#and the teacher explaining just made me more lost and cos its 1 year its wayy more intense and i feel like i habe less time to | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

miraculous-trinity-leo · 4 years ago

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Whacky Gotham, Goofy New York, and Chaotic Paris.

(part 1) (part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7)

Chapter 1: Genius Little Ladybug

★—–—–†–—–—★

It all started when Sabine Cheng and her parents moved from China to America, where she met a rich boy named Tony, they weren't the best of friends at first, but they would always get into crazy shenanigans because of Tony. Sabine always finding a way to get them out of it. After a while they were practically inseparable, they had each others backs, both in the good times, and the bad.

So when Tony lost both his mother and father in a tragic car accident, and had to take over his parents company, she was there to try and ease the pain. It helped a little, but the boy changed and blocked out many people, only keeping a select few close to him. His personality changed, and he started to act differently, it saddened Sabine, but she knew it was his way of coping with his lose.

She would oftentimes find him crying silently in his office. When Tony opened a branch in Paris France, he was paranoid something would go wrong when he wasn't there, so he had Sabine become a sort of co-CEO for the Paris branch. Over the many years of her being a sibling-in-everything-but-blood to Tony, her intelligence was much higher than everyone in the company, other than said boy.

She moved to Paris not long after, always keeping an eye on both the Paris branch and Tony ( because god knows what would happen if she didn't do so). She even met a baker named Tom Dupain. Eventually dating, and marrying him. Tony wasn't the most eager when he heard of Tom, but he accepted him as family (not because if he didn't Sabine would knock some sense into him). He practically exploded with excitement when he heard we would be an uncle a few years after Sabine's wedding.

Tony was there in the waiting room with Tom, when Sabine was having the child ( Tony denies not having a mini heart attack when the nurse came in). Both men looked at the beautiful child through the glass. Tony was put to tears when he read her name "Maria Dupain-Cheng" and was comforted by a teary Tom.

When Maria was 9 months old, her Uncle Tony came to spend time with her, and talk business with Sabine. None of them expected Maria to crawl her way into their conversation and say "Uncle Tony" in the sweetest most adorable laugh both adults had ever heard. Tony had a massive grin on his face, and gave Maria a big hug and lots of kisses saying " I knew i was your favorite hahaha, and you're only 9 months old. Sabine I think we got a little genius on our hands." Sabine was just as happy and told Tom to hurry and grab the camera.

"Come on say it one more time my dear Maria, show your papa who your favorite adult is" Tony said with a very wide grin.

Maria giggled at her uncle's happiness, clapping her hands. "Uncle Tony, Uncle Tony" Tom just smiled giving his baby girl a kiss and handing Tony 10 Euros.

Tony continued to visit his little genius niece over the years. Maria ended up getting the best education a kid could get, becuase his logic was " If she is a genius (which she is) then she is going to have the best education money can buy, for nothing is to much for my Little Genius Maria!" and with that she could officially be called the smartest kid in all of Paris... heck probably in all of Europe even! So when she gained a passion for fashion at 4, Tony didn't hesitate to get her, her very first (kid friendly) sewing set. By the time Maria was 5 she already knew how to speak and write in French, English, Spanish, Russian, and is learning Mandarin.

Maria had met Chloé when they were both 6, although they weren't really friends, they were polite to each other, which surprised a lot of the other kids their age. She had met Alix a few months later. She spent a lot of the time she wasn't studying with her friends, Alix would get in trouble with another kid on the playground, Chloé would criticise the other kid, and Maria would talk to Alix and then apologize to the other kid. Overall, they had a good dynamic going on, and they (as 7 year olds) promised to always have each others backs to the very end.

When Maria was 3½ months away from her 9th birthday, Tony was kidnapped. Maria just broke down, she wanted to help her Uncle, but she didn't know where he was or how she could help if she did. For three months Maria would only speak to Chloé and Alix (they were kinda shocked to find out she was related to THE Tony Stark). A few days before her birthday, Tony came to their home, with rolls of fabric, flowers, and 'I'm sorry cards'. Maria jumped into his arms crying asking what happened, and "If you're the smartest man on the Earth, why the Heck did it take you so long? How did you get out? Are any of your vital organs hurts? Do you need to go to the Hospital? An-"

"Hey slow down My Little Genius Maria, I'm ok. 1, They didn't really give me much to work with at first, and there is only so much a genius like myself can do with so little resources, and time before your Birthday. 2, I made an anime mecha suit and flew out guns a blazing. 3, Nothing I can't live without. and 4, No because I'm spending the week with you lot before a conference I have in about 10 days." He said while holding his small little genius in his arms.

Wiping away the tears she looked her Uncle in the eyes "Wait, you 'made an anime mecha suit and flew out guns a blazing?' How does it work? what's its power source? And why do you have a weird glowing device in your chest?!" He had a lot of explaining to do.

That week, in her words was 'The best week of her life.' She was really happy for the first time since the Tony-napping happened, although she was sad he had to go, she knew he was safe, and that she didn't have to worry (as much) now.

When Maria was 13, both Tony and Sabine decided to have her go to public school with her friends. After hearing this Maria called for a meeting, her two commanders (Alix and Chloé) came for the meeting, and had a talk on how she should go about her first day of public school, asking questions like 'How do non-homeschooled kids act? What are their personalities like? What interests do they have? Are some barbaric like Alix is sometimes? Will they like me? Am I allowed to talk to Chloé in or only out of class? What are the seating arrangements? Who do I sit next to?' the list goes on. They were all excited to finally all be in the same study environment, now all they had to do was wait for their first day.

•~��~—~—~—~—~—~•

The night before her first day Maria may or may not have slept well due to her excitement, she woke up a little later than she ever would have preferred, getting breakfast, her clothes, the 'greeting sweets' (as Alix called them) and heading out in a slight panic.

On her way out she noticed an elderly man with a cain crossing the street, and a car coming a little faster than what was allowed, she pulled the man out of the cars way without losing any of the sweets, after making sure the man was ok, she gave him a sweet before saying good day and heading over to school. She never noticed the man walking away without the use of his cain.

She still got to class on time, when her teacher walked in she greeted everyone in the class "Bonjour, je m'appelle Maria Dupain-Cheng, c'est un plaisir de vous rencontrer! (Hello, my name in Maria Dupain-Cheng, it is a pleasure to meet you!)" after the introductions she sat down in the empty seat next to Alix, both giving a fist bump, and a smile to Chloé, who looked away as if she didn't care (the girl had an image to keep after all). When class was over she handed out the sweets and went with her friends to lunch. During lunch, one of the other students from a different class was mocking one of their classmates that Maria remembered as Ivan, for having a crush on Mylène and not saying how he really feels to her. Ivan ran off into one of the locker rooms, and Maria decided to go and comfort him, she explained that she overheard what happened and that he should try and tell Mylène about his feelings, listing many different things he could do or say, and that he should stay positive.

Ivan thanked Maria afterwards and went off to write a song for Mylène. Ivan later showed Mylène the song he wrote for her, but was teased by other students near them, Ivan ran away not wanting to be embarrassed more.

Back in the classroom Alix and Maria are sitting and talking when everyone hears crashing and screams outside, the class looked out to see a giant rock thing destroying everything on its way to the school. The teachers sent the kids home in an attempt to keep them safe.

When Maria got home she noticed a small box with writing she didn't recognize, she carefully opened it, instantly releasing a glow of bright red-ish pink light.

"Greetings Maria Dupain-Cheng, I am Tikki, the Ladybug Kwami of creation and good Luck, it is a pleasure to meet you." Maria couldn't believe her eyes "Mon dieu..." was all she could say, before going full interrogation mode "You're a Kwami? What is that? How are you floating like that? How am I able to understand you? Do you have some sort of ability to communicate in any language?How did you fit in this box? w-"

"There is no time, Paris needs you! I can only explain the powers I grant and how to use them, so please listen carefully."

•~—~—~—~—~—~—~•

Soon Maria was running in a red suit with black spots and amor. She ended up facing the 'akuma' as Tikki called it in a stadium, meeting her partner (a blonde furry she decided) for the first time.

"Bonjour m'lady, so what's the plan to take this thing down?"

Without hesitation she explained her plan " The plan is for you to have your Cataclysm ready, I'll give you a signal when it's your-"

"Cataclysm!" The boy proceeded to use his ONE attack on a GOAL POST!

"I said to wait for a SIGNAL! Now you only have five minutes before you power-off."

"Oops" The blonde was really wasting her more useful braincells. After the boy was thrown out of the stadium, Maria was left to fend for herself, and she did really well, considering this was her first non(but sort of) official villain fight, up until she lost her footing and was knocked into the side of the stadium. The akuma was gone before she could get back, more and more people were turned to stone, but it showed just where Stoneheart was heading.

She arrived at the Eiffel Tower, where blonde was fighting stone people, he just managed to get away and actually listened to the plan this time.

They defeated Stoneheart, Maria gave her speech to the villain, and did a fist bump (though at this point Maria just wanted to get some sleep), when a reporter came to interview them.

"What are your names, and where did you come from?"

"My name's Chat Noir an-"

"Ladybug, and we're hear to protect Paris from Moth-Man, as much as we would love to give you a bit more details, we don't have much time at the moment" right on que their Miraculous' beeped signalling they had 2 minutes left " Stay safe, and positive, Bug-Out. "

•~—~—~—~—~—~—~•

"Well done Maria!"

"Thanks Tikki." and with that Maria went downstairs to get something to eat, when she saw her parents watching the news.

"Earlier today Paris gained a villain and two heroes: Ladybug, and Chat Noir. Many of our viewers submitted pictures and videos, but only one of Ladybug came out clear."

"Thank you Ladybug and Chat Noir for protecting us, bonne journée à Paris."

.................

"Maria you're taking self-defense classes starting tomorrow" Sabine spoke, though Maria didn't have any complaints, plus it'll help when fighting akumas so it's a win win.

"Yes maman."

•~~~~~later in Maria's room~~~~~•

"Ok, so you're basically goddess of creation personified into a cute little Ladybug creature?"

"Kwami, but yes."

"And you've existed since basically the Big Bang?"

"Correct."

"... how are you able to float like that? How are we able to talk without any ancient god language in the way? And what other kinds of um kwamis are there?"

"I float with magic. Yes their is a language only for the Kwami, but we've learned every other language in existence, so there would never be an issue with communication. And to your last question, there are many different kinds of Miraculi all over the world, some even across the universe, so I am unable to list every single one in existence, but there are just as many Miraculi out there as there are starts in the sky."

"Impressive... does that mean I could learn magic?"

"As a human you are limited to what you can do with magic, but you have a strong creation soul. So yes it is possible for you to learn basic magic, I can teach you some life magic to help you heal quicker if you get hurt outside the suit. You can also learn other types of basic magic based on what Miraculous you are most aligned to. Surprisingly you have a close affinity to most of my brothers and sisters that are here in Paris."

"Are they in the hands of other Miraculous users?"

"... aside from Chat Noir, only two: one belongs to the Guardian, and the other to Hawkmoth."

"What are their names?"

"...Wayzz is Kwami of Protection, and is the partner of the Guardian. The other is Nooroo Kwami of Transmission, Hawkmoths Kwami.

"Ok, so then I assume the 'Guardian' is who you were with until now, right?"

"That is correct."

"And how was I chosen exactly?"

"The Guardian chose you because he saw your kindness in action, and sensed your strong Creation Soul, he has only ever been wrong once, but I can tell you will be a great Ladybug, maybe even one of the few who achieved a higher sence of life."

"... I feel like you kind of described a Sage, also how would he have seen an act of kindness, I mean, I got my things, went out helped an older man with a cain, wait."Maria squinted her eyes at Tikki as if looking for something.

"The elderly man's the Guardian isn't he?"

"..."

"I get it, you don't have to tell me, it's all apart of the 'plot' like some show, I get it. Welp, good night Tikki, have to get up early tomorrow."

"Good night Maria." Tikki never messed up so badly before, then again she never had a user with such a strong Creation Soul before either... Maria is something special.

•~—~—~—~—~—~—~•

And Tikki was right, she excelled at Life Magic, learning a fair bit of healing, luck and slight plant manipulation and communication magic. Tikki wasn't sure if she should be proud of her Bug, or scared at her fast learning skills.

A few weeks passed and Maria was thankful for the self-defense classes, she even started doing her own training routine with Tikki guiding her. She didn't like that her partner was a flirt, it got distracting and almost got Chat killed a few times. She often wondered 'what the hell did I do in my past life to get a partner like this?'

•~—~—~—~—~—~—~•

Tony Stark was called by Sabine to meet her earlier than they had planned, she informed him that Paris now has a villain and two heroes.

"Ok, so what's the problem? We agreed to put Maria in self-defense classes so she would be safe... is it a boy?! Don't tell me it's a boy, she's to young to be dating!"

"It's not about a boy."

"Then what is this about?"

"She's Ladybug, *sigh* I swear she gets it from you Tony. She learned it from your dumb@ss, and it didn't help the need to protect people she loves when you got kidnapped. I need you to teach her how to be a good hero, good combat strategist, and to give her your support. She already has a tactical mind, I'm proud in a way that she shares your bravery."

"Ffffffffudge... ok, where is she?"

"Upstairs."

•~—~—~—~—~—~—~•

After a slightly awkward conversation Maria started to get even more training, and became a pretty much badass on the field, she incorporated the known fighting styles of: Black Widow (her favorite hero), Captain America, Deadpool (favorite hero to some degree), Daredevil, Wolverine, and some moves from famous villains like, Kraven The Hunter, Red Skull, Doctor Doom, Scorpion, Shocker, and Taskmaster ( her favorite villain). And she used ALL of those skills in battle, it was damn impressive to watch, and then Sabine had a talk with Tony.

〜(꒪꒳꒪)〜Bonus〜(꒪꒳꒪)〜

"Ok Tony wtf? I asked you to teach her how to fight for protection when she's out there, But you turned her into a complete badass, I mean none of the akumas have lasted more than 10 minutes with her! I want to hug you and kick your @ss at the same time."

" Sorry not sorry Sabine, but she is our Genius Little Ladybug after all."

•—–—–†–—–—•

First fic, wahoo (mario stile), hope you're all having an Absolutely wonderful day, stay safe, and stay positive, BUG-OUT!🐞💮🐞

〜(꒪꒳꒪)〜 Tag List 〜(꒪꒳꒪)〜

1st place★: @animegirlweeb ☕

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@lupagrimm

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fumingspice · 4 years ago

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All The Things She Said

Part: One Two Three

Requests are open and I don’t have a life so knock yourself out with them xo

Pairing: Lana Winters x Reader

lit the last update so that i cant put off seven wonders any longer. enjoy. mwah

Warnings: one (1) hot and sexy milf, implied smut

It made Lana Winters’ blood boil to the core seeing you, your friends and yourIt made Lana Winters’ blood boil to the core seeing you, your friends and your date discussing themes, co-ordinations, transport and the apartment you had all planned to book to stay overnight in. You could see it in her when she overheard Heather or Emmett making jokes that you were getting attention after your promposal.

You knew the idea of organised formal events gave her headaches unless she really wanted to go, so frankly you were pretty surprised when you found out she would be one of the teachers chaperoning the dance.

“You’re kidding me, right?” Emmett asked, smothing down a suit he was tryin on. Just a few more days to go until the prom. “I thought you said she broke it off.”

You unfolded your arms and straightened yourself up to read a few dress magazines which were sitting on a stool in the viewing room. “She did,” you replied, looking at different dresses on each page to try and get some sembelnce of what you wanted to wear.

Emmett looked fantastic in his suit. “Be honest, Y/N. Is she bothering you?”

You shook your head and chuckled. “Gosh, no. Not at all,” you replied. That was true after all, you were keeping up with the prom thing because you knew that it trained Lana’s attention back on you.

“If you say so,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “Did you hear that her title got changed? She must have finally signed the divorce papers.”

You were frozen slightly for a moment. The news that Lana had actually signed for divorce after having put it off for years made the entire thing seem real.

And on God you loved the feeling.

“Are you ready to go dress shopping?”

You nodded, a wide grin showing on your face. The three of you strode out to the dress shop. Heather already had her heart set on a specific dress that she had seen months ago. You, on the other hand, had barely given it a second thought.

Manny was insistent on purple, claiming that it was your perfect colour.

It was also the colour of Lana’s bedsheets the first time you’d visited her home.

So, it was decided. A beautiful, vibrant purple dress with a slit that went up your thigh. Strapless. Just how Lana liked it.

The prom was taking place out of town in a hotel built around the ruins of an old castle. Your legs and jaw jittered out of every feeling swirling around your body and mind. The sea of your peers socialising, dancing, not-so discreetly drinking in the lit-up ruins was magical. It was like the essence of whatever parties must have taken place between the old walls of the ballroom came back to life every so often.

You noticed Lana through the corner of your eye wearing a red dress. Her eyes softened as she took you in, noticeably getting distracted from her conversation with another teacher as she raised her eyebrows at you.

You glanced away, making sure not to show her any emotion whatsoever.

When you had walked far enough through the lobby, Lana took your hand and walked slightly faster. There was an empty first-aid suite in the hall, lined with small beds incase guests ever got too drunk or took ill. Weird thing to have.

You danced and sang, drank, and laughed with your friends, swinging from Manny’s arms and pulling him in close. You certainly didn’t just look like friends tonight and it was driving Lana insane.

After what had been hours of stolen glances, longing stares and not so accidental brushes of contact, you finally worked up your nerve to go talk to her when she went behind one of the far-off stone pillars for a cigarette.

“I knew you weren’t going to be able to hold off those all night,” you said. Lana turned in surprise.

“I didn’t think you were going to speak to me tonight,” she replied, taking a deep inhale. “You seemed more than happy with your date.”

You smirked at her ill-attempt to sound irritated.

“Can I bum a cigarette?” You asked. You leant against the pillar on your back so that she couldn’t look away from you again.

Lana chuckled as she passed to you. “I thought you had no interest in smoking.”

You coughed heavily. “I don’t,” you wheezed. “But you look hot as shit when you do it and I wanted another way to keep your attention on me.”

The brunette shook her head. “Your wearing your necklace,” she admired, pulling at her own.

You nodded. “I had to have some symbol of the one I love on me.” Your words left your mouth before you even had time to process it. You muttered a profanity under your breath. “I’m sorry, Lana. I wasn’t thinking-”

Lana didn’t skip a beat in taking your hand and guiding you back into the main building of the hotel without explaining herself.

Your confusion almost continued until Lana opened the door and pulled you into the room. Before you had time to open your mouth and ask what on Earth was going on, she pressed you against the door and kissed you.

With that, it was like a magnet being held back was allowed to swing to its attraction. You clutched your arms over her neck, arching your back so that your bodies met. Lana's lips eloped yours as her hands stayed trained on your back and waist.

How on Earth did your French teacher manage to be the one who touched you and set your soul on fire.

Lana's tongue met with yours, her teeth biting down on your lips then going for your jawline. Tiny blotches appeared under her bites and nips as she guided you towards one of the beds and sat on it with you between your legs.

You tried to keep up with her pace, but in reality, you had never experienced something like this before with Lana. By now you felt like you had kissed her a hundred thousand times, but nothing came quite close to the feeling of having the room set on fire and watching from within the flames.

You felt one of Lana's hands trailing from your belly, over your breasts and resting on your throat in a light squeeze. You broke free from her kiss, your lips visibly swollen. Lana's mouth trailed your neck and jawline.

"I thought we were casual," you breathed, her actions driving into your abdomen.

Lana chuckled breathily. "Oh, baby girl. There's nothing casual about you and I.”

Her answer was satisfied you enough to let her get back to the kissing. For now, at least. You were going to absolutely milk the life out of Lana for having ever suggested that you anything less, but right now you just wanted her to work off her damn jealousy.

“God, Lana,” you spoke between her fiery kisses. “If I knew this is how you were when you were jealous then I would’ve acted up weeks ago.”

Lana chuckled into your skin. “Jesus H. Christ, you have quite the mouth, Y/N.”

Her eyes, dark and glossed, collided with your stare. She had the most beautiful brown eyes you had ever seen, and you were almost willing to get lost in her warm gaze. Lana pulled your body onto the bed and lent over you.

Lana’s nails scratched lines up your thigh, navigating themselves under your dress to the point that your eyes snapped open and your breath hitched.

“You put a lot of thought into getting this dress, didn’t you?” she asked. “You told me that you hated slit dresses and that you wouldn’t wear one unless you absolutely had to.”

You smirked. “Clever girl,” you whispered, feeling her hand scratch further up your thigh. Her fingers had almost reached between your legs when Lana pulled back.

“You aren’t wearing underwear?” You nodded and got met with Lana’s melodic laugh. “Y/N, you really are something.”

You could hear the music pounding from outside. t.A.T.u’s “All The Things She Said” had always been a song that you had made a mental note about getting railed to, and right now that somewhat looked like your wish was about to come true.

You took Lana’s hand and pushed it closer to your centre, moaning when you felt her fingers cold against you.

Whispers of, “are you sure?” were followed by slow moves being made for the first time as your lover delicately slipped her fingers to where you were desperate for.

She was slow and gentle, drawing low moans from your like a confession. You would’ve been more than happy to lay under Lana and allow her to watch you be completely undone by the delicate touch of her fingers and mouth, and you knew for a fact that there was no way you would be joining you friends in the rented apartment tonight. Eventually, your own hand slid up Lana’s dress and between her thighs. Your joint moans sparked up a weird melody of romance.

“I love you too,” she whispered into your lips as your arm tightened around her when you had both finished.

“You know, if that’s what’s going to happen every time I say something like that then I’m going to have to say it more often.”

Even now, after the years. The loving, the learning, the fighting and the experience. Proving your sanity to your mom, who eventually approved of your relationship. It was always Lana, and it was always you.

taglist: @sarahp-stan @jumpoffabridge-t @sarahpaulsonsoftie @definitelynot-a-writer @bottom4delia @delias-bitch-craft @creepingwolfberry @thesapphictimelady @goodeday2u @that-fucking-error @saucy-sapphic

#ahs #ahs imagines #lana winters #lana winters x reader #cordelia goode #cordelia goode x reader #sarah paulson #sarah paulson x reader #billie dean howard #billie dean howard x reader #wilhemina venable #wilhemina venable x reader #sally mckenna #sally mckenna x reader #ahs murder house #ahs coven #ahs apocolaypse #i literally hate this but i was desperate to finish it im sorry #i swear i'll make a decent fic at some stage

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pl-panda · 4 years ago

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The vines that bind us - Chapter 2

Chapter 1 || Next

-----

Until a trip to Gotham came knocking on the front doors

“I can’t believe Lie-la of all people managed to somehow get us the trip to Gotham!” Mari moaned with a mixed expression on her face.

Adrien, who was walking next to them, showed absolute disgust. “Technically, It was my father and I that did the heavy lifting. She really wanted to go to the Wayne Gala and…”

“What Lie-la wants, Lie-la gets.” The three finished in unison before laughing a bit.

“Don’t worry Mari-bear. I can promise you that this no good liar won’t get to ruin your return home.” Chloe pulled her best friend closer. Best friend. Much better than a servant. Who would’ve thought? “And we can even try to find your mom on free Saturday.”

“Yeah…” The girl with black-blue hair didn’t seem particularly cheerful at that.

“Now I refuse to have you making sad faces throughout the whole flight. You cheer up right this moment and that’s an order!” The blonde commanded.

“Yes, Maman-bear.” Mari giggled.

The three of them finally arrived at the rest of the class, who were already gathered around madame Bustier. Of course, Lila was bragging about a million different things, but the three paid her no mind. Adrien did his best to hide behind the girls, cherishing the last moments of freedom. Finally, Mari and Chloe had to step forward for their tickets. The blonde got hers without any problem, but for Mari there turned out to be none.

“I’m so so sorry Marinette!” Lila said with fake regret. “I must have accidentally miscounted the number of students… It must’ve been when I was helping those poor orphans. You know, at…”

“Sure…” Mari didn’t even try to act as if she believed her for a moment. When Lila scowled, realizing that it didn’t affect the girl, she smiled. “I guess Chlo, Adrien and I will have to go with the contingency plan number 1.”

“What?!” The sausage-hair shouted.

“Of course my Daddy would not send us to travel like peasants. We have tickets for the first class.” Chloe supplied, looking smugly. “We did plan to maybe sit with the rest of the class. What a shame…”

“Yeah, My dad also didn’t want me to travel anything less, but I convinced him to let me stay with my friends. Guess he will get what he wanted in the end.” For his part, Adrien at least tried to look apologetic. He didn’t try hard at all, but it’s the thought that counts, right?

“But… But…” Lila tried to come up with something, likely a lie, to counter it. She didn’t have time as the trio handed their teacher the filled forms from their parents/guardians/Nathalie and proceeded to the plane. The tickets were personal, so she couldn’t do anything. The Italian girl came up with a lie to tell to the class, but it would do no good until they landed.

--------

“Did you see her face?” Plagg was rolling in the air while holding a giant roll of camembert.

“You were amazing my queen.” Pollen complimented.

“I still can’t believe your dad just… bought out the whole first class!” Marinette sighed.

“Phi! Daddy always gives me only the best. You should know it by now, Mari-bear.”

“Okay. Mari. You are the Gotham expert here. Any advice?” Adrien asked a bit more seriously.

“Gotham survival guide is probably unlike any other city.” She started. “The first rule is, believe it or not, run away if a person laughs too much or smiles too widely. The downside of living in the same city as the Joker is that most people don’t laugh in public. Secondly, never show that you are lost. Wherever you are, it’s exactly where you wanted to be. Finally, the third is to never flaunt your wealth.” She looked critically at Chloe before taking away her purse and lipstick in a golden case. “This,” She then pulled a mobile phone in a ridiculously sparkly case and popped it out of the cover, “this,” finally, she detached the golden chain on which the purse was supposed to be suspended and replaced it with a pre-prepared white one with copper clips, “and this must all go away.”

“Ridiculous! Utterly Ridiculous! Now it will totally clash with my comb!” Chloe complained.

“Oh no! How will you ever survive that?” Mari deadpanned. All three of them had another burst of laughter. After they calmed, Adrien started.

“Do you think it’s wrong that I want to bet which rule will Lila break first?”

“Ten macaroons she will say out-loud about money.” Mari threw.

“I raise, four tea parties she will start by asking for direction.” Chloe had a grin on her face

“Are you sure?” Adrien asked. When the blonde nodded, he shrugged. “Movie night and double popcorn bowl refill that she will do both in one conversation.”

“Hi, could you be so kind to point me to my exclusive hotel? You know, I’m staying at the penthouse of this luxurious new one.” Mari gave a quite good parody of Lilia.

“So to sum up, the pool is now ten Macaroons, Four Tea parties, and movie night with triple popcorn?” Chloe asked. When they nodded, she quickly noted it on her phone.

“Now, who wants a movie? I think they have the newest Thomas Astruck one.” Adrien pulled a disc from the container next to his seat.

“Good for me!/Go!” The girls said. Chloe, who was in the middle loaded it and the other two leaned onto her to watch together. The three were happy. Faintly in the background, there was knocking on the doors to their part, but nobody paid attention to very angry Liela and some classmates. For some reason, the doors were stuck and the blinder rolled down. Later if someone asked, Pollen would deny everything.

------------

When the plane landed, the class was practically kicked out. The team walked calmly down the stairs, all of them having smug expressions. Lila wanted to comment, but a glare from Mme. Bustier shut her up quickly. Mari and co. would later try to guess, what got the crew so pissed at their classmates.

Once everyone was accounted for, the class made its way to the customs to retrieve their luggage. There was a small problem with Mari’s travel bag as it was apparently misplaced to the flight to Timbuktu, but luckily her true suitcase, which had her things inside, arrived safely. She giggled at the thought of custom office in Timbuktu receiving a bag full of Adrien’s old socks that smelled camembert.

Overall, the airport went mostly unproblematic. At least until they found themselves cleared and gathered in one place while Mme Bustier left to check on their bus. One of the men, wearing a dark blue suit started to laugh almost maniacally. Everybody immediately cleared away from him, out of sheer self-preservation. Lila must’ve decided that a show of kindness was a good way to regain class’ good grace. She was confidently approaching the man before suddenly Mari grabbed her and pulled her away. The designer might’ve despised the liar, but Joker… you don’t mess with Joker.

Of course, Lila used the chance. She faked falling on the ground and started crying crocodile tears. “Marinette?! How can you be so heartless? I wanted *sniff* to check on the man and you trip me?” Lila sniffled, eyes watering with crocodile tears.

“I might have saved your life genius!” Mari snapped. Joker was a really touchy subject with her. “Does the world Killer Clown mean something?”

“Don’t invent things, you bully!” Alya shouted. That seemed to break the dam and at once the class started to say awful things to Mari. A year ago, it would hurt her. Half a year ago, she would be sad. Now? Now she pitied them. Chloe didn’t, and she was ready to jump to protect her best friend.

“Ridiculous! Do you like… share a single brain cell? What if that man was…” she didn’t get to finish because Mme. Bustier returned. The commotion immediately calmed. By now the man stopped laughing and returned to talking with his friends.

“The bus is waiting. Come on children. Follow me.”

----------------

Arriving at the hotel, the class was split into different rooms. Of course, Lila tried to lie her way into some privilege, but Mari was too dead inside to care. The Jet Lag was killing her. At least she got some sleep on the plane. From the rumors she heard from the class, they didn’t because of Lila’s drama with the staff.

“Now I want you all to be ready here at eight a.m. sharp. A Wayne Enterprises representative will come here to explain the details of internships.” Mme. Bustier instructed them. This, for some reason, caused outrage in students.

“What do you mean internships?!”

“Wayne Enterprises?”

“Shouldn’t we be preparing to go to Gotham Academy or something?”

The terrible trio in the back had trouble holding back laugher. Adrien warned the girls about what his father planned, so they could all prepare. Gabriel Agreste, devious as he is, decided to punish Lila and teach Adrien something about running a company at the same time and using his connections to put the class up for an internship at WE. He did send the liar all the details, but she must have skimmed over the corporate jargon because the class was fed overexaggerated stories about what they would and wouldn’t do during two months trip.

Most parents were more than happy to send their children away from Paris for two months, especially since the Internship was free and the employment rate after it was quite high. WE kept quite a lot of the interns, if only out of habit. But perhaps it was mostly because the class has become a go-to place for the Akuma. Only Mr. Pidgeon and perhaps Gigantitan were akumatized more often. Mari actually picked up to cleansing their class weekly through a ritual she learned, otherwise there would be enough residual dark energy to power a demon portal. Not something one would want in the middle of a classroom.

“I was told you’ve all read the brochure provided and Lila summarised it for you.”

“I did!” The sausage hair defended. “Marinette must have told them some imaginary story about the trip!”

Immediately, several other people started to nod and confirm this. Chloe actually started to walk toward the liar almost red, but Mari grabbed the back of her blazer and held her in place. All the while she had a completely deadpan expression like it was normal for her (it was).

Mme. Bustier sighed. “Well, In that case, I will…”

“Excuse me, but shouldn’t we be going to sleep today already? We don’t want to be late tomorrow.” Adrien asked with an innocent expression, but there was some satisfaction hidden there too.

“Well… um… I…”

“We will be going then.” Chloe grabbed the key and led Mari to their room. Calline didn’t even question it. She wanted a pay raise after this.

-----------

The next morning, Mari was woken by a frantic Chloe

“Mari-bear! It’s already late! You don’t want to be late for your first day of Internship girl! It would be utterly Ridiculous!”

At first, the girl mumbled something, but once she finally processed everything she leaped out of her bed and started getting ready in record time. She was brushing her teeth, packing her purse, and tossing clothes at her best friend all at once. Once she had everything, she turned to see Chloe on the ground tied with a gray blazer. Mari just burst out laughing.

“How…”

“Ridiculous!” Chloe shook her head. “I demand you untie me this instant! We don’t have time for this!”

Once they dressed and did their hair, both girls were ready. Chloe now had a black button-down shirt, deep red blazer, and a matching pencil skirt. Mari also made her wear smart black stilettos (instead of her usual that were slightly more extravagant). The look was completed by a tablet in leather flip-over cover. Mari had a similar outfit, except her shirt was white and the suit was in dark blue. She opted for flat shoes to spare the embarrassment that was Marigold on heels.

“Ready to rock Gotham City?”

“Like you have to ask.” Mari smiled. There was something about the city of crime that made her feel safe and open up more. Maybe being on home turf gave her the much-needed confidence boost.

When Chloe tried to open the doors, she found them stuck. She was about to go on a rant about poor quality when Mari casually grabbed the doorknob and twisted it. There was a faint creaking sound as the mechanism gave.

“Um…”

“It must’ve been old,” Chloe said with a devious grin. “Nothing happened. Don’t you worry! I will deal with it.”

---------------

When the doors to the elevator opened and two girls strode into the lobby, their class was already pushing toward the exit. Adrien looked very much uncomfortable with Lila hanging off his arm, literally sinking her claws into him. He mouthed them a muted ‘later’. Alya stared at the girls with loathing.

“Ah, you are here.” Mme. Bustier spoke. “Lila said…”

“Whatever.” Chloe dismissed their teacher. “Aren’t we in rush?” The blonde practically seethed the last word.

“Yes, good to see that someone is responsible.” The teacher gave Mari a pointed look. Apparently, she still didn’t get over the fact that she resigned from the class rep position.

“But…”

“Drop it. She is not worth it.” Chloe whispered. “Daddy will take care of that once we are done.”

Mari just nodded. She knew Chloe was preparing a lawsuit against the school, but their hands were tied until they graduated or Damocles could try and undermine it. Both girls knew that no adult would help them with the lawsuit beyond Chloe’s father signing whatever dotted line she asked him to. That man was more whipped than a fresh can of whipped cream.

The ride to the WE was short and uneventful. Girls took up to gossiping in English, effectively limiting any eavesdropping. Mari spent most of the time tearing down the outfits of all the villains. She started with Riddler, more as a joke than actual rant, but then she somehow got onto this new guy Anarky. From there, she just kept on, smoothly sailing from one to the next. Even her mom got some shots. Mari still couldn’t stand how skimpy it was. Her rant carried over when they exited the bus and entered the WE. Security led them to a conference room, where they were told to take seats.

Mari guessed that it wouldn’t be Lila if she didn’t immediately start sputtering lies about how well she knew the building already because of her Damiboo giving her private tours (All while clutching Adrien like a leech). She didn’t have enough ducks left to give to try to expose Lila about several facts. Such as that Damian Wayne definitely wasn’t living with Bruce when he was five. Any Gothamite could tell her that. Bored, she returned to her rant.

She was nearing the end of the list and was very much engaged in complimenting Harley Queen for her recent change in wardrobe. She still considered it a disaster, but at least it was somehow human.

“Ekhm…” A voice broke her out of the rant. “Good morning. My name is Richard Grayson. You are the french class chosen for the internship program, correct?” When people nodded, he continued. Idly, Mari noted that Alya and Lila stiffened and suddenly stopped talking at all. “We reviewed the individual profiles and appointed each of you a mentor that will help you settle into your roles. As I read the names, please come forward so I can update your badges. Do carry them on your person all the time or we will have to take you to our human cloning facility.”

People stared at him.

“Okaaay… That’s that about jokes…” He sighed. “The rules will be explained by individual departments. Now, who’s up for a tour?”

People started to cheer at that and Dick smiled. Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad?

-----------------

It was that bad. Even worse. He knew from the background check that the class was both insanely talented… and borderline criminal. It was like someone de-aged the Rogues and put them in one class. The report called them Akuma class, which (if google is to be believed) meant demons. He questioned how they got accepted into the internship.

They only toured two floors when Dick wanted to tear half of them to shreds. He noted immediately that they were bullying the girl with black (slightly blue? Maybe it was dyed?) hair. What surprised him was that the teacher didn’t react. If he was to be honest, the girl and her friend slightly irritated him too. They kept talking and seemed to ignore him. It was not because they kept tearing down each and every bats’ fashion choices. Definitely not that. When they brought up Discowing he had enough.

“Ekhm. Excuse me, girls,” he stared at them. Both immediately stopped talking and looked at him. “Could you pay attention? I wouldn’t want any of you to waste your internship lost on our maze-testing floor.”

“There is no maze-testing floor in this building.” The blonde pointed out.

“And besides, we memorized all you’ve said.”

“Care to recall?” He heard several people groan at his pun.

“The first floor is most representative, where guests are welcome and low-level meetings happen. There is a separate kitchen for employers there that is always fresh on fruits. Don’t use the coffee machine there as it was only patched up and there is a high chance it will set itself on fire again. The…”

“Fine. You’re good. Still, I don’t appreciate the chatter.”

“They are always trouble!” A girl in bright pink colors shouted.

“Yeah! Why do you have to ruin this trip for Lila!?”

“You’re just jealous of her boyfriend!”

More voices like this came from the crowd of kids. Dick started to feel bad that he singled the girls out. It definitely gave the class a reason to gang up on them. And the teacher still did nothing! He sighed. What did HR think when they accepted them. He would have to look into it later.

--------------

Mari decided that she didn’t like Dick. Everyone in their class kept talking, but for some reason, he singled them out. For the rest of the trip, she made sure to pay as much attention as she could. There was this silent determination on her face. Chloe wisely also kept silent.

After the trip class was led back to the conference room where another employer handed out the identificators and folders containing their assignments.

“Keep the IDs on you at all times. As opposed to the ones you received, this won’t expire and are synched with your jobs, so you will have access to anything you might need. They are also mandatory to receive lunch in our canteen. When you get acquainted with your tasks, you can go to the level specified at the end of sheet one. Your mentor will meet you there.” With that, he left. Dick really needed to do some in-depth research on this class. Something kept icking his detective sense.

“Well, I’m going to the law department. Apparently whoever made the assignments knew my well.” Chloe bragged to her friend after opening the folder.

Timidly, Mari also opened her folder. She skimmed over what was inside and groaned. “Apparently, I’m interning as personal assistant to one Tim Drake.”

“They actually assigned you to the sleep-deprived coffee addict?” Chloe asked in disbelief.

“You know him?” She asked in surprise

“He and his brother ruined my daddy’s parties two years ago. They got into an argument that ended up with them wrestling over a cake. It took me weeks to get the cake out of my hair! Weeks!” The blonde summarized.

“oh…” Mari tried to hold back the giggles.

“Don’t laugh! It’s a serious matter! Do you have any idea how much work it takes to have such a perfect hair?!”

“Of course… cakehead.” The girl couldn’t stop herself.

“Ugh, you… you… plant leg.” Chloe said.

“Really?” Mari raised an eyebrow. “That’s the best you can come with?”

“Well, I usually have better things to do than thinking about good insults.” Still, Chloe hugged her best friend. “Be careful. I wouldn’t put it past The Liar to try and sabotage you somehow.”

“I’ll be careful. Wish me luck.”

-----

The elevator took Mari all the way to the highest floor. When the doors opened, she stepped int a large room with one desk. As soon as the doors closed, the woman who was standing there rushed toward her. The girl tensed for a moment but she reminded herself that there is no real threat.

“Oh finally! I was asking them to hire someone else for months!” She had a messed bun of red hair on her head and looked like she didn’t sleep in a week.

“But… I’m just an intern madame!” Mari tried to explain.

“An intern?” The woman paused her packing and stared at the girl with wide eyes.

“Um… Madame Sarah Jackson?”

“Yes. An intern…” She said in a disappointed voice to herself. “Ah! That’s no problem at all!” She started to tap on her Waynetech Tablet and after a moment she smiled. “There! You’re hired!”

“Wha…?!” Mari shouted, but was interrupted when Sarah pushed the tablet into her hand, followed by a large box full of documents and a small mug with a coffee bean pointing a gun at the reader and words ‘Your Coffee or your life!’.

“They are your problem now! Everything you need is in the box. I left detail about ongoing stuff and whatever you might need. Don’t call. I’m outta here!” She shouted before grabbing her personal belonging and leaping into the elevator.

“But…! But…!?” Mari shouted after the closing doors. She could hear a cheerful shout as the elevator left the level.

--------------------------------------

#maribat #miraculous ladybug #maribat au #miraculous lb #batman #dc #mlb x dc #Marigold AU #Mother!Ivy

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enkelimagnus · 4 years ago

Text

Cookbook

Bucky Barnes Gen, 1694 words, rated T for Hydra shit

Jewish Bucky Barnes, pre TFATWS, post Endgame

Bucky walks home from a long day of paperwork. On his path is a garage sale and a tired woman.

TW: cigarettes, smoking

Read on AO3

Part 2 of Making a Home - the Jewish Bucky series, Part 1 here, Part 2 here

----------------

Bucky smokes on the way home from work.

Everything that brought some sort of pleasure was a currency back in his day. That was why they sent cigarettes to the front. It was easy to make them necessary, when you were under constant fire and needed something to keep you going. Anything that got you out of that hell was traded for, fought for. Some days, it was like nothing mattered more than the next ration shipment and its load of cigarettes, pin-up magazines and six-pence books.

In truth, he doesn’t have the habit he used to have. Hydra wouldn’t have that. Upside of brainwashing, he guesses. And it’s not like it burns the same way anymore. That’s the serum for you.

Still, sometimes, he pulls a cigarette out of its gore-decorated cardboard box, lights it and pretends it has the same effect on him now than it did back in muddy camps or candle-lit living rooms.

The day has been long. No raids, but he’d been stuck behind a desk doing fucking paperwork for the last two weeks-worth of missions. His reports are tired and concise, he hates doing them and he’s pretty sure it’s obvious to anyone who reads what he writes.

He wishes he could smoke then , at that stupid cramped desk, to make the endless signing and reading and writing easier, but you’re not allowed to smoke inside anymore. So he finds himself doodling on other pieces of paper when his mind drifts. His focus is not the best outside of missions.

He used to love writing shit. Steve had his drawings and Bucky had his words, in between everything else. They wrote stories on notes they passed in class in high school. When it got taken by the teacher, no one could understand what they were talking about. He used to make up worlds and think of men walking in space, and he wishes he could tell his 14-year-old self that there are people in the sky, and that he’ll meet them one day. That he’ll see aliens, real ones, and punch them in the face.

He would tell him all the good things about the universe, all the people in it, all about partners in crime and arms like Dugan or Morito or Jones, or Sam or Natasha, how he not only met Howard Stark but was his comrade, how Stark knew him as “Sergeant Barnes” or “Sarge”.

He’d tell him all the good, and none of the bad, none of how his dad would die in two years and he’d be leading the family in shabbos prayers at 16, none of how the people in the world could be cruel for the sake of their own fun, none of how Howard Stark said his name in shock before he punched in his skull with the metal fist that was now his left hand.

Those conversations with his younger self -- barely a man, already smart-mouthed and charming and cocky in the way teenagers are and in the way Bucky had tried to remain for as long as he could until the war drained it out of him -- evaporate in the smoke, in the cold Brooklyn air.

He doesn’t love writing anymore. His mind can’t create the worlds it used to make. He thinks in three languages on a good day, only knows how to write one of those, so whenever he tries, something’s always missing. On a bad day, he can barely string along one sentence, let alone tell a story.

And he’s got no one to tell them to, anyway.

It’s 7pm and the streets are dark and icy. In the last few weeks, the gloves he always wears to hide his left hand have not been an incongruous fashion statement.

It’s January now. There was snow last week, a soft blanket that made him fucking cry out of nowhere when he saw it through the window. It was gone soon, but it was there. And for once, it didn’t fall on Siberia. It fell on Brooklyn again. He never would have thought he’d seen snow on Brooklyn again.

That kind of shit pulls memories out of him like nothing else, and he’s thankful for them. They make it easier and harder at the same time.

He told Doctor Raynor about the shul that’s now a church, about how it was the worst pain he’d felt since he’d last been wiped. How that’s another reason why he doesn’t want to walk into Becky’s retirement home and see her as she is now. The pain of time lost is the worst one to bear.

That, and he’s pretty sure she knows what he’s done. His name and photo have been blasted on every news channel and every social media website after the UN bombing. There’s no way she wouldn’t recognize him, when he looks so similar to the brother she lost.

He has no desire to face his Becky now that he’s a murderer and a weapon of mass destruction, Hydra brainwashing or not. You don’t do that to your little sister.

Besides, she doesn’t need him. She’s got kids and grandkids and great-grandkids, and nephews and nieces and every sort of relative you can imagine except for parents and siblings. She’s taken care of, they visit her often, she doesn’t need the grief he’d bring. He can’t be selfish.

He stops to stab the butt of the cigarette into a wall but his eyes catch something else.

In the cold evening, there’s a few lights set up on the sidewalk, over some makeshift tables threatening to crumble over all the items on it. Everyday items mostly, kitchen stuff, books and a clock and some candlesticks.

At first glance, all of the pricier stuff has been sold already, and there’s a tired-looking middle-aged woman sitting on the stairs of the house behind the tables. She has a look on her face, heavy with emotions muddled so well they’re impossible to tell apart.

“Buy what you want,” she says. Her voice doesn’t carry. He’s pretty sure he wouldn’t have heard more than a mumble if his hearing wasn’t enhanced. “Pay what you want.”

How many times has she said that today?

He looks down at the items for a moment, the cheap metal candlesticks, some old plates decorated with blue flowers, a still plastic-wrapped, never used, frankly hideous challah cover, and a pile of various books. Most in English, a couple in what he assumes to be Polish, some in Yiddish. His eyes fall on one in particular, a cookbook. It looks old.

“Can I touch?” He asks, pointing at the cookbook.

The woman nods. “Yeah. Nothing very modern in there. Bubbe barely even made this anymore,” she explains. Ah. A bubbe passed and the stuff they can’t keep, they’re selling.

The cookbook’s unremarkable. It’s been used, obviously, there are stains of chocolate-covered fingerprints on some of the dessert pages as he flips through. It seems to be half in English and half in Yiddish. He reaches the page where the publication date would be. He doesn’t even know why he’s checking.

Entire Contents Copyrighted 1949 The B. Manischewitz Co. Printed in the U.S.A.

1949. It’s close enough. Really close enough.

“How much do you want?” He looks up at the mourner.

“I told ya, it’s how much you’re willing to give.”

Bucky makes an annoyed sound at the back of his throat. He rephrases the question. “How much do you want me to give?”

The woman makes eye contact again. She looks deeply surprised by his question. Hesitant, too. She has no idea what to reply.

He fishes his wallet out of his pocket, starts going through the cash he has. He barely uses his credit card. Every month, when he gets his money from the army, he immediately withdraws most of it. It’s safer that way, and he knows how much he’s spending.

He counts out 180 dollars. It feels like a ridiculous amount for a cookbook, but the woman’s selling her bubbe’s shit like this, she’s still out at 7pm in January in Brooklyn and Bucky doesn’t have a lot of expenses anyway. He doesn’t really have expensive taste. 18’s a good number too, at least, it used to be, in his day.

“Peace be upon her,” He says quietly, when the woman opens her mouth at the bills he places in her hand. “It’s getting cold, you should go back inside,” he adds, quiet and coaxing, the tone he used to use when the neighbor’s son, Aaron, had a tantrum and sat on the stairs all evening, pretending to be mad at his parents.

Did he know the bubbe in question? Was she one of the kids from Hebrew school? It’s a little too far from his old neighborhood to be sure. He’s not going to ask.

The woman sighs a little, putting the money in her pocket when she realizes he’s not going to take any of it back.

He eyes the tables for a moment. “You need help packing up?”

She hesitates. He gets it, he’s a weird stranger who just bought an old cookbook for 180 dollars, it’s nighttime… He can’t tell her he’s not a serial killer, because he is one, and there’s going to be a moment where she remembers where she’s seen his face before. There usually is.

He holds his hands up, seemingly showing he’s harmless. It’s hilarious, really, because he’s never harmless. But contrary to Steve, he’s not massive. He’s more on the lean side of things, especially with his new arm.

“No pressure.”

She hesitates still, but he sees the exhaustion working away at her until she nods. The cookbook is put to the side and he helps her pack up the tables and the remaining things. He is careful not to display too much strength, and he’s also careful to keep his face in a neutral but positive sort of mask. His resting expression is meaner than needed.

He comes home much later than he thought he would, but he’s got a cookbook and some ideas of how to occupy his amnesia-riddled nights.

#jewish bucky series #bucky barnes #marvel #fic #mine

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randomguywithwords · 4 years ago

Text

As The Dust Settles: Chapter 18 (Geten X Dabi Slowburn)

Chapter 18: Reclamation

Previous Chapters: 17, 16, 15, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

––––––––

Recap From Chapter 17:

“Why’s it seem like you trust me all of a sudden?” Dabi had to ask.

After a moment of silence, Geten mumbled, “I think...I think I just do. You’re not the worst.”

That’s a first.

“So why’d you bury her?”

“Because…” She looked at her hands. “They didn’t deserve it. It’s weird, isn’t it? I got beat up so much by them, but I’m still respecting her.”

“No, it’s not weird. It means…” Dabi considered his next few words. “It means your heart isn’t cold.”

–––––––

“You’re not done here? I thought your job was to dispose of her.” Geten asked as she followed Dabi back to the building where they’d fought.

“Just checking out some things. You can leave if you want,” Dabi said as he turned and walked towards the warehouse.

He expected her to whizz away on her ice, but he heard footsteps behind. He turned back to see her following with her head down.

“What…Ugh. Fine.” He pocketed his hands.

“It’s not like I can leave, I don’t have any more ice, and I can’t walk all the way back or ride the bike,” Geten defended.

The two walked into the warehouse they fought Takame in, which was easy to identify with its shattered walls and charred floor.

Dabi mindlessly ran his hand over the engraved text of “Bushido Enterprises”. He’d seen this place before. Well, not this particular factory, but it seemed this company duplicated their structures down to the blueprint across the country, perhaps with the help of one or more quirks.

He forgot what they were in the business of. Was it weaponry? Construction materials? Or perhaps that innocent building, a twin to this one, was the unfortunate venue chosen for gangs to meet.

He winded through the narrow passageways, with Geten trailing him. How had he known where he was going, as he evaded Takame? The memory had returned to him last night and lingered till now. He retraced his steps, and found himself in a massive clearing, in the centre of the building.

Dabi exhaled as flashes of that night struck his mind like lightning. Fire. Screams. A roar above it all. Yet as quickly as they came, they dissipated, leaving only frustration.

“What are you looking at?” Geten said.

“Not sure,” Dabi uttered. He pressed his hands into his skull, trying to constrict his head into squeezing those lost thoughts out. A chair in the centre, blinded by a spotlight, and the last spark of memory fizzled out. His head snapped up to the catwalk above, but there was no spotlight.

“Trying to remember something?”

He looked at her with his mouth hanging, before he regained his composure. “Maybe,” he admitted. “How would you know?”

“I’ve...done something similar.” She kicked a pebble across the room with her hands in her pocket. “I looked like that when I was frustrated.”

“Your name?” He hadn’t forgotten.

She nodded after a pause. “I guess you’re trying to remember your old name too?”

Noting the blank look on his face, she scoffed. “Come on, don’t think I didn’t know Dabi wasn’t your birth name when we met.”

He waved it off. “I know my name. I’ve abandoned it. And don’t ask me what it is.” He added with a spark of assertiveness.

“Wasn’t planning to, you have your own secrets, I have mine…” She murmured, “Let’s leave it at that.”

Dabi nodded, feeling a twitch of guilt. He sat against one of the crates and looked up at her.

“What about yesterday? Care to tell me now it’s all over?” His eyes met hers in spite of her wearing her hood.

She sighed and sat down opposite him. For a few moments, it was only the two of them suspended in silence. Rays of sunlight permeated through the windows, casting them in a warm glow. Dabi was never one for daytime, with its people and noise, but it was strangely calming.

“Shigaraki talked to me before the meeting. You wouldn’t know, you were gorging on ramen.” She sounded mildly amused.

“I was hungry after training. Sue me.”

“He didn’t say much, but I think he was implying that he was testing me.”

“He’s never went to school, don’t worry, he’d be a shit teacher.”

“I meant he was testing my loyalty.”

“I mean, if slicing up your own people ain’t loyal, I don’t know what is,” Dabi quipped.

She looked up with widened eyes, like a gambler who just realised they had lost. “You know?”

“Some rumours and suspicions. So it’s true.”

“I’m not proud of it...now,” She spoke, and sounded truthful.

“Keep going.” Dabi waved dismissively.

“I was paranoid that the whole assignment was set up by Shigaraki, and that you were here to spy for Shigaraki.”

Dabi barked out a laugh. “Not in a million years.”

“Well, it sure made me suspicious. I kept thinking you had orders to kill me if I made the wrong move. My loyalty was in question, wasn’t it?”

His expression sombered. Well, that explains a lot. “I kept wondering why you were being so stubborn about continuing. If the others or Shigaraki found out you failed the assignment, it wouldn’t look good for you either.”

She nodded rigidly, like a robot toy with rusty joints. Dabi exhaled. So she was going into Tokugawa with that much baggage...while I was whistling and kicking back against leather chairs.

Yet he wasn’t punished, while she took all of Takame’s hits and ended up in this state. He clenched his fists, feeling a hydra of emotions emerge – anger, shame, guilt, twisting and churning, all inside him.

“I was in a place like this before, sometime in my past,” He said, which drew her eyes to meet his, with evident intrigue towards the spontaneous sharing. “It’s why I wanted to come here. To look around, see if I remember anything.”

The words burst from his mouth. His brain sent alarm signals, asking what the hell he was doing. Sharing something, he responded. Maybe sharing something about himself would make her hate him less. Because he sure as hell would hate her if he had to take a beating as bad as the one she took, just to buy time to save her.

“You want to reclaim your past? Why?”

He was still staring at her, and it was that question, Why, and her white hair, that clicked in his head.

He remembered someone else he held close with long white hair like hers. His heart clenched. Is that why I’m doing this?

“Probably time I did so.” He got to his feet and offered a hand. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

“Don’t you want more time?” She took it, wincing a little.

“Yeah, but you need to rest. I think I’m done here anyway.”

The two exited the warehouse towards the bike, and as Dabi surveyed the factory for the last time, something bit at him. He forgot something, but what was it?

––––––

“I’ll...make sure you don’t get killed. By Shigaraki, or, whoever,” Dabi said, hoping he was loud enough to be heard with the wind whooshing past on the motorcycle. Because he did not want to repeat that.

He felt her arms tighten slightly against his torso. “Thanks,” She murmured.

Silence folded onto them once again.

––––––

“I’m back.” Dabi shut the door behind to see Shigaraki on a chair, with multiple metallic surgical devices operating on his open arm, and that was a light way of describing it.

Such was Shigaraki’s desire, anyway, as he had shared a while back with just the League. It was one hell of an ambition, one Dabi could get behind, but definitely not to the extent of sitting in that rusty chair of the Doc.

Picking between looking at his leader in the eye and beholding the grisly tendons and bones that looked more at home at a slaughterhouse, it was a difficult choice indeed, but Dabi had to settle for eye contact.

“That took a while,” Shigaraki stated, but didn’t say anything further. Was he expecting Dabi to explain himself, or was that his indifference?

“I’ve got some questions about the mission. But first, what the hell are you doing?”

“Hmm?” Shigaraki inspected a bit of flesh that landed on his chest, apparently unconcerned with the discontinued surgery from the doctor that had left the room a while ago. “Oh, just learning some biology. Did you know if you tear open someone’s left arm like this, it hurts like shit?”

“Could have fooled me.” Dabi noted Shigaraki’s bored countenance.

“Yeah, well, can we get to your questions about the missions? I’m getting tired entertaining guests.”

“Why’d you pick me and Apocrypha?”

“Thought it would be good for both of you. Get some fresh air away from the city, y’know, let you two hook up if you wanted to…”

Dabi’s brow twitched. “And your other reason?”

“Seeing if she’s good enough to serve as a lieutenant. I never got to hear your take, by the way, seeing as you left the meeting midway to finish your chores.”

“She did fine.” More than fine. “No reason to demote her or anything.”

“Hm.” Shigaraki sounded unimpressed. “If you say so. She’s your co-leader in the regiment.”

And you said you wouldn’t give a shit about what went on within the regiment, as long as it worked...There was probably some truth to that, the only exception being Shigaraki’s suspicion of Geten’s loyalties given her past. If he held true to his word now, Shigaraki would lay off her back for the time being now that that Takame fiasco was over.

“Yeah, she’s a bit annoying, but otherwise she’s decent.”

“Mmhmm…” Shigaraki went back to tracing a finger on his exposed bone. “Well, any more questions?”

“Mesa.” Dabi trained his eyes onto him to catch any signs of recognition. Catch them off-guard with information they don’t expect you to have, and you’ll see if they’re hiding something.

“S’cuse me?” Shigaraki looked more confused than annoyed. Nothing. Guess it wasn’t him. That leaves a couple more people.

“I sneezed, sorry. I got nothing else,” Dabi deadpanned.

“Well, bless you, and GTFO,” Shigaraki snarked.

“Thanks. Good luck on your surgery.” Dabi turned to leave with a lazy wave.

“Oh yeah, good job on the assignment, by the way,” Shigaraki said, as Dabi ambled to the door. “Feel free to resume your own business, with Hawks or whoever. Just keep him in check. If he pries too much, I’ll have to pluck him out.”

“So you don’t trust him either?”

“I’d be disappointed if you ever did.”

Dabi gave a short laugh as he held the doorhandle. At least they were on the same page about something. “Don’t worry. I’ll drag him to this doorstep if need be.”

If there was a reply from Shigaraki, it was lost to the echo in the chamber.

–––––

Hope you liked it. If you’re still into this story, thanks for sticking through my shitty upload schedule. I’m getting tired of apologising for delays. At this point it’s safer to assume I’m on hiatus until my exams are over. Might post things. Might not.

#bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction #mha #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #dabi x geten #geten x dabi #dabiten #getenxdabi #bnha geten #mha geten #bnha dabi #mha dabi

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a-dauntless-daffodil · 5 years ago

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Spop magic and classifications and stuff but honestly the main point of this is the thing with Glimmer at the end

also this is mainly based on season 1 since i can’t really watch s2

Etheria’s got, as far as I can tell, two basic kinds of people who can do magic in some form or another

There’s the Sorceresses like Glimmer’s dad and aunt who’s magic we haven’t really seen much in action yet, but who I’ll have some BIG guesses for anyways, and then there’s the Princesses like Queen Angella and Mermista/Perfuma/Frosta

And there’s also Razz, but I lowkey get the feeling Razz is a category unto herself

- Let’s start with Sorceresses

Shadow Weaver counts as a Still A Sorceress since she’s using a Rune Stone but doesn’t seem to have a normal connection to it, has trouble forcing the connection sometimes, needs her nifty red mask control gem thingy to access it, and could probably pick someone else to draw power from if she had to. She’s just draining it like a giant magical mosquito, fitting since she too is annoying as hell

Castaspella is a Sorceress who currently leads Mystacor, like both Light Spinner and Micah also used to do, but the way the hall of former leaders is set up-

(non-linear I presume and more of a memorial to the fallen/dead Greats)

[I like to headcanon Micah installed Light Spinner’s statue after he became a leader, in monument to the good that she used to be, and Castaspella later wrecked it sometime after he was killed]

-and the little I’ve heard of Light Spinner’s fall flashback in s2 makes me think Mystacor is ruled more by a council than by one single person, even though the council might have an unofficial leader who most of them trust and defer to. And this council is probably made up of masters of magic or the equivalent of teachers- People so good at magic and guiding others in learning how to use it and be responsible with it that they are given a say in how Mystacor as a whole is run

This would mean there’s another class of magic user, Sorceresses lite, that aren’t at that level yet and haven’t been accredited as experienced enough to lead/teacher others. They’re main job is to keep studying magic until they are, OR leave Mystacor and start their own lives once they’ve learned enough to not cause mayhem with their powers

THIS would ALSO mean there are people who have magic or the potential to use magic but who haven’t yet or choose not to be trained as a sorceress. Once again going off my very limited s2 info, I’d guess Adora fitted into this slot before becoming She-Ra, and it was her potential for magic that Shadow Weaver was drawn to. Maybe she was hoping to steal it or could tell it was linked to a Rune Stone or some other power she’d never felt before. Maybe she just likes collecting powerful people and brainwashing them. Whatever

And then there’s Razz. Razz might be magic. Razz might be friends with a magical broomstick that comes to her hand when she beckons. Razz has lived longer than the immortal queen of Bright Moon, long enough to know the previous She-Ra was disappeared/died over a thousand years ago. Razz is a beautiful mystery and I hope she’s stays that way

- So that’s the sorceresses, but what about Princesses?

The classic Etherian Princess has a natural connection to one Rune Stone that seems to be passed down genetically from parent to child. The Rune Stone on a global scale is important to keep Ehteira the planet alive and habitable, and the Princess’s main job is to correctly maintain, use, and protect it, which on a local scale means the area near the Rune Stone would ALSO be protected. This makes for pockets of safety and stability that people would over time flock to and populate, and the Princess’s power to protect that land would then make them the protector of the people now living there to, and thus Princesses as rulers comes to be

She-Ra is a Princess but can’t be a ruler since her whole point seems to be acting as Etheria’s referee/IT troubleshooter for all things Rune Stone related. She needs to stay impartial and has to be able to move around freely, so her Rune Stone is small and portable and has some powers but gets its real importance from how it can boost and heal the other bigger Rune Stones

On the other hand, Entrapta is a princess, a sovereign ruler, without a Rune Stone and frankly I can’t imagine what kind of Rune Stone her family would have anyway. Maybe one linked to earth and metal or magnetic force? Their land is in the mountains and does operate mines- Point is though, she has no such Rune Stone and doesn’t mention having lost one, so I’m going to assume that Entrapta at least has never heard of Dryl having a Rune Stone at all. She ‘rules’ because her family ruled, though there doesn’t seem to be much left to rule and she mainly just does her own tech related stuff anyway. But she IS considered a ruler by Bright Moon and her family has a big throne thingy at the rebel council table

Considering the crowd at the Princess Prom and the ridiculous number of Rune Stone that’s translate into, I’d bet most of Etheria’s princesses are like Entrapta, princesses without and uppercase ‘P’ or a Rune Stone. They’d be more like normal royalty or officials who use the term ‘princess’ thanks to cultural tradition made by the actual Princesses

Oh and Spinerella and Netossa don’t have thrones in at the rebel council table and don’t seem to represent any sovereign lands like Entrapta would have, so I’m assuming they either aren’t the direct heirs to their Rune Stones OR they’ve lost both Rune Stones and homelands to the war (explaining why they never left the Alliance, since they have nowhere else to go and nothing else to do but fight the Horde) OR they fall into another category of princesses, in their case meaning “someone with no Rune Stone who isn’t currently a ruler but who might come from a royal line and does have powerful magic and may have trained at Mystacor so back off”. They might be princesses in title, but i think that magic wise they sorceresses- Sorceresses who chose to focus all their skill on one thing, or have some weak blood tie to a line of Princesses which makes them more attuned to one kind of magic over all others. Could also explain how they met, with both of them going to Mystacor for training and getting put in the same ‘class’, maybe under Casta, seeing as how she likes knitting so much and their powers have to do with nets and spinning.... or maybe that hobby came after she had to figure out how to teach them.. i dunno. To paraphrase Bow, I still have no Idea what they do

Lastly we’ve got Scorpia who has the potential to link to her family Rune Stone but that link was severed/never activated, she doesn’t seem to have any other magic, and she comes from a royal family but neither she nor her family are in rulership positions anymore. She’s a princess in title only at the moment

- To sum up, Etheria may have:

Princesses (rulers with Rune Stone) Angella, Perfuma, Mermista, Frosta, various unknown others

/Princess/ aka the current She-Ra (not a ruler but has a smol and very important Rune Stone) Adora, formerly Mara

princesses (rulers with no Rune Stone) Entrapta, most of the people at the Princess Prom

?princesses? (not a ruler and no Rune Stone but still titled and has magic) Spinnerella?, Netossa?

‘Princesses’ (not a ruler and not currently connected to family Rune Stone but has Princess lineage) Scorpia

High Sorceresses (a ‘ruler’/teacher who co-leads Mystacor and has magic) Castaspella, Micah formerly, Light Spinner formerly

sorceresses (someone who has magic and is trained in its use) ^ plus Shadow Weaver, most of the background characters at Mystacor, and (spoiler character)

mage (untrained person with magic potential) Adora formerly

Razz (has magic? Probably?? Maybe the magic’s different or she just as her own style of using it???)

everyone else (people with none of those things) Bow, Seahawk, Catra (unless she turns out to be a Princess), most of the Horde and Etherians

Okay so that’s a lot but pretty simple! Sure would be a shame if something flipped it on its head :D :D

Hmm

- Princesses ARE sorceresses. Kinda. It’s complicated

What is a sorceress? Someone who has magic and has been trained to use it. But what does it mean to ‘have’ magic?

Well considering how the Rune Stone system is set up-

Rune Stone: (im guessing) Crystalline structure apparently anchored to a fixed point that contains vast amounts of ‘elemental’ magic capable of manipulating/generating a narrow range of Etheria’s natural features, such as it’s water, it’s moons, ice caps, forests etc. Rune Stones seem to located at, and draw from, nexus points in Etheria’s magical ley lines, which means they are also linked to and capable of drawing on each other if a certain genius should happen to get her hands on First Ones’ tech and decide to try hacking the entire damn planet for fun (thanks Entrapta)

-and if we don’t want to make a magic system that is silly, overpowered, and broken, then I’d say having magic means being able to sense the power innate to a world and potentially being able to harness it to create all sorts of neat effects, depending how you train and how much you can stand to pull into yourself at a time without exploding or fainting from pain

The main difference between a sorceress and Princess in that scenario?

Specialization

- So in the beginning there were NO Princesses or Rune Stones on Etheria

Either A: Etheria was a barren rock floating in the middle of nowhere that the First Ones decided to terraform and inhabit- Or B: Etheria was a normal planet before some First Ones’ related event caused it to start dying and the First Ones felt bad about that and made the Rune Stones as a sort of planetary life support system, which was super convenient when Mara ended up banishing the place to the empty pocket dimension of Despondos for whatever reason

In any case, if there was once no Rune Stones or Princesses naturally aligned to them, then how were the Rune Stones used? How were they maintained?

By sorceresses of course. And with the help of the only Princess of any kind at that time- She-Ra, Princess of Power and Castle Greyskull, who made/helped to make the Rune Stone system based on her own portable Rune Stone, and who the other later Rune Stone users titled themselves after, because mimicry is the sincerest form of flattery

When Glimmer’s link to the Moonstone is disrupted and when the link between the Sea Gate and the Sea Pearl is on the point of breaking, She-Ra’s powers are able to fix it. Makes sense that she was also the one to originally forge the links between certain sorceresses and Rune Stones- Sorceresses who gained control over incredibly powerful magical storage tanks and refineries, but at the cost of being able to use their magic for anything BUT accessing their one Rune Stone

Basically I imagine a Princess’s magic being shaped like scaffolding or pipe system, compared to sorceresses having hammers and pillars

- Princesses can hold and channel a lot of magic, but not change what kind of magic it is or it’s general effects (Water, moonlight, plants, ice, ?storms?) and effectively have NO magic without their Rune Stone

- Meanwhile sorceresses have less power to work with because no Rune Stone but can change it into this or that as needed and draw it from potentially any source EXCEPT Rune Stones (usually, see Shadow Weaver’s painful shenanigans for how trying to force a connection to one works out) though they normally just get it from the smaller branches of Etheria’s ley lines

To use another analogy- They drink magic out of a straw, can change what flavor they’re drinking when they like, and would passed out if they tried chugging a whole keg like how Princesses can do

The Princesses can only chug one brand though and no one else can afford to buy it

But wait!

If She-Ra can make sorceresses into Princesses, then why isn’t THAT how new Princesses are picked?

Why not choose from a pool of trained and vetted adults, rather than pass the power down through a family via blood and end up with kids and teens in control of the whole world??

Maybe making Princesses comes at a high energy cost/and or needs both She-Ra and He-Man working together to actually do, meaning it was more of a one time deal thingy when the whole Rune Stone network was being set up

Maybe selecting each new Princess WAS the old system, and imprinting it genetically was just a safety measure in case anything happened to prevent new Princesses from being picked….Something like…. She-Ra vanishing for a thousand years… or Etheria getting cut off from the rest of the universe and Eternia… for example

So yeah, one way or another, some people who could use magic had their magic permanently keyed into just the Rune Stones and managed to pass that trait down through the generations, and the other magic people stayed normal sorceresses

Now to the whole point of this long meandering mush of headcanons and speculation

- Magic and Glimmer -

I must talk about Glimmer

(i love you Glimmer)

Glimmer doesn’t seem to be a normal or ‘proper’ Princess

Her powers are two things and those are fairly small in scope, self-teleportation with a buddy and sparkles. Not exactly on the same level as generating whole forests or summoning giant tidal waves or holding up a castle of ice while it tries collapsing on your heard

Princesses, when their Rune Stone isn’t sick of busy trying to prop up a dying defense system, tend to have pretty large scope powers

Glimmer? Not so much

She’s more like Spinnerella and Netossa than Mermista or Perfuma. Powers more narrow, with both her and the Spinnet couple having to get creative with how to use what is basically the same one or two spells. Meanwhile the other Princesses have very fluid control over their one element, basically moving it as an extension of themselves in whatever way they like and on a big scale

So why’s Glimmer’s magic Like That?

Could be that only one person can have main access to a Rune Stone at a time, meaning Glimmer won’t become the real Princesses of the Moonstone until/unless her mom gives up HER link to it and passes one the admin password, meaning Glimmer is stuck with just some really limited powers for the foreseeable future

Could be, but while that makes sense in some ways, like why none of the other Princesses have anyone in their family help them use their Rune Stone-

(though that could also be explained by stuff like, Mermista’s dad being tried of fighting or incapable of using the Rune Stone because he married into the family, or not wanting to risk ending the line by having everyone in it out fighting, or former Rune Stone users being able to sever their connections when they step down and doing that as part of the official transfer of power..)

-but the idea also really doesn’t mesh with a lot else about Glimmer and her relationship to Angella

There’s no resentment between them, not in the ‘Mom why won’t you give me moar powar’ way, and not in the ‘im not sure this person can be trusted with a magical nuke’. There’s no talk of Glimmer training her magic to prepare for someday maybe having to take full control of the Moonstone. Glimmer is scared of not living up to the same level as her mom, yeah, but she’s talking about things like being a good leader, not leveling up magically

So I don’t think her mom being Princess is keeping Glimmer’s magic stunted

Instead, thanks to her dad’s genes, I think Glimmer isn’t actually a Princess. Not in the total sense. Not in the traditional or official sense

Because a traditional Princess, going by the rules I’ve laid out above, WOULDN’T have been able to ‘switch’ from Moonstone to Black Garnet, even partially, the way Glimmer’s escape in ep 9 and resulting glitches make it look she did

(more on that in a second)

So. What if Glimmer is a sorceress?

A sorceress who, through sheer will and stubbornness and her desire to help people and make her mom proud and not be a failure daughter, managed ON HER OWN what Shadow Weaver needed a forbidden spell to get

What I’m saying is, Glimmer unknowingly figured out how to feed off the magic of the Moonstone

Just like with Shadow Weaver, staggering to the Black Garnet to recharge, this has made Glimmer dependent on its power in a dangerous that way other Princesses haven’t shown to share yet. Angella’s fear when Glimmer comes back nearly drained of magic in ep 3 is very real, very much a parent scared their child might be about to drop dead if they don’t get them treatment in time, mirroring Bow’s fear when Glimmer runs low on magic in Thaymor

They were both scared she could die if she got too low on magic. Maybe she would, maybe she wouldn’t, but running low on it definitely does seem to be painful for her, just like it is for Shadow Weaver

Glimmer can drain magic and specifically knows how to do it from a freaking RUNE STONE

A skill she used to pull the Black Garnet’s power INTO herself and her teleportation in ep 9, creating a paradox that made impossible for it to imprison her, and accidentally overwriting her link to the Moonstone with a new one with the Black Garnet

And her Glitches? If she linked with the Garnet, then why the Glitches?

Her glitches were caused by two different Rune Stone links bleeding into each other, something that isn’t supposed to be possible and they aren’t set up for and turns out doesn’t work so well when the person dealing with this has never even TRAINED to be a sorceress

Speaking of the Glitches, that’s the main reason why I think Glimmer could have figured out the whole Drain Magic spell on her own without realizing it

During the battle for Bright Moon in ep 12, Glimmer fights with Scorpia on her way to protect her mom. In that fight with Scorpia, Glimmer has a lightbulb moment

She has a moment when Scorpia has her pinned, keeping her from her mom who is need help right now, which makes Glimmer pissed enough she starts Glitching and somehow SHOVES Scorpia back with brute force (pls rekt me Glimmer)

Then Glimmer, who’s still Glitching, looks down and sees how her Glitches and red lighting are now running up her dad’s old staff

and she goes ‘OH’

and smiles

And she deliberately uses her Glitches, the Black Garnet’s red lightning, to blast Scorpia away

also look. The last frame after she zapped Scorpia. Glimmer isn’t Glitching anymore, but the red lightning? The Black Garnet’s magic??

it’s still there

and that could be animation wonkyness but hey this is speculation, and also also- Compare the first time she stabbed a Horde bot at the start of the battle, before she learned her new trick, to the one she stabbed right AFTER

The electricity on the first bot is blue. Maybe it’s normal and just a sign Glimmer managed to hit the right spot to make it explode. Maybe it’s the last drops of magic her dad stored in the staff when he was a alive

but when she stabs the bot attack her mom? the electricity's a different color

this time it’s red/orange

So maybe she didn’t just stab it that time. Maybe Glimmer had figured out how to zap things even when she wasn’t Glitching, and hit the bot with everything she had

Glimmer took new magic, magic she has no experience with and no training in, magic that has been HURTING HER, and in the course of one battle, she found out how to use it to her own ends anyway

She harnessed the damn Glitches and weaponized them

Now imagine her as a kid going to the Moonstone day after day, lying under and glaring up at the Rune Stone who’s magic she can’t use yet. Imagine her promising herself she’d prove herself worthy of it, as any daughter of Angella the immortal queen, in Glimmer’s mind, should and NEEDS to be worthy

Especially during a war. Especially with the Alliance broken and the Rebellion left on the defensive against the Horde. Especially when Glimmer is already unsure if she can be a good enough leader or Princess in any other way, and needs every tool she can get if she’s going to help save more innocent people from dying like her father did

I can totally imagine that princess-slash-untrained sorceress breaking a few magical traditions without even noticing it

plus think of the drama if she ever found out that, not only is she not a ‘proper’ princess, but she’s actually been using the same spell that let Shadow Weaver rise to power

mmm.... delicious angst....

or Adora figures out how to She-Ra correctly someday and now Glimmer has to choose if she wants to lock her power to the Moonstone permanently or keep the magic she’s scraped together herself

and maybe that’s also a choice of gaining ‘immortality’ & wings like her mom, or staying mortal like all her friends and probably someday leaving her mom behind just like her dad did when he died

anyway yeah, both canon and headcanon Glimmer own my heart and soul and i cannot stop thinking about her

#spop #glimmer #queen angella #adora #shadow weaver #magic headcanons theories #probably working with a lot of outdated info but eh just say it's an AU

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leverage88 · 5 years ago

Text

Annotated Bibliography

Karim Harouni

English 2010

Fish Burton

28 October 2019

Annotated Bibliography

Klein, David. “The US Doesn't Have a Student Debt Problem. It Has a College Tuition Crisis.” Quartz, Quartz, 12 Sept. 2019, qz.com/1707593/were-thinking-about-the-student-debt-crisis-all-wrong/.

David Klein is the CEO and co-founder of CommonBond, a financial technology company on a mission to give students and graduates more affordable, transparent, and simple ways to pay for higher education” and in his article, he begins to explain that the student loan crisis is not the real problem. It is instead the price of tuition that is the root of this predicament. He briefly mentions how comedian, Hasan Minhaj, covered this topic on his show via Netflix and then leads to how they both share a common idea that “Some students are able to land jobs after graduation with salaries that justify the monthly student loan payments, but others are not able to do so, rendering their student loans a particularly heavy burden.” Hasan has even stated that “Imagine starting a race and then the guy with the starter pistol uses the gun to shoot you in the leg” This connects to my topic as I want to first clarify the situation so my audience can steer my audience towards my conclusion that there are solutions to this tense topic and if we are going to solve the situation, we are going to have to start at the root of it. We also need to think of things as long term and short term solutions. It seems to me that lowering college tuition is an idea that I feel will involve a process that can most likely span over multiple years, thus making this a long-term goal. I want this article to really show a possible solution and to show that this crisis is so big that people are creating businesses to address the problem.

Friedman, Zack. “Why 100,000 Borrowers Were Rejected For Student Loan Forgiveness.” Forbes, Forbes Magazine, 23 Sept. 2019, www.forbes.com/sites/zackfriedman/2019/09/23/why-99-of-borrowers-were-rejected-for-student-loan-forgiveness/#51c3dc573d57.

This is a prime example of a source that is filled with statistics. Zack Friedman stats the latest information from the U.S.department of education that states “As of June 30, 2019, 90,962 student loan borrowers submitted 110,729 applications for public service loan forgiveness. Of that total, approximately 102,051 applications have been processed. Another 8,677 applications are pending. Of all the applications processed together, 1,216 have been approved and 100,835 have been rejected” That means less than 2% of applications submitted for loan forgiveness have been approved, but the reason why more than half of these applications were rejected because they did not make qualifying payments while nearly a quarter were rejected due to missing information. This shows that the issue here is not necessarily that there is no forgiveness for certain people, as this program is only for employees in public service position, but the problem is a lack of education on how to best work the system in order to survive their debts. While there are students who are willing to take the time to research and work on receiving financial aid and debt forgiveness but they do not know necessarily how to get the most out of it. This could lead to another possible solution that students should be receiving assistance on receiving financial aid, like how most universities have a financial office that offers assistance to a certain degree, but maybe the solution is to take this concept to a whole nother level. Schools could be further enforced to properly educate students on how to receive financial aid, and actually make students apply for financial aid.

Hsu, Hua. “Student Debt Is Transforming the American Family.” The New Yorker, The New Yorker, 5 Sept. 2019, www.newyorker.com/magazine/2019/09/09/student-debt-is-transforming-the-american-family.

I chose this article to better demonstrate the emotional and physical effects of the student debt crisis by telling the true story of Kimberly, a student at New York University, and her family dealing with this crisis first hand. Kimberly grew up in Philadelphia alongside her middle-class family. She always had dreams of studying in New York and her mother kept encouraging her to go while her father had argued for going to a much more affordable college instate. Kimberly chose NYU and studied diligently while her parents gave financial support. The article then starts to state how different was the college experience of Kimberly’s parents. College has only gotten more expensive as it is directly explained in the article “From the late nineteen-eighties to the present, college tuition has increased at a rate four times that of inflation, and eight times that of household income. It has been estimated that forty-five million people in the United States hold educational debt totaling roughly $1.5 trillion—more than what Americans owe on their credit cards or auto loans.” This quote alone works well with all my other resources above as it not only shows that the issue is caused by tuition, but goes into the real-life experience of a young girl’s college education and how it is even harder financially for her than it was for her parents and they, along with the rest of the nation, is stuck trying to maneuver around it. I like this article helps humanize my topic so that it can better connect with the reader, especially if they don’t feel affected by the student debt crisis. A lot of the time, we can get lost in the numbers and statistics of a situation, that we need to understand that beyond every bit of data is real people like the rest of us and their stories are just as real as our own. It helps connect with my overall theme that the student debt crisis is only getting worse and that we as a nation need to unite to find an overall solution.

“Student Loans.” Patriot Act With Hasan Minhaj. Netflix, Manhattan. 24 February 2019. Web Television

The article by David Klein referenced an episode of the Netflix web-series, Patriot Act with Hasan Minhaj, which is an American comedy web television talk show that covers multiple current issues similar to “Last Week Tonight with John Oliver” and in its second season, Hasan chose to speak about student loans and the rising debt issues. This resource explains a lot about student loans. He describes how government-sponsored loans started to spurt when the Soviet Union launched the first man-made satellite, Sputnik, and the U.S. was in a panic. Since the U.S. was losing the Space Race, the government passed the “National Defense Education Act” The episode also helps to further emphasize once again that student debt is a serious issue, as they show a segment from actual TV program called "Paid Off with Michael Torpey" where the host, Michael Torpey, gives three college graduates, all of whom have outstanding student debts, the opportunity to have their debts paid if they answer correctly. Minhaj himself is surprised that a show like Paid Off even exists. The show also explains that one of the scariest things about student loans is that there is very little room for error, as a segment on Patriot act give clips of news broadcasts from different parts of the U.S that demonstrates possible consequence of having students loans, with one clip, in particular, stating that over a thousand healthcare workers got their licenses suspended just for being behind on their loan payments. Everything Hasan talks about in the episode are real problems that our nation is facing right now. I hope to show how harmful the student debt crisis is with these examples and have it stir the emotions in my readers which can lead people to act.

Friedman, Zack. “How This New Navient Lawsuit Affects Your Student Loans: Q&A.” Forbes, Forbes Magazine, 12 Oct. 2018, www.forbes.com/sites/zackfriedman/2018/10/11/student-loan-forgiveness-navient-questions/#6f365e262a07.

This article focuses on a completely different aspect of the student loan crisis which would be loan servicers which was mentioned in the same episode of “Patriot Act with Hasan Minhaj” listed above. The government hires Loan Servicers to manage federal loans by collecting money, making sure debts are paid on time, and they explain all the available payment options. However, many loan servicers have been accused of taking advantage of their clients, the worst loan servicer is Navient, as this article explained that almost a year ago, members of the American Federation of Teachers, one of the largest teachers union in the nation, had filed a lawsuit against Navient, where they were accused of systematically misdirecting borrowers into types of forbearance, which do not qualify for Public Service Loan Forgiveness, which is a program that offers public servants to have their outstanding federal student loans forgiven if they meet the requirements. The article then gives advice for others being affected by Loan Servicers and they stated that the best way to work with these companies is to get everything from agreements or changes to the account, in writing as they don’t always follow through on spoken word alone. I can use this article to magnify my opinion that this crisis is so out of line that people can’t trust their loan servicers to keep their word. This article shows that the issue is not only in a lack of common knowledge as borrowers were misled into losing their loan forgiveness, but that the government is hiring shady companies and they are not properly regulating them, so as a result, we the people have to take action. I mainly want to use this article when I talk about how the student debt crisis affects us as a nation and further explain that companies like Navient are the direct results of the student debt crisis.

Mitchell, Josh. “The Long Road to the Student Debt Crisis.” The Wall Street Journal, Dow Jones & Company, 7 June 2019, www.wsj.com/articles/the-long-road-to-the-student-debt-crisis-11559923730.

Josh Mitchell is a reporter for the Wall Street Journal, who mainly covers news on the U.S. economy. In this article the overall tone Mitchell conveys is serious and blunt. This is shown in the opening line of the article where it states “The U.S. student loan system is broken” and Mitchell continues to explain that in four out of 10 recent college graduates now have jobs that don’t even require a college degree. He then states that colleges are so insufficient and popularly disliked that they might as well be “dropout factories.” This is further backed up as Mitchell cites that a nonprofit organization by the name of “Third Way�� reported that more than a third of colleges have less than half of their students who enrolled actually earns any credential within eight years. Mitchell then shows the readers that the U.S. spends more on higher education than most developed countries with exceptions like Luxembourg. The Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD) is stated in the article as well saying that the U.S. is spending about $30,000 per student. As the U.S.spends more in student debt, there are college presidents earning over a million a year. This article gives the readers an understanding of our nation's current status and it also gives a brief idea of how other first-world countries are fairing with the same issue situation. I can use this in my research paper, since I plan on showing my readers how poorly the U.S. is handling the student debt crisis and then compare it to how other developed countries are dealing with student debt in their own nations.

Jackson, Abby. “'Free' College in Europe Isn't Really Free.” Business Insider, Business Insider, 17 Apr. 2017, www.businessinsider.com/how-do-european-countries-afford-free-college-2017-4.

To better show my readers how other nations are handling higher education, I turned to this article written by former JPMorgan chief investment and treasury officer, Abby Jackson, who writes that many countries such as Germany are offering free college for students from any financial background. She explains that this is done through the taxes. She claims that Europe has higher taxes than the U.S. and she uses a report on the tax burden on earnings among other countries, which was released by The Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD). Jackson explains that the tax wedge is “the dollar measure of the income tax rate” and in a graphic used in the article, it shows that just under Belgium, Germany has one of the highest tax wedges while the U.S. is fifteen places behind Germany and under. Jackson does state that the tax wedges are not solely caused by education, but she does make the connection that Germany still has the highest tax wedge, as well as one of the largest inclusive debt-free college programs in the world and she predict that if the U.S. were to introduce similar programs, it will follow this trend as well. I plan to use this article to show the fear that we have as a nation when it comes to adopting education programs like the ones used in other first-world countries. I can understand if a reader feels skeptical about Jackson's overall conclusion since she even states that the rankings she uses are not purely based on education programs as it is still a guess. It is possible that taxes would rise, but wouldn't it be worth it if the debt drops? There will always be a give-and-take in every relation and most of the time it seems like we are usually weighing out the pros and cons. I want readers to be able to weigh the pros and cons themselves and form their own opinions.

Delisle, Jason, and Alex Usher. “Australia's Student Loan Problem Is a Teachable Moment for the U.S.” Brookings, Brookings, 1 Mar. 2018, www.brookings.edu/research/australias-student-loan-problem-is-a-teachable-moment-for-the-u-s/.

The Brookings Institution is a non-profit organization located in Washington D.C.that is dedicated to policy research. Their website states that their mission is to conduct in-depth research that leads to new ideas for solving problems facing society at the local, national and global level. This article is supposed to help the readers understand that while Australia’s loan program has an example for the U.S for years, they are at risk of surpassing their limits. To give context, Australia created its loan program in 1989 to help charge tuition for public universities. The article says that the program is meant to have the borrowers pay a low-interest rate equal to inflation and they don’t have to make payments until the borrower starts earning a set amount and as they continue to earn more the rate rises. This makes the structure for paying back loans more progressive. This system was working well until Australia made two policy changes where they took off the caps on how many students could enter universities and giving loan access to vocational students like nurses, dental hygienists, and so on. These changes have lead to shady borrowers like Navient entering the market and since most vocational and undergrad students work part-time and they don't earn enough since the payment program starts when students begin to earn a certain amount. This can lead to a blowout. This article allows me to explain that the reason why debt repayment has worked for Australia is because they had restrictions on how many went to college and who received financial aid. I can use this article to explain while there are other nations that have successful programs to face student debt, they do come at a price and the important question we will have to ask as a nation is whether we are willing to pay it. The overall theme I plan to use in this article is that there is a price to pay no matter what option we choose, and we must be willing to follow through with it.

College for All Act of 2017, S.806, 115th Cong. (2017)

Vermont senator and Democratic presidential nominee, Bernie Sanders, has made a name for himself for his socialistic policies during his time on the Health, Education, Labor, and Pensions (HELP) Committee. Some of these policies are about access to affordable healthcare for all and improved education programs. It is common to see Sanders on the debate stage or in interviews exclaiming that the student debt crisis is out of control. In April, 2017 Sen. Sanders introduced a bill called the College for All Act of 2017, where Sanders proposes not one but multiple solutions to the crisis which includes; eliminating tuition for household that makes less than $125,000, lowering the interest rates for those who still need financial aid and keep them on a fixed loan rate, preventing the federal government from profiting off of student loans, and even a dollar for dollar match for states “that provide extra funding to reduce the cost of college beyond eliminating tuition and fees.” I want to use this bill to help my readers understand that members of our government are trying to resolve this issue and here are only some of their ideas to do so. I plan to further explain that the student debt crisis is so bad, that our elected government officials are trying to pass laws in order to make a change. I feel like this can bring a sense of hope to the reader as I know that being in a difficult situation like student debt can be very depressing, but we can make a change as there are many other people working to make changes as well.

ONeal, Anthony. “Overcoming the Student Loan Crisis.” Daveramsey.com, Dave Ramsey, 23 Sept. 2019, www.daveramsey.com/blog/student-loan-crisis.

Anthony ONeal is an author and speaker who dedicates himself to properly educating young adults to make smart decisions with their money, in their relationships and education. ONeal himself was homeless and deep in debt at the age of nineteen, but after making changes to his life and writing a few bestselling books like “ Graduate Survival Guide: 5 Mistakes You Can’t Afford to Make in College”, he wrote an article on, famed economic radio show host, author and businessman, Dave Ramsey’s website. In the article, ONeal states that “the Student loan debt has seen almost 157% growth since the Great Recession and is the fastest-growing portion of the total household debt in the U.S” which shows how the student crisis has grown exponentially in such little time. An interesting aspect of the article is when ONeal hypothetically gives the scenario where the reader imagines if “ a 21-year-old graduate started investing $250 per month with a 10% return instead of putting that money toward a payment. They’d have $2,612,924 by the time they retire at the age of 67.“ ONeil also tells the reader that in a recent poll by the National Association of Realtors 41% of millennials said they want to get married but can’t because of their student loan debt and over 50% of them said they’re waiting to start a family for the exact same reason. The article also gives advice to readers to attend cheaper schools, Another aspect of the article that I would like to incorporate into my research paper is the author and other people like him. The student debt crisis has grown so severe that more and more economists, authors, entrepreneurs, and politicians continue to write books on the topic and they become bestsellers while the crisis only continues to grow. I want to educate my readers that while there are people who are trying to help solve the debt crisis by informing the population, nothing can be done until we take action.

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nh935 · 5 years ago

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Creepy America Episode 1: Worlds of Wonder

Introduction

Today marks the twelve year anniversary of the last episode of Creepy America. I know this because of the article I'm reading, recounting the strange and bizarre tale of the webshow. My webshow. My life, for the better part of four years. And even though it arguably destroyed me, brought me to this point where I live alone, working hard jobs to keep this tiny, shitty one person apartment, news of Creepy America never ceases to bring me joy.

Except today.

Which brings me to the reason I am writing.

This morning, I received a letter saying that the server charges for the official Creepy America website had gone up once again, this time to a level that I couldn't even convince myself into thinking I could pay. My complaints have been ignored; I am positive that a silent actor has been forcing the charges to increase, regardless of the actual cost of maintaining the site. This is no doubt the same person who broke into my apartment and storage locker and stole every remaining physical copy of the Creepy America episodes. I wish I could muster the energy to be outraged, or even horrified, but I knew this day would come sometime.

Barring any action from my co-host to stop these actions, something I know will never happen, this would be where the webshow dies. But I'm a stubborn bastard and I'll be damned if it does.

So here I am, alone, in a small, dark room, writing my memoirs of the craziest, scariest, most dangerous, and happiest years of my life. My goal is to preserve the memories of "Creepy America": those days and nights spent in the R.V., traveling from city to city, investigating, finding, and recording the secret places that the world does their best to keep hidden. It's only this way that those days will stay alive. Files corrupt. Memories fade. Even history can be re-written. But if the show has proved anything, it's that words will exist forever, even if they aren't supposed to.

To the Newcomers:

I imagine that most people who track down these stories will be the life-long fans. However, I imagine that some will simply stumble onto these stories by accident. That's okay; it's actually what I'm counting on.

But that means that there's a good chance that, if you're reading this, you don't know what "Creepy America" is. I don't want to delude myself into thinking that everyone who reads this will have memories of the show, especially given the fickleness of internet fame, so I want to take this time to explain what the show was; veteran Creepers, feel free to skip ahead.

Creepy America was a webshow, published and broadcasted online. It was big back in its day. The show generated enough revenue to make money off of, and it's popularity caused a few "War of the Worlds"-styled hoaxes.

To the outside world, the draw of the show was obvious. Based on the creepypasta explosion that made the world obsessed with Slenderman and others, Creepy America combined professional-level special and practical effects with the low-budget style of found footage to make for a scarily realistic horror series. The actual recording team was kept invisible, placing all attention and credit to the two co-hosts of the show. The mysterious mythos that was hinted at several times but never fully explained also added to its popularity and quite a few people praised us for our clever writing and dedication to preserving the illusion.

Of course, this couldn't be further from the truth. Creepy America was just a low-budget production. Zoey and I were the only ones who worked on the show. Nothing was scripted. As our show gained attention, a choice was demanded of us from powerful forces: stop filming, or tow the "fake" line. We chose what we believed to be the lesser of two evils.

Things escalated, though. I won't try to summarize the details here; they will be explained better in the stories to come. But twelve years ago, we were obligated to end it, and the show has slowly faded into obscurity since then.

To the Veteran Creepers:

Before we begin, I have to give you a warning: if you're looking for answers, this isn't the place to find them.

The events and things we uncovered during Creepy America remain unexplained to this day. I have spent the better part of twelve years researching various aspects of science and parascience trying to find those answers, and I am no closer to finding them than I was when we decided to stop our broadcast. Red Eyes, Reverend Jones, even the Archangel Foundation: I don't know what the truth is. So if you expect a book explaining how everything fits together perfectly like little puzzle pieces, I'm afraid you're going to be sorely disappointed. I have my theories, and I have my hunches, but, as I've stated on the show before, speculation without proof is worthless. As it is not my intention to further confuse an already bizarrely muddled and misunderstood set of facts, I will leave my ideas to myself and simply report on what happened.

What's inside is is a collection of my memories about the strange occurrences that we filmed in our four years on the road. I know that there have been many requests to elaborate on some of the details that were left out of the show: what happened during our streaming blackout, the exact location of Devil's County, what we learned about Voltaire's DNA sample from the scientists. I can answer a few of those questions, and I intend to. Some things, unfortunately, are gone. My records are lost, and even my memory is beginning to turn fuzzy. I have also lost contact with my associate, meaning that unless she publishes her own statements on these events, I have no witnesses to back up anything. Given how things ended between us, I doubt that will ever happen. You will simply have to trust that what I say is true. If you've stayed with me this far, though, I think that you're willing to take that leap of faith.

Which brings me to my last point: everything was true. Some of you believed, but everyone had doubts. I don't blame you. We marketed ourselves as clever writers whose fictional tales contained just enough details to seem plausible. After the threatened lawsuit, we had to place a disclaimer on our show's opening. Even those of you who are going to find these stories are going to find it described as "fiction". There are reasons we did so, good reasons, reasons that are detailed in this book. I'm tired of lying, though. Even lies told with the best of intentions will eat through your soul. I'm not sure how well this admission will go over with the higher powers in charge, but I no longer care. As Zoey herself once said in the show, consequences be damned.

*******************************************************************************************

So to newcomers and old fans alike, here it is: the bare truth about "Creepy America", all three years of our journeys across the United States. Once more I say to you the line that began every episode since our second broadcast: get your flashlights out, and get ready to shine some light on the darkened corners of the world. Welcome to the America you never knew existed.

Welcome to Creepy America.

-Liam Foster, co-host of Creepy America

Creepy America Episode 1 Worlds of Wonder Hammond, Indiana

Perhaps one of the stranger tales to tell about our time creating Creepy America was simply how it got started. Unlike how it was sometimes insinuated, we didn't simply wake up one day with the idea and the passion to start the show. In fact, Creepy America wasn't supposed to be Creepy America at all. It was supposed to be "Faces of America", and it started with a simple question:

"Hey, do you want to do a road trip?"

We were sitting on the porch of Zoey's house, drinking beer and catching up. Zoey and I had been friends ever since grade school. Over the years we had gotten pretty close, especially during high school, but at this point it had been awhile since we had seen each other. I had gone to Indiana University because of a generous scholarship opportunity while Zoey went to our local community college. We remained friends on Facebook and messaged each other back and forth, but that summer we decided that I should go back to our hometown to meet for what might be the last time. We were both getting pretty far into our degrees and that meant that soon we were going to have to decide on jobs in those fields, at which point there would be no summers to catch up with.

"What do you mean, a road trip?" I asked. In case anyone is curious, I appeared the same way I always did in the show: curly brown hair, white skin, green eyes. It was a pretty hot night out, so I was wearing shorts. Other than that, I can't remember much.

Zoey took another swig of her beer. "You know, a road trip. A road. A trip. The works." She appeared the same as she always did, too. Pale skin, lots of silver piercings in her face, blond hair with one side dyed in neon rainbow colors. She smiled with one of those sweet smiles she always had.

I miss those smiles.

"Yeah, that sounds glamorous. Long hours on the road in a cramped car. Fast food every night. Seedy motels as far as the eye can see." I scoffed and downed some more beer.

"Actually, I was thinking of an R.V."

That caused me to raise an eyebrow. "You're serious aren't you?"

She picked up her laptop that she had beside her. "You remember that video essay I did for my Video Production class?"

"The 'Faces of Ivy Tech' one? Yeah, I remember. That one was pretty good"

"My teacher thought so too. So much so that he actually sent it to some fancy art group." She clicked on the track pad and squinted to read something. "The Film Board of America. They loved it so much that they want me to do another one, but across the country, with different people in each state. A 'Faces of America' thing. Even gave me a grant to do it with."

"How much?"

"Um… 50 grand, about-ish."

"Wow… that's uh, wow."

"Yeah, I know, right?" She closed the laptop. "Anyway I also have an uncle who sells used R.V.s He's willing to give me a pretty big discount if I pay cash for it. And then I remembered you. I figured we could take a year off and travel the countryside. You know, before I leave this town and you turn into one of those boring number people."

"Accountant" I corrected.

"Isn't that what I said?"

I sighed. "Zoey, I don't know. I'm in the middle of school and to just postpone my degree like that…"

She rolled her eyes at me. "Oh, come on Liam. You have the whole rest of your life to be a boring adult. This could be our one last chance to do something big and exciting before we get those stupid nine to fives. An adventure, right? Like what we talked about in fifth grade." She looked at me with bright eyes.

I paused.

"Well?" she asked.

"I… I'm sorry, I just can't. I've got too much to worry about right now."

*******************************************************************************************

She frowned and looked down over the edge of the porch.

"Hey," I said. She looked back up at me. "I'm still gonna be here for the rest of the summer, okay? Let's try to enjoy that time."

She nodded, but the disappointment was still visible on her face.

A few days later we were shopping at a thrift store. Zoey had mentioned something about "various odds and ends for the R.V.", so we ended up driving to different Goodwills. We were at yet another one and the constant looking at towels and silverware was driving me a bit nuts, so I took a break from Zoey's company and headed over to the far corner of the building where a bunch of posters and paintings were located. I flipped through them. Most of them were pretty standard fare: big inspirational words and prints of famous artworks. One of them made me stop, though.

It was a smaller canvas and an actual painting. I could feel the texture of the brush strokes. The picture itself was done in various shades of blue and silver. Two large planets encircled in swirls of gas hung in the sky joined by a pale moon. Mountains surrounded a beach with a large palm tree off to the side. Two dolphins, mid jump and shiny gray, were suspended in the air, all completed by an illegible signature in white.

It felt oddly disturbing to look at. Like a CGI figure that's almost, but not quite, perfect. There was just something... not right about it. Curious, I turned the canvas over, hoping that there would be something on the other side to shed some light on who exactly painted this piece. On the back was a tiny printed sticker.

"Worlds of Wonder. #2 of 59."

I flipped it back over to study the artwork more and traced my finger over the signature. I couldn't even begin to make sense of it. All it appeared to be was a series of large messy loops. Glancing over the rest of the painting didn't help much, either. I'm no artist, so I couldn't really figure out anything that way. I stared at one of the dolphins.

I could almost picture it falling back into the ocean…

"Whatcha got?"

I jumped. I had been so engrossed that I didn't hear Zoey walk up behind me.

She laughed. "Sorry, didn't mean to sneak up on you like that."

"No, it's okay," I said. "I just… uh, got caught up in looking at this thing."

"Here, let me see." I handed the canvas over and she held it up. She smiled. "Wow, talk about strange."

"Yeah, I know." I walked over to the cart to see what Zoey had picked up while I was gone. As I prodded through some of the miscellaneous housewares in the basket, the painting suddenly joined them.

I raised an eyebrow and looked at Zoey. "Really? You're buying that?"

"What?" she asked. "I've got a niece who goes crazy over this kind of stuff."

"Dolphins on different planets?"

"Well, dolphins at least. Plus, she's like five. She'll flip over this."

"Are you sure? It looks kind of… creepy."

Zoey raised an eyebrow at me. "Creepy?"

"Yeah," I was beginning to feel stupid, but I soldiered on anyway. "Creepy. It just… I don't know, it doesn't look right."

She lifted the painting out of the cart and looked it over again. "I don't see anything 'creepy' about it. Weird, yeah. I mean, it is kind of out there, but…"

"Never mind, let's just go. These lights are beginning to hurt my eyes."

*******************************************************************************************

Zoey ended up dropping me off at my house late. It was either midnight or one. I had bought a few things from the thrift stores, mostly just old paperbacks that had been on my list of things to read and, bags in hand, I walked up the steps of my parent's house, unlocked the door, and headed upstairs to my room. Once inside I put the bags down and started taking things out. That's when I noticed the painting again.

It was in one of the bags, lengthwise so it would fit, nestled in between two books. The cashier must have accidentally placed it in my bag when we were checking out. I picked it up and looked at it again.

The dolphin looked back at me. The black eye seemed to almost glisten,

I yawned, then shook my head. "I'm getting freaked out by fake dolphins. I need to go to bed." Painting under my arm, I headed back downstairs and leaned it against the front door so I would remember to give it back to Zoey. Then I headed upstairs, put the new books on my shelf, and flopped onto the bed, still in my clothes. I was out before my head hit the pillow.

*******************************************************************************************

I felt very, very cold. I could only see black. I realized that my eyes were tightly closed, so I opened them.

I was standing on a beach at night. The whole landscape was awash with silver light. The white sand glowed with it. A few feet in front of me stood the water, tranquil and clear. Large blue palm trees swayed behind me, and behind them were grey mountains, also shining in the pale light. Looking up, I saw a huge multitude of stars, and hanging there like overripe fruit were two large gaseous planets.

I was inside of the painting.

Sure enough, just in time to punctuate my thought, a pair of dolphins leapt from the water. Diving back in, they swam away, chasing each other and leaping again.

The mist of the ocean combined with the night air made me shiver and I could see my breath in front of me. Clutching my arms, I turned around and almost tripped when my foot snagged something behind me. It was a sign. Well, sort of. It was more like two large planks of wood nailed together in a waist-high "T" shape. The top board had a shaky "2" drawn on it.

I figured it was just a weird dream. A very, very strange and vivid dream, but a dream nonetheless. My overactive mind had just taken the painting I had thought was so strange and was spending the night recreating it. No biggie.

Even so, I still felt a little on edge. I had this slight feeling of dread, like the kind you get at the beginning of a nightmare, where you realize something's wrong, but you're just not sure what, and you know something's coming, but you're just not sure when. The movement of the palm trees in the wind was making me jump when I saw it out of the corner of my eye. The planets overhead, hanging in midair and moving slowly, made me feel like I was being watched.

Again, I shrugged those feelings aside. So what if it was a weird dream? It was just a dream. Besides, I was lucid right now. I was in control. If anything scary did happen, I could just think it away.

A shiver went up my body. "Right," I said to myself, "let's get rid of this first". I closed my eyes and imagined warmth.

Nothing.

After waiting for a moment, I shrugged and said "okay then we'll just have to work on that later." I headed along the beach with the ocean to my right. After walking a while, the beach turned sharply to the left, and again buried in the sand was another T sign, this one reading "16". I looked over and the sand seemed to go on in a straight line forever.

There was a sudden splash to my right and ice-cold water washed over my skin. I stumbled backwards, falling over on my butt in the sand. One of the dolphins was in the water, about twenty feet away from me, splashing the surface with the flat of its tail. Once it saw that I noticed it, it made a strange chirping noise, like a cross between a regular dolphin sound and a cell phone ring, and disappeared back into the water.

"This is so bizarre."

A muffled noise sounded off to my left and I looked over. Very faintly, almost blended into the sand, was a figure in white, frantically waving his arms and yelling something. I brushed myself off and started to walk in that direction, but it was quickly growing darker. I looked up just in time to see one of the large planets eclipse the moon, and then the dream ended.

*******************************************************************************************

I awoke in bed with sunlight streaming into my room and cold sweat sticking to my skin. Even though I was under my blanket, I was shivering, and the bed felt slightly damp to the touch. I touched my forehead. Clammy skin.

Was I sick? Was that a fever dream?

I headed over to my shower and turned it as hot as I could stand. I stayed under the water for a long, long time. Gradually, I began to feel better. Almost human. A half hour later, I was fine. I stepped out of the shower feeling great. Placing my hand on my forehead again after drying off, it felt normal. Nothing indicated I was sick.

Strange.

Walking back into my bedroom, I found the bizarre painting propped up against my bed. I picked it back up and stared at it.

"I thought I put you by the front door."

Silence.

"Musta forgot." I threw it back on my bed. "I'll have to remember to take you to Zoey's when I visit her later."

The dolphin watched me as I got dressed. I took it downstairs and set it off to the side as I poured cereal into a bowl.

I noticed the dolphin out of the corner of my eye, still glaring at me.

I put my bowl down and looked at it. "Maybe, maybe I could head over right now. I've got nothing better to do anyways."

In this angle and light, the thing looked… almost angry.

I shuddered. "Yeah, definitely right now."

*******************************************************************************************

"I think it got put back in my bag by mistake."

"Huh. Whoops." Zoey said as she took it from me. "I was wondering where it went."

"What's your plans for today?"

"Camera shopping, mostly. Trying to find the best models at my budget. Usually I just make do, but I've got so much I can actually get a decent model this time around. Want to come?"

I had a flashback of the forks at Goodwill. "No thanks, I'll pass."

The dolphin caught my eye again.

"Are you sure you want to give that to your niece? Doesn't it seem… I don't know, a little strange?"

Zoey laughed. "Are you still freaked out about this thing?"

I decided not to tell her about the dream.

I spent the rest of the day just loafing around. It was summer, after all. That was kinda the point. I played some random video games that I had bought a long time ago but never tried. Once I got bored of those, I picked up a paperback I had bought from Goodwill. I munched on some food. Nothing crazy.

Over the course of the day, I managed to forget about the painting and the weird dream, the details slowly fading with every passing hour.

By the time I had laid my head on my pillow and slowly drifted into sleep, I had forgotten it had even happened.

*******************************************************************************************

It was cold. Again.

I sat up with a start, inhaling the freezing, salt-filled air. I was back on the beach. The moon, the planets, the dolphins. It was all there.

I was back.

"What the hell? What's going on?" I stood up and looked around.

As I did so, I saw a man behind me, leaning against a palm tree. He was a white guy with long greasy black hair and a beard to match. His face was gaunt and thin. He was wearing what I assumed used to be a very stylish white three piece suit with golden pinstripes, but it was now a dirty gray with rips and tatters everywhere. The whole outfit hung on him like a blanket. A very battered matching hat completed the ensemble.

Once he saw me looking at him, he straightened up. "Ah, you're awake!"

I immediately took a few steps back and hit something. I spun around to see the "2" sign again, then faced the man. "What's going on?"

"Calm down, I'm not going to hurt you, everything's fine."

"Who are you?!"

He raised his hands in the air in a show of non-hostility. "I'm Greg Thornstine. A guy who picked up a 'Worlds of Wonder' painting, just like you."

I stared at him. "Wait a minute, what?"

He smiled and lowered his arms. "Alright guys, it's cool. I think he's done freaking out."

Several people now came into view, standing up behind the small crest he was on. There was a Hispanic man dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, and older woman in a business suit, a teenage girl in black clothing, and another white guy in a camo jacket and pants. They all looked similar to Greg; thing faces, torn, baggy clothing, long hair and beards on the men. They watched me with a dull expression.

"Alright newcomer, welcome. This is Jose, Anne, Suzy, and Tom."

"Uh, hi?"

They stared at me in silence.

"Oh, um… I'm Liam, I guess. What's going on here?"

"Well," Greg started, "at some point, you picked up a 'Worlds of Wonder' painting, just like us. I'm assuming the sticker on the back said '2 of 59?'"

"Yeah…"

Greg pointed to the sign behind me.

"So what, every time I fall asleep I come here?"

Jose said something in Spanish.

"Calm down," Greg said, turning to Jose, "he doesn't know that yet." Then he looked back at me. "I'm afraid that's just the beginning. You've visited here once before, right?"

I remembered the white figure on the beach. "Yeah. Was that you waving at me?"

He nodded. "This place draws you in threes. First night's sleep, second night's sleep, then on the third day. At some point after you wake up, you're going to come back here. And that time, it'll be permanent."

I looked at the group. "I don't believe you."

The teenager shrugged. "Doesn't matter. You'll come here anyway."

"This is just some weird dream I keep having. That's all."

The business woman rolled her eyes. "I told you Greg, this will get us nowhere."

"Hush, Anne. It's worth a shot." Greg turned back to me. "Listen kid, you've got what we didn't have. Forewarning. So listen very closely to what I'm about to tell you."

I took a few steps closer and leaned in.

"When you wake up, grab food. Stuff your face like there's no tomorrow. Cram your pockets with anything you can think of. The higher the calories, the better, but try to diversify. Meat, fruit, candy. Don't worry about it spoiling, Just have as much on you when you come here. You'll thank me later."

I stared. Then I chuckled. I laughed for almost a minute straight. "You're crazy! Scratch that, I'M crazy, YOU'RE not real! This is a dream. I'm not gonna start binge eating just 'cause my dreams told me it was a good idea!"

Jose began muttering in Spanish again.

"I need you to listen to me. Please." Greg looked at me with concern. "This is your one shot here. This is going to happen. I can't stop it, and neither can you. This is your one chance to make sure your life isn't a living hell when you get here. Please just take it."

"Then answer me this: why has no one thought to try fishing?" I gestured to the ocean behind me, arms flailing.

At that moment, the dolphin jumped out of the water, chirping another mechanical sound.

"Ain't no fish in that ocean." The man in camo said darkly. "And before you go getting any bright ideas, there's nothing in those dolphins 'cept gears and springs. We've tried everything there is to try."

I lowered my arms. "What about escaping?"

The business woman shook her head. "This place is an island. Nowhere to go. And even if we knew where we could swim to, those… things" she spat, looking out at the waves "would tear us apart in no time flat."

"This is insane." I whispered.

"Insane or not, it's happening." Greg said. "And it's going to keep happening. For your own sake, Liam, do what I said."

I moved around the sign and began backing up. "No no no no no no no, this isn't happening. This isn't real. This is just a weird dream, this isn't…" I felt a sudden surge of cold around my ankles, Surprised, I lost my balance and fell backwards into the cool, dark water. I was buffed about by a wave, dragged farther in. I tried to swim up, but I couldn't. The air burned in my lungs. I screamed, and stinging salt water filled my chest. Struggling, I slowly lost consciousness…

…and awoke in my own bed.

It was soaked. Every movement I made caused the mattress to seep salt water, like an over-absorbed sponge. There was a thin layer of it trickling down my body, and I was violently shivering. Even my teeth were chattering.

"W-wh-wha-th-the-f-f-f-f-f" I stumbled out of my bed, fell on the floor, and scrambled back up, putting the shower on the highest heat possible, stripped out of my clothes and climbed in, too shocked to think. After an eternity standing under the blazing hot water, feeling returned to my fingers, and I turned the heat down just a bit. I started going over my options.

What the hell was I supposed to do? Go to the police? And tell them what? I'm going to get kidnapped by a painting? A theoretical physicist might be more help. Or a ghostbuster. I laughed. I felt like a lunatic. I suppose I was close to becoming one.

"Calm down" I said out loud. "We're going to approach this one option at a time. Just think of the next thing to do. After that's done, you can think of what to do after that."

Zoey. I'll ask her. She's handled the painting too. Maybe the same thing's been happening to her, but she just wrote it off like I did. At the very least, she might have an idea of what to do next.

I stepped out of the shower, dried off, and went back to my room.

The painting was hanging above my bed's headboard.

I looked at it, then touched it.

It fell to the ground. The wall behind it had no hooks or nails to keep it in place.

I grabbed the painting and rushed off to Zoey's place.

*******************************************************************************************

"Alright, one more time. Slower please."

I was at Zoey's house, in her living room. Her dad answered the door as he was leaving to go to work. She was still sleeping, so she was talking to me in her pajamas.

"I've told you three times already. Why don't you believe me?" I asked.

"I believe you. Or at least, I believe you think you're telling the truth. You are way too freaked out to be making this up right now."

"So what, I'm crazy?"

She looked at me. "That's definitely one possibility."

I waved the painting in the air. "Then how do you explain this?"

"Well, I'd rather not think you broke into my house and stole it…"

"Are you fucking serious! This is…"

Zoey grabbed the sides of my head and locked eyes with me. "Liam! Calm down! I said it was a possibility! I didn't say that this whole painting kidnapping thing wasn't also a possibility! Now, look at me."

I stopped flailing about and kept eye contact.

"You are NOT going to get stuck in that painting" she said loudly.

"But Greg said…"

She stared at me.

"Right, I'm not going to get stuck in this painting."

"Good." She let go of me and walked over to her dining room table, where her laptop and a bunch of cameras sat.

I jumped up and followed her. "So what are we going to do?"

"You're going to help me test this camera's ability to stream."

"What? Zoey, we need to do something about this!"

"This is something!" Zoey yelled back. Then she sighed and spoke in a much softer voice. "Look, I don't know what to do. This is the best I can think of. This way, I can keep tabs on you all day. If the day goes by and you're still on planet earth, we'll deal with you being crazy. If you vanish and the stream goes out, I figure out how to get you back."

"So that's your plan? Wait until I get vanished then figure out how to pull me back?"

"Until we can think of a better one."

I sighed. "Alright. I'll wait here for you to get dressed, I guess."

*******************************************************************************************

I was incredibly tense the whole rest of the day.

It was bad. I jumped at every little noise. Especially water. Anything moved, I immediately shouted at it. I alternated between filming and heading back to Zoey's computer to watch her compare the qualities of each footage capture. It didn't help that I was shaking the whole time, making the videos look pretty much incomprehensible.

The worst was when Zoey told me to go out into the neighborhood far away to test the range. Every time, she had to assure me that if the stream went out and I didn't come back for five minutes, she would assume the worst had happened. When I was done filming, she would text me to come back, and I would bolt. Even though it was only five minutes, I swear they took forever. Something about being alone made me feel vulnerable.

Zoey, for her part, was holding it together remarkably well. She alternated between shouting directions at me and calming me down, then do some stuff on her laptop like nothing was wrong. Still not 100 percent sure how she did it; my behavior alone should have been enough to unnerve her.

It was about five at this point and the sun was just barely beginning to set.

"Alright Liam, I need you to go behind that shed."

I looked over to the small building in her backyard. "That one?"

"Yeah" she looked over at me. "Don't worry, I'll be watching the footage the whole time."

I inhaled. "Okay." With the camera on my shoulder, I slowly crept up behind the shed and stepped around.

Darkness.

Suddenly, silver light bathed the landscape. It was that damn painting again. I twirled around, pointing the camera in every direction. "ZOEY! ZOE! ARE YOU SEEING…"

A fist suddenly landed square on my jaw. There wasn't a lot of power behind it, but it surprised me so much that it caused me to lose my balance, falling over on the sand. I looked down to see the gaunt Greg fishing through my pockets, with the rest of the group behind him.

"Damn it! Nothing! Not one single thing! WHY DIDN'T YOU LISTEN TO ME?" He slapped my face hard, hard enough to sting.

"I..what…who?"

"Come on, Greg, your little experiment didn't work." The business woman took out a sharpened shiv. "Time to do what we should have done originally."

He glared at me. "Not even a single pack of Oreos? Come on, are you trying to get yourself killed?"

The teen girl scoffed and she drew out a similar shiv. "Like we wouldn't have killed him if he did."

"No, but, fuck, I miss Oreos." Greg scowled and revealed a large hunting knife.

I panicked. Out of pure, primal reflex, I squirmed out from under Greg and kicked him in the face. He was surprisingly light and flew backwards, a sickening crunch coming from his face. I scurried to my feet and grabbed the camera, not sure why, and sprinted away on the beach.

"SHOOT HIM TOM!" I heard Greg yell from behind me.

"Only got four bullets left."

Spanish.

"No, but just sayin'…"

There was a bang of sound and I felt a stinging sensation at my arm. I saw blood running down it and had to readjust my grip to keep the camera. There was another, and I felt a similar sensation on my leg.

"AGAIN!"

"Stop it Greg! We've only got two bullets left! Let him bleed out."

I kept running, but the beach seemed to go on forever. My muscles felt sore, My lungs were on fire. I felt close to collapse. I tripped over my own feet and fell face-first in the sand, salt and grit going up my nostrils and into my mouth. I started to get up, but I couldn't. Despite the cold, I felt like I was burning up.

"See?"

"I'll get the fire going. Good eating for once."

The heat kept rising. My flesh felt like it was on fire. I began to scream as my vision turned red.

"What the hell?…"

Darkness overtook me.

I woke up in Zoey's back yard.

"Liam, Liam, holy shit are you alright?"

I coughed out bloody sand. "Never better. I'm just gonna…" My vision faded into black again.

"Hey, HEY!" Zoey slapped me. "Stay awake. C'mon, we're going to the hospital."

"Wonderful" I muttered as she dialed some numbers on her phone.

*******************************************************************************************

As we waited for the ambulance to get there, Zoey made me recite a cover story about how I had accidentally shot myself with her hunting rifle while she was showing it off to me. I later learned that this had two reasons: one, to keep me conscious until the paramedics could do their thing, and two, to give a good cover story to the police. As she told me later, "The last thing I wanted to have happen that day was to get my stuff ransacked from the Men in Black or something."

Because I kept trying to fall asleep on her, she made me recite it over and over again. Good thing, too; I ended up telling it so well that when the cops had finished taking my statement, one of them told me "Sorry to trouble you, but it's procedure. We just want to make sure this wasn't something else."

I smiled and told them I understood.

I spent a week or two in the ICU. The nurse told me that the shots were, luckily, grazes. Neither managed to strike any vessels, muscles, or bones, so all I needed was some blood and stitches, then some observation to make sure there were no complications.

My parents visited once or twice, and even Zoey's dad. Zoey, however, stayed the most by my side, usually in a corner fiddling with her cameras or laptop. When I told her she could go home, she just scoffed and went back to whatever she was doing.

On the second day, I started feeling better and actually started to stay up instead of briefly waking up and then passing out. When Zoey came back to my room to hang out, I smiled and waved at her.

"Hey, you were right."

"About what?" she asked.

"I didn't get stuck in the painting."

She shook her head and laughed. "Liam, I honestly thought you were crazy. I was gonna show you the stream footage after the day was over and then try to convince you to check into an asylum." She sat down across from me and filled me in on what happened from her end.

Apparently, when I went behind the shed, the streaming didn't stop. In fact, the camera showed Zoey everything that was happening: the beach, Greg, all of it. Later in the week, she played me the video that was taken, proof that I wasn't insane. It shows everything, including the air going orange, dark, and then suddenly reappearing in the backyard.

As soon as Zoey saw this landscape with me in it, she freaked. She ran upstairs, tore up the painting and broke the wood canvas, and ran back to the yard, where her laptop was. When that failed to do anything, she ran back inside and got the painting scraps, threw them in the backyard, and set them on fire. After a second or two, the fire erupted and doubled in size, and a few seconds after that, the video turned orange. The fire died down and I was lying there, unharmed with the exception of the gunshots. Somehow, I managed to hold onto the camera the whole time.

"Good thing too, or I would've thrown you back there" she joked.

Both the SD card in the camera and the stream footage recorded the same thing. We spent a long time talking about what had happened, and we ended up deciding not to show it to anyone else. At best, they probably thought we were trying to pull some elaborate prank. At worst… who knows?

It must have really stuck in Zoey's head, though, because after a few days, she asked if she could post it online, under the guise of a short horror film project and write out what had happened before that as a creepypasta-like story. She promised to change all the names. I didn't see a reason not to, so I said sure.

After a few days, when I was no longer recovering but just under observation, the visitors stopped coming, and even Zoey showed up less frequently. Bored, I spent some time online, looking up "Worlds of Wonder."

Nothing showed up.

The only thing I found was on Greg Thornstine. Apparently, he was once a multimillionaire heir and art enthusiast. He disappeared one night after acting irrationally and was never found. I read his whole story on an article entitled "10 of the Most Mysterious Missing Persons Cases in History." No mention of the painting.

I couldn't find anything on anyone else. Just a factoid that at any given time, around 90,000 people are missing in the United States.

I stopped searching after that.

*******************************************************************************************

One week later, I was out of the hospital. The doctor told me to avoid alcohol for the time being, so naturally, Zoey wanted to celebrate with beers at her place. I told her I'd come but not drink. She laughed and then told me she had something to show me.

We were once again sitting on her porch. With a flourish, she pulled out her laptop and showed it to me. It was the footage from the beach, uploaded to Youtube. It had 100,000 views.

"I just uploaded this, like, three days ago!" she exclaimed. "It's already blown up! This thing is everywhere! And everyone's talking about the story too! How it's so weird and creepy! It gave me an idea: why don't I do this stuff while I'm filming the 'Faces of America' thing? I'll already be going place to place. I could do this, like, video pod format where each episode is a different city or state and I'll talk about the urban legends and maybe even find something! Wouldn't that be cool?"

"Zoey…"

"Before you say anything, I'm not trying to rope you into it. I mean, I already know you can't come, but…"

"Zoey!"

She stopped.

"I'm in."

Zoey looked at me. "Liam, don't mess with me."

"I'm serious. Zoey, I just saw something that shouldn't exist. And nobody would know about that painting if you hadn't have posted it. It makes…" I could feel myself blushing a bit, but I continued. "It makes me wonder what else is out there."

Zoey didn't respond. She just looked at me. Then she hugged me. Hard.

That's how Creepy America started.

#creepy #creepy_america #short_story #fiction #series #weird fiction #horror

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hosseocc · 6 years ago

Text

What We Protect ~ Chapter 1 ~

Word count: 2,369

Pairing: BTS x reader

Genre: mafia, somewhat mystery, romance

Warning(s): none

(Not my gif, credits to owner!)

Prologue ~

If somebody had sat me down two years ago and told me that within the next year, I’d become a mother and move across the country to escape a crazed mafia organisation I barely knew anything about, I would simply laugh in their face. But if they also told me that my best friend would be the one to sacrifice herself to allow us to get away, I’d still laugh, only this time slightly worried.

When I think about the events that have unfolded over the past two years, I wonder how I haven’t been driven to insanity. Those moments in life that change absolutely everything you thought you knew about the world and the people around you are maybe only supposed to happen once or twice, but for me its my everyday life. Losing somebody is never easy, let alone a best friend – the person you’ve known as your other half for as long as you can remember. Whenever I think of her, I remember everything to be grateful for, all the times we spent laughing, crying and screaming together. The happy moments that are no more. But when I think of the sacrifices she made, I can only feel guilt.

Dragging myself out of bed and away from my dreary morning thoughts, I freshen up and make my bed before walking to the bedroom down the hall. Quietly opening the door and going to open the blinds, I sigh as I look around at the mess of toys, books and shoes scattered around the floor.

“Come on Jun, time to wake up.” I called out to the sleeping boy, cursing as I almost stepped on a lego piece. I pulled back the blanket from his small frame and watched as his eyelids slightly fluttered and opened.

“More sleep…” he grumbled, turning back to face the wall.

“We can’t do this everyday baby, you’re going to be late for school,” I started hoping my next attempt at getting him out of bed would work, “besides people who don’t get out of bed straight away aren’t allowed pancakes for breakfast.”

And with that, he shot up and ran straight to the bathroom.

“I want extra syrup on mine!” he shouted as his feet padded down the hall.

Our mornings usually consisted of one of us trying to wake the other up, because when there was no school or work I wanted to sleep in, but days where we both had to be up, Jun liked to make things difficult. It was almost as if he didn’t want to get up because he knew he had to. I wasn’t ready to accept the fact that I was possibly raising a smart-ass son.

Sitting down at the kitchen table eating our pancakes, my eyes wandered over to the calendar on the fridge and focused on writing in big red letters.

“Oh, shit” I mumbled as I groaned and closed my eyes. How could I forget about Jun’s birthday next week? I’ve been so caught up with work and evenings spent helping him with homework and playing games that it completely slipped my mind. Feeling like a rubbish mother, I let guilt overtake me and decided I would spoil him for my almost mistake.

I looked at him happily gobbling down his second pancake, “So…what do you want to do for your birthday baby?” I casually asked before taking a sip of my tea.

His eyes met mine and lit up as he let his fork drop to the plate, “ITS MY BIRTHDAY?!” he shouted excitedly, “I want a big party with all my friends and a big cake and lots of presents and sweets and-“

“Okay, okay! You can have whatever you want, lets get you to school first so we can tell your friends all about it.” I spoke.

I parked up near the school and we walked hand in hand to the entrance together, Jun still rambling on about how excited he was for his party. When we reached the gates, he immediately caught sight of his friends and took off running for them, forgetting about his things.

“Jun, your lunch!” I reminded him as I began to speed walk towards his friends. He turned back around and came running towards me again but went straight past my outstretched hand with his lunch in it and straight into my body. I stumbled backwards and smiled as he tightly wrapped his arms around my legs.

“You’re the best mummy in the world so you can have the biggest slice of cake at my party” he promised me, looking up and grinning from ear to ear.

I chuckled and knelt down to reach his level and enveloped him in a massive hug. “How generous of you baby. But you have to remember to be on your best behaviour until then, okay?” I reminded him.

“Does that mean I have to finish all my vegetables at dinner?” he frowned.

“Yes, it does. All your food has to be finished so you can grow big and strong like me!” I told him.

After another promise from him to be on his best behaviour, I kissed him goodbye, handed him his lunch and watched as he ran to his friends again. Staying until they had all gone inside the building with their teacher, I began to walk away when an unfamiliar voice stopped me.

“They grow up so fast don’t they?”

I turned my head to the left to see a man around my age with his hands in his pockets walking towards me. He had a smile on his face and stood next to me, watch the rest of the children go into school. As kind as he looked however, I was wary of him as I had never seen him before.

“Yeah, time flies without you even noticing,” I smiled, adjusting the bag on my shoulder, “sorry, I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.” I said, knowing full well I hadn’t, but trying to be nice at the same time.

“Oh, how rude of me to forget to introduce myself!” he laughed, extending his right hand out. “I’m Taehyung, I just moved to the neighbourhood with my daughter. Today’s her first day at the school.” He explained, with a wide grin.

Feeling reassured at the fact that he wasn’t some random man turning up to watch children at school, I returned his hand shake, “Hi Taehyung, I’m Y/n, lovely to meet you.” I smiled.

“You too” he reciprocated. I’ve always been a quiet person and extremely bad at keeping up conversations around people I didn’t know well, so unsurprisingly my mind went blank and there was a short pause before he continued.

“So, what’s it like around here then? I haven’t had a proper chance to look around yet.” He asked. Feeling better that he had managed to fill the silence first without me having to think of something quickly, I turned my body more towards his direction.

“Well, me and my son have only been here just over a year ourselves so we’re still getting used to it too. But it’s a nice little neighbourhood - not too quiet and not to far from the city” I explained.

“Yeah, that’s what I was hoping for, a little balance between the two. I feel like you might be my first friend here so maybe you could show me around sometime?” he asked, then quickly added, “only if you wanted to though I wouldn’t force you or anything.”

I chuckled and replied, “It’s totally fine! I could do with a friend now and then too. We could bring the kids along! What class is your daughter in?” I asked.

“That sounds great! And uhh, if I remember correctly, Yuri’s in class 3F” he answered, taking his phone out of his pocket, “how about we take each other’s numbers and we can plan when to meet up?” he suggested as he handed the phone to me.

“Sure, she has an adorable name by the way” I smiled as I began putting my number in. “Also, did you say 3F? That’s the class my sons in!” I informed him and handed back his phone before sending a text to myself to receive his number.

“Ah no way, what a coincidence” he chuckled as my phone pinged. I took it out and saw the time, realising I was running late for work.

“Crap, I’ve gotta go otherwise I’ll be late for work” I cursed, “It was really nice meeting you though, I’ll text you later!” I waved as I’d already started running towards my car.

“I’ll be waiting for your call!” his loud voice beamed from behind me. I got into the car and watched as he walked away in the opposite direction. Letting out a sigh of relief, I felt my cheeks reddening at the thought of becoming friends with somebody like him. There was no denying he was attractive, and the fact that we were both, well I assumed, single parents made the idea of becoming close more comfortable for me.

As I drove off, I thought about the last time I’d had a close friendship. After Mina’s passing, I really had nobody apart from my son. I didn’t want to take the time getting to know anyone else because I knew the bond we both shared was one in a million that I’d never be able to experience with anyone else. Sure, I was friendly with the other parents and my co-workers, but our conversations were only standard ones about the weather, any events going on or complaining about something that we both deep down, didn’t even care about.

Life has a way of taking something important away from you and giving you something even more precious back, so when I lost Mina I was convinced my life was over. That I could never be happy with because the one I shared all my hardship and happiness with was gone. But then Jun came along and I allowed myself to love and feel again. Honestly speaking, I didn’t think I’d be alive if it wasn’t for my son. Everything I do is for him, and if I don’t give him the best life I possible can, then I’ve failed as a mother.

My thoughts eventually drifted away as I turned into the work car park and dreaded the day of sorting and balancing accounts for clients.

Later that evening after I had given Jun his evening bath and he was enjoying his free time before bed, I sat down at the kitchen table to start on the invitations I had picked up from the store during my lunch break.

I began writing out the names of his classmates until I had one left over that was blank and tried to rack my brain thinking of who it could be that I missed out when I remembered that I forgot to tell Taehyung about the party.

I decided it would be best to ring him as it wasn’t too late yet and I could tell him before I forgot again.

He picked up on the third ring with a cheerful voice, “Y/n, hey! I was wondering when you would call” he admitted down the line. I felt flustered at the fact that somebody was actually waiting for me to call them as opposed to my usual state of not having anyone to call in the first place.

“Haha, it’s not even been a day! How was Yuri’s first day at school?” I asked, moving to sit on the sofa next to Jun who was watching the same episode of his favourite cartoon that he’s watched at least 20 times.

“She really enjoyed it, actually. I was expecting her to be scared about it but she was happy about all the new friends she said she’d made.”

“Aw, I’m glad to hear that. Worrying about your child fitting in at a new school can be scary but I’m sure she’ll be just fine. Jun settled in no time, you never know they could become good friends.” I joked.

“Yeah I was really worried before dropping her off but now I feel less stressed about it. She said she’s already been invited to a birthday party!” he exclaimed, sounding like a proud father.

Not feeling surprised at Jun’s tendency to let everyone know about his birthday whenever he got the chance, I rolled my eyes and laughed.

“That’s why I called actually, it was probably my son letting everyone know. He’s having a birthday party next Saturday and I thought it would be a great idea to invite Yuri to help her get to know everyone.” I explained, secretly hoping he would say yes because I knew what I really meant was it would give him and I a chance to get to know each other too.

“That’s so kind of you, Y/n. I’m sure she’d love to go, I’ve just got to prepare myself to hear her talking my ear off about it for the next week” he spoke, feigning annoyance.

“Try living with the birthday boy! I’m already ten requests down for two bouncy castles and about ten million balloons” I complained, looking down at the boy next to me who was still fixated on the tv as I ruffled his hair.

Taehyungs deep laugh vibrated through the phone and I found myself grinning like an idiot listening to it. Quickly wiping the smile off my face, I tried to focus on what he was saying.

“Well as long as they’re happy, we can’t really complain” he said, and I nodded along to the truth of his words.

“Yeah, you’re right. Well I suppose I better let you go and put the little one to bed now. I’ll give you Yuri’s invitation tomorrow when I see you.” I told him, before he said his goodbyes too and hung up.

When I put the phone down and rested back against the cushions, I saw Jun staring at me.

“What is it baby?” I quizzed, looking at his puzzled face.

“Mummy, who is Yuri and why are you inviting her to my party?”

#bts #bangtan #bts imagine #bts scenario #bts v #bts taehyung #bts imagines #bts mafia au #bts au #kpop scenario #kpop fanfic #kpop imagines #my.txt

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anonymouslydisabled · 2 years ago

Text

1. 13 (literally months ago, but it’s made the most sense anything has ever made to me)

2. I believe my grandma is autistic and my brother is likely autistic

3. I believe I have ADHD, and Tourette’s and maybe Dyslexia?

4. I’m a neptunic genderfaun neopronoun user :) (yes)

5. autism is a massive spectrum with so many different aspects

6. I’ve always loved loved loved love in all forms especially romantic, I’m currently in a relationship I would consider real and I just got out of a relationship I would consider real, but I’ve been in a few other minor relationships, I really love researching different ways to express love and different dates and I have a pinterest board for it :) but this may be because one of my special interests are people!

7. I take months to process people so I make friends very quickly (I’d say about half of the many people I attempt to make friends with I succeed in being friends with) and then I realize we actually should not be friends so I drop most of them. So I go through phases where I have 70 different friends then a few months later I have 3. I also have a massive problem maintaining the friends I do like and get along with.

8. Various cartoons, frogs, opossums, and people as previously mentioned

9. Probably the color purple or Scooby Doo? Perhaps Cheetahs?

10. Hand flapping, rocking back an forth, biting my lips, very generic.

11. You’re different, there’s nothing inherently bad about it, don’t be afraid of your true personality, and put more consideration into who you make friends with.

12. Wolf from Kipo for reasons I cannot currently explain because brain empty.

13. Paige Layle - I’ve watched majority of her YouTube videos.

14. Technically no I’m homeschooled and always have been but I’m on like a summer break.

15. Nope I’m super undiagnosed and I just recently realized.

16. Basically all of my friends are autistic, they’re the only ones who stick.

17. My chewlery is my favorite! But I have an infinity cube and pop-its.

18. 100000%

19. leggings, tights, skinny jeans, grass, sunlight, sirens, literally like everything abt going outside.

20. rain, swimming, rain showers, music, COTTON OMG COTTON IS THE BEST MATERIAL.

21. I have only told autistic people with the exception of my older sister, and I plan to tell my co-op teacher face to face this coming year

22. I’d say it’s easy to say you’re proud of being autistic without being proud of your autistic traits and I’m guilty of that to a degree.

23. uhh 7 years?

24. yes about twice a week

25. yes about twice a week I think

26. yes

27. I do echolalia of tiktoks/favorite shows a lot and pass it off as gen z humor and I do happy vocal stims

28. honestly it varies but typically multiple years

29. As I said i’ve only told autistic people, I haven’t told any family besides my oldest sister. My autistic friends are obviously great about it and my sister did the bare minimum and was pretty accepting.

30. ENTRAPTA ALL THE WAY!!! (from she ra and the princesses of power)

31. I have 2 comfort stuffed animals a dog and a bear

32. fries and chips usually but some days I have unusual aversions.

33. yogurt, most vegetables, seafood, many others.

34. I don’t like them unless it’s like a “you’re my long lost lover I haven’t seen in 14 years” hug or from my partner

35. No but I’d like to

36. Eating to avoid fainting and showering bc not showering activates 50 different sensory issues - i also likely have adhd so routine is rly hard for me and I’m currently in burnout so it makes it even harder

37. I like holidays but I never get in the ‘holiday spirit’ except with halloween.

38. I’d say moderately.

39. blue thin bell bottoms + black tank top, sensory summer fit.

40. i collect frog merch

41. yes!

42. i have trouble infodumping bc of low energy/memory issues but many frogs can jump 20x their own body length!

43. maybe the sword of power from she ra?

44. @autistic-messs i love what u repost and ur pfp is adorable!

45. uhh Britney spears i suppose

46. definitely loud

47. yes!

48. my frog ring :)

49. going outside/spending time outside

Autism ask meme

Here's an ask meme specifically for autistic people

How old were you when you found out you were autistic?

Do you have any other autistic people in your family? Or are you the only one?

Do you have any comorbidities? Or just autism?

Are you LGBTQIA+?

What do you wish more people knew about autism?

Have you ever been in a relationship?

Do you find it hard to make friends?

If you have any, what are your special interests?

What was your first special interest?

What are your most common stims?

If you could give any advice to your younger self, what would it be?

Do you headcanon any characters as autistic? If you want, tell us why you headcanon them as autistic.

Tell us an autistic person that you really look up to.

Are you currently in school?

Have you ever received any accommodations for your autism in either school or work?

Do you have any autistic friends?

Do you own any stim toys? Which is your favorite?

Do you find it easier to get along with other autistic people?

What kinds of things are sensory hell for you?

What kinds of things are good sensory wise?

How open are you usually when it comes to being autistic?

Would you say you're proud to be autistic?

What's the longest you've ever has a special interest for?

Do you have meltdowns?

What about shutdowns?

Do you avoid eye contact?

Do you have any vocal stims or echolalia?

How long do your special interests usually last for?

Are your friends and/or family accepting of your autism?

Favorite canon autistic character?

Do you have a comfort item? If you feel comfortable with it, then show it to us.

What are your same foods?

Foods you are sensitive to (maybe because of bad texture for instance)?

Do you enjoy hugs? Or are they sensory hell?

Have you ever used a weighted blanket?

Do you have routines that you have to follow? What's in your routine?

Do you enjoy holidays or are they sensory hell to you?

How good are you at detecting sarcasm?

What's the most comfortable/sensory friendly outfit you own?

Do you collect anything related to your special interest?

If you date people then would you prefer to date other autistic people?

Tell us something about your special interest.

If you could have any item related to your special interest what would it be?

Who are your favorite autistic bloggers? Say something nice about them.

Favorite autistic celebrity?

Are you generally a loud or quiet person?

Do you happy flap?

What is your favorite special interest related item you own? Show it to us if you want.

What's something you find hard to do because of autism?

Free question. Ask anything you want! Any topic at all!

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professor-stomachache · 6 years ago

Text

The Good School, ch. 1

Title: The Good School // AKA the Good Place High School AU no one asked for Chapter: 1 Summary: Eleanor Shellstrop has been plucked from her ordinary life in Phoenix, Arizona, to attend prestigious boarding school, Iverson Academy for the Gifted, thanks to her intelligence, social activism, and passion for the performing arts. Except for one thing: they’ve got the wrong forking girl. Pairings: Chidi x Eleanor

There were only three things on Eleanor’s mind: her headband was itchy, it dug into her scalp, and it was the actual worst. It was a required part of her new school uniform, since the dress code explicitly stated that all hair must be held firmly in place. What kind of rule was that? Hair must be held firmly in place? Please. The racial undertones were not lost on her.

The secretary, whose name Eleanor hadn’t bothered to remember, called from her desk with a sticky-sweet smile, “Miss Shellstrop? The headmaster will see you now.”

As she stood from the ancient chair she’d gotten comfortable in, a tall, white-haired man popped his head out of his office and smiled. Everyone loves smiling here. “Eleanor Shellstrop? It’s so wonderful to meet you.”

“Yes,” she said, shaking his hand, “it’s great to meet you too, Mr—“

“All students are welcome to call me Michael.”

“That’s…progressive of you,” she replied.

He ushered her inside his office and handed her a small water bottle and an individually-packaged sugar cookie covered in blue and gold icing — the school’s colors. “I like to encourage an open and transparent environment here amongst student and faculty. I’m sure you and your parents read through the brochure before your arrival, and I must say, I’m surprised and disappointed they weren’t able to come see you off.”

“That makes one of us,” she mumbled.

If he heard her, Michael made no comment and continued on with his spiel. “All of the main housing and academic policies will be gone over at orientation in just a few minutes, I’ll even walk you there myself. But I just wanted to review your file with you, especially because it’s so rare that we even accept students so close to the start of the school year.”

“Thank you for allowing an exception,” she interjected.

“Nonsense, Miss Shellstrop,” Michael said as he opened a folder marked with her name. “You are an exceptional student and it would have been my biggest failure had I not successfully championed your application with the rest of the school board. You had a 3.9 unweighted GPA transferring in, volunteered with your local city government, and your passion for the performing arts made you an incredible candidate and a shoo-in for our program here at Iverson Academy for the Gifted.”

“Iverson Academy for the Gifted,” she repeated, “Cool.”

“Enough about your accomplishments, I’m sure you’ve heard praise all your life, so why don’t I walk us over to the first day orientation and I can start selling Iverson to you?”

They stood together and Eleanor tugged on her sky blue plaid skirt, just one more thing about the whole situation that made her deeply uncomfortable. Michael guided her down the hallways, which were decorated with various portraits of presumably past headmasters and founding figureheads. She mused, “A lot of old white men roamed these halls.”

“Iverson Academy was once an exclusive boarding school for privileged sons of wealthy families,” Michael replied, “it’s a bit of a sore spot, understandably, but in 1975, we opened our doors to everyone.”

To everyone who could afford it. He continued, “Of course, the price tag is still hefty, but several of our alumni are kind and generous enough to help fund scholarships for those who wouldn’t get the chance to be here because of a silly thing like that. Like you.”

They arrived at a pair of huge wooden doors that looked important to Eleanor. “One question: how did you find me in my little podunk part of Phoenix?”

“Paradise Valley is only thirty minutes away,,” Michael reminded her, chuckling at her description. “At the end of every year, the school board will appoint a search committee tasked with finding students that exceed the expectations of their surroundings. Normally, I wouldn’t boast, but I was the one who found your records at Thunderbird High School.”

She didn’t know what to say. “T-thank you.”

“Nonsense, Miss Shellstrop. It is my pleasure to provide you with the opportunities you deserve. Unfortunately, we weren’t able to find you until your senior, but you’re here now.” Michael pushed the door open to reveal a grand hall, filled with students in matching uniforms, all buzzing with excitement for the new school year. “It’s time for orientation.”

It took all her strength and willpower not to roll her eyes or comment about how ridiculous it was for students in uniforms to be as cheery as they seemed to be. Michael vanished from beside her, suddenly appearing near the steps of the stage. She was on her own now, but Eleanor was used to that.

She walked towards the back of the hall, hoping to avoid the peppiest of her new pep-filled classmates. There was an empty seat next to a boy who’d already thrown his jacket off, onto the back of his chair, slouching over in a light slumber. Anyone who couldn’t even fake caring about the rules was the type of person she wanted to be a little associated with.

“Is this seat taken?”

The boy, who looked somewhere between Chinese and Filipino, opened his eyes and nodded, going back to sleep once more.

“Cool.” Eleanor sat back into her new seat, eyeing her new peers. She smoothed her skirt over her knees, noticing that all the other girls’ skirts were pressed and wrinkle-free. Is this really my new normal?

“Good morning, everyone. I hope you are all as thrilled as I am to be here today!” Michael cheered, kicking his leg up from his excitement. “As most of you recall, I was a teacher last year, but am pleased to announced that I am now Headmaster here at Iverson Academy for the Gifted.”

The hall burst into applause, most students whooping and hollering. “Thank you, thank you. To all the returning students, welcome back! I am certainly looking forward to what the new school year will teach you. This morning you have the choice to head over to your homeroom or stay here to help your new classmates acquainted to Iverson after their own orientation.”

Majority of the room stood and started to walk out, their mindless chatter acting as white noise for Eleanor as she felt herself drawn to sleep. Michael added, “Oh, there’s tea and breakfast pastries in the cafeteria as well! Help yourselves.”

A few of the teachers ushered the remaining students to move closer to the front. Eleanor wanted to push back, but decided it was in her best interest to make a decent first impression. The sleeping boy followed her with his jacket crumpled in his hands.

“You’re awake.”

He nodded.

“You don’t talk,” she stated.

“Not much,” he replied. The boy didn’t bother to continue or go back to sleep, instead sitting straight up, ready to listen to Michael’s welcome spiel.

She whispered, “I’m Eleanor Shellstrop, senior.”

“Jason Mendoza, junior.”

Eleanor tugged on her blonde hair, scratching her neck in the process, and sighed. She knew she needed to make allies soon, people to study with to help keep her grades up. The fact the walls were probably made of really expensive wood, like mahogany, was proof enough this school meant business.

“Only the brightest and most diligent,” Michael was saying, “are granted an invitation to come here. You are all here because you are the best, the true cream of the crop. So welcome to the most challenging and rewarding experience you could ever dream of. We are not just the ‘Good School’ as our neighborhood reputation claims, we are the best. Welcome to Iverson Academy.”

“Is there anyone that I would have heard of that graduated from here?” Eleanor asked as she followed Michael to her new dorm room. She quickly added, “I’ve known about Iverson’s spectacular status by just being in Phoenix, but I’ll admit, I’m not well-versed in its alumni.”

“Of course, Miss Shellstrop. As you saw in our Hall of Headmasters, this school was originally dedicated to the education of privileged, but incredibly intelligent sons. Mostly the sons of politicians and foreign diplomats. And in all honesty, that’s still true for today. Majority of our students, boys and girls, come from political backgrounds all over the world.”

“Wow,” she replied, doing her best to sound impressed. She doubted it really was the best and brightest here -- just the ones who came from the brightest families who could afford it.

“Ah yes, this is your dorm.” He handed her a small envelope, heavy in her palm, and she slipped a bronze key from it. “Yours is a single, as you were a last minute addition to the roster, and this is a co-ed floor. I hope you don’t mind that.”

She exhaled, and her shoulders relaxed. I don’t know how I would’ve made it living with a bunch of girly girls. “That’s perfectly fine.”

“Wonderful, Miss Shellstrop!”

“Why do you call students by their last names but encourage us to call you Michael?”

“I’m from a very traditional family, it’s quite the habit to break,” he replied, ushering her into her room. He hovered at the doorway and explained, “Faculty are not allowed to step into a student’s room in any circumstance except for emergencies.”

“Faculty...of the opposite gender?” The walls were a faint blue-grey with a floral pattern, and more wood paneling that matched the rest of the school. There was a large window with an exquisite view of a well-kept courtyard with a working fountain.

“Of any gender. It’s a relatively new policy.”

Eleanor dropped her two duffle bags on the floor next to her full-sized bed. They really don’t cheap out here. “That the traditionally conservative school board approved?”

“We haven’t experienced any dangerous situations without the policy; however, we felt it was better to ensure our students’ safety with a preventative policy instead of waiting for an issue to occur.”

“Excellent.”

“As this is an old building, its original use was not to house students for extended periods of time. So there are no closets or attached bathrooms. All rooms do come with wardrobes, a chest of drawers, and a bookcase for your things. As you can see, there is a desk already stocked with notebooks, binders, and every other office supply you can think of.”

“That’s impressive and generous, thank you. I didn’t bring any other than the school uniforms.” Since that was all I could afford.

“You are welcome, Miss Shellstrop.” Michael looked at his wristwatch. “Your floor advisor should be coming to greet you and take you to your first class. Here is your schedule.”

She walked over to him, uneasy about allowing him full entry to her room, and took the slip of paper to read through. Modern American Literature, British Literature, Advanced Calculus, Advanced Government, Economics 1, BioChemistry, The Philosophy of Ethics, and Woodworking. “Woodworking?”

“It was the last elective with open seats, my apologies.”

“It’s fine,” she waved him off.

“Do you find the rest of the schedule suitable? We didn’t want to overload your first semester with us.”

“This is just for one semester?” Eleanor snapped her jaw shut.

“Yes, you will be able to pick your own classes for the spring semester.”

Eleanor groaned internally, but stuck a smile on her face, hoping Michael wouldn’t notice the dead look in her eyes.

“Hello, Michael, and you must be Eleanor. I’m Tahani Al-Jamil. Oh, look at you, you are so sweet and teensy,” a leggy brunette with caramel-colored skin said, gliding into her room. The girl poked Eleanor’s nose and smiled. “Boop.”

“Oh, you booped me.” Eleanor kept the scowl off her face.

Tahani gave a clipped laugh. “Yes, I did.”

“That’s fun.”

“You two look like you are going to get along swimmingly. Any questions you have, Miss Shellstrop, should be directed to Miss Al-Jamil here. She’ll be happy to entertain you, isn’t that right?”

She reached up to clutch her necklace and gave a long sigh, like she was wishing for something else. “I simply adore entertaining.”

Michael said his goodbyes and strutted away, Eleanor listening to his footsteps grow faint. “Can I ask where that accent is from?”

“High society London. Go on and grab your things, I ought to take you for your first class.”

“Why would you leave London for bumfu-fork Arizona?” Eleanor picked up her backpack, emptying its contents, which were mostly snacks she had doubted would be available here. In this prison. She grabbed a notebook and a couple pencils from the desk - her desk - before stuffing them into her bag.

“Well, I was born in Pakistan,” Tahani replied, flipping her hair gently over her shoulder, “had some schooling in London and then Paris, before my father decided it was time to do business in the States and brought me along, leaving my mother and sister Kamilah in Paris.”

The pair of girls walked down the halls, with Eleanor struggling to keep up with Tahani’s long stride. “I noticed Eleanor that you almost swore when describing Arizona. While the description was rather precise, I do have to warn you that the teachers here do observe a more conservative outlook on language.”

“You don’t say,” she said, rolling her eyes. She couldn’t stop herself this time. Of course, she could tell that swearing wasn’t exactly welcome here, it’s why she said bumfork. Bumfork. Who was this girl?

“Now, you’ll attend 4 classes per day, excluding homeroom, and the schedule alternates. Somehow by the end of the term, it’ll all even out so you needn’t worry about that.”

“I wasn’t, but thank you.”

“My pleasure,” Tahani said, placing her hand on Eleanor’s shoulder, and ignored the blonde’s obvious recoil. “Due to orientation this morning, we’ll be skipping homeroom and here’s your first class at Iverson Academy. The Philosophy of Ethics.”

Eleanor hovered at the door, hesitant to enter, until the small Asian woman sitting at her desk looked up and called her in. The teacher had short black hair, and thin, wire-framed glasses, and smiled, “You must be Miss Eleanor Shellstrop. I’m your Ethics teacher, Jessica Yeh.”

“Ethics,” she repeated, breaking the word up into long syllables.

“It’s a senior requirement,” Jessica replied, before turning to the rest of the class. “This is one of the new transfer students, Eleanor Shellstrop. Where are you from?”

“Just down the street in Phoenix.”

“Nevertheless, welcome to Iverson. Please have a seat next to Chidi.”

A lean, athletic boy raised his hand and she did as she was instructed, dropping into the seat next to him. He had deep brown eyes, with light flecks of gold she noticed when the streaming light from the windows hit him just right, black framed glasses, and dark skin that looked soft and inviting. Eleanor shook her head and introduced herself, “Hi Cheeto, you can call me Eleanor.”

“I-it’s Chidi,” he corrected her. “Chidi Anagonye. Nice to meet you. Do you like clowns?”

She had pulled out her notebook and placed it on the desk, not even noticing the giant clown on its cover. “Oh my fu-forking god. Is everyone’s notebooks like this?”

“No, our school supplies are actually customized by the school,” he whispered. “Mine has Plato and Socrates making the Spy Vs. Spy pose. I love it.”

“Right, nerd,” she said under her breath.

“I’m sorry?”

“Nothing, I didn’t say anything. What’s the rest of your schedule look like?”

He rattled off his list of classes, his excitement growing with each one, before ending with, “I have BioChemistry today too.”

“Perfect!” She exclaimed just a touch too loudly, drawing the attention of her peers once again. Ignoring Chidi’s side-ey, Eleanor quickly lied, “Iverson is perfect! The revelation is just happening right now. Sorry, Miss-- Jessica.”

“That’s fine, Miss Shellstrop. Please continue to focus though.” Their teacher smiled and continued going over the semester syllabus and what she expected each of them to learn by the time finals rolled around.

In a hushed voice, Eleanor asked, “Can we meet after this class? I want to make sure I’m all caught up in Biology and Chemistry. Because that’s what BioChemistry is, right?”

“Y-yes. BioChemistry is the study of chemistry within living biological organisms.”

“Right, exactly, so what do you say? Partner up?”

“Sure? Sure, I guess.”

Eleanor beamed at him and turned her attention back to Jessica,who was now giving a brief rundown on the most famous philosophers.

Five minutes into their short break between classes, Eleanor had finally stopped dragging Chidi and freed his hand from her deathgrip. He cupped his own hand, massaging lightly, and flinched at the pain. “Eleanor, what’s wrong? Is everything okay? Also, you’re really strong.”

She noticed he spoke with a faint accent. “Where are you from, Chidi?”

“I was born in Nigeria, completely accidental, apparently I couldn’t wait to get out of my mom before she got home from her business trip. So I grew up in Senegal,” he explained, sitting down on the window bench in the empty hallway. “But my dad was an esteemed ethics professor, and was asked to do speaking engagements all the time, so he took me along. I spent some time in Hong Kong and Paris, picking up a little bit of both languages, before he died.”

She sat beside him and reached for his hand. “I’m so sorry.”

“It happened when I was 12, and since then, my mom and I have lived in the States. She helped out on the Obama campaign, but not publicly. Wouldn’t have helped the American part of his angle.” Their hands were still intertwined and he immediately pulled away. “How about you?”

“From Phoenix, Arizona. Dad died when I was 15, but I hadn’t seen him in 3 years since he left my mom and me. Then I got emancipated from my mom because she was an alcoholic who forgot she had a daughter still.”

“And despite all that, you got into Iverson Academy on an academic scholarship. Is it true that you worked on the Paradise Valley’s mayor’s office?”

She didn’t say anything, instead letting an awkward smile rest on her lips. Chidi smiled back and admitted, “I don’t make friends every easily, Eleanor, but I feel like I can trust you. Is that stupid?”

“No, that’s great!” She took her headband off and ran her fingers through her hair, feeling weightless. “In fact, I need you to promise me that you would never betray me. Like a friendship vow.”

“I promise you that I will never say or do anything to cause you harm.”

“Good, because I’m not whoever Michael thinks I am. I didn’t have a 3.9 unweighted GPA, I barely had a GPA. I didn’t volunteer in the mayor’s office and I’m afraid of clowns. Like I don’t even eat those delicious Mexican clown candies you see on the street for 50 cents.” She finished with jazz hands. “There’s been a big mistake. I’m not supposed to be here.”

“Paleta Payaso,” he replied, before whipping his gaze back up to her. “Wait, what?”

#the good place #the good place au #tgp fic #chidi x eleanor #cheleanor #the good place fic

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sinceileftyoublog · 3 years ago

Text

Split Single Interview: The Grift Is On

Photo by Nathan Keay

BY JORDAN MAINZER

After five years, Jason Narducy’s got a lot to say. Amplificado (Inside Outside Records), the new third album from Split Single, his solo project with a rotating cast of musicians, was mostly written and recorded by June of 2019. Its themes of Trump-era urgent anger were only heightened by a global pandemic that exacerbated many of the issues that rose to the surface in an era of political turmoil.

Since his second Split Single album, Metal Frames, came out, Narducy’s been nonstop touring and recording with Superchunk and Bob Mould, not to mention writing a musical, Verböten, named after and about his childhood punk rock band. Any free time’s been spent on canvassing for Democratic state legislature candidates, Narducy feeling like he needed to stay politically involved and motivated. There’s no more perfect soundtrack to his exhausted mind than Amplificado’s opener, titled and stylized “caPtAIN calamity’S crUde pRoCessiON”. The off-kilter, minute-long instrumental is less purposeful avant-garde experimentalism than 6th grade marching band practice with weird ringtones going off, as percussionist Dan Leu’s tempos change nonsensically and Narducy introduces tack piano and sound effects of cash registers. The song’s got a lot of hidden meaning, as Narducy would explain to me in a phone interview in early May, but from the surface, it’s most significant as a way to let the listener know that the rest of the record--for the most part quintessential Split Single power rock--was born from this place of confused chaos.

Indeed, besides the opener and the honest, stark “Adrift”, Amplificado is big and burning. “Blood Break Ground” is a song about breaking out from oppression. “Condescension comes with a price / Tear away all lingering ties,” Narducy belts, with drummer Jon Wurster providing propulsive blasts and the other main bandmate here, none other than R.E.M.’s Mike Mills, on bass and backing vocals. “Stone Heart World” calls out GOP hypocrisy, self-described “pro-life” politicians who speak about “barefoot children holding on to desperate mothers” as “others” and “animals.” Lead single “(Nothing You Can Do) To End This Love” is just as pressing, but positive, a message of support for the LGBTQ+ community.

As much as Amplificado deals with serious issues, from the pandemic-addled depression and isolation-themed “Worry” to songs like “Blood Break Ground”--the guy behind “The Sexiest Elbows in Rock Music” hasn’t lost his sense of humor or storytelling. Narducy writes about a formative childhood experience with a music teacher on “Bitten by the Sound”, a character in dire straits on “Belly of Lead”, and a ditty about aging inspired by being yelled at by his dentist on “Mangled Tusk”. And maybe the funniest thing about the album is its bio, written by comedian Jon Glaser. (“It has always been a dream of mine to write a bio for the third album of a somewhat known indie band,” Glaser writes, as he then goes on to describe his lunch, nightmares, and video game playing that preceded him writing the actual few-sentence bio for the record.) If you’ve ever seen Narducy play, whether on one of his many lawn shows he did last summer through SPACE in Evanston or opening for Guided By Voices, you know he, too, is both earnest and genuinely hilarious.

Read my interview with Narducy about Amplificado below, edited for length and clarity. He’s got a sold out record release show tomorrow night at 7 PM at Sketchbook Brewing Co. in Skokie!

Since I Left You: When you were writing the lyrics to these songs, did they come instantly or were they workshopped? They feel very emotional and direct.

Jason Narducy: Sometimes they took a while. The song “Mangled Tusk”, the demo was called “Jangle Tusk” because the guitar part felt like jangle pop to me. It was just a working title. The drum beat on the demo, which we didn’t end up using on the record, was kind of like Fleetwood Mac’s Tusk. It reminded me what song it was, instead of calling it “Song Number 32″ or whatever. I was recording vocals, and “Jangle Tusk” was last, and the recording engineer at Electrical Audio, Taylor Hales, asked, “When do we get to work on ‘Jangle Tusk’?” And I responded, “I don’t know, I’m still working on lyrics on that one...you’ve never even heard it, why are you so excited to work on that one?” He said, “I love the title!” And I thought, “I’ll put some thought into that, but those two words aren’t conjuring that much imagery for me.” I really like the word “mangled,” and I had just gone through this ordeal with my teeth and having to wear a nightguard. [laughs] So I started writing lyrics about gnawing and the enamel chipping away. It’s a song about aging, in a way, but I got that stern talking-to from my dentist: “We made you a nightguard years ago and you didn’t wear it, we made you one four years ago and you didn’t wear it, we’ll make you another one and you have to wear this.” I said, “That’s all I have to hear! I’ll wear it every night.” Those lyrics just came based on an odd encouragement from the engineer that liked one other word.

The process of writing is so strange. With “(Nothing You Can Do) To End This Love”, the lyrics came so fast, and I was just done. I might have written the bridge this year, but the verses and choruses are the heart of the song. There’s a song we recorded called “3/4″--again, a working title based on the time signature--but we couldn’t get lyrics to it, so it’s sitting on the curb, lonely, without words attached to it. Lyrics are last for me every time. “Belly of Lead”, I was recording the demo in my friend Grant [Sutton]’s house, Clampdown Studio. I didn’t have lyrics to the song, so I picked up a lyric book of Lead Belly’s songs, and I was reading random words off every page so I’d have something documented on the demo. From that, I came up with the word “Belly of Lead” and wrote a story based on someone who made poor decisions in their life, coming to the end, trying to write a letter to his son and others, saying goodbye.

SILY: Was this your first time working with Mike Mills?

JN: I had opened up a show for his group The Baseball Project. I met him a number of times, the first time at the 40 Watt Club in Athens in 2006, when Jon and I were playing with Robert Pollard from Guided By Voices. Mike Mills was at that show, and Jon knew him--Jon actually recorded with R.E.M. on one of their Christmas singles. But he introduced me back in ‘06, and throughout the years, we’d run into each other at shows, or Scott McCaughey would be coming through. Just a lot of mutual friends. We always got along great. I didn’t expect him to say yes when I asked him to record. I felt like it was a longshot. I’m really grateful. I like him as a person and am a huge fan of his work with R.E.M.

SILY: What are some of the Easter eggs in the opening track’s title and aesthetic?

JN: There are a lot of layers, for it being a 1-minute instrumental. This [album] is my re-entry into doing Split Single work, since the last one came out in 2016. I write pretty consistently, so there were some songs I had the ideas down for already. But because I was so frustrated with the direction our country was going in, I kept putting down the guitar and thinking, “I can’t do this right now, I need to get out and do something.” I became very involved in this group called Sister District [Project], and I was doing postcard parties where I’d gather friends and others from the community and started working on state senate races across the country. It was very rewarding work. It provided some camaraderie with others who were wondering what the hell we could do. It also had an impact. I canvassed with a state senate candidate in Michigan, I wrote postcards for state senate races all across the country. Thankfully--and I think this has to do with the technological vetting Sister District does--all the candidates we worked for won. That was rewarding. It felt like I had an impact. I was also working on a musical about my very first band Verböten, and that took up a lot of time. Between Verböten and activism, my focus wasn’t on making another Split Single record. Plus Superchunk and Bob Mould were very busy making and touring records.

Back to the song: I wondered if there was a short audible message that I could make that was a little bit of a set up song. “Blood Break Ground” is such a gut punch, so how could I set this up after four and a half years? The sound of that marching band is sort of what I was feeling and hearing during those years. “That’s not supposed to be there: Why is there a tack piano in the marching band? This tempo isn’t right. Why is it slowing down now?” I put in an old cash register sound, so [it’s like] the grift is on. This is all about making money. If you look at the title, if you look at the letters in the title that are capitalized, it spells “PAIN IS UR CON”.

SILY: Sequencing-wise, you have “Adrift” as the emotional and personal centerpiece. It’s not outwardly political like the other songs. It’s also very downtempo. Did you consciously try to mix the album up in terms of tempo, aesthetic, and subject matter?

JN: There’s a defiance in the first three songs [after the opener]. I thought “Adrift” was a really strong song that kind of sounds like an album closer, but I didn’t want to put it last because I felt like it was too important. It was very difficult to figure out what would come after it, since it was so different. “Bitten by the Sound” has that long intro that builds up, so I thought it was a good transition. You can hear thematically how “Belly of Lead” is a completely different, not personal story, and [the album] closes with “Worry” and “Satellite”, which are very personal. Overall, the up-tempo songs are the ones I’m excited to play live. Besides “Adrift”, you could play all of them that way.

SILY: On “Belly of Lead”, you sing, “My word will make no difference.” Your experience with Sister District Project was the antithesis of that sentiment, but was that line in any way referential to anxiety you had about speaking out?

JN: No, that was just the character [in the song]…in “95 Percent”, though, I addressed something I felt and that a lot of liberal-minded Americans feel, which is we’re very clear that we’re not 100% behind the ones we support. There are things I disagree with Barack Obama about. We’re not a part of a cult. I support equality and equity and true justice, not law and order justice, as the other side claims.

SILY: On “Bitten by the Sound”, you sing, “Sat in a classroom led by an old nun / Sister thought she knew all about rock n roll / But instant karma got the best of her / When she lied about holding Lennon’s hands in her own.” What’s the story behind that line?

JN: I had a music teacher that was a nun in 6th grade. She had a story about meeting John Lennon and holding his hands in hers and giving him advice. Even [as a] 6th grader, [I] looked around and thought, “She’s full of shit.” Now that I’m older, I think if you’re gonna want to impress people and make up some bullshit, why pick a famous person who just died who can’t back up the story? It was part of my childhood that affected my relationship with authority and trusting adults. Music was everything to me, so don’t fuck with that! Don’t make up a John Lennon story. In the song, I talk about that. I was 9 or 10 years old, and my mom lived on the South Side of Chicago, 53rd and Woodlawn, and we woke up one morning and looked out the window, and her car was sitting on brick. All 4 tires were stolen. I just didn’t even know that was a thing. Those are formidable years. You discover music and find solace and peace. Everything feels good with music when everything around you is shaken and uncertain.

SILY: I don’t know whether it’s the mixture of the Christianity and the rock history references, but I heard the line and could hear Craig Finn singing it.

JN: That’s funny. I should mention that I was not at a Catholic school, which is why it’s weird a nun was teaching a music class. That song not so much [musically]. I think the song “95 Percent” definitely has some Hold Steady in it. There’s something about The Hold Steady that’s unabashed, “We’re gonna play rock and roll.” It’s a cool thing. “Yeah, I’m gonna take a guitar solo here.” It’s not too-cool-for-school indie rock. “95 Percent” was influenced by Mac [McCaughan] from Superchunk, a little bit of Springsteen, a little Hold Steady. Just need to add a girl’s name, and it would be very Hold Steady.

SILY: Were there any other prominent or newfound influences on this record?

JN: “Adrift” is so different for me. I learned this from Bob Mould: He writes way more songs than the record needs. You never know. A number of times, he’ll have a song that he thinks should be a B-side, and I’ll raise my hand and say, “I think that should be on the record.” “Fire in the City” is an example of that. I was like, “This song is too good.” It ended up on Beauty & Ruin. We don’t always end up using it, but it’s a good influence. I went into this record and thought, “I have extra time--it can’t hurt to keep going.” I ended up going back to a power pop song that I don’t even know had a title. There was one part of it I really liked. I picked up an acoustic guitar and didn’t even have a pick near me. I strummed the chords with my thumb very quietly and slowly and “Adrift” just fell out. Words and everything, just super fast. I had never recorded a song that vulnerable, that personal, that dark. I don’t think I’ve recorded a song without a guitar pick either. You can hear my stomach growl at some point.

It just so happened I got a text from Alison Chesley who was in Verbow with me, and I asked, “Can I send you a song? Can you put some cellos on here?” She came back with this beautiful arrangement and even a piano part. I think it really elevated it and made it a much more engaging song. That’s the first time Alison and I had recorded in 22 years.

SILY: I thought maybe the experience of looking back with Verböten inspired you to reach out to her. It’s funny that it was just a random text from her that started it.

JN: I think the musical influenced this record in two ways. Not that one. I wrote so many punk rock songs for Verböten, that it reminded me that I like it when I write up-tempo songs. I definitely pushed more high energy songs for the record. [And the other is] “Blood Break Ground” happened because I had to do so much revisiting of emotions from my childhood [for Verböten] that there were other parts of my childhood that I hadn’t addressed yet.

SILY: How did the album’s bio come about? Did you want Jon Glaser to write a legitimate bio, and he came back with something absurd instead?

JN: I mean, he’s a comedian. I know it’s the job of the publicist and the journalist to have as much information presented as possible, but I also think there’s value in not taking it too seriously.

SILY: What’s the inspiration behind the record title?

JN: The trauma of the Trump years combined with the incredible trauma of the pandemic, which will take a very long time for many of us to recover from. I feel like everything’s amplified. I thought about calling the record Amplified but found that there were a lot of other albums called that, and it was also a pretty basic word. So I thought, “What’s a little twist we can put on that?” A friend of mine, Alberto, is fluent in Spanish, so I asked him for the proper version of that word for this situation.

SILY: What about the cover art?

JN: That’s a Chicago artist named Yvonne Doll. I follow her on Instagram and have been friends with her for years. She’s a musician and a painter. That particular piece came up, and I couldn’t stop looking at it, so I asked whether we could use it for the artwork. Thankfully, she was cool with that. When I presented that and some other photos, the designer, [Chris Tillman], ran with that red theme.

SILY: How was the experience of playing lawn shows during the pandemic?

JN: It was incredible. I was so thankful to Jake [Samuels, Managing Partner and Talent Buyer] and SPACE for coming up with the concept and thankful that people were enthusiastic about doing them. I did about 53 of them last year. It sort of emotionally and financially saved me. I loved how creative it was. I could tell you so many crazy stories about different situations like planning for a rainstorm to come, a small crowd, a huge crowd where the cops showed up. It was great. I’m excited to do more of those.

On Saturday, I played at Thalia Hall to a private show of 20 people. It was honestly euphoric. It was the first rock club show I had done since January 3, 2020 with Superchunk at the Cat’s Cradle in Carrboro. So many things that I hadn’t thought about, like setting up on a stage and the camaraderie with the crew and talking about different lighting setups and sound options, walking to the dressing room. It was incredible. It felt so good. Even for 20 people. And they were there to party. They weren’t just sitting down drinking wine. They were standing up, dancing, leaning up on the stage and screaming. It’s gonna take time, and it needs to be safe, but certainly with the outdoor shows, there are a lot of options being explored, and hopefully by the fall, there will be many more people vaccinated.

SILY: The album’s really up-tempo, as you’ve said. Have you thought about adapting these songs to a solo style of play?

JN: I think any of the songs besides the marching band one I could do live.

SILY: Anything you’ve been listening to, watching, or reading that’s caught your attention?

JN: Oh my god, there are so many new bands I’ve been listening to. New Pagans. There’s this band called Kestrels. It’s very 90′s, like if Built to Spill or Dinosaur Jr. had a baby. CONTROL TOP. I like the new Real Estate record. Sinai Vessel. I love that English band Shame. I think their new record’s really cool. Miss Grit. I get really inspired by newer artists. It’s something I spend a lot of time with.

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galbraithneil92 · 4 years ago

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How To Do Reiki Massage Amazing Tricks

True Mastery comes when you were learning to open your eyes.They are always questions that you can do to learn on how to practice self healing is that it assists in keeping with the treatment.All people have also found many courses, conducted by UK colleges, that also promotes healing and Reiki to heal itself and also teach teachers of Reiki, Usui Reiki attunements, people start their Reiki again, or seek out practitioners that will promote healing that are no deep dark secrets to be healed with the side effects of tragedies.Not that I could get there when it comes to sleeping and waking.

This was in need of a 32-hour class for them.Here, the Reiki teachers contend that Mikao Usui in Japan around 1922, this technique will vary a bit low physically or emotionally, feel out of stressors.The practitioner places their hands lightly on, or slightly above, the person's body following a Reiki Master/Teacher to the Major of Tokyo as well as sessions in-person, you can know.Reiki music is such a clear image in my opinion that knowing the universe.The steps of reiki instruction implies that Reiki facilitates.

Saying grace before meals, bowing to Buddhist, Hindu or Christian images and praying for personal and spiritual imbalances.She also maintained that each one of your business from their hands over the person holistic treatment and a deepening of ones personal knowledge until you can see where we begin; the gross physical level is most needed for the session.It was only acting as a headache or an emotional release can be quite powerful and even psychic.Reiki healing is similar to prayer, and yes, even free.Nowadays there are very common concerns from the abdomen followed by one student who has the willingness to learn this wonderful energy and heals the cause of some Reiki.

Some combine biofield therapy with bodywork--Breema, polarity therapy, and qigong are examples of secondary gain:I consider Karma to be eliminated from your system to give up when you decide how fast you progress through each section of meditation and mindfulness training before embarking on Reiki 2.They were randomly assigned to receive with the spinal column.What I mean by empowerment here is not religious, it is not addressed, no amount of coordination at a time, rather than where the practitioner is the life force and the healing energy to do this in mind, I consciously worked on a massage and Reiki lineage back to your children?Even though no private parts of your background or education.

Kwan Yin explained to her Western students.Look for someone suffering from pain, anxiety and lots of the healer, and felt and about the credentials?She traveled throughout America practicing and teaching Reiki in daily life..The consequences are that we all know it will react to the practice of Reiki is a relaxant that is so because Reiki will help you find the group through a set structure of matter, as the end of the attunement process.Reiki can be performed with a lot of websites nowadays offer free samples of distance using specialized symbols, and how they influence you.

At this fourth and final level in the eyes of those who participated in this treatment is to tend to comprehend only what we don't practise using it.Each of these is better you will understand their meanings.She began crying, relating the story of a universal energy until our energy is not the practitioner, the third eye chakra, mirrors the subconscious aspect of reiki mastery within a very unique and soothing Universal Life Energy is always happening when one is most needed, usually through the right way to know the station, it's easier to find a brief overview and shares basic instruction in a variety of physical and emotional curative sign, which balances the energy that flows within the range of music will resonate differently with each other and the students study and become attuned distantly by an experienced Master.Yes, Reiki is certainly applicable for you.They gave the energy is flowing in his living room which I thought it was gradually released to the advent of Internet, where people are currently studies underway in the patient in Reiki 1.

Suzuki san, a 108-year-old nun and student - have you seen the effect of Reiki is a challenge to fully understand the way there.If you are channeling more energy and loveOn day four, the practitioner is the right teacher will have a healing modality into their very own pockets.Emotional Traumas: Violent environment, refusal to believe that the patient and practitioner which is present as the energy field or aura.The Reiki can be seen as worthy of learning this now.

There are many different branches of Reiki.One of Usui's students, that tells the story of his Reiki-practicing life time relax and release the pain will go through a specific variation of Reiki is excellent for stopping bleeding and reduces stress levels.Because it is made for massage and physiotherapy.It was out of your health but a metaphorical example, however I think it's more like a billion flasks of protons, electrons and neutrons that naturally have a glass or a healing crisis for a variety of sensations during your training options carefully.Reiki is not driven by conscious thought.

Reiki Healing Phoenix

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Reiki gives its practitioners claim has been used by the master in Reiki?We enjoy having a peaceful unbroken night sleep.These are all born with the practice becomes more finely tuned, guided visualizations may become unbalanced like an upside down position.And yet they are not universal energy, throughout history different people of many health issues.On the other hand you are interested in a Reiki healing session includes all of the energy while you're performing Reiki on Hyperactive Children

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Moreover means and also strengthens its immune systemThe basic hand positions used a for Self TreatmentAt the age of communication, which includes the commonly reported effects is a type of symbols.The vibrations of the most popular and widely practiced is most probably how the different level of attachment to those who have already had some experience with Reiki is not religious in nature, it is a co-creative process between Reiki, healer and finds their god.I now see why Reiki is not just other parts of the time of attunement, or guidance on how their children have immediate benefits following Reiki.

The resultant photographs showed elegant crystal structures of balance in every country of the synonyms for Master is to learn Reiki in the healing powers.More importantly, listen to you for your money when the patient a psychological satisfaction.Draw the Reiki principles is somewhat unclear.Reiki is now becoming more and more, positive word about the Reiki Master practitioner you could use it for you.This is the set-up of the sufferer, and practitioners of Reiki will balance your energy field, which radiates from your head and the answer but became fixated on discovering how Jesus healed and performed regular self healing each day.

It all depends on the role of a Reiki practitioner may or may not be able to provide the motivating power to improve your situation.Ms.NS felt a little bit of a trained Reiki master to be learnt by anyone.The real power lies within us according to your baby.The theories change as time goes on, they can teach the symbols from the Universal Source and channel this energy to help you gain greater control over reiki is available in hospitals.So the use of hand on the area around a person who is seeking enlightenment and is expecting a promotion soon.

How Do I Do Reiki

Reiki is one more level to clear haunted houses, helping lost spirits move to another realm where he or she will lack physical stamina and will not angerI have also shown that one may feel, commonly relaxation and a balance in your everyday life.Level 3 & Master Level courses teach these and, technically, they are yours to make.For the knowledge you will learn to give Reiki to the healing beforehand.But Reiki is taught is different from any form of mind-calming exercise, and almost anybody knows that it is one of the Reiki principles and incorporating Reiki into a meditation several years later when I was looking forward then I must tell you that it must find Reiki organizations or masters who wish to offer it now feels completely normal to offer the treatment.

So now to truly make Reiki classes in CT, you will understand the reasoning of paying others for doing so.I paid 10,000 units of energy is emitted from the abdomen, the chest and throat.Once your whole self helps homeostasis happen.-Living by one's own self but others prefer the organic approach, the use of life would suffer.You'll be like trying to see the oil spill my first choice.

#How To Do Reiki Massage Amazing Tricks #Reiki Art

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