong with journalism?"

The two began their walk down the hallway toward their classes. Nancy hugged her books close to her chest, eyes diverting around the halls. "Nothing it's just..." the girl sighed. "I had a meeting with Ms. Kelley today, and I—"

"Again? Jesus, Nance, you're gonna wear yourself thin. Does she even help? I feel that you can plan your future way better without her. Guidance counselors use any meeting to tell you what you're doing wrong. Do you really want to be in that kind of environment?" Robin rambled.

Nancy shook her head, a wide smile on her lips. Opposites did attract, especially when it came to situations like this. Nancy listened as Robin spoke. It was a match made in heaven. "Rob, it's fine. I just go for some advice and peace of mind. Anyways, she wasn't pleased with my resume once again."

"See! Total bullshit, Nance."

"Rob!" Nancy hissed. "She thinks I don't have enough experience when it comes to working. Like, remember when I did tutoring for a semester? She thinks that Emerson won't find that good because I gave up on it. And because of that, I focused all my attention on school so I never worked an actual job. Now, Emerson is going to reject me because I'm not as well-rounded as I thought!"

Robin stopped in her tracks, grabbing Nancy's wrist to hold her still. "Nancy Ruth Wheeler!"

"Not my middle name."

"You!" Robin sighed before pointing her finger at Nancy. "You are so bright. You're excellent at school and you excel in journalism. You write about anything and everything, and holy shit you're so nosy. But without people like you, we wouldn't know what's happening in the world! Who cares that you barely have any job experience? If Emerson doesn't want you because of that, then they don't deserve you. You understand?"

Nancy's smile only grew as Robin continued to talk. Her insecurities always got the best of her but Robin always knew how to bring her back down to earth. The two truly got along perfectly and Nancy wouldn't trade their friendship for the world. That's why it only made going to Emerson more complicated because Robin was still unsure of her future. No matter what, Nancy would always support her. "How do you always know the right words to say?"

"Because I'm awesome, smart, beautiful, charming...the list could go on and on."

Nancy rolled her eyes before letting one of her arms hang around Robin's neck. The girl pulled her best friend in close, giving her a tight side hug. Nancy dragged her best friend down the hall, holding her closer than ever. "You're the best, Buckley."

"And you're the best, Wheeler." Robin smiled, all teeth and more. "Come on, we must go off to our favorite classes."

"I thought you hated history."

"Oh absolutely. But at least there's some eye candy, yeah?" Robin winked.

Nancy snorted. "Any luck with Vickie?"

Robin placed a finger over her lips. "Hush, Wheeler! You'll jinx it!"

Nancy let go of Robin, shooting her hands in the air for defense. "Just a question!"

Robin winked. The two approached Nancy's class and Robin snapped her fingers toward the front door. "Here you are, Miss. Wheeler!"

"Why thank you." Nancy curtsied. "Good luck in class, Buckley. Meet up before lunch?"

"Absolutely." Robin signaled to Nancy before beginning to walk backward. "Don't miss me too much!"

Nancy laughed hard, causing her head to lean back. "I'll try not to!"

Robin flashed a smile before dashing off to class. Nancy watched from afar, waving down the hallway as Robin ran down the hallway. Nancy feared they might have been too codependent on one another. That only made Nancy more anxious for the future. How was she going to go off to college without Robin? The girl hoped that moment would be easier once it approached.

Snapping out of her thoughts, Nancy waltzed into the journalism room at the last bell. She gave herself a mini fist bump before proceeding into the room.

The journalism room had been one of Nancy's favorites. Both newspaper and yearbook took place here, so the room was constantly buzzing with people and tasks that need to get done. Shelves and bookcases lined the walls, holding the archives of past yearbooks and papers. The archives dated back to when the school opened in the 1950s. A ladder stood in the corner in case anyone needed to reach the higher shelves. Desks and tables took over the room, placed in corners, and devoured the center of the room. Papers, projectors, typewriters, tools, and more scattered the tables in a complicated mess. Nancy knew she needed to get some organizing done.

Nancy walked over toward the newspaper section, peering over people's shoulders. There were perks to being the editor-in-chief, she thought. Walking around the room, she complimented those who were on track and gave feedback to those who needed it most. She only struggled a bit with the sports section since she lacked any knowledge of sports. Concluding her walkthrough, she gave a few assignments out to her group. Getting to delegate was one of Nancy's biggest accomplishments. It allowed her to practice skills necessary for the real world and prepare her for college in which people were constantly busy.

Sitting down in front of her typewriter, Nancy let out a sigh. It was her turn to finally work on her projects. Her latest stories involved the new equipment purchased for the science department and revising pictures for the basketball victory from this past weekend. Nancy had been pestered about adding a gossip column to the paper, but she feared it would get too out of control and she wouldn't be able to calm people down. Nancy flipped through her papers, biting down on her lip. "Ah..."

Nancy leaned back in her chair before she began to type away on her typewriter. She crafted the perfect flyer for tutoring. If she was going to tutor, the flyers needed to be perfect and easy to follow. The brunette chewed on the inside of her cheek as she typed, scared to mess up. Although, she rarely messed up due to her perfectionism. Listening to the keyboard, Nancy felt a smile grow on her face. If Ms. Kelley wanted the teenager to tutor, Nancy was going to give it to her. It wouldn't hurt to promote her tutoring skills, right? Maybe Emerson would view it as a great skill.

Feeling excited, the girl continued to type away. She added a catchy tagline, something along the lines of 'Wheeler's Wisdom Tutoring Sessions', and put her phone number down. She added the times in which she would be tutoring, Tuesdays and Thursdays from 3 pm to 6 pm in the library, making sure it didn't interfere with any other clubs.

"Excuse me?"

Nancy held her finger up. "Give me a moment, I'm making some flyers!"

Nancy heard the creak of her desk as the person leaned over. Her eyes diverted toward the hand. She furrowed her eyebrows, seeing the hand was large and muscular. A state champion's ring gleamed in the hazy light of the room, causing Nancy's stomach to churn. "Wheeler's Wisdom? How clever."

Nancy finally stopped typing. Her ears adjusted to the voice. It was deep and full of charm. The snarky comment flew out of the person's mouth with ease, making the hairs on Nancy's arm raise. The girl looked up and her smile dropped instantly.

There stood Steve Harrington, leaning over her desk. He wore his signature smirk as his hair perfectly fell over his forehead. "I bet I could come up with something better?"

"What are you doing here?" Nancy snapped.

"I just transferred into this class."

Nancy felt her heart drop into her butt. There was no chance in hell that Steve Harrington was transferring into Nancy's journalism class. Her sacred space. The area where she shined and excelled, where Steve was bright on the court. "No, that must be a mistake."

Steve shook his head before shoving his hand into the pocket of his varsity jacket. He pulled out a slip, glancing over it before handing it to Nancy. "No, no it's not. See?" He pointed to the class period and room, the world JOURNALISM printed in bold. "Journalism. Yeah?"

Nancy's eyes widen. Her stomach did flips before she stood up abruptly out of her chair. "Who the hell approved this?"

Steve smirked their bodies closer than ever. He watched as Nancy leaned over on her desk, locking eyes with his. "Take a look, darling."

Nancy tilted her head to the side before looking down at the signature. Ms. Kelley had signed off on the change which only made Nancy's blood boil. "She didn't."

"Oh, but she did." Steve snatched the piece of paper out of Nancy's fingers. "So, what's my job?"

Nancy couldn't believe it. Steve Harrington had transferred into her class and he was already asking questions. She knew that whatever she told him to do, he would end up sitting around and throwing paper balls into trash cans instead of writing. "Can you clean?"

Steve furrowed his eyebrows. "Can I clean?"

Nancy smirked. She reached under her desk, grabbing onto a bottle of disinfectant spray and a rag. "You can start off by cleaning the windows. Once you're done with that, feel free to dust off the typewriters. That should keep you occupied for the rest of the period."

"You're serious?" Steve scoffed. "I thought this was a writing class."

"Yeah, but I'm the boss here." Nancy pointed toward her desk with the engraving EIC labeled on the side. "Editor in Chief. I approve and delegate. And right now, I'm delegating you to clean the windows. Sound fair?"

Steve's smirk returned to his face. "Whatever you say, princess." He grabbed the bottle and rag off the desk.

Backing up slowly, Steve shook his head at Nancy. "Tomorrow, I expect to be writing something. Maybe sports?"

"Doubtful, very doubtful!" Nancy called out, waving goodbye to Steve.

The girl sat down in her chair and watched as Steve made his way toward the farthest window. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad having him in class. After all, she was in charge.

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braintapes · 1 year ago

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man i know ive been reblogging a lot of posts abt how awful the job hunt is but truly. genuinely. the whole thing is just so utterly thoroughly completely fuckin Borked dude. fully just Does Not Work

job listings are either fake, scams, inaccurate to the role they want filled, poorly written, written by someone who doesn't know what the job is supposed to entail, are either way too short or way too long, and/or by and large don't include the actual information you actually for real actually NEED to know whether the job is worth your time to apply for, such as, i dunno, the salary. your actual everyday job duties and what you Actually need to perform them. an absurd amount go out of their way to specify just how able bodied you need to even Think about Breathing on the job listing (very) even when that's blatantly false because fuck anyone with a disability i suppose.

assuming some of the jobs are, in fact, real jobs that someone would like filled by a human person to perform a series of tasks, you still may not have a good selection. depending on location you could be out of luck for any halfway decent work. there's a billion positions open for things you Know you can't do. the jobs all seem to come in the following flavors: entry level (but you must have 1-2 years experience in this field) entry level (must have a masters degree a phd and 6-10 years experience) and entry level (must have 5 years experience and be willing to lift an entire house's weight in manual labor every single day with no break)

if you don't have experience having a job well. sucks to suck i guess!

but whatever. okay. find some promising (read: seemingly not fake/scam) listings. go to apply. upload a resume you spent hours poring over to make sure ATS wouldn't mangle it while also keeping it professional and with all the relevant information to make you look as good as possible to prospective employers. the company website then takes the resume you uploaded (in the correct format) and dumps it in the trash. manually write down all of the information in their little text boxes please! oh and also make an account with all your personal information to even have the privilege of getting to fill out this application. mandatory work history information required. fill out this questionnaire - just be sure not to step on the mines and answer a question Wrongly. "why do you want to work at this company?" write an essay for us detailing the most personal aspects of yourself. dont click the buttons that masquerade as offering accommodations and diversity inclusion because theyll actually just set all of this on fire if youre actually honest. grovel in our uncaring text boxes about how badly you want to be part of our team and how YOU can best serve US you worthless dog. slowly crawl your way out of the last circle of hell so you can be done with the application. click the last button. write the last bit of forced-smile text so your teeth dont feel like they're going to shatter apart anymore

wait for weeks. then for months only for a rejection long since youve moved on. assuming you get a response, as the standard now seems to be ghosting. repeat process again and again and again and AGAIN. endlessly. scraping and clawing and begging. youre not grovelling enough. youre not kneeling and cowering and pleading hard enough. the people in your life who Do have jobs cant seem to understand why youre so distressed by it all because, well, They got jobs so Why Can't You? repeat process. repeat process. repeat process.

on a rare occasion, get a response (!!) and make it to the interview stage (!!!!!) which as it turns out is not actually a discussion about the job and how youd fit into it but a vibes check where you prostrate yourself once again to the hiring manager and they decide if they personally like you enough as someone they'd want to hang out with on the weekends to let you in. high chance to fail this immediately if you are some kind of minority, but because they dont want to get in trouble for discrimination, they instead Make Up A Reason not to hire you which then makes it perfectly fine because you can't prove the real reason. browse through your email to see the other rejections. repeat process.

remember that for every application you send out youre competing with hundreds of other desperate people who just need some money to god damned Survive. try to go find advice and find that everything is so heavily weighted in favor of employers it might as well be a fucking black hole (which would be apt considering everyones applications magically disappear) so the only advice anyone can give is pithy little platitudes about how you should look and act and speak and dress and behave and make sure youre grovelling! have you tried grovelling!! are you doing that enough because if you arent well it really is your fault isnt it then!

god and like even if you GET a job it's still a shit job and there's still no ladder any more. there's no Progression it's just moving horizontally across various shit jobs. even the "easiest" jobs to get hired at, customer service jobs, retail, food service, etc, are so terrible you arent treated like a human being by basically anyone from customers to managers. you arent allowed to sit down. you need to grovel STILL. to your boss. to customers. constantly. for 10 dollars an hour, probably less depending on location. but you have to agree to work all their horrible shifts for 10 hours a day on your feet no sitting 2 15 minute breaks fuck man. fuck. FUCK. WHAT IS ANYONE SUPPOSED TO DO AT THIS POINT?????

#sorry this is so long im just. so fucking fed up. this is horrible #and the thing is. getting the political will to get anything done about it is practically impossible #i dont know how this shit is supposed to change #ubi is a start as it would mean ppl dont have to beg corporations to please please please let me have a penny sir. just a penny to pay rent

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marcholasmoth · 2 years ago

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OSRR: 3207

after bringing joel to work i went back to bed and passed out for another five hours. i did take the occasion to take my meds, though, at one point when i woke up during my sleep extension. so that was good.

i ended up playing games most of the day, but i also applied for like six jobs and eventually made my way home after i picked up joel and after we grabbed his meds from not cvs, but rite aid. i got some snacks and put a few applications together before heading home.

earlier in the day, i looked at my emails and i saw a response about a position i applied for yesterday that would've been perfect, and i opened it to see a "no thanks." the rsd makes rejection letters like that really difficult to handle. so i was pretty disappointed. like "it's another rejection. when will someone give me the chance to prove myself?" the answer feels like never. but i texted joel and he said it eventually feels less awful, but to not take it personally. so submitting a few more applications today helped me feel a little better about it, even if a little more hopeful for some other opportunity that may arise from it.

i came home to hot dogs with bad ketchup and baked beans with extra extra onions so i didn't really eat much. i sat and watched oak island with my mom for a while, but she eventually needed to sleep so i turned the volume down and kept watching with the subtitles on. of course the distraction requirement of the adhd kept me from really paying attention, but i've gotten to see some important points that i missed from not having seen entire episodes. i'm now only four or so behind.

but i gotta say, that out of the whole day and out of all of the things that happened, i'm glad that joel has been there to listen to me and support me. when i think about asking for advice, the first person i think of is joel. i think of people who i can trust and who would sit on the floor with me to think, and the first person who comes to mind is him. and i'm so so happy i have him, because i'd be pretty miserable without him and the influence he's had on me and my life. i'm a much happier person than i was before i met him.

i keep thinking about the things that have happened in the last six years since i started my masters degree. it's a lot. a lot of pain, a lot of sacrifice, a lot of opportunities that have been given up in hopes of something better, missed chances and better outcomes. i lost friends, i lost faith, i even lost the academic world i was in for a time - but i also worked toward and gained another degree, i made new friends, i found some faith in myself, i got diagnoses, i got on meds, i got a therapist, i went through a global pandemic only getting it twice, i've dealt with the loss of family members and jobs and what feels like pieces of my sanity, but i'm still here. i'm still me, but i'm better for all of it.

and that's a nice thing to know.

#molly rambles #operation srr #osrr #3000s #3200s #sunshine boy

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hussyknee · 2 years ago

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Hussy what's the situation in Sri Lanka right now? Hope you're safe love ❤

Oh I'm quite fine, love, thanks for asking. 😊❤️The chaos seems contained to the capital. The rest of us are encapsulated in this tweet:

(alt text included)

Reply translation: "For real. This is like when the war was in the North. Without fuel there's not even a dog to be seen around here, not even to get a ride to the shops."

As for what the fuck is going on. *Deep breath* This is a very long but simple explainer (I hope) that is as much for my fellow Lankans trying to make sense of everything.

What the fuck is happening in Sri Lanka (as of 4:40pm 14 July 22)

This motherfucker, President Gotabaya Rajapaksa, was supposed to hand in his resignation yesterday, after protestors stormed his residence, his office, the prime minister's residence. Two and half million people flooded into the capital until even the cops fucking gave up, signalling to him that it was the end of the road. Except the 20th Amendment to the Constitution that Gota and his stooges had forced through gives him so much power that he can neither be impeached nor removed at all without a voluntary resignation.

So he asked for three days to resign (read: shove as much money as he could into a suitcase and flee), during which he and his family did their damndest to leave the country. Except our people absolutely refused to let them, even with the military at his beck and call. Workers of two different airports walked out rather than process his documentation to board a plane. People waiting at the airports obstructed him getting on a flight. Ports wouldn't let his ship leave the harbour. The US rejected his visa application. Man finally got so panicked that he refused to resign unless the Prime Minister secured a way for him to get the fuck out of here.

Now the Prime Minister, Ranil W, used to be the Opposition Leader and the Rajapaksas number one enemy until he bungled his last stint as Prime Minister so badly that nearly his whole party walked out on him and he couldn't even win his own seat at the last elections. He's been something of a joke in Parliament throughout Gota's term, so when Gota unexpectedly handpicked him to be PM to succeed his brother who we forced to resign, it was a huge political upset. But it was a rather brilliant move that splintered the protests and successfully protected him from having to step down.

But just like the entire rest of his 45 year career, Ranil spent the last 7 weeks making a complete pig's ear of things until he's now somehow even more reviled than he used to be. But Gota's resignation would have meant he got to become President of the caretaker government, and being President had been the ambition he's been clinging to his whole career, like a barnacle of calcified spite and greed. So he was more than happy to find Gota a way out.

Finally the Air Force itself had to take Gota to the Maldives (the President over there is also a wildly unpopular turd) even though the Maldivian people launched a massive protest of their own in response. Maldives was only supposed to be a stop gap to his "final destination" (according to his office, and yes memes ensued) and this fuckwit still did not send in his resignation letter.

Meanwhile, massive demonstrations were taking place all over Colombo, demanding that Ranil also resign to make way for the caretaker government. This assclown instead deployed cops and troops to beat back the crowds, firing tear gas from low-flying helicopters. He also declared a State of Emergency (martial law) and a curfew. Problem was, that only the Executive President has the power to do any of that shit, so everyone was like "Mx'cuse you?" And he was like "ah yeah no belay that". Then the Speaker and PM were like "akshully the President called and said Ranil can totes be President while he's um, overseas" and the whole circus of curfews, troops and martial law was back on track.

People responded to that by taking over Ranil's office as well.

(Also the legal fraternity was in a tizzy because Acting President doesn't have the vested powers of Executive President. But Ranil's dreams were finally almost within his grasp at age 73, what was a possible lawsuit to crossing this off his bucket list.)

Ranil continued throwing a wholeass army at the protestors, insisting that he was trying to protect our democracy from Antifa ( he really fucking said that). At any other time in our history, this has resulted in a horrific bloodbath. But this time, we were in the heart of the city's administrative district, the poshest of neighborhoods with embassies lining the streets. And it wasn't just one minority or marginalized group; it was the majority Sinhalese Buddhists, Sinhalese Christians, Tamils Hindus, Tamil Christians, Muslims, Burghers, foreign nationals, lawyers, the entire media establishment, clergy - the whole damn country on his doorstep, and none of them were even hurting the cops (in fact some of them were even helping the cops and STF wash their own tear gas out of their eyes and giving them tea and biscuits once they gave up trying to hold the line). Ranil then called an All-Party Conference (Friday casual version of Parliament, and no we don't know why we have this either) and asked them to select a new PM. The entire lot of them were instead like "actually we want to you to fuck off" leaving him all hurt and confused. He said "okay fine I will do it just as soon as Gota resigns" in much the same way we tell our Mums we will clean our rooms after we finish watching this one cartoon.

But the hours counted down, the stroke of midnight came and went, and no resignation appeared. By the end of the 13th, we were left with two presidents, one speaker, and an Opposition who wandered in like Donald Glover turning up with a pizza box as though none of them even lived here idk.

(An assorted bunch of wannabe revolutionaries, Rajapaksa plants and a splinter group from an ill-advised demonstration by the socialist party had tried to storm the Parliament in the evening for some godforsaken reason. It's not even in session. The road to which is effectively a killbox and also near Army HQ, and predictably resulted in a hundred people injured and one kid dying from tear gas).

We woke up this morning to Two Presidents, One Country: Part 2. Ranil and PM had come up with an extremely sus "gazette" from the President, who was still sending conflicting reports of his whereabouts. He was headed to Singapore. No he's still in Maldives. No he's now headed to Saudi Arabia. What he was not doing was sending in his fucking resignation, leaving his clown monkey to continue wreaking havoc, and leaving us to follow his flight plan like my cat watching his feather toy zoom around his head. As of this afternoon, the Speaker was debating declaring that the President had vacated his duties and moving this shitshow along, except that opens up in-fighting about legitimacy down the line. Even the Chamber of Commerce asked Ranil to step down, which is hilarious because that's the body of the country's richest old business bros and they'd never done anything like that before. The Commanders of the Tri-Forces also asked Ranil to step down, which is less hilarious and more terrifying because the military is not supposed to interfere in affairs of state at all. It's like if your gun had opinions on who should be shooting it. At best it sets a terrible precedent, at worst it might lead to a junta (military coup of the government). Overall, it's easier to get a five year old out of a bouncy castle that's on fire than getting this butt monkey to fuck off.

Meanwhile the middle class and neoliberals are bleating about the People's Struggle being hijacked by the communist party and trying to start a democracy-face-spitting fascist commie rebellion anarchy movement, there is no fuel even for ambulances, people not at the protests are stuck home, distribution of fuel and cooking gas are being held up, the poor are quite literally starving and watching enraged at all the military vehicles and helicopters zooming around, and the only thing that's doing a roaring trade are the conspiracy theories and breaking news alerts of the Lankan Aunties and Uncles over Facebook and Whatsapp. Ranil, who has taken to declaring curfews early and often even though the protestors have so far not given (1) good goddamn, suddenly declared one in the middle of the day, when people were still at office, leaving the streets of the capital and commercial districts absolutely gridlocked. Anyone who has a medical emergency right now is as good as dead.

Here is our last update from the President.

(alt text included)

Wow you guys, imagine being under a lot of pressure.

(updates cont'd in reblog)

#sri lanka economic crisis #sri lanka politics #sri lanka protests #sri lanka #world news #current events #gohomeranil2022 #gohomegota2022 #victory to the struggle!#අරගලයට ජය!#knee of huss

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 4 years ago

Text

𝑀𝑎𝑓𝑖𝑎! 𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧: 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝐷𝑎𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑆𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑠 𝐷𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔

Disclaimer: In no way am I condoning, supporting, justifying or encouraging mafia activities or lifestyle. This is all fictional and not meant to represent real life scenarios.

꧁𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰꧂

"Mom! Dad's being annoying again!"

You walked into the office only to see your daughter huffing with arms crossed as your husband sat in his chair, busy writing something down.

"What is it this time?" You mentally prepared yourself to hear some silly thing.

"It's nothing dear. I already told her I'm considering allowing her classmate to take her to the school's dance." Hongjoong responded as if he wasn't guilty of anything.

"See? He usually says no. So what's the problem?" You asked your daughter.

"He's making an 'application to date my daughter' to give to my date!" Your daughter exclaimed.

"What?" You walked over to Hongjoong and snatched the paper away from him and began quoting some of it:

"Thank you for your interest? Please allow 4 to 6 years for processing? If you've been rejected, you will be notified by 2 men carrying violin cases? Any false information may result in punishment by dismemberment, crucifixion, Chinese water torture?!"

"Kim Hongjoong!" You threw the paper back at him.

"What?! I'm only trying to look out for my baby! I only want the best for her." He defended himself.

"At this point, you might as well send me to a convent!" Your daughter furiously marched away to go lock herself in her room.

"Are you happy now?" You raised an eyebrow at Hongjoong.

"Not yet. But once I finish these last details on the application, I will be." He smiled as he resumed his task.

You threw your hands up in anger. "You're unbelievable!"

Hongjoong looked back at you and stuck his tongue out.

"If you were me, you'd do the same!"

꧁𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪꧂

Seonghwa kept pacing back and forth in the living room, unable to calm down.

"Would you please stop it?" You finally told him, annoyed by his fidgeting.

"Stop what?" He asked rather confused.

"That! Stop being so dramatic about this. You knew this would happen sooner or later." You reminded him.

"And I sincerely hoped it'd be a lot later. Waaay later." Seonghwa sighed.

"It's just a first date. It's not like sending one of your rookies out on their first mission." You joked to lighten the mood.

"There's a huge difference... this is my daughter we're talking about! My daughter! My beacon of light in this dark world." He pouted.

"Speaking of which, here she comes!" You pointed to your daughter, who is happily skipping over to you two.

"Look mom! What do you think?! Do you think he'll like it?!" She asked as she twirled around in a sparkly red dress.

"You look gorgeous honey. Of course he'll like it! Right Seonghwa?"

You turned to Seonghwa, who just stood there awkwardly, his eye was visibly twitching.

"Does.....does it have to be that short?" He asked.

He let out a yelp of pain when you elbowed him on his side. He looked over at you and you silently warned him to behave.

Sighing, he smiled at your daughter. "You're absolutely beautiful darling."

She beamed with happiness and hugged you both before running out the door once she heard a car beeping. Seonghwa just watched her as she left.

"See? That wasn't so bad right? The overprotective dad mode isn't necessary."

Seonghwa laughed awkwardly at that.

"Haha....yeah right."

As soon as you were out of sight, he took out his phone and dialed a number.

"All units on sector 3 better report to me any sign of physical contact that happens between them. Over."

꧁𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸꧂

"It's already 2:31, she's late." Yunho blurted out.

"What are you talking about?" You asked him.

"I mean school is over at 2, it's only a 30 minute drive from here to there and vice versa. They're late, we gotta make sure they're all right."

You grabbed his arm when he sprinted from the couch.

"Yunho, it's only been 1 minute-"

"2 minutes now actually." He corrected you.

You sighed, praying for patience.

"Point is, it's her first day of school, maybe there was a lot of traffic and you're overreacting. She'll be here soon." You tried to calm him down.

Yunho sat back down and huffed. "I still say we should have just home schooled her."

"Public school isn't going to kill her!" You argued.

"I got the best tutors and professors on speed dial. They're more than willing to give my daughter the best education money can buy!" Yunho repeated what he's been saying for months.

"She needs to learn to interact with people, develop social skills. You're making a fuss over nothing. It's only the first day, and see? Where's the danger? What's the problem so far?" You tried reasoning with him.

"Problem is..... she's not here!" He exclaimed.

Right at that moment, your 6 year old daughter came running in, straight to her father's arms.

"She's here now, and in one piece." You told him.

"Hi sweetheart. Did you have fun today?" He asked as he bounced your daughter in his lap.

"Very! We got to paint, and play around, and at recess, a boy asked me to be his girlfriend and I said sure!" She babbled happily.

Yunho's smile dropped when he heard that last part. He looked over at you, and you were just on the verge of laughing at his reaction.

"See?! Now we got a problem! Some boy is already trying to take my daughter away and corrupt her!" He whined.

"Oh relax Yunho! They're 6 years old! The worst that can happen right now is he gets her sick or something." You shook your head at him.

Yunho held your daughter and looked at her seriously.

"Honey, listen to me. Stay away from boys, they have cooties and they're evil vicious villains who'll just hurt you. Ok? Can you do that for daddy?" He made puppy dog eyes at her.

You face palmed at him.

꧁𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰꧂

"You know Yeosang, you've been having a lot more drinks than usual...." San pointed it out to him.

"I wanna drink tonight to forget and pretend like today didn't just happen." Yeosang said as he downed another shot.

"Yeosang, we've all been there like you were tonight. Trust me, you'll get over it." Wooyoung reminded him.

"Not me! I was the most supportive out of all of you! I was the perfect dad." San smiled, his cute dimples on full display.

"Hey! I was supportive as well!..... sort of. ." Yeosang replied sheepishly.

"Oh yeah? What happened then? Do tell us." Mingi rested his face in his hand, ready to hear Yeosang's story.

Yeosang began reminiscing about what happened a few hours before:

He stood there awkwardly, the young lad that was taking his daughter to prom right in front of him, trying his best to make a great impression of him. But Yeosang wasn't making it easy with his cold icy stare. He just couldn't believe someone was daring to come between him and his daughter.

"I'm ready!"

They both turned and looked over at you and your daughter, all dressed to perfection. The boy's breath was taken away and he was almost drooling. Meanwhile, Yeosang was clenching his fist so much it almost drew blood. After taking so many pictures, she hugged you both goodbye. The boy went to shake Yeosang's hand, but Yeosang instead pulled him in for a caring and ,somewhat suspicious, hug.

"Well then?" Hongjoong asked, snapping him back to reality.

Yeosang gulped.

"Ok. So I may or may not have threatened to cut off his balls if he tried anything...."

꧁𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷꧂

Even though San was extremely close to your daughter and yes he was protective of her, he was also overjoyed and very supportive when she asked for permission to go on a date. He immediately stood up and began bombarding her with questions:

"Who was the boy? Where did you meet? How long have you two known each other? Where do you guys wanna go? How much will you need? Want me to set you guys up at an expensive restaurant? Are you two in love?"

On the day of the actual date, he seemed more excited than your own daughter. He actually hired a photographer to capture every single moment.

"Ok honey I think that's enough photos, the kids might lose their reservation." You tried to make sure they actually made it to the date.

San gasped. "Oh right right! Well you kids have fun and don't worry about paying! I rented the whole thing out for you two!"

He pulled your daughter in for a tight and squishy hug, reminding her how much he loved her and to take care. He also gave the boy a firm pat on the back before watching them get in the limousine and drive away. Even after a few minutes, he stood there silently.

He sighed happily.

"They grow up so fast.....it feels like it was only yesterday when I held her in my arms for the first time....."

You watched San and could tell he was getting emotional.

"Are you going to cry?" You asked him.

"Me? Cry? Pssht! I'm Choi San, the manliest man of all mafia leaders and I do not cry!" He declared bravely.

He then stood there awkwardly before turning back to you. Sighing, you opened your arms.

"Come here. Let it all out." You assured him.

Instantly, San held onto you, crying his eyes out, his heart full of so many emotions.

"Oh my god my babygirl is all grown and soon she'll be leaving me, and I'm sad but I'm so happy at the same way cause I love her so much, and I love you so much and I just miss my baby already even though she's still here!"

You only patted his back and nodded at his sobbing. At least he wasn't putting a tracking device on her.

꧁𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲꧂

You knew it was all bullshit when Mingi said he was desperately needed at the headquarters with the boys. And Seonghwa even confirmed it when you called him and he said that everything was fine, no one called a meeting. You thanked him and hung up. Grabbing your car keys, you sped to your daughter's location, hoping to get there before something embarrassing happened.

You looked around the place, trying your best so your daughter wouldn't see you. She didn't, however you spotted a very familiar shade of red hair hiding behind some bushes. Discreetly, you crept up behind him and smacked his head.

"Ow! What was that for?!" He cried out.

"Song Mingi! You ought to be ashamed of yourself! Spying on your own daughter on her first date!" You yelled at him.

"It's my right as a father to make sure my daughter is safe!" He protested.

"Well you can do that....from a distance!"

Without warning, you grabbed his ear and pulled him back to your car to take him home.

"Ok! Can you let go?! I'll go back home with you!" He gave up and walked back with you.

"Good. Honestly, what were you thinking? Oh wait! You weren't." You huffed as you got in the driver's seat.

"There's nothing wrong with wanting your daughter to be safe and make sure her date treats her decently." He pouted like a little baby.

"Well like I said, you could do that from a distance. There's no need to be stalking her out like one of your snipers." You told him as you started the car.

"Yeah.....you're right...." Mingi sighed.

You smiled, proud that he was willing to accept his mistake. That was until he opened his mouth again.

"I mean, why put a tracking device on her phone and not use it?" He stated nonchalantly as he took out his phone

"Song fucking Mingi! I swear to God, if you did that I will make you roll out of the car!"

꧁𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰꧂

"For the last time....No!"

Wooyoung was stubborn. No matter how many times your daughter begged him to let her go to the school dance, he stood his ground and refused. She tried every single approach: she behaved like an angel, tried bargaining and even rebelled like a teenager but to no avail.

"Give me one good reason why I can't go!" Your daughter pouted.

"I'll give you three reasons: One, boys. Two, boys. And three, which is actually the most important one... boys!" Wooyoung was practically dramatic at this point, as if he wasn't already.

"You're going to have to let me date someday!" Your daughter retaliated.

"Absolutely....when I'm cold in my coffin or when hell freezes over. Whichever comes first." Wooyoung said.

Your daughter ended up locking herself in her room, refusing to see her father. It hurt him to have her rejection, but he only did it because he loved her. Unbeknownst to him though, you gave her permission and even arranged for her to be picked up by your friend so she could go to her dance. You hoped Wooyoung didn't notice.

"Where is she?" Wooyoung asked you, crossing his arms over his chest, his foot tapping on the floor.

You sighed in defeat. "She went to the dance. I gave her permission."

Wooyoung began screaming at the top of his lungs, getting agitated.

"Oh relax you drama queen! Her date isn't a bad boy! In fact, he's the sweetest boy ever! You know him, it's San's son!"

As soon as he heard that, Wooyoung felt like he was going to get a heart attack.

"Of all people, she chose San's kid?! Is she insane?!"

Wooyoung took out his phone and furiously tapped on the screen.

"San you little piece of shit! Why are you letting your devil of a son seduce my little angel? Hmm?..... Oh don't give me that! He's just like you! Behind that innocent dimple smile lies a demon, waiting to prey on the innocent and pure so they can corrupt them!! Curse you and your cute dimple genes! I will get you back for this!"

꧁𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸꧂

"So....what are your intentions?" Jongho asked the boy sitting in front of him.

"Excuse me s-sir?" The boy didn't quite understand.

"What are your intentions with my daughter?" Jongho repeated as he reached for one of the apples that were on the table.

"Well I... I....I'm not sure. I guess-"

"Oh? Not sure?" Jongho locked eyes with him as he effortlessly split the apple in half with his bare hands.

The boy noticeably gulped and stared at the crushed fruit.

"I I mean! It's only a dance! It's nothing serious-"

"Are you saying my daughter's a joke? Are her feelings nothing to you?"Jongho reached for another apple and split it apart just like the other one.

"I didn't say that!" The boy exclaimed.

Jongho nodded and reached for yet a third apple.

"Listen very carefully to me boy. I love my daughter so much. There's nothing I wouldn't do for her. I only want her to be happy."

He split the apple and set it down on the table.

"So let me make this clear: break my daughter's heart and I will break you. You know like what?" Jongho tilted his head at him.

"Like.....those apples?" The boy hesitantly pointed at the murdered fruit in front of him.

"Hmm? Oh no. Not like those apples."

Jongho smiled and pulled out a watermelon from one of the cushions.

"I'll break you like this watermelon."

Jongho's fist slammed down on the watermelon, effortlessly breaking it in half. The poor boy was now pale, fearing for his life.

"Daddy! I'm ready! Is the driver ready- what's with all the split fruit?" Your daughter asked when you and her walked into the living room.

"Oh! Nothing sweetheart. I was just splitting these for our guest. Gotta have a little snack before. Right?"

Jongho held out a parted apple to the boy, his eyes silently warning him not to say anything of what really happened. The boy simply nodded and took the apple.

"Y-yeah. Your father is really n-nice."

You frowned at Jongho when your eyes met. You knew what really happened. But he simply smiled innocently at you, like nothing happened.

Gifs not mine, credit goes to their respective owners.

#ateez #ateez reactions #ateez mafia au #mafia!au #mafia!ateez #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #ateez jongho #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines

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farfromsugafanfic · 4 years ago

Text

Waiting For Superman

Genre: Superhero AU, Comic Book AU?, Journalist Namjoon, Journalist OC, best friends to lovers, Action, Angst if you squint, Fluff

Pairing: Namjoon/Reader

Warnings: cursing, violence, injury, hospitalization, bombings, hostage situations, kidnapping, uses chloroform to make someone unconscious, alcohol, physics lol

Synopsis: After your father, one of the top antimatter scientists is killed in his laboratory by villain Outlier, you and your best friend, Namjoon survive the only known antimatter bomb, you both go on to be two of the top journalists in Metropolis. Only, there’s something off about you that most people can’t put their finger on. Namjoon is the only one who notices, not even you know your biggest secret. Hoping to protect you from Outlier, Namjoon also guards a secret of his own.

Note: This is the beginning of a new AU series. This is also in the same universe as my Jin imagine, Heartbreak Weather. This story will continue in the background of future installments.

﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

"Damn," you said, looking through the article proposals for the week. "I have five proposals to do a story on the two weathermen that got together. Is nothing else interesting happening in Metropolis?" Reaching into your desk, you pulled out your lunch consisting only of a slightly too brown banana. You frowned. "I hate to say it, but it's really too bad that Outlier has been so quiet lately."

Namjoon chuckled. "You'd wish for a little peril in Metropolis if it made a good story." His lips curled upward and he adjusted his slightly too large glasses.

You smiled at your head writer's sarcasm. "Just a little peril. Not too much." Turning around to place the accepted and rejected proposals in their respective boxes, you returned to find a bright yellow banana sitting on your desk. It made you pause, but you shrugged as you peeled it open. "Besides, Antimatter Man always stops whatever his antics are."

"It's not always Antimatter Man."

You hummed in response, already marking up an article in red pen. "Most of the time though."

The conversation lulled, but it didn't feel awkward. You'd worked with Namjoon for nearly three years now, but known him much longer. You were his soundboard and he was your common sense.

"Maybe we do a piece on his recent quietness?"

You looked up. Namjoon already met your eyes. He sat with one leg on top of the other, forming a triangle and his arms crossed over his chest. You'd noticed the way his clothes began to fit tighter, stretching over new muscles. It surprised you. Namjoon never seemed like the athletic type. You were more likely to find him studying physics at the city library for his newest piece on Antimatter Man than in the gym building a physique rivaling a marble statue.

"That seems like a good idea." The pen pressed to your lips you didn't notice the way the ink blotted against your lips. "You wanna take it on?"

"Sure." He pushes one leg off the other and stands up. "I'll try to have it to you by morning."

You nod, trusting him fully to have his piece ready for the morning edition. He moved towards the door and you felt as he paused. Even though you weren't looking at him, you could tell the way he stood, with his hand gripping the door frame, his body half in, half out.

"Don't stay too late, Y/N. He might be quiet now, but you know that won't be forever."

You did know. Maybe more than anybody.

﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

Outlier first started terrorizing the Greater Metropolis area when you were twelve. It started off typical. A few particularly successful bank robberies netted him more than enough money for a lifetime. If it were you, you would've taken the money and moved far away, lived out the rest of your days peacefully. But, Outlier didn't want just the money.

When you were fifteen, however, it all changed.

It was nearly 9 pm. Your father had not returned home from work. It wasn't all around unusual. He often pulled long hours at the lab. But you felt an itch at the back of your spine. Like a spider crawling up each vertebrae like a ladder.

You called Namjoon. He was the only person you knew with a car, and the only one you knew wouldn't ask too many questions. Twenty minutes later, his headlights showed through the curtains of your bedroom.

"Hey," he said. His voice greeted you, full of exhaustion and the buoy that had bounced back and forth in the water between you.

Namjoon was your longest friend. You met in Kindergarten when you'd come across Namjoon in the back corner of the playground. Pushed against the pavement, two second graders tore off his glasses and put them on, mimicking his front teeth that stuck out before he got braces in high school.

You'd chased them off, managing to pick up his glasses off the ground. They were still broken, but you helped Namjoon tape them to get through the rest of the day. Since that day, you'd become almost inseparable. That was until you got a boyfriend.

You, of course, accused Namjoon of being jealous when he didn't immediately take to the idea of you and Vincent. Though, despite the accusation, you knew it was far from the truth. It wasn't hard to see that Vincent was bad for you. He was the reason your grades began to drop, why you knew the familiar burn of whiskey down your throat, and why were spending that night--Valentine's Day--alone.

"You haven't heard anything from him?" Namjoon backed out of your driveway before you even managed to get the seatbelt hooked.

You shook your head. "He normally calls if he's running late."

It takes another twenty minutes to reach your dad's work. Located just outside the city, you could see Longevity Labs ten minutes before you reach it. Up on a hill, it was agonizing watching the building cycle in and out of view with every turn and switchback.

When you get there, you look up to the fourth floor where your father's lab was. The lights were still on and you felt the coil in your chest unravel a little. Though not completely.

The elevators in Longevity Labs had been broken for years now and you didn't pay them any mind as you walked to the staircase and climbed the four floors. Namjoon stayed close behind, though you didn't speak. It wasn't the first time the two of you had come to the labs together when you'd become worried. After losing your mom when you were young, a burr of worry attached itself to your heart and poked you when your father wasn't home by eight.

The metal of the doorknob felt warm. There were plenty of reasons for that, you rationalized. Your father was one of the top scientists in Metropolis, he worked with all sorts of dangerous things that could need a warm environment, or cause one.

You pushed the door open and met your father's eyes. They were wide open and empty. A silent scream falling from his wide open mouth. Your vision blurred and the thing you remember next is feeling Namjoon's hand on your shoulder as his voice elevated. It was only then you noticed that you weren't alone.

"What are you doing here?" Namjoon asked, his voice like the bark of a guard dog. It surprised you. For a boy of barely sixteen at the time, it felt like he suddenly was a man standing beside you. You were still just a tiny girl.

The man wore a mask. Of course he wore a mask. It was white with two diamond shapes for the eyes, only revealing a small bit of his pupil. The man didn't speak when he opened his hand, a metallic orb drifting upwards. He didn't throw it, but the orb moved quickly, like it was falling.

It was only later you learned that it was rigged to move upward like that. Real antimatter would act just like regular matter, nearly indecipherable. This--while true antimatter--was meant to hold your attention long enough.

The explosion pushed you towards the ceiling. You woke up to a firefighter reaching for your hand. It was only when you took it and tried to place your feet on the ground that you noticed that you and Namjoon ended up pushed through the wall and into the vent system near the ceiling. He wasn't fully awake, yet his arms still reached for you after you were peeled away from his body.

The two of you were the only known survivors of an antimatter bomb. Well, it was more like a grenade. Your father's lab, body, and work was largely destroyed in the explosion, but for some reason, you and Namjoon survived. It's wide believed that there was something wrong with the bomb. That it didn't attack your living cells.

You and Namjoon did not come out unscathed. Somehow, you got off fairly easy with a broken collarbone, a concussion, and a few deep cuts around your body. Namjoon, on the other hand, never fully awoke for a week. He'd broken three ribs, one of his lungs collapsed, his head injury much worse than yours, permanent damage to his spine. When he woke a week later, you wanted to envelope him in a hug and never let go.

﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

Namjoon found you curled up in the newspaper archives at midnight. He was the only one who knew your Valentine's Day ritual. He moved the papers from your lap and took the glass of wine from your hand before it spilled. Just like every year, the paper was open to your dad's obituary and the news coverage of the explosion.

The edges of the paper were brown and crisped as if they were sixty years old instead of ten. His brow furrowed as he touched them. Between his fingers, the brown edges lightened as he brought them towards the light.

Ever since that night, your mission was to expose Outlier. You knew he wasn't some superhuman. Your dad worked with antimatter to harness its capabilities for good. For medical applications and using its destruction for renewable energy. Outlier wanted to use antimatter in the way everyone feared. To destroy.

As he moved the paper with your father's smiling face, he saw another, a jolt running down his spine. The headline took up almost half the page, "New Hero Emerges In Fight Against Outlier."

Outlier's antics became more calculated. Everyone knew he had the capability to use antimatter, but his subsequent movements involved raids of laboratories outside the city and taking a graduate student hostage. No one else died.

It was during the hostage situation that Antimatter first saved the day. It was around a year after your attack and Antimatter Man successfully infiltrated the laboratory and got the hostage to safety before the entire lab exploded. It was only in his next act of heroism that the city realized he was more than just someone who risked his life to save someone. He had powers.

Next time, Antimatter Man disabled a device strapped around a victim's neck with just a touch. It was determined to be a miniature explosive that would've destroyed the man had it gone off. The hero could manipulate antimatter. Destroy it--and was later determined--create it.

When Antimatter Man caused an explosion in an alleyway, he was lucky that only one bystander died. Like all the previous times he disabled one of Outlier's antimatter devices, he placed his hand on top of it. Instead of feeling the molecules burst like boba, he felt an energy build until it exploded.

Outlier purposely placed a more standard bomb that would explode in the presence of antimatter. It was a test. One Antimatter Man hadn't anticipated. In fact, it was rumored the hero had no idea the full scale of his abilities until that moment. The only reason he came out unscathed is because he was able to clock himself in antimatter to prevent the explosion from destroying him.

Namjoon knew that Outlier knew who Antimatter Man was. While the general public may not know that Antimatter Man was a victim of Outlier, or that he used chunky glasses and the Metropolis Daily to control the public's view of Kim Namjoon and Antimatter Man. Outlier was the only one who knew, not even you.

﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

The authorities always told you that Outlier may come back. Your father was the most prominent scientist working with antimatter technology and there were likely things Outlier had not figured out yet. He may come for your father's notes. Yet, he never did.

You weren't too worried about it anymore. It wasn't as if Outlier had a personal vendetta against you or your father. You hadn't seen his face. You'd practically passed out when you saw him, and probably would've had he not dropped the grenade when you locked eyes.

Still, you always watched your back when you walked from the Metropolis Daily office to your apartment. It was only a few blocks, but normally traversed after dark. Sometimes Namjoon came with you, though most of the time you persuaded him to just go back to his own place. Especially this night, you did not want Namjoon to know you didn't plan on going home.

Normally, when you hid your plans from Namjoon, it was because you were heading somewhere dangerous for research. Like the time you drove out into the forest on your own in search of Outlier's supposed hide out, or the time you decided to follow a man suspected to be Antimatter Man. Even as an editor, you still wrote, tending to keep the most hard hitting stories for yourself. Besides, few of your journalists were willing to possibly get close to Outlier. You'd survived once, you felt you could again.

However, this night, you were headed to the club. There was no reason or ulterior motive. You simply wanted to let loose. You knew Namjoon wouldn't like it. He wasn't smothering, he let you make your own decisions and do what you want, but his disapproving and worried looks always cut you deep.

You knew it all came from a place of concern. He always told you how thankful he was that he was with you that night. But, you always fit a pit of guilt in your stomach. Namjoon nearly died because of you. There was no way you were going to let that happen again.

You'd changed into something sexier before leaving the office, leaving your office clothes in your desk drawer. You always kept an extra set there any way in case you needed to pull an all nighter at the office. It was rare you got to go out and enjoy yourself on a Friday night and you already felt the contentment rising in you as you approached the club and heard the rhythmic thud of bass.

This particular club wasn't one with a line of people which was why you chose it. There was no wait. You could get in and out easily and without fuss. When you didn't get to do things like this often, you wanted to truly get to do them.

It wasn't long until you lost yourself. In the crowd. In the music. In your thoughts. Or rather, lack thereof. This is why people liked clubbing and loud music. It drowned out your worries. Everything became a constant hum in the back of your skull, where, for once, you could ignore it.

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Namjoon had suspicions. It started when no fruit stayed ripe around you. The way that the microwave always sparked when you tried to make popcorn. And no matter what you did, it always ended up just a little too burnt. Nothing you did was ever quite right, but never quite wrong.

He always found his way to you whether he wanted to or not. It was as if the particles in his body were attracted to yours. Recognized them like their reflection. You got into a car accident two years ago and Namjoon had left work early that day, having felt an aching in his lower stomach. Fearing appendicitis, his supervisor sent him home.

He'd walked a block when he came upon it. You were sitting on the sidewalk, your hands pulling at the roots of your hair and your feet pointed towards each other. Something caused you to look up then. Namjoon wondered if you had the same uncanny sense he did, if you could put together when the other was in peril. When you saw him, your arms came around him and your shaking body burrowed into his for warmth.

When he was eighteen and you were seventeen, the two of you briefly shared an apartment. Namjoon had started taking classes at the university and you were in your senior year. While your dad had left everything to you--you were all he had--you sold the house a year after your dad died, unable to live there alone.

You'd come home one night after a basketball game. Namjoon always encouraged you to go, wanting you to feel like a normal high schooler. Though, while he was well intentioned, the efforts were ultimately fraught. You'd left at halftime because you think the concession stand hot dog made you sick.

Yet, when you came home. You found Joon spread out on the couch, bottles of alcohol spread around him like the crime scene markers around your dad's body. He'll never forget the light touches on his shoulder, then forehead, then bicep. The way it reminded him of feeling just a little too warm on a winter's night, pleasantly so.

His feet brought him to the entrance of the club and his heart sped up. You never came to places like this, but Namjoon knew you had the secret desire to. You'd always loved to dance even though you weren't particularly skilled at it. He walked inside, loitering at the edges of the dancefloor.

Namjoon had to keep himself from sneering at the sweaty bodies and couples dry humping each other. He never really understood the appeal of clubs. His eyes flit across the crowd, spotting your hair first. Even though you'd worked all day, you looked beautiful still. Your hair a little frizzier than usual and he recognized the tiredness in the way your moved your body to the bet. It wasn't lazy exactly, but it didn't have the same gusto as some of the others around you.

He wondered if his feeling had been off. Maybe he was just too on edge lately because Outlier had gone so silent. There was a parasite in the back of his mind that fed him anxieties. Was he planning something big? Had he finally figured out to build the bomb he wanted to? Was he committing lower level crimes Namjoon wasn't privy to? Did he know about you?

Watching you dance, he shook his head. You weren't in any danger. It was just in his head this time. Turning with his hands in his pockets, he took two steps towards the door of the club when he looked back and caught a glimpse of your smile. It was rare these days and not something he wanted to ruin with his worries.

With a small smile of his own, Namjoon left.

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You ended the night at around two a.m. You'd had two drinks, not enough to make you stumble out on the sidewalk, but enough to make you feel like you were. Taking off your heels, you gripped them in your fingers as you walked back towards your place. The walk should take fifteen minutes, but in your current state, you found yourself sauntering along as if the streets of Metropolis were perfectly safe in the wee hours of the morning.

If it were not for the alcohol in your system, maybe you would've sensed the presence behind you. Maybe you would've seen the dark shadow lingering behind you for the last two blocks. It wasn't until a hand clamped over your mouth, the other clamped around your jaw to prevent you from biting down on your abductor's fingers.

It was then you tasted it on your tongue. The rough, bleached taste of fabric. Something mildly sweet. Like laughing gas at the dentist.

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Namjoon prided himself on his intuition. When you called him the night your father died, he almost ignored it. Nearly blinded by his teenage jealousy, it was a small pain in his stomach that made him answer his phone and rush to you that night.

He had the same pain now. Just below his ribs this time, he rubbed his fingers along the cotton of his button down as he glanced at your dark, empty office. You hadn't come in for work this morning. No one heard from you last night or this morning. And, despite this being unlike you, no one else seemed concerned.

You'd gained a reputation for your independence and ability to take care of yourself. You hardly ever asked for help--and while your own mind tended to think that an admirable trait--it only made Namjoon's mind race more. However, this made everyone else go about their day.

A half hour later Namjoon stood in his boss' office. "I'm not feeling well. Would it be all right if I took the rest of the day off?"

﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

When you came to, you immediately noticed the lack of rough rope around your wrists or ankles. When you opened your eyes, however, you noticed the white cuffs floating half an inch from your skin. One cuff circled each wrist and another two around each ankle. You knew enough about how Outlier operated to know about these.

First seen in his second major hostage situation following your father's death, these cuffs did not touch the skin. But, if the hostage moves or tries to escape and their skin brushes the edge of the cuff, the invisible antimatter will attack the matter rich skin, flesh, and bone.

The first hostage to have worn these cuffs lost a hand before she understood how they worked. Now, Outlier gained easy compliance with even just the threat of his antimatter cuffs.

"Ah, so you've heard of them?"

Outlier sat across the room. HIs diamond slit mask shrouded in the shadows of the dimly lit room. It made your heartbeat easier knowing he still wore the mask. It meant he didn't plan on killing you. At least, not yet.

"You know--" Outlier paused, a soft lilt in his voice that annoyed you. Normally, the sort of singsong quality he had would make you flutter your lashes at him across the bar. Outlier's voice though, sounded like a children's song slowed down and played backward. "The technology for those cuffs I developed from some of your dad's research."

He stood up, moving closer. "The ability to suspend antimatter around a given object using the only gas in our world that antimatter cannot destroy. Quite brilliant, really."

As a teenager, you really did not know much about your father's research beyond its main goal: make the world better using the one thing that could destroy it. Your father had seen success in his lifetime. The use of antimatter in some medical technology aided the treatment of cancer and detecting major illnesses. It had saved lives.

You'd looked over a bit of your father's surviving research, of course. The things you had mainly consisted of experiment notes, a few crude sketches, and one report about a failed experiment. Nothing of value, really. It's why you always brushed off Namjoon's worries that Outlier would come back for it. What did you have that he would want?

"I imagine you know why you're here." Outlier was now only a few feet away and he leaned leisurely against the wall as if he were an old friend visiting your new apartment.

"No, I--"

"But, my assistant has something they want from you first."

Your head turned to the darkness in front of you from where Outlier had originally come. You made out the figure of another man. Smaller in stature, he shuffled slowly into the dim light. He didn't wear a mask, his hair falling into his eyes.

"My report," he said, his voice hesitant, almost scared. If you didn't know any better you'd believe he was the one being held hostage by Outlier. "Do you have it?"

"Your report?" Your brow furrowed as you thought about the one report you had. It detailed only the attempt to create an anti-oxygen particle. "I-I don't think so."

The air in the room became stuffy. Outlier seemed not to believe you, his arms crossed. You had no idea who Outlier's assistant was, but you were certain that whatever experiment he was a part of, your father would never have done something to make this man resent him. You almost wished you had the report.

"My assistant, you see," Outlier began in his singsong voice. "Suffers from a particular ailment brought on by one of your father's experiments. It tends to leave people, breathless. Isn't that right, Yoongi?"

The other man--Yoongi--glared at his supervillain boss. Something turned in your stomach. Yoongi didn't appear to be overly loyal to Outlier. Maybe he would be your key to getting out of this.

"Well, that was merely a favor. His report was never recovered and I thought there was a chance you may have it. But, now onto the real reason I've brought you here."Outlier crouched down, coming face to face with you. "Now, for an experiment of my own."

From his jacket pocket, he pulled out a short rod. Holding it above your bindings, the cuff fell limp and motionless against your wrist. You nearly flinched, worried it would begin cutting through the skin. But, it didn't.

Despite his mask, Outlier's form seemed to perk up at that. As if he had the first evidence that his hypothesis was true. With his thick, black gloves, that you were assumed were made of antimatterium--an element created by your father to make the handling of antimatter safer--Outlier slipped the ring off your wrist.

Reaching pack into his pocket, he pulled out a new ring and placed it around your wrist. It looked identical to the last, white, vaguely metallic with a visible field of matter--or possibly antimatter--surrounding it. Stretching it over your hand, he slipped it around your wrist.

"It should only take a few minutes."

Outlier stood back up.

"What's the point of this?" you asked, becoming more frustrated that nothing was happening. You knew you should be thankful you are still alive. It would be easy enough to kill you and rummage through your apartment for whatever he wants. Yet, for some reason, he refrained.

"I imagine you can figure that out on your own." Outlier watched the ring around your wrist carefully. "My biggest foe can only have a mind that rivals my own."

Biggest foe? Your mind turned over the possible meanings of his words until it clicked. "You think I'm Antimatter Man?"

Outlier didn't flinch. "Of course."

You laughed. You couldn't help yourself. While you'd never come to face to face with Antimatter Man himself, it was obvious that the superhero was easily many inches taller than you and his shoulders were easily the entire length of one of your arms.

"Me? Of all people?"

"It would make some sense, wouldn't it? Very few people survive the blast from an antimatter bomb. And those that do often acquire certain--capabilities."

You shook your head. "But, I'm not the only one who survived, Nam--"

You were interrupted by the sound of Outlier's surprise as well as the sound of banging from outside the room. Yoongi--who hadn't been paying attention--suddenly popped his head up and glanced towards the door to your left. With so many things happening at once, you chose to only focus on where Outlier's eyes went.

The ring around your wrist had begun to crumble like cheese. Bits falling off as they became too heavy or lost their support. Squinting your eyes you wondered how this was possible. You didn't get a chance to hop on your train of thought before the door burst open.

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Antimatter Man burst into the room. He never wore a specific costume like superheroes were often penchant to do. Normally, he just wore an all black ensemble and a mask, obscuring most of his face. A hat usually then kept his hair hidden, beyond the tiny wisps of light brown you saw peeking out from underneath.

"Let her go," he said, his voice matter of fact and deep and familiar.

Outlier--to his credit--did seem genuinely surprised. Though, he bounced back quickly, ordering Yoongi to shut the door. The other man did so slowly and pathetically, letting it scrape against the splintered hardwood floor.

"Hmm, well, it would seem your presence here would confirm that my original hypothesis was wrong." A pause and he points down at you. "But I may have a new one."

For some reason, it took you this long to put together that you were destroyed the ring imprisoning your left wrist. Why hadn't the first one crumbled into nothingness like this?

"That ring is made of matter. Like most things in our universe. However, it is designed to crumble when it detects antimatter energy. She produces antimatter energy. Probably in small amounts which is why she and the world haven't destroyed each other yet." He looks back at Antimatter Man who's dark eyes are flitting between you and the villain. "Much like you, my nemesis. You destroy all antimatter you come into contact with through the latent production of pure matter. You really should correct the press on the name, you know?"

Your mind swirled. You created latent antimatter? Did this explain why everything in your life with a timespan seemed to die or wilt quicker than usual? Why people found you just slightly off?

"She has the potential to be my greatest weapon. If I can harness the antimatter inside of her. Determine whatever is producing it, I would no longer need to spend weeks producing such tiny amounts." You were certain that if his mask was off, his face would be lit up like a child's. His hand reached for yours and he pulled you up off the ground. The cuffs shifted with you since both you and the antimatter cuffs were under his control. Would they even work on you though?

Outlier held your back against his chest. It surprised you how much he felt like a normal man. Of course, that's all he was in the grand scheme of it all. Outlier was nothing more than a man desperate for something.

"No!" Antimatter Man sounded almost desperate. "Don't hurt her! She's been through enough. She didn't ask for it. She didn't even know about it. Please just let her go. I'll--" You can also hear the thoughts turning in his mind. "You can have me instead."

Your eyes went wide. Antimatter Man seldom placed himself directly into Outlier's hands. He was known for foiling the villain's plans remotely, sometimes even not showing up to the scene. And, even when they did come face to face, it was usually brief. What made this so different? What made you different?

Also, why did he talk like he knew you? Sure, your story had been in the papers a long time ago? You occasionally met a stranger who would recognize your name, but it was becoming less and less common with every passing year. How did Antimatter Man know you?

Outlier's grip on you tightened. One of his hands reached down for your wrist and held it up. Taking hold of the cuff, he brought it within millimeters of your skin.

"Now, let's be civilized about this. If you were truly worried about this girl because of her past, you wouldn't have let me take her in the first place."

Antimatter Man gulped. His body was stiff and his hands opened and closed. It reminded you of how Namjoon kept a stress ball in his desk drawer for whenever he had a stressful day. He'd squeeze and release it a few times in time with his breaths, getting out of his head.

"Yoongi," Antimatter Man said, his breath tickling the shell of your ear. "Open the back door for me would you?"

Yoongi didn't move. His gaze was hard, but not in a way that felt piercing or like he was looking through you. He was thinking.

"Yoongi," the villain said again.

Yoongi didn't move.

Antimatter Man took the opportunity and lunged. It was a risk. The cuffs still encircled one wrist and both your ankles. As you fell backward, it felt as if the world moved in slow motion, you watched your wrist fling back, hitting the ring of the cuff and bounce back, completely unharmed.

You land on Outlier's chest, but his grip on you loosened. You got up but immediately felt your legs give out. Someone caught you and you looked up to see Yoongi looking down at you. He didn't speak, or really show any expression beyond motioning to the back of the room where there was a door concealed within the wall. Likely, this was the back door Outlier wanted him to open earlier.

Even though Yoongi was working with Outlier, you felt like you were free. Something told you he was helping you. The man obviously did not swear much loyalty to the villain. You reached and pulled the cuffs off, causing Yoongi's eyes to widen and you felt his arms waver as you tossed them in Outlier's direction, hoping one would at least chink his antimatter protective armor.

Someone winced. And you recognized it. It was the same pain you heard that night when the bomb went off and you felt Namjoon's body wrap around yours. When he woke up in the hospital and you couldn't help but hug him, forgetting he had multiple broken ribs. Even in his pain, he didn't stop you.

"Oh my God."

You wrestled out of Yoongi's grasp. Outlier--seemingly not really wanting to fight--ran as soon as Antimatter Man fell to the ground. The cuff had sliced through his clothes and a gash opened on his leg. You crouched next to him and reached for the gash, applying as much pressure as possible

"It's not as bad as it looks. It'll heal by tomorrow."

You looked up at him and met his eyes. It was him. It had to be. You reached up for the edge of the mask. He didn't stop you, his dark eyes watching your hand as you reached up and revealed his identity.

Namjoon.

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jazy3 · 3 years ago

Text

Thoughts on Grey’s Anatomy: 17X16

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

I really liked this episode! I loved the scenes between Meredith and Bailey and Meredith with her kids. So precious! I think Meredith is the perfect person to take over the residency program now that Richard has too many jobs as Bailey says! I think she is really going to shine in this new role. In the past I thought her and Alex might wind up running the hospital with him as Chief of Surgery and her as Residency Director. While that won't happen because Justin Chambers' exit, I think it will be great to see Meredith step up and take on the role. Ultimately, I want to see her operate again and be a badass, but since she’s still recovering, I think having Meredith take this on while she recovers from COVID is a great idea.

I’m glad that we got to see Maggie and Winston disagree on something and work through it in this episode. While I think Winston did overreact a bit when Maggie was upset and a bit reluctant about the wedding planning and said that everything felt like a compromise I'm glad that they showed the two of them disagreeing and working through it because up until now they've been portrayed as the perfect couple. I loved the scene where Maggie and Winston talked about the wedding and then it was revealed that Maggie had arranged for her Dad and Winston’s Grandmother to fly in for the wedding. That was very sweet and they got the actor that previously played her Dad back!

I also really liked the patient that Maggie, Helm, and Richard treated. I felt so bad for her when she told them that her husband had died and her dog had ran away and that she wasn’t good with people. I suspected she was pretending early on because of her loneliness. I was so sad about the missing dog for the whole episode and I was ecstatic when they found him! I’m more of a cat than a dog person, but pets are family. I am also glad that we got to learn more about Helm in this episode and that she appears to have left her Meredith obsession behind. That was funny the first few times they brought it up, but then it just got weird and annoying.

Especially after both CeCe the matchmaker and Carina talked to Helm about it and told her she needed to move on and find someone that could love her back and then she went right back to being obsessed with her. That’s been her whole personality for the past three seasons. Now in this episode we learn that she likes to cook, that she makes a mess when she cooks, and that she likes to watch the news. I think Helm moving in with Levi and Jo is a good thing, but he definitely should have cleared it with Jo first and they for sure need a bigger place.

I really liked the scene with Link and Jo. I like that he called her out on the fact that she obviously wanted to adopt Luna and told her she should stop doubting herself. I was surprised and disappointed that Jo’s adoption application was denied. She's clearly formed a bond with Luna and she was ready to have kids with Alex prior to his departure and she was close to Val prior to her death. I’m curious as to why her application was denied and why she failed the background check. I hope we get a follow up to that because she would be a great Mom to Luna and I want to know what happened there.

When we found that out my first thought was, “That’s illegal!” because here in Canada and in Ontario specifically to the best of my knowledge you can’t discriminate against someone and reject their adoption or foster application because they are a single parent, have had mental health issues in the past, stole a car while homeless or lived under an assumed name while fleeing domestic violence provided they meet the other criteria such as being able to provide a safe loving home and can prove that they are financially stable and have a good support network in place.

I was confused as first, but then my friend Amy and I were talking about it and I realized that I was applying my own context to another situation. Having the right to adopt and not be discriminated against is something that the women’s, gay rights, and disability rights movements here in Canada have fought very hard for. A lot of changes were enacted in the 2000’s and 2010’s to make it easier for people from all walks of life to adopt and foster. In fact, in many cases social services will look for prospective parents who share a child’s background or history because they will be able to relate to the child in a way that a parent without that experience might not be able to.

That’s not to say that everything is perfect and that discrimination and unfair treatment doesn’t happen. It does. People can be sneaky about it. But you do have recourse here. You would be able to contest the discrimination. I’m not familiar with adoption laws and policies for Washington State where the show is set so it’s possible that this kind of discrimination may still be legal there or there may not be specific policies addressing it. If anyone does know I would love to know more as what I’m saying is based on the experiences of people that I know here in Ontario. I do think that Jo will eventually get custody of Luna. They've spent a bunch of time setting this up and dropping hints about this storyline so it would feel hollow to have it end like this. It would also put Jo back in a dark place which she just got out of for the umpteenth time.

I’m interested to see where they go with Amelia and Link’s storyline around him wanting more children and Amelia not wanting anymore. Couples getting together and then realizing at a later point that they feel differently about having children or having more children in this case is a real thing that happens. Amelia and Link started off as casual sex partners which progressed into something more serious when Amelia found out she was pregnant. They've become this beautiful family and it turns out they are a great match, but because they didn't start out with marriage and kids in mind there are bridges that they have to cross at some point. I'm glad that Link is voicing his desire to have more kids down the road now so that they can talk about it.

I totally get why Amelia doesn't want more kids. After what happened with Christopher and Ryan and then Owen, Betty, and Leo and then with Meredith's kids I get why Amelia doesn't want more children. It's a lot of work, she's been through a lot, and getting overwhelmed could impact her sobriety. Link is a good guy and way more sensitive around this topic that Owen ever was so my hope is that they'll talk it out, Amelia will share her concerns, Link will understand, and he'll fulfill that need for more kids by spending more time with Leo or Meredith's kids.

Also real talk, Owen was an absolute asshole to Cristina and Amelia when they didn’t want kids and straight up said that there was something wrong with them because they didn’t want to be with something who treated them poorly and kept trying to force them to have kids that they didn’t want. While it’s great that he gets it now and was able to offer some words of wisdom to Amelia in this episode and be supportive it doesn’t make up for or change the fact that he was god awful to both of his ex-wives because they didn’t want kids and he did. He knew Cristina didn’t want kids long before they got married and he married Amelia without ever talking about his desire to have children and just assumed she wanted that too.

He should really call Cristina and apologize because what the hell? I think it’s the difference between perception and experience. Before when he wanted kids but didn’t have any he was in love the idea and couldn’t understand someone not wanting that. Now that he has two kids he realizes how much work that is and why someone might not want that especially if they are dealing with other issues that could be impacted by having more children. I really enjoyed the patient storylines this week. I had previously read a study about what Amelia is working on and how doctors and scientists have now determined that there are two types of patients who appear brain dead.

The kind that actually are where their body is still alive but no one’s home and the kind we see in this episode where their body is still alive and they are still in there, but can’t communicate in traditional ways, but can communicate through thinking about different things to answer yes or no questions. There is a special kind of machine that is needed to scan for this and they are expensive but they’ve proven that hospitals make the costs back within a year because the machines allow them to determine which patients are actually brain dead and which can still make decisions and answer questions about their care.

Something I didn’t like about this episode was that Levi chose Nico over Dr. Mason Post the hot Vaccine Doctor. I was really rooting for them to get together and for him to start something new with someone who might actually treat him well and I was so freaking disappointed wand pissed off when Levi showed up at Nico’s place and got back together with him instead of going over to Mason’s. I’m Team Mason all the way! He's a gem. He's attractive, funny, smart, direct, and kind. He's everything Levi deserves in a partner after the nonsense Nico has put him through.

I liked Nico and Levi when they first got together, but after Nico revealed that he lied about being out to his parents their relationship went downhill fast. He's treated Levi like crap ever since and his one-time apology doesn't fix that or do anything to address the way he's acted or fix his and Levi's relationship problems. I hope Mason returns next season, Levi winds up with him, and Nico goes off to work for the Mariners as he was supposed to originally.

My only other complaint is that Meredith and Hayes didn't have any scenes together this week, but it looks like they'll have scenes in the finale so I'm happy about that. My favourite moment of the episode was when Amelia told Owen that Tom had moved to Boston to help Jackson with the changes he wanted to make and Owen thinking that he had been fired said that he hated that there was one more thing he had to like and respect about the guy. I'm not an Owen fan in general, but that line cracked me up! I’m really looking forward to the finale! I’m excited that based on next week’s promo Meredith and Hayes will have scenes together and hopefully we’ll be getting some movement on the world's slowest moving slow burn storyline!

I swear to god glaciers move faster! People have gotten engaged, broken up, gotten back together, and moved to Boston in the time that Meredith was on that beach while Hayes worried about her from afar. So, I'm excited for that. I'm also excited for Maggie and Winston's wedding and to know why her Dad and his Grandmother are objecting. I hope to see Jo adopt Luna and I'd love to see some father-daughter scenes with Richard and Meredith.

Until next time!

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zara2148 · 5 years ago

Text

Fethsteel Fic: Not Good Enough (For You)

So here we go, my take on how Fethry Duck joined F.O.W.L. and met Steelbeak. Less warning stuff for this one, mostly just implied abuse, though it’s clear Steelbeak has not had a pleasant history. Also, both he and Fethry have some self esteem issues... and there’s not exactly spoilers for “Lost Harp of Mervana,” but the new intro takes place right after it.

Also on AO3. Make sure leave kudos and comments there. I enjoy the feel of being applauded.

Huey was placing Isabella Finch's journal back in Uncle Scrooge's study when he spotted the tin can phone there, now connected to nothing. Scrooge held on to everything in the mansion, even seemingly useless things, on the grounds that it may one day come in handy again.

It was one reason why Trash Day could be such a nightmare, though Scrooge was starting to learn how to let things go...

Huey found Della and Donald unpacking their gear off the sub, hanging up suits and boxing equipment until it was ready to be used again. "Uncle Donald? Mom? Do you know how to get in touch with Cousin Fethry? I think he'd love to hear all about Mervana."

"No, sorry, sweetie. I haven't heard anything from him since he rode off on the back of that... giant... fish..." Della shuddered in remembered revulsion.

"Mom, it was a krill."

"A fish is still a fish by any other name."

"You also seemed fine with Mitzy at the time."

"I was too busy thinking about all the Moonlanders we had to beat up."

Donald sighed and turned away from a crate to answer Huey’s question. “I haven’t heard from him either since then.” He shrugged. "But that's normal for Fethry. He either calls every five minutes or he gets so wrapped up in something we don't hear from him for six months."

"Doesn't he have a cell phone we could call?”

"Knowing Fethry, it would just get dropped in the ocean." There was a reason Scrooge only trusted Fethry with a tin can after one too many busted phones.

Huey’s beak twisted in discomfort. “But what if he got in trouble? What if he needed our help?”

Donald let out a breath, more frustrated with himself than anyone else, even Fethry. He knelt in front of Huey and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Fethry is…” Cuckoo bananas really hadn’t been the right thing to say to Huey, not when Donald could see the similarities between the two of them. Unsure how else to finish that sentence, he tried again.

“Fethry is who he is. But he’s also a grown adult capable of making decisions and taking care of himself. If he ever needs us, he knows where we are.”

Della grinned proudly. “He’s a part of the Duck family. Surviving is what we do.”

Uncle Donald and Mom weren’t wrong about that. Cousin Fethry had survived alone in a collapsing sea base for years. He knew the Junior Woodchuck guidebook from cover to cover, just as Huey did. He was better prepared than most to face trouble when it found him.

"Okay, I'll just make sure to write down all my observations about Mervana to share with him when he gets in touch."

Donald gave Huey a smile. "I'm sure he'll love that."

***

“Don’t call us, we’ll call you.”

It was an old refrain at this point.

The last job interview he had, Fethry had spent a full half-hour talking about the eating habits of krill and the merits of singing when asked about his team management skills.

The interview before that, he spoke briefly about the endless silence of the ocean when asked how he dealt with workplace difficulties. He’d been too quiet after that question.

And the interview before that… well, he didn’t think that room was ever going to be the same.

Fethry’s laptop was old. Wires were sticking out and duct tape was barely holding the screen together. He browsed through the listings for scientists on Quacked In, tweaking his cover letter and resume slightly for each.

Maybe he was going about this the wrong way. Maybe he should try for a slightly smaller position at a lab, like a custodian! He had experience keeping things in custody! And then he could work his way up from there.

But the little Donalds had such faith in him. They believed he could be a great scientist. Fethry wasn’t going to let them down. He never really realized until it was too late, but Fethry knew he had a habit of letting his family down.

Gladstone had offered to help, after that big event with purple people from the sky… ahh, yes, the invasion! But Fethry knew how often people tried to get close to his cousin to use his luck. Family shouldn’t do that.

The next listing didn’t quite catch his eye. But Fethry was at the point of applying for everything that came up for “scientist” and read through what little there was.

“WANTED: Skilled scientists for private company in Duckburg. Duties will vary. Flexible work schedule, late nights occasionally required. Must be able to roll with the punches.”

He had no expectations that it would progress to a job offer. How he chose to look at was that he was doing really well on reaching his goal of 100 job rejections. He’d read all about re-framing your objectives for positivity!

Once he reached 100, well, he might as well try for 200 rejections then.

He reviewed his resume and cover letter on the final submission screen. He clicked “Send.”

Then he moved onto the next listing and thought no more of it.

***

F.O.W.L.’s computer settings were extremely sensitized when it came to tracking the movements and activities of the Duck-McDuck clan. They knew when Hubert Duck received a new merit badge, or when Dewford Duck uploaded another video to his overlooked Insta, or when Llewellyn bought a soda that wasn’t Pep branded.

Any diversion from or progress in the Duck’s family’s normal routine could be significant. That’s why they monitored it all.

So when a member of the Duck family applied for one of their vacant positions, it got noticed. Alarms went off, alerting the highest-ranking members in F.O.W.L. command.

Just ten minutes after the application was received, Bradford clicked through it on his laptop.

F.O.W.L. could just ignore this. Stay away from the Duck family until they were more ready to move out in the open. It would be a sensible move.

But there was potential here he couldn’t overlook.

Fethry Duck was one of the harder members to track ever since the McDuck SubLab crumbled into an undersea abyss. Satellite images last had him riding some sort of kaiju across the ocean, which was just typical when it came to the Duck-McDuck family.

When the moon invaders came they had made many mistakes, such as caring more about the acknowledgment of their perceived superiority than how they could exploit the Earth. But they had been right that it was better to have all members of that family accounted for when it came to global-scale plans.

Having Fethry under constant watch at F.O.W.L. would leave Gladstone as the most transient variable. And the lottery winnings and sweepstakes prizes he left in his wake would make him infinitely easier to track.

Fethry was also one of the more controllable members of the Duck family. Neither misfortune nor ostentatious fortune dogged his steps. He didn’t question intention and he didn’t try to stir up trouble for his amusement. He was so lacking in ambition that he stayed in a lonely janitorial position for almost five years. If he was taken to a lab and given every reason to stay, he likely would do so without seeing anything amiss.

His goal was to steal the world right out from under Scrooge. Why not start by stealing a member of the man’s family? One Scrooge was unlikely to miss for quite some time, given his avoidance of Fethry’s company.

Yet for a duck who didn’t believe in handouts, it said something that Scrooge still cared enough about Fethry to give him a string of jobs that he more or less performed adequately. He’d prefer it not come to threats, especially since harm to his family made Scrooge predictably savage. But if worse came to worse… better to have a hostage than do without.

And if he was useless? Disposing of him would be no hardship.

He clicked “Accept” and composed a brief response, suggesting a range of times that Fethry could visit a front location in downtown Duckberg.

After opening up the email and reading through it, Fethry squealed and picked out the earliest possible time.

***

Fethry hummed as he walked inside the address the email gave him. It was a plain building, notable only for its pristine white exterior that seemed all too blank.

He’d dressed up nice for the occasion. His red jacket was replaced with a slightly frayed and browned business suit jacket. His tie was a piece of dried kelp that Mitzy had picked out for him. She always had the best eye when it came to kelp. And his cap was still present, keeping his thoughts toasty warm!

Yet his throat felt clogged and simultaneously too dry. The papers in his hand would be wrinkled if he clutched them any tighter. There was a heavy feeling in his chest that told him he’d be out of here soon enough, and he would need to try his luck elsewhere.

A duck with a dirty face and ruffled hair sat behind the visitor’s desk. Her name tag read “Ample.”

He approached her without his usual bounce. “Hello, I’m here for an interview.”

She nodded and glanced through the schedule. “Fethry Duck?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

“The director is ready to see you now. Go through the double doors over there.”

He dipped forward in an awkward half-bow, unsure if a handshake would be too presumptuous. “Thank you!”

He pushed his way through the double doors. The room was in grey shadow, a large desk slightly off toward one of the corners. Two chairs were in front of the desk, facing the figure behind it.

The shadows slightly obscured the person behind the desk. He could make out a shape but no features.

The shadow turned to him. “Ah, thank you for coming. Please take a seat.”

Fethry grabbed one of the chairs, shifting his paper copy of his resume as he looked at his interviewer up close.

Oh, he knew this vulture! He worked with Uncle Scrooge before! His name was buzzing around in the back of Fethry’s skull, waiting to be grabbed hold of…. what was it, what was it…?

“Bradley!”

“It’s Bradford,” he corrected in a cold tone.

Fethry slumped back in his seat, feeling small. “O-oh, I’m sorry.”

Bradford did not take the time to acknowledge what he said. He sat “So, Fethry Duck. Scrooge’s nephew.”

“Yes.”

“You hold no degrees, no certifications that would qualify you for a scientific position.”

“... no.” Fethry knew how much those pieces of paper meant to people. He sunk into his chair, almost wishing it could swallow him up, the way the ocean did…

...and that was not a train of thought he needed to be boarding right now. Fethry stepped off a mental platform, letting it whiz by.

Bradford continued, neither noticing nor caring about Fethry’s inner world and its struggles. “And yet, you thought you could apply here, for a scientific position with us.” He stood up and started to circle around Fethry. “Do you know what we do here, Fethry?”

“Science?”

“Among other things.” Bradford paused behind Fethry. Fethry couldn’t quite bring himself to turn and look at him. “What we do here... let’s just say we're out to change the world.”

Bradford resumed his circle and came to a stop in front of Fethry. He let silence reign for a few seconds before speaking. “And Fethry Duck? We’re willing to give you the chance to join our ranks.”

Fethry had to swallow down dry disbelief. “Really?”

“Yes.”

Fethry’s hands were clammy as he held out his stacks of papers. His grip wasn’t shaking, but his limbs felt hollow. “You don’t even want to look at my resume first?”

“I’ve already seen it.”

He let his arms fall to his sides. His voice came out small, as if he was once again speaking from the bottom of the ocean. “Why me?”

Silence returned. Bradford considered him over his beak.

“You’re the unnoticed member of the Duck-McDuck family. Isn’t it time you had a chance to prove yourself?”

Bradford wasn’t wrong. He wanted that chance. But the implication that he was only getting this job because of his family...

Well. Wasn’t that how he got every job he ever had?

Bradford turned away from him and loomed his way back behind his desk. “Mind you, the job still isn’t much. You’ll be working in a lab on your own projects, yes. But you will remain under direct supervision for the time being. Before undertaking any venture, you are to submit a full report that outlines expected costs and outcomes, in accordance with our guidelines.”

He sat down, his back hunched to allow him to continue looming from a lower height. “The pay is minimum wage, but you can work your way up through experience. Food and board will be provided on-site, so that’s two fewer things you have to worry about.”

Fethry absent-mindedly fiddled with his kelp tie, his attention otherwise on Bradford as he continued.

“As you may have surmised, your work is to be considered top secret. For the time being, we will ask that you remain in the facilities to better learn your responsibilities. There is to be no contact with the outside world without prior approval. Otherwise, you put ourselves and the work we do at risk.”

“If you accept the job under these terms, a car will be dispatched to pick up you and any belongings you choose to bring tomorrow morning.” Bradford steepled his fingers and looked through Fethry. “Do you accept these conditions?”

Fethry had forgotten he hadn’t said yes to anything yet. He wasn’t sure how he got so caught up that he missed that.

He could bring his team with him, their jar was extremely portable. But taking this job would mean saying goodbye to Mitzy for a while… hopefully, she would understand.

He nodded, then said for emphasis, “Yes.”

“Well, then. Welcome, Fethry Duck, to…” Bradford paused again, his words trailing off into familiar silence. “... well, we’ll just call it your new place of work.”

***

There wasn’t a whole lot to do at their headquarters between missions. The funnest thing to do around here was to play all the arcade games after the kids had gone home for the day.

However, the last time Steelbeak did that he blew an entire paycheck and ended up with only 20 tickets to show for it—not even enough to trade-in for a piece of candy. That didn’t make him stupid, that made the games rigged.

Now he stuck to the actual secret parts of their secret lair, wandering the halls. His wallet stayed full and fat, but the time between missions dragged on and on.

The gun course was fun, but there was only so much offtime an agent was allowed there. Spend too much time shooting things and command would send you over to their quack shrink.

The rec room was okay, but he’d be fighting every off-duty Eggman there if he wanted to pick which channel to watch on the sole TV. Not that he wouldn’t win, but his time in the prison rec room, and the underground fighting ring’s rec room before that, taught him that victory wasn’t worth it if you couldn’t find any good shows playing.

Which is how he often ended up doing what he did right now, trailing after Heron down to the labs. He’d watch her and watch the other scientists, trying to see how what they did tied into F.O.W.L.’s big ol’ villain schemes.

Did he always understand what she was working on? No. Did she ever really try to explain it in an easily understood way? Also no. Did these trips to the labs often end with her metal hand clamped around his beak, hissing at him and calling him names? No, well, yes. Yes, it did.

… he was supposed to be going somewhere with this, but he wasn’t quite sure where. Wait, no, now he remembered.

If he wanted to someday be the one hatching the schemes, he should watch how others hatched theirs first. It was like watching the prizefighter in the ring to learn how to beat him. Some people would only hit you if you asked them for anything, so you had to watch how they did something instead.

Most of the other scientists ignored him, and he didn’t pay them much attention either. But today, a duck in a red hat waved at them as he and Heron stepped inside the lab.

“Oh, hello! I’m Fethry!” The lab coat he was wearing hung loosely on him, clearly meant for a slightly larger bird.

“O-kaaay...?” Why was he expected to care?

A grin was spreading across Heron’s face as she looked the duck up and down. Then she turned her gaze to Steelbeak as she gestured offhandedly at the duck. “Fethry is our new marine specialist. He’ll be working on some of our most important projects.”

Heron… sounded like she was trying to hold back a laugh. What, was this smart guy really good at the jokes? Or did he know a party trick or two?

And what kind of name was Fethry? Might as well have called him “Webby” since he had webbed feet.

“Say, Fethry?” He knew that tone of voice from Heron. He didn’t always know the details of what she was saying, but he knew the sweetly sharpened tone was meant to cut someone down to size.

He felt… lighter, watching that tone be aimed at someone who wasn’t him. Like he was actually in on the joke for once. He also felt the urge to move to safer ground.

Heron’s smile was wide as she continued. “Why don’t you explain to my partner, Steelbeak, what you’re working on? He loves to hear about scientific experiments in great detail. Especially if you use a lot of long words.”

Okay, maybe he was still part of the joke.

Fethry’s eyes widened—he didn’t even know it was possible for someone to widen their eyes like that until Fethry did. “I’d love to!”

“Great!” Heron said in a passable imitation of Fethry’s enthusiasm. Under her breath she added, “Maybe now I can get some real work done.”

Steelbeak’s jaw tightened as she walked away. He refocused his gaze on the red-capped duck, who was all but jumping in place.

A snort escaped him as he sat down at a table. At least if this pipsqueak tried to clamp his beak, he could just knock him into next week.

“So what are you working on?” This was still more exciting than watching the walls, after all.

Fethry laughed nervously. It had been a while since anyone paid him a significant amount of attention. “Well, at the moment I’m just filling out the request paperwork. But I’m hoping to start an experiment on delaying the eating habits of the crown of thorns starfish.”

“The what?”

“Crown of thorns starfish. It eats coral.”

“And that is?”

“Coral is like…” Fethry scratched his head. He could never remember all the big words like polyps, sessile, and Anthozoa when he needed to. “It’s like skeletons scattered across the seafloor that fish live in.”

“Really? So fish just decide to live in dead bodies.” Sounded fake, but at least it wasn’t boring.

“Well, coral is a skeleton, but it’s also alive. It’s really bad when they do die.”

“So the fish live in alive dead bodies.” This Fethry guy was talking an interesting sort of crazy.

“Skeletons, yes. Called coral. Only these sea stars eat the coral, so the fish have no place to live then.”

“Now, these sea stars start off eating algae. It’s been called the grass of the sea,” he explained before Steelbeak even had to ask. Fethry’s beak scrunched up. “Though I have to say, grass usually tastes much better.”

“How long it takes for the sea stars to go from algae to coral varies. And there’s a lot of these starfish in the ocean. If they made the switch all at once, they could do a lot of damage.”

Huh. For the guy’s first project, it had the makings of a decent scheme. “So… if you could figure out how to make them do it, you could have them eat the fish out of house and home?”

Fethry actually nodded at that. “Or if I could figure out a way to slow it down, I could buy time for the reefs to grow.”

“...huh.” He actually followed most of that. Sure in his mind, coral reefs had a lot more skulls than they normally did. But he got the gist of what Fethry was talking about.

Black Heron hummed as she worked without interruption. Fethry calculated the costs of feeding and housing a small colony of starfish, making sure to show his work. And Steelbeak imagined blackmailing a fishing village with an army of sea stars. Small potatoes when it came to true villainy, but everyone had to start somewhere.

***

It wasn’t one of Heron’s longer science sessions. She tapped at some keys, read some screens, fiddled with some gadgets, and was ready to leave in a couple of hours.

Fethry had remained in the lab, drawing up plans for a sea star’s dream home. They’d need plenty of walking room, he’d said, so he was drawing up little pathway designs. Including one for a yellow brick road.

He started to reach out a hand to Steelbeak… for what, Steelbeak wasn’t sure. His body tensed in defense.

And Fethry must have noticed because he let his hand drop to his side and just smiled instead. “Thanks for listening. I know I kind of ramble.”

Steelbeak waited a few seconds to be sure that Fethry wasn’t going to make any sudden moves. Then he gave a shrug and followed Heron out.

It hadn’t been a hardship. Listening to weird undersea stuff passed the time. It was like catching a documentary on TV, without the meatheads that would grab the remote from you and change the channel to something else.

Black Heron laughed at Fethry as soon as they left the lab. "That guy," was all she managed to say before chuckles overtook her.

Steelbeak scowled. “What? What did he say that was so funny?” Was he the butt of someone else’s joke again? He'd make him go splat, if so.

Heron regained control of herself, but she was still grinning. “He didn’t have to say anything. It’s comical that he’s even here.”

The scowl receded and his brows knit in confusion. “I don’t —”

“You don’t get it, I know. Lucky for you, I’m in a good enough mood to explain. He’s Scrooge McDuck’s nephew. You remember, the guy you were supposed to get out of the arcade?”

“The big guy who wrecked one of my suits?”

“Ugh, no! He was the one wearing a top hat.” A frown flitted across her face, but her good mood was quick to reassert itself. Past failure meant little in the face of such a hilarious triumph.

“He came to us, wanting a job. He has no idea that we’re F.O.W.L. and no idea that we’re working against everything his family stands for. We’re holding him hostage, and he has no clue.” Another peal of laughter escaped Heron.

Steelbeak let out a chuckle as well, now that he was finally in on the joke. "Ahh, I get it. Classic dum-dum. What kind of idiot doesn't know who they're working for?"

The grin on Heron’s face slipped slightly.

"This should go without saying, but I know you so I'll say it anyway. Do not tell Fethry any details of your work, your missions, what we do here. Nada. Nothing."

"Well, duh. I know that. That's why they're called secret missions."

"Steelbeak, I once saw you brag about being a secret agent at a bar to try and get a date."

"And why not! They were cute!"

“And you wonder why your recreational leave is so limited.”

“What?”

“I’m saying dumb boys don’t get a lot of outdoors time.”

“Hey!”

A smirk moved across her face before she continued. “The director wants him to remain utterly oblivious, so secrecy is of the utmost importance. He’s not going to be happy if we have to lock him up or kill him for knowing too much.”

Steelbeak did not reach for his beak. He did not feel the slight dents that remained from trying to punch his own mouth open. “And we’re not just locking him up now, why?”

“Because the Ducks are easiest to manage when they think a situation is within their control!” Her voice was raised as decades of thwarted ambitions seeped into her tone.

Steelbeak was unimpressed. He could get just as angry, and he hadn’t needed years to get to that point.

“And what if he does ask what I do here?”

“Why would he ask? You’re hardly about to engage him in some deep conversation, are you?”

He couldn’t quite meet her eyes for some reason. “Well, no, but…”

“Oh, for larceny’s sake. If it does come up and you can’t avoid answering the question, just make something up. You’re an agent, do some lying.”

“... yeah, of course. I can do that.”

***

It doesn’t really sink in until later that night, back in his room, how Fethry answered all his questions without calling him, “Stupid.”

#ducktales #fethsteel #fethry duck #cousin fethry #steelbeak

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atxlxs · 3 years ago

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Beyond The Veil: Chapter 3

The staff meeting during the following Friday of the entrance exams has always been one of Nedzu’s favorite days. Several variables are set loose all at once and he gets to watch the chaos happen.This year, in particular, has an interesting candidate.

Viridis Muska.

Quite obviously, they aren’t Japanese and their records state that she moved here with her legal guardian 7 years ago after an accident unfortunately killed her parents. Her identity is as clean as his favorite tea cups and her homeschooling was explained by needing to learn the language. Their quirk registry matched up with most of their actions as well.

Most.

She had first garnered attention by finishing a whole hour early. Even some intelligence quirks don’t finish that fast. Especially since it was a test Nedzu personally made. Then there were her responses in the history section. It almost appeared as if she forced herself to use third person writing. The descriptions were remarkably detailed and certain events held smaller but no less important information that doesn’t exist in any textbook.

He would know.

Then came the practical. Her use of her quirk to enhance certain aspects of their physical abilities while also using it sparingly to prevent quirk exhaustion was intriguing and well throughout. Releasing the 0-point as time was ticking down Nedzu had expected everything to go as calculated.

Unknown information, however, always changes that.

The knowledge of where the other examinees were, the quick reaction time, the healed ankle. None of that was listed in her abilities and the government always keeps track of healers. In fact, looking over her quirk registry, it's surprisingly vague. As if the person who wrote it made sure that unless someone had personally seen the quirk in use, the description sounded fine. Yet after seeing the quirk in use, the description became lacking.

It was past intriguing, it was fascinating.

Watching the staff members file into the room, Nedzu couldn’t help the feral smile on his face. He had a sneaking suspicion as to why this particular examinee was so unknown. Afterall, no matter how hard Nedzu tried, the “veil” never lifted for him. He wasn’t one of them and he didn’t personally know anyone who was. If Viridis was what he thought they were, then Nedzu might finally get answers.

“Now let's get to it!” Nedzu chirped, reveling in the shudders the teachers tried to hide at his excited tone. The only one to succeed was Aizawa, but he also was personally taught by Nedu during his third year since Nedzu wanted to cultivate his skills. Now the man was the best underground pro there was.

They shuffled through applications and sorted them based on accepted, pending, and rejected. Midnight was in charge of business and design, Power loader for support with help from Ectoplasm, Cementoss and Present Mic for general, and Eraserhead along with Vlad King for heroics.

30 minutes in, Aizawa spoke up.

“Nedzu, I’m assuming examinee #2438 is who you were watching yesterday? Viridis Muska?”

Nedzu grinned at him and nodded. “Yes, as you might know considering your underground status, I have a sneaking suspicion that she is from ‘beyond the veil’.”

Aizawa actually dropped the paper he was holding. His eyes grew slightly larger as he dropped his head into his capture weapon to hide the bottom half of his face. Yamada, who despite what people thought, was also involved with the underground. Thus, the gasp was expected. Everyone else, however, looked confused.

From the back, where he was looking over some teaching material, Yagi Toshinori aka: All Might raised his hand like a student. Nedzu almost chuckled at the thought.

“Yes All Might?”

“What is this ‘beyond the veil’?”

Nedzu knew he would ask that but acted as if he didn’t and thought about it for a moment. In reality he was already going to tell his staff this year about the existence of the veil despite knowing nothing about what actually lies beyond because the underworld has been spiking in activity lately and there was a chance that big moves could be made soon.

Turning to face the room as a whole Nedzu dropped his typical smile and allowed his serious to show through his eyes before he spoke.

“This info may not leave this room. It is imperative that only a select few even know the name. The term ‘beyond the veil’ is the official title for the shadows that have hidden out of society and humanities view for thousands of years,” Nedzu watched as his faculty began paying rapt attention to his words. It wasn’t often that he got serious afterall.

“It pains me to say it but even I don’t exactly know what lies beyond this veil, however I do know that whatever is there is something beyond human.”

“Are you saying that humans aren’t the only creatures on the planet?” Vlad asked, confusion and disbelief lacing his words.

“Absolutely. In fact, those that know of the existence of the veil theorize that the only reason Humans have the abilities called quirks was because someone mingled with what was beyond. Viridis Muska is clean, clean in a way that only someone like me would even notice the slight discrepancies. Yet these discrepancies were only noticed because of my Knowledge of the veil. If i didn’t know, I wouldn’t have noticed how strange her abilities really are. Or questioned why her words in the history section seemed over-detailed.”

The room was silent for a few moments, then Aizawa moved and placed the application on the class 1-A acceptance pile.

With a grin, Nedzu nodded.

“I’ll be the projection to Viridis. I wish to invite her for a cup of tea.”

Eras was casually leaning against the tallest window in the house, a leg dangling over the side of the window sill as the other was pulled up next to them. A book rested in their hand against their raised leg, a cup of tea held in the other. Since the window she was sitting next to had a very clear view of the front of the house, Eras was able to see out of the corner of her eye as Muska fell face first into the moss ground while holding up an envelope.

Eras spit out her tea as she laughed and Muska got back up and ran into the house.

“SUGAR MOMMY THE MAIL CALL!” Muska screamed as she burst into the house. In response, Eras simply held out the hand with the book and let it drop to the ground, smacking Muska in the head from above.

“WhaT ThE FuCk?” Muska screeched as she snapped her head up to glare at Eras. A smug grin stretched over her features and she swung a leg over the pole off to the side of the door and slid to the ground.

“The acceptance letter came in then?” Eras asked, heading over to the kitchen to drop her mug in the sink.

“We literally don’t know whether or not I got in?” Muska said as she followed. Tibbles jumped from the catwalk as Muska passed the door frame and landed on her shoulders, a loud meow interrupting Eras’s rebuttal.

“Oh fuck off.” came Muska’s reply to whatever tibbles said. She waved off the next meow and walked over to the kitchen table. The black furball jumped off to sit next to Muska while on the table.

Once Eras sat on the opposing side, Muska tore into the envelope. Expecting a letter. Not a black disc. She and Muska stared in bewilderment before the disc lit up and projected a person up into the room. Nevermind.

“Its a fUCKIN RAT MAN?”

It's not a person, it's a Nedzu.

Tibbles, who had taken offence to the projected rat, dog, thing, swatted the projector and almost sent it flying if it weren’t for Eras’s inhuman reflexes. Catching the disc and reorienting it back where it was placed in the middle, The projector continued with little care of the scare he just gave the three.

Vaguely, Eras registered that Muska had passed and with flying colors, coming in second on the exam. Internally, though, she was searching for why Nedzu was sending out a projection. She had left a slight surprise in Muska’s quirk registry in order to figure out if the rat knew about the veil and what's beyond. Though she wasn’t expecting it to be found out so soon. What had Muska done to contradict the registry?

It clicked just as Nedzu cleared his throat once more.

“Also, seeing as you have achieved the highest score in the last 20 years of UA’s history on the written exam, I wish to extend a meeting to you to talk over tea. I am quite fascinated by your answers. Especially in the history section. Welcome Viridis! This is your academia!”

The light in the room came back to normal levels as the projection ended and Eras slammed her head onto the table, startling Muska out of her apparent shock.

“Uh, What?” The witch asked, completely unaware of what she did.

“What did you do during the practical?” Eras asked, muffled by the table top.

With a confused look, Muska went on to talk about their experience. From scouting to planning and scrapping some bots. Then as she got closer to the end, Eras was able to confirm her suspicions.

“This one girl had fracture so I healed that real quick and then focused on greenie-”

Well shit, Eras hadn’t expected Muska to instantly show off her healing capabilities. Now they had a meeting with the rat-man. Eras groaned and cut off Muska mid rant about red flags and someone named Midoriya.

“What?” Muska asked, slightly annoyed at being interrupted.

“I made your quirk registry purposefully vague to accommodate for your other abilities and people wouldn’t know what to look for if they had never heard of the veil before. Nedzu probably saw you use Healing abilities, which I never mentioned to make sure the government didn’t flag you as a healer, and compared that to your probably almost first person account of history and connected the dots. Now you have a meeting with a rat man to talk about you possibly being a part of the veil.”

It was silent for a bit before a loud meow and purr followed and Muska slammed her head on the table.

“We know Tibbles, you don’t have to rub it in my face like that.”

@baguettehead

#bnha mha #bnha #mha oc #mha fanfiction

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years ago

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Survey #443

“it’s not a life sentence, but a death dream for you”

When was the last time you were in the hospital? Me personally, uhhh sometime in 2017? Why were you there? I had a cyst removal surgery. Do you like Cheez-Its or Cheese Nips better? Cheez-Its. Have you worn headphones at all today? Yeah, I pretty much always do because YouTube is always open and on a video. When was the last time you had blood drawn? A few months ago or something? I'll be getting some drawn shortly though for genetic testing; due to my mom having some dysfunctional cancer prevention gene, all her children are getting tests to see if we inherited it. The last time you got blood drawn, what was the reason? I want to say I was tested for anemia most recently. What color eyes does/did your father have? Brown. What do you daydream most about? Things I wish I didn't daydream about. What is your relation to the last child you spoke to? They're my niece and nephew. Do you believe the Holocaust happened? No fucking shit? Do you prefer zebra stripes, tiger stripes, or leopard spots? Tiger stripes, ig. When did you last see a dog? At my nephew's b-day party a couple weeks ago. Nicole brought her dog Zeke over. Have you ever been in the mountains when the moon and stars were up? No, but omg I wish!!!!!!!!!! Do you know anyone from Canada? Yep. Has a cat ever licked you? Yeah. Roman especially loves to give kisses. Where would you most like to go in your state, etc. that you haven’t been? The Wizard of Oz park, probs. Are you scared to look at your own organs on x-ray or ultrasound? No, that shit's rad. o: Have you ever walked on a frozen lake/river? No, that sketches me out. I'd be afraid of the ice breaking and me falling in. Have you ever seen a volcano? No. Have you ever met an Alaskan? Met in-person, no. But I do have an online friend who's from Alaska. Or may still live there? Idk. Have you ever mowed the lawn (even a little bit)? No. Have any unpleasant public transit stories to tell? Nah. Do you know any German words? Seeing as I took four semesters of the language in high school, I know a good deal. However, my skill has definitely atrophied with time and lack of application. Do you have a passport? No. Are your teeth straight? I mean, mostly. I had braces for too long, but I didn't wear my retainer, so they've moved back some. Would you mind dating someone significantly shorter than you? Yeah, sure. I've never understood why height is an issue for some people. Can you quote the movie Mean Girls? No. I personally never got the craze. Have you ever swam in the Atlantic Ocean? I have. The Pacific? No. Can you make yourself cry? No. Have you ever held a starfish? Not a live one. What would you do if you found out your ex was pregnant/fathered a child? Faint or vomit. Wail. All three. Are you very close to your siblings? No. :/ Can you do CPR? No. Favorite sport to watch in the summer Olympics? I don't care. Ever flushed a fish? Yes. Ever been paid for sex or a sexual favor? No. I wouldn't agree to that. Last friend you talked to online? Sara. Has anyone ever said you looked like a celebrity? No. What is the best ice cream flavor? Vanilla. You have so many topping options. What’s your favorite thing to do outside? Photograph nature, especially wild animals. What would you spend $1,000 on? A big, really pro tattoo. What was the best (non-romantic) night you’ve had? Hm. I don't know. Who did you last lay in a bed/couch/recliner with? Mom and I sat together on the couch some time ago. Do you keep a planner? No. What are you craving right now? I've got a seriously random craving for shell pasta with a nice, meaty tomato sauce. Do you want kids anytime soon? DEFINITELY not soon, but also never. Has anyone ever drunk called/texted you? No. Have you ever slept in the same bed with the last person you kissed? Yeah. What’s the best feeling in the world? Knowing you're in love and really feeling it. What’s something you really want right now, be honest. There's a lot of things. Who in your family do you act like the most? I don't know, really. Who has made the biggest sacrifice for you? My mom, 100%. Do you believe that your first true love can be your only love in life? Of course not. Have you ever kissed under water? Yes. Is there that one guy that you’ll always have feelings for no matter what? Suuuure is. Wish it wasn't like that, but I don't see it ever changing, to be real... Are you 100% over the last person you kissed? 100%? No, I can't say I am entirely. Have your parents ever caught you kissing a guy? "Caught me?" How old is this question meant for? Yes, they've seen me kiss a guy before. If you mean like, seriously kiss-kissing, no. Which one of your exes hates you the most? Probably Jason. Are you named after anyone? No. Well, my middle name has been passed down, but "Brittany" wasn't from anybody else in specific. What reminds you the most of your last relationship? The song "The Only Exception" by Paramore. Have you ever rejected someone but they still wouldn’t give up on you? In elementary school, yes. When growing up, did your family always eat at the dinner table together? Usually, yes, at least when growing up. Sometimes we'd use little tables to eat in the living room though while watching TV. What is the greatest source of happiness in your life? My mom, best friend, and pets. What was the last charity/cause you donated to? I'm unsure, actually. Who was the last person you got a handwritten letter from? Sara! :') Did your parents read bedtime stories to you when you were little? Mom did. Have any of your worst fears ever come true? Yes. The greatest fear I've ever had was losing Jason, and that happened. Is anyone in your family divorced? My parents, for one. My older half-sister has also be divorced because her ex is an absolute piece of manipulative horse shit. Has anyone in your family gotten pregnant as a teenager? I think my mom? No, maybe not... Idk. I ain't doing the math. What’s your greatest talent? If you want a serious answer and not something self-depracating, I suppose writing. Would you ever want to get a master’s degree? It'd be cool, but I've never *actually* wanted to pursue that. Have you ever worn revealing clothing in order to get attention? No. Have you ever been falsely accused of being racist? I've never been accused of being racist, because I'm not. To you, is sex just about physical pleasure, or do you see it as an expression of love and commitment? Absolutely the latter. I could never engage in sex without deep emotional commitment. How many times have you been drunk in the past 6 months? Zero. What’s your favorite French food? I have no idea. What’s the most elaborate recipe you know how to cook? Nothing. Which rooms of your house have doors that lead outside? The living room and kitchen. Best purchase you ever made? My snake. :') Is there anybody you think is hot over the age of 40? I haven't seen him a long time, but boy did I have a thing for James Hetfield in high school. There are defs others, but no one else immediately comes to mind. Have you ever been caught sneaking out? No, because I've never tried to. How many Facebooks have you had? Just the one I still use. Have you ever been punched in the face? No. When was the last time you talked to the first person you kissed? The beginning of February, 2017. What is the latest you have ever slept in? Past 5. Do you have to watch yourself in the mirror while you brush your teeth? No. Do you text when you drive? Fuck no. You couldn't pay me to. What movie do you really want to see that’s out? I don't even know what movies are out right now. Did America really put a man on the moon? Eventually, yes. Call me crazy, but I do believe the supposed first one was faked, though, to "beat" Russia in the space race. Do some research and it's pretty shocking. Would you like to date someone a lot purer than you? Idc. Do you turn your phone off at night when you go to sleep? No, but I turn the brightness down for if I wake up in the middle of the night and want to check the time. Have you slept in a bed with the last person you kissed? Yeah. Has anyone ever told you that they loved you, and you didn’t say it back? Yes. Has anyone ever played a prank on you? What happened? I don't believe so. Do you like tattoos and piercings? Helllll yes. :') What are you really into? Animals, art, some weird Korean guy on the Internet... Do your parents like your best friends? Yes. Have you ever taken a nap with a member of the opposite sex? Yeah. Do you have weak upper body strength? Yes. What color was the last cup you drank from? It's just clear glass. How old is your oldest sibling? I actually don't know her exact age. 30-something. What was the last thing you ate that had nuts in it? A Nature Valley cashew bar I had earlier today. How many pieces did the last puzzle you completed have? I have no idea. Who did you last shake hands with? uhhhhhhhh Has anybody asked you out on a date recently? Nah. When was the last time somebody asked you to be their girlfriend? When Girt asked me out a few years ago. Name something you’re picky about: Food. Who did you last ask for help? My mom. Do you like corn? Yeah. If you were offered to smoke some weed right now, would you accept? Right now I honestly probably would, believe it or not. Honestly, who is the last person to tell you that they love you? My mum. Have you ever made out for more than a half hour straight? Yeah. How do you earn money? The only occasions where I ever and very rarely earn money is if someone (non-family, of course) pays me to take pictures for them. Where were you raised? All you need to know is a crappy town in eastern NC. Are your ears gauged? No, but I want the first holes in my earlobes to be, but only with very small gauges. I just can't figure out how to do it myself, at least with the gauges I have. I think I'm missing something. Explain what triggered your last kiss? We were saying goodbye. Could you go a month without talking to your best friend? I mean I could, but it'd seriously fucking suck. Have you ever made out in a park? No, because I don't do that in public. What are you listening to? "Paint You With My Love" by Marilyn Manson. I wasn't big on the album when it came out, but this is one of the songs that's aight to me. Last thing you said out loud? I gave Venus a little wave and said "hey babe" or something like that like I do sometimes when she's slithering around and looks out towards me. Are you sad? Always at least a little bit. I have been kinda down this evening. Where is your dad? I would hope at home. He's probably watching TV, or maybe in bed.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''paint me with your love'' by marilyn manson

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liqvid-gold · 3 years ago

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GIA Task #01: July

If your character’s in a bad mood, do they prefer to be left alone or have someone try to cheer them up?

Ionna tends to prefer to be alone with Pingu, but even they admit that sometimes they need help processing or comfort. it’s hard to be upset when you have a fluffy dog giving kisses. Sometimes, though, you need to go for a run to cool off. Or you need a friend, some good cannolis, and some dumb movie.

How do they deal/have they dealt with conflict in their relationships with others, past or present?

It’s taken a lot of mishandled conflict for Ionna to learn not only her limits, but that others have them too. And sometimes you just have to feel what you’re going to feel before you can talk about it honestly. Her relationship with her parents is evidence of this.

When she was initially contemplating dropping nursing school, they fought pretty regularly. They were supposed to be setting an example, after all. And wasn’t she just so sure when she started? This was a huge commitment. What was the plan? Did she have one? Was she sure?

They only wanted the best for their child, but it initially felt like a personal slight to suddenly reject such a significant investment.

Ionna felt betrayed by their disappointment.

It was weeks before everything was outlined properly. They decided to present a business plan, a draft of the one she was intending to use for her applications for licensure and permits. The family was able to talk it out properly at that point, and move on, but it took work.

Who or what is your character currently proudest of? Why?

Ionna’s pretty proud of herself. She had a dream and she built it and while it doesn’t always thrive, it is surviving. And she gets to run her business her way, and has the support to do the parts that she wants to do the most. Supposedly, it’s the american dream.

Explain why your character has moved to/stayed in NYC?

She got familiar with the city initially when she started doing her internships with non-profits and charities in between semesters of college. There was (and is) so much need, and while they know there’s need everywhere, they had the connections there to start building their dream of running a point of contact for resources and help out of a bar.

Was it crazy? Absolutely.

Would she do it differently? Absolutely not.

If your character was having a bad day, which of these would they prefer as a means to cheer them up? Their favorite dish, a massage, or some space?

Food. Hands down. No question. Ionna loves food. And wine. But mostly food. Her family was pretty quick to instill that particular love. Family dinners. All-out feasts for holidays and festivals whenever possible. Teaching the basics of cooking at a young age.

Her grandma’s spanakopita is one of the best savory comfort foods.

There’s a section of the menu dedicated to Greek cuisine that’s often designed by Ionna, and like most of the menu, is adjusted seasonally to compensate for the local farms and business support.

What usually jump starts their day? Coffee? Exercise? A Shower? Breakfast? Or something else entirely?

Pingu decides how and, often, when the morning starts. Morning walkies is sometimes morning joggies. And then a shower, unless it’s a gym day.

Does your character thrive in order or chaos?

They eat most flavours of chaos for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, but even they have their limits. They’re very grateful for their office staff who tend to handle the Order of the bar a bit better.

Would your character say that their parents were/are good at being parents?

Their late twenties into their thirties came with a certain change of perspective. Her parents were definitely parents. Sometimes their choices sucked, but their hearts were in the right places and they never meant any harm. They weren’t bad, but they definitely had the practice to deal with her baby sister and have, in Ionna’s mind, done a lot better in some respects.

What scares your character the most?

After losing her bar? Internally? Being alone. Or having to face hardship alone. They put so much of themselves out into the world that the worst feeling in the world would be to not have anyone there when they need someone most.

What did the last relationship your character was in teach them?

If they make repeated, passive aggressive comments about your profession, it probably runs as a deeper problem and they can either figure it out and get over it, or it’s time to move on. It’s just not worth the time wasted combating their negative fixation on something that’s a core part of her life.

If your character could choose 1 superpower, what would it be and why?

I think she’d want to be super fast. Or the ability to read minds.

What’s something people often misunderstand about your character?

Socially, she’s very awkward without meaning to be, and it’s not really because she’s poorly practiced or anything in particular. They have just ended up three or four steps ahead in the conversation (in her head), and assume the other person has managed to stay on the same page when they’re two and a half pages behind because that’s how time and conversations work.

What is something your character tends to procrastinate on?

Paperwork. It’s boring. It’s not pointless but it feels obvious. It’s necessary. But it’s still boring to such a degree it should be a sin. Ionna doesn’t know what to do when all of her office staff end up having vacations or emergencies all at the same time.

Well. She does. She just hates doing it so it takes three times as long as it really should.

Where does your character like to go/what does your character like to do for inspiration?

When she’s working on menus, they tend to throw “parties.” They are less party and more test bed for future food or drink items. But the guests don’t necessarily know that. It does mean they tend to happen more at season change time once she knows what fresh produce will be available.

There’s always a big spread of lunch and dinner samples, and she tends the bar herself on the condition that it’s dealer’s choice on the drink.

Sometimes it works out, sometimes it doesn’t.

They still haven’t gotten the mulled pumpkin spice mead to work out properly and haven’t figured out why.

Does your character usually follow their head or their heart?

They lean pretty heavily on their heart to start, but the head does catch up to what’s going on eventually and evens the keel.

Who or what brings your character the most joy in their life today?

Pingu for a who, though Calliope is always a delight to be around. Who condensed sunshine and infused it with that girl?

She also really loves it when a client who’s been referred to support services comes back to visit in a better position than when they’d initially stumbled into their bar. It’s not necessarily a reminder of why they do what they do, but it does bolster their resolve to keep going.

Does your character have a hero or someone they admire or look up to? If so, who and why?

With the perspective of proper adulthood, Ionna’s really come around to admiring her parents. They’ve worked really hard to build what they have, and they didn’t succumb to the desire to continue expanding and end up over-stretching themselves. They decided what they were going to do and how much they wanted to put into it and what they wanted out of it, and then they didn’t give in to the pull to do more than that.

From a business owner perspective, that seems like such an easy trap to fall into. Ionna does want to keep expanding the supports available, yes, but she doesn’t want to fall into the trap of having multiple locations for the sake of profit. That’s not what she’s here for. She’s here to help, to be a safe place for folks to have a good time, and to treat her employees well.

Is your character much of a reader? If so, what author(s) do they like?

They’re less for literature and more for recipe books. But books, not necessarily websites with inane blog posts that drone on for twelve paragraphs too long. Other how-tos are also appreciated, since they like to at least try and do things on their own.

Does your character like surprises? How do they tend to react to surprises?

Ionna likes nice surprises. Less so surprises from Pingu since those are often smelly, if few and far between.

Gifts are pretty important to them, for a lot of occasions. It’s not necessarily common in American culture, so whenever anyone remembers it’s a joy and tends to leave her impressed for a good while afterward.

Is there anything that your character collects? If so, what is it/what are they?

They have a sizeable collection of corks from favoured bottles of wine or bottles from special occasions. Eventually they want to turn it into a table, but they don’t have enough yet.

#giatask #July 2021 task #Ionna Foti #about

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jed-thomas · 4 years ago

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Debt and Unreality at a British University

Most of the time, when journalists or researchers ask students in Britain about their “concerns” and their “experience”, they’re not looking for answers like: ‘I don’t feel real.’ Because, well, what do you do with that?

A friend of mine sat on a stiff leather couch in the hallway, tiredly scrolling. She’d just clocked out. For nine grand, we were getting about 7 hours of teaching a week. The rest of the time, of course, was supposed to be devoted to reading all the material we’d be discussing in seminars or attending lectures on. But she was working part-time at a Pizza Express. The maintenance loans only stretch so far, especially with rent around here. And you have to catch a bus to get to campus. Lots of us, our parents helped out. But if the ‘rents can’t or won’t pay, you’re a little stuffed.

In 2019, it was reported that over half of young people are now attending university. These figures represent the fulfilment of a target set by Tony Blair at a Labour Party conference in 1999, during his first term as Prime Minister. In July of the year before, Blair’s parliament passed the Teaching and Higher Education Act, introducing tuition fees for universities across the UK. In 1990, around 25% of young people stayed in some form of full-time education beyond the age of 18. Today, most young Britons will have experienced the presumption that they’re a university student and frequently, the expectation.

Yesterday, the University of Warwick’s official Twitter account shared a link to a blog post on how to ‘relieve intense stress in 60-seconds.’ The post was written by a current student.

In 1962, towards the end of Harold Macmillan’s Conservative premiership, “ordinarily resident” students were exempted from tuition fees and made eligible for a means-tested maintenance grant. Shortly after the Teaching and Higher Education Act of 1998, maintenance grants were replaced with loans. In 2004, the cap on tuition fees rose to £3,000 and by 2010, it had risen to its current rate of around £9,000. There were protests over that last increase, of course. The protests were in 2010 and I went to university in 2017. I now owe the British government around £27,000 for tuition and around £10,000 for maintenance. If you’re going this year, you’ll end up owing roughly the same - more, if your family earns less than mine.

You hear things. “Oh, they’re antidepressants.” A friend with a weird flatmate who never leaves their room. Oddly intense desperation eking out of drunk students from some corner of a smoking-area. Vaguely recognisable names and their time of death. “Honestly, just couldn’t be bothered to get up.” An acquaintance from your course drops out and moves back home. Barely concealed frustration in your professor’s tone, hushed rants in faculty corridors. And you notice other things. Admissions of 'suicidal ideation' and life-crises on a FaceBook page which is supposed to be about students sending anonymous messages of romantic interest. Sarcastic tweets about ‘mental health dogs’ and ‘mindfulness seminars’ have become cliché. A routinely empty chair in your seminar room. Strained eyes staring into the middle-ground, silence attending the teacher’s question. Dysfunction as normality. Your diagnosis in your bio next to where you go to uni.

In 2014, it was reported that one in seven full-time students also work full-time. The same report put the proportion of full-time students working part-time at a third. A number of reasons were given as to why they were doing this. I wonder, when they look at their bank accounts, or their accommodation, or their text on sociology, on Latin American history, on virology, existentialism, do they feel they have a handle on things? "I’m a full-time barista, full-time student." "Hello, I’m an impossibility."

For students, the British university is an experiment in unreality. Am I a customer or a pupil? Am I demanding a service from a business or being educated by my elders for my own good? Will it be my fault for selecting a ‘non-applicable’ degree or their fault for selling it to me? Everything is optional, even when it isn’t. You spend all week pouring over the text but feel embarrassed to correct or question the people who clearly didn’t because the professor doesn’t: “Don’t worry if you haven’t done the reading.” Next time, you just put in a sentence or two to fill one of the many silences, improvising off of what others have said, pretending you read whatever it was. Then, of course, coursework is set assessing your knowledge of the curriculum. You spend a couple of days stressed out, hoping to turn your lack of knowledge into a scholarly tone of caution and hedged bets. You go to a careers fair, a student union election, a party, a debate. Nothing sticks, tomorrow is the same day. Your teachers are devotees of a faith but you have to fill the ranks of their picket against the Church. The protestors mass, fill the campus with tension and noise, and then, in a couple of weeks, you’re sitting in the same seminar room with the same professor doing the same thing. You have to think surprisingly hard to remember that past, fugitive now in an opaque present. The only thing that changes is that a few new buildings emerge from their shells of scaffolding. When you miss almost five weeks, there is an email or two. One time, because of your chronic truancy, you get some mark or something, some strike against your name. Nothing happens. In fact, you find it incredibly hard to even find the place where that warning is actually recorded, displayed. You graduate with a First.

Recently, there has been a steady trickle of data, news items, and reports, gradually exposing the rate of suicide in higher education in the UK. It came to a head last week, as a Conservative peer, Lord Lucas, called for a bill which would give British universities a duty of care in the mental health outcomes of their students. Lord Lucas’ plea represents the mainstream of a movement by aggrieved parents of young people who took their lives whilst at university. One of these young people was Benjamin Murray, a 19-year-old in his first year studying English Literature at Bristol University. Shortly before falling to his death, Murray was told by the university that he would have to leave. A local newspaper reports that, according to sources at the university, his attendance was ‘sporadic’ and he had ‘failed to hand in expected work’. Discussing interactions he had with Murray which revealed that the undergraduate was suffering with an anxiety disorder, senior tutor Ben Gunter remarks that: 'A large number of students we see have varying levels of anxiety.’

I mean, look at it this way. You’re saddled with a debt, a sizeable debt. It makes you nervous just looking at all the zeroes. But this moment of selling your soul was planned, it was expected from the beginning. And there are voices all around you that keep coming up and whispering in your ear. It’s just a tax on spending after education. No-one’s expecting you to pay it back. It all gets forgiven when you hit 40. What’s a person to do in that situation? The same government that portrayed the national debt as an existential threat is the same government that turns around and says: Don’t worry. Does debt matter or doesn’t it? Is this real or isn’t it?

People are screaming, again. It's 5:35 in the afternoon. Earliest you’ve heard it this week. They’re really drunk. Or on something. You’re only dimly aware of it, really. It’s ubiquitous, it’s ambiance. Dimly, you wonder if they realise how loud they are being, how obvious their public intoxication is. You perk up when you recognise a few voices. People on your course - you’ve got an essay due tomorrow at noon. Down the ages, goes the cliché, students are drunk and reckless with deadlines. But you’ve been wondering whether it really matters if you get a 1:1 instead of a 2:1. Don’t they inflate the numbers, anyway? And besides, it's experience that matters on a CV, everyone’s got a degree these days. I’d just be another idiot with a 1:1. Your flatmate drunkenly knocks on your door and you seriously consider going back on your refusal to go out tonight.

A survey of undergraduates in seven universities in England reportedly found very high rates of dangerous drinking, with 41% identified as ‘hazardous drinkers’. It also considers that one in five students were likely to be diagnosable as alcoholic.

Every weekend students give in to the unreality. I know what you're thinking. Of course, young people have always experimented with substances, acted like they were invulnerable, ignored consequences. But many of the young people before us were unfamiliar with this level of unreality, this level of confusion. So the recklessness intensifies in those claustrophobic spaces that remain open to us.

I have deadlines, right now. A few days to go. I’ve been looking at the news, all the statistics on internships and jobs falling through for graduates and young people, in general. The worst hit. I’ve been talking to my friends, moaning about the job hunt, the rejections and the no-replies. Anecdotes tumble down the grape-vine of graduates from respected universities not even being able to get a part-time job at a supermarket because of the number of applicants or whatever. A couple of my friends are intermitting due to mental health problems. When I was home, before the most recent lockdown, a number of my friends and I worked at a pub. I’m back at uni and they’re still there. Class of 2020, all of us. Of course, they like it, it’s fine. But where do we go from here?

Don’t ask me, mate, I’ve got deadlines.

#university #britain #UK #tuition fees #coronavirus #mental health #mental illness

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oikawas-bae · 5 years ago

Text

Dinner Time

What about school?

WC: 1.2k

Previous • pt.9 • pt.10

You knew you had started to have teeny tiny feelings for Bokuto but recently, the affection you had for him had multiplied by the millions. You weren’t just thinking ‘wow, Bokuto is so amazing, he’s skilled at volleyball and he’s impossibly kind.’ Now you were thinking, ‘Woah, Bokuto looks so handsome today, he doesn’t even try…’ It wasn’t just that, the sound of his voice was enough to envelope your body with warmth and whenever he spoke, you were entranced. He had no idea that he affected you so deeply, perhaps that was the worst of it. He was oblivious and couldn’t put you out of your misery by rejecting your feelings. That was assuming he didn’t return your feelings but to you, the opposite seemed impossible. Bokuto was too aloof to like anybody, especially someone so strikingly different than him. He would want someone that could capture his passion or even match it, they would catch his attention. But you, as mellow as you were, didn’t stand a chance.

It was dinner on Friday, you had finished your food and were working on an article for the school newspaper. Bokuto wasn’t quite finished because he always talked too much and his food sat on his plate until he remembered it was there and stuffed a forkful into his mouth. You were working on Bokuto’s laptop and a notification popped up, an email with the subject ‘Your Purchase was Confirmed!’ Curiously, you clicked and were redirected to his email, the attachment was a relatively expensive dog bed. But Bokuto didn’t have a dog…

“You weren’t supposed to see that! It was supposed to be a surprise for PuffPuff” He threw himself over the couch and landed with his body sprawled all over the couch, his foot on your shoulder.

“Please don’t tell me you spent so much on my dog.”

He readjusted himself, “Don’t worry about it, I live comfortably.”

Flicking his forehead, you pursed your lips, “You should be saving that for college next year. Housing is expensive you know?”

He slumped, “I don’t know, I’m just gonna go somewhere with a good volleyball team. It doesn’t really matter if it’s prestigious or not. And a school nearby has one of the best teams in the country so I think I’ll go there and commute”

Your head lowered and you looked back at the laptop, lamenting over the fact that Bokuto would most likely cease to be in your life in a couple of months. You would be losing this boy that had become such a central part of your life.

“What? You’re thinking something. Tell me- remember that thing we discussed about communicating more-”

You sighed, placing the laptop on the footstool, “I just forgot that we don’t have the same plans and we’ll be going to different universities...”

He eyed you dubiously, “And?”

You couldn’t help but smile at his lack of awareness, “We probably won’t see each other after we graduate, Kotarou.”

You said it with a dismal grin and Bokuto couldn’t hold back his loud gasp (your parents looked to see if anybody was hurt), “How could you smile while saying that? I know you said you lack reaction skills but that’s just mean!”

“Kotarou, please calm down. I was laughing at how it took you this long to figure this out.” You dodged his playful punches.

He stopped, “Wait, where are you going for school?”

It shouldn’t have made you so nervous but Bokuto looked fearful for the first time, like he was losing just as much as you were when high school finished, “I don’t know yet but I applied to several schools, including the close one you want to go to. But my first choice is L‘Université du Seine. ”

“Huh?”

“It’s a French school. It’s extremely competitive for journalism and writing majors and that’s what I wanna do.”

He still looked confused, “Why would you want to go to a French school?”

“It’s a really good school and the networking is amazing since people come from all over to attend. I could end up working in some exotic publishing company.” You lit up and he couldn’t help but frown at how something you could be so passionate about would tear you away from him.

“I’m guessing acceptance rates aren’t very high.” He was skeptical.

You snapped out of your daydream, “Yeah...but I applied for Early Action so they’re letting me know at the end of this month.”

“That is early.” He sat back, holding back his comment for fear of getting into another fight with you.

_______

Now aware that there was a possibility he’d never see you again in a couple of months, Bokuto was desperate to spend as much time with you as he could. But this had to be the best-worst thing he could do considering how nervous you got from seeing him. He would walk you to school, walk you to classes you didn’t have together and even invited you to Akaashi’s house to play video games. Akaashi didn’t mind if you could help him tame Bokuto and you weren’t bad company either.

You swung open his fridge to grab some snacks when you spotted a small box, decorated with pastel colors and a ribbon wrapping around it. You froze, “Wait...Akaashi….do you have....”

Concerned, Akaashi walked over to you and followed your gaze, his eyes landing on the box, “Oh yeah, macarons. Go ahead and take them if you want. I’m not a sweets person really.”

You sniffed deeply as if already tasting the macarons by just thinking about them. You snatched them and thanked Akaashi with a bow to the floor.

“Kotarou, macarons!”

“Macarons?!”

The two of you practically inhaled the box within a matter of minutes, Bokuto was praising the heavens for each bite. “Sweet, holy...this...this is really the best...”

“Thank the french.” Akaashi watched the spectacle from behind the couch. Bokuto stopped eating midbite, “The French? Like where your university is (y/n)?”

You nodded.

Akaashi was interested now, he pushed his foot off the wall, making his way to you, “What french school?”

“L’université du Seine.”

He broke into an impressed chuckled, “You applied? That’s amazing!”

You looked at your macaron embarrassed, “Yeah...I’m supposed to get a call this week to let me know if I passed the preliminary phase and qualify for an interview.”

Bokuto was visibly upset behind you and Akaashi scowled at him, knowing why he was so upset, which he thought was ridiculous. Bokuto should be happy for you but he looked like a child with his arms crossed at the store because he didn’t get the toy he wanted.

You noticed the face Akaashi was making and were about to question it until your phone rang. You held it to your ear. Bokuto leaned in close to listen.

“y/n l/n?”

“Yes, yes. That’s me.”

“This is L’Universite du Seine. You applied a while ago and we want to congratulate you for qualifying for the next phase of the application process, which we would like to inform you about via email or text. Does this number work?”

“Yes! It does! Thank you so much!”

Bokuto fell back in defeat and Akaashi nearly got up and beat him for being so inconsiderate. “I qualify!” You pulled the two into a hug, not thinking about how hot you felt from holding Bokuto so close. All you could think about was the amazing opportunity to come.

Taglist: @miyulovestowrite @hqprotectionsquad @slothplantsworld @lalaloverss @takingyouruwus @holophil @suguggg

I FINALLY NAMED THE SERIES!! WOO YEa, and if y’all haven’t tried macarons, get on that shii, also!!

Go check out @iwachans-beefyarms, they’re new but they’ve got some good writes over there 👀

#why did i laugh for 20 yrs about the name #dinnertime 🛎#haikyuu!! x reader #kotaro bokuto x reader #bokuto #reader insert #haikyuu imagines #haikyu!!#haikyuu #my writing #my writes

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