#blood money 2017

[fanofspooky]

Scream Queen - Willa Fitzgerald

[anthonysperkins]

Dirty Men in Film (insp): Brad Davis in Querelle (1982) Rami Malek and Charlie Hunnam in Papillon (2017) Rick Hearst in Brain Damage (1988) Paul Newman in The Young Philadelphians (1959) Arnold Schwarzenegger in Predator (1987) Tom Hardy in Mad Max: Fury Road (2015) Marlon Brando in A Streetcar Named Desire (1951) Alexander Lincoln and Alexander King in In from the Side (2022) Bruce Willis in Die Hard with a Vengeance (1995) Burt Lancaster and Howard Duff in Brute Force (1947) Jason Patric in The Lost Boys (1987) James Caan in Thief (1981) Leonardo Sbaraglia and Eduardo Noriega in Burnt Money (2000) Sylvester Stallone in First Blood (1982)

[moonxknightx]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : STAY WITH ME (PT.4) : :;

╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ 2017!Logan Howlett x F!Reader

・❥・GENRE: Fluff and angst :))

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆FANDOM: X-Men

ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: Violence/Abuse, mention of death, emotional distress, strong language, mental anguish

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: You, Logan and Charles process the shocking revelation from a video that reveals the horrific experiments on mutant children, including Laura, who is Logan's daughter. Logan struggles with guilt and fear, but you comfort him, assuring him that you're by his side. After arriving in Oklahoma City, you check into a hotel, buy new clothes, and try to rest. Logan opens up about his fears, and you share a special moment, promising to stay with him through the challenges ahead.

Previous Part | Next Part

WHEN YOU LEFT THE STORE OF THE GAS STATION, you saw Laura sitting on the small pony machine while also noticing that Logan had taken a seat in the back of the car next to Charles while looking at a phone.

You flashed Laura a smile before walking back to the car. “Hi.” You said as you also got into the backseat.

Logan immediately looked up at you and gave you a warm smile as he scooted closer to Charles to give you more space to sit.

You also started smiling while looking at Logan. You tried your best to hide it, but you failed miserably. The two of you did kiss a few minutes ago!

“What are we watching?” You asked as you sat down next to Logan.

“I found this phone in the motel room of Gabriela.” Logan explained as he showed you the phone.

Suddenly your smile disappeared. You were so busy with fighting Pierce’s men and escaping, that you totally forgot about Gabriela.

“Did she…?” You started but stopped once you saw Logan nodding.

“I found her dead in her motel room this morning.” Logan said quietly while you cursed under your breath.

“Poor Laura…” You sighed as you turned to the window to look at the girl.

Logan cleared his throat while turning on Gabriela’s phone. “We found a video on her phone. Wanna watch it?”

You sighed as you gave a small nod. You moved closer to Logan and put your chin on his shoulder so you could look at the screen.

“Okay let’s see.” Said Logan, putting on his glasses before playing the video.

You saw how Gabriela appeared on the small screen, introducing herself before taking about Alkali Transigen Research, the company where she worked for then years in Mexico City. Then she said. “What i’m about to show you is illegal in the U.S. and Canada.”

You watched how the video switched to Children walking through a hallway while being escorted by guards.

“What is this?” You asked as you watched intensely. Gabriela started explaining how her and her colleagues were told that they were part of a pharmaceutical study, which was a big lie.

She explained how the children that were showed in the video, were born at the Transigen facility and that they never left. She told that the children were raised in the bellies of Mexican girls before they got experienced on. They told them that the Children were made from “special seeds in bottles”.

While Gabriela explained everything, the video showed camera footage of the children and how they were treated. It was inhuman.

She explained that the children were being trained as soldiers and killers. Then the video cut to an image of Laura lying on a hospital bed while doctors operated on her. Her claws were out and there was blood all over her.

“These are babies of mutants.” Were the last words of Gabriela before the phone turned off.

All three of you, Charles Logan and you were speechless for a moment. You watched how Logan took off his glasses while looking away.

“North Dakota.” Said Charles quietly. Logan hummed. “You took the woman’s money. You said you would take the child there.” Charles continued.

Logan kept quiet as he looked at Laura who was struggling as the Pony stopped moving.

You could feel Logan’s emotions through your telepathic powers. You could feel his anger, sadness and frustration. You wanted to hug him. Tell him that everything was going to be alright, but even you couldn’t say that after seeing the video.

“What is she?” Asked Logan after a while.

“She’s your daughter, Logan.” Answered Charles. Your breath was caught in your throat as you heard Charles’ words. And you were sure Logan’s breath was too.

You watched how Logan reached for the door of the car, wanting to get out.

“Alkali has your genetic code.” Charles went on as Logan turned back to him. “Not just mine.” He said before opening the door.

“Logan..” Said Charles softly. “I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t wanna hear about it anymore.” Sighed Logan as he closed his eyes and got out of the car.

“Logan.” Said Charles again. “Just stop!” Logan said while raising his voice. “I have to pee…” Smiled Charles slightly.

“Oh for fucks sake!” Groaned Logan as he rolled his eyes.

“Logan calm down.” You said as you got out of the car as well. Logan looked at you with furrowed eyebrows, but once his eyes met yours, they immediately softened as he let out a deep breath.

“Okay old man, let’s get you to the bathroom then.” Said Logan calmly.

You watched for a moment how Logan helped Charles out of the car before heading towards Laura while pulling a few coins out of your pocket.

“Here you go.” You smiled as you handed her the new coins. You watched how she put them into the machine, and in no time the pony was back to moving again.

For a moment you just stared at Laura. You felt so bad for her. She must’ve went through some very traumatizing things. That’s why you sensed so much anger every time you were near her.

You stayed with Laura until Logan and Charles came back from the restroom. “Let’s go.” Said Logan as he motioned for you and Lauro to follow him.

Once you were all back in the car, Logan started the engine and drove off. A few hours passed as you drove towards Oklahoma City, the sky already dark as the moon appeared on the horizon.

“Let’s stop here for a few hours. You have to rest Lo.” You said softly while pointing to the side of the road. Logan nodded and turned to the right, slowly stopping next to the highway.

You watched how Logan turned off the car before looking over your shoulder to see that Charles and Laura were already asleep.

“Are you okay?” You asked, breaking the silence. Logan shrugged. “I don’t know.” He sighed while pulling out a phone charger.

“Where did you get that?” You asked. “At the gas station. I need to see the rest of the video.” Said Logan as he put the charger in the charging hole in the car before connecting it to the phone of Gabriela.

“Do you want to get out for a while?” You offered quietly. Logan nodded and got out of the car. You quickly followed after him and watched how he leaned against the car bumper.

“Talk to me Logan.” You whispered as you moved closer to him. Logan spread his legs slightly to let you stand between them.

He watched how you placed your hands on his thighs while looking up at him.

“I don’t know what to say…” Sighed Logan while looking down at you. You nodded, understanding the situation.

“That’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it right now. Just whenever you’re ready, okay?” You smiled softly.

Logan nodded before suddenly wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest.

You immediately hugged back as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Thank you for being here.” He whispered in your ear. “You don’t have to thank me Logan.” You chuckled while playing with his hair.

“No i do.” Said Logan sternly as he slightly pulled away. “I was a complete asshole to you while you were just trying to be there for me the whole time. You didn’t deserve that. I’m sorry.” Logan repeated.

“It’s okay Lo.” You smiled before slowly placing your lips on his. Logan immediately kissed back while one of his hands moved to your hair. He tightened his hold on you while pulling you closer if that was even possible.

“We have to get her to North Dakota, Logan.” You breathed against his lips as you slowly pulled away after a moment.

“I know bub.” Logan said quietly as he cupped your cheek. You closed your eyes at his touch as you leaned closer into him.

“I can’t believe i have a daughter.” Logan spoke after a moment of silence. “I know.” You sighed softly.

“The things they did to her and the other children��it’s horrible.” Logan said slowly. You could feel anger rise in him as he spoke. You kept quiet as you let Logan think about it all for a moment.

“And now they got Caliban too.” Logan sighed while you pulled away from him. You totally forgot about Caliban.

Logan saw your worried expression and immediately grabbed your hand. “We will get him back, i promise.”

You gave Logan a small nod before suddenly yawning. Logan chuckled at the sight before motioning towards the car with his head.

“Go and get some sleep, i’ll be right behind you.” Logan said. You raised one of your eyebrows while looking at Logan. “I promise.” He smiled. “I hope so.” You said quietly while getting back into the car, closing your eyes to get some sleep.

Logan stayed outside for a few minutes longer before getting back in the car as well. You were already deep asleep as Logan carefully reached for Gabriela’s phone.

He turned on the device, put on his glasses and continued with watching the video. He saw some horrible imagines as Gabriela talked about how the children wouldn’t listen. They grew restless but they still didn’t want to fight. That’s why Alkali started working on something new, something they believed to be better than the children. Gabriela explained it all.

The video showed how some of the children were put to sleep or got killed. Gabriela told how she and her colleagues tried their best to help some of the children. She started talking about a place up north. A place for mutants. Eden.

The video ended with Gabriela begging in the camera to take Laura to Eden. to safety.

Logan sighed as he turned off the phone and took off his glasses. He turned towards your sleeping form and carefully reached for your face. Then he turned around so he could look at Laura and Charles.

“Are we going to take her to that so called Eden place?” Your sleepy voice sounded from Logan’s right.

Logan immediately turned back to you and saw how you had one eye open to look at him. Logan’s lips curled up in a small smile while nodding.

“Yeah we are.” He said softly. You started smiling too before closing your eye again. “Good.” You sighed contently.

“Go back to sleep bub, you need your rest too.” Logan said while taking off his jacket, carefully placing it over your body.

Soon you were fast asleep again while Logan kept looking ahead of him, thinking about everything that happened in the past 24 hours.

~

When you woke up a few hours later, you were driving through Oklahoma City. You were enchanted by the many lights of the city. Laura seemed to be as well as she was sitting in front of the backseat window, staring with an open mouth at all the buildings and lights.

“Is this where we’re hiding out?” Asked Charles as he was also looking around.

“We’re not hiding out. We’re gonna get a couple of hours’ sleep, clean up, get some new clothes, get a new ride and get out of here.” Logan said as he looked at Charles through the front mirror before glancing at you.

“Sounds good.” You said softly while smiling at Logan.

Soon you and the others arrived at a big hotel with a casino in it. Logan drove the car in front of the hotel and got out of the car. You and Laura followed after him and watched as Logan helped Charles get out as well.

When Charles was seated in his wheelchair, Logan gave the keys to the valet before pushing Charles towards the entrance of the hotel, you and Laura following.

When you entered the building you couldn’t help but be in awe of what you were seeing. “This is huge.” You said while looking around.

You watched how Laura sped up so she could walk next to Charles as he placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey are you okay?” You asked Logan as you grabbed his hand gently. Logan looked down at you and gave you a small smile. “I’m okay.” He answered.

“Can you stay here with Laura and Charles while i’m going to get us a room?” Asked Logan as he stilled. “Yes of course.” You said as you watched how Logan headed into the direction of the reception.

“How are you feeling Charles?” You asked as you looked down at your old friend. “Tired.” He answered with a small smile. “I know. Soon you will be able to get a good couple of hours sleep in a comfortable bed.” You smiled. “Thank God.” Charles chuckled.

“What about you Laura? Are you okay?” You asked as you kneeled down in front of her. She gave you a slight nod before turning away and looking around.

Logan returned shortly after with a key. “Let’s go.” He said as he grabbed Charles’ wheelchair and headed for the elevators.

“Laura let’s go.” Logan said as he looked at the girl. You turned around as well and saw how Laura was standing in front of a store while looking at two mannequins dressed in clothes.

Charles also noticed and chuckled. “We do need some new clothes.” He smirked while looking up at Logan.

“Oh fuck…” Groaned Logan before pushing Charles towards the store with the mannequins.

“Come on it will be fun.” You joked as you slightly bumped shoulders with Logan. “Can’t wait.” Said Logan, his voice laced with sarcasm as you all entered the store.

You watched how Laura immediately went to the children’s section to pick out a new outfit while Charles did the same with the men’s section, rolling himself towards it.

“Wanna help me pick something out?” You asked Logan while tugging on his sleeve. “Yes.” Smiled Logan slightly as he followed you towards the women’s section.

Logan followed you around like a puppy. He watched how you picked up various items, asking him what he thought before putting them back and continuing looking around.

He liked seeing you like this. You looked so adorable as you skipped around the store, trying to pick out an outfit.

“What about this?” You asked Logan as you held up a white tanktop, a black zip up hoodie and black jeans. “Don’t want to draw too much attention right?” You added.

Logan chuckled before nodding. “I’m sure it will look great on you.” Your lips curled up into a smile as your cheeks started to warm up. “Thank you.” You said before walking towards the men’s section.

“Your turn now.” You grinned. Logan rolled his eyes while pointing ahead of him. “You pick something.” You frowned. “You sure?” Logan nodded. “Okay let’s see.” You said as you started skipping around the store once more.

After a few moments you returned to Logan with a whole new outfit.

“What do you think?” You asked while holding up a pair of black jeans, a black t shirt, a blue flannel and a light brown orange jacket.

“Looks good.” Logan approved before taking the clothes from you. “Thank you sweetheart.” He smiled.

Soon the four of you were in the elevator with bags full of clothes and some other things. When you arrived at the room, Logan opened the door and let Charles, Laura and you get in first before following after you.

“We have two bedrooms.” Logan announced as he put all of the shopping bags down on the floor.

“Laura and me can take one room so you and Logan can take the other one.” Charles smiled while looking at you. He probably noticed something changed between you and Logan.

“Thank you Charles.” You said as you felt your cheeks getting warm again. Logan awkwardly cleared his throat as he walked over to Charles. “Let’s get you ready for bed then.”

“I’m going to take a shower okay?” You said while looking at Logan. “Yeah sure take your time.” He said gently as he turned his head to look at you.

You watched how Laura climbed onto the bed while turning on the tv. You gave her a smile which she returned before heading into the bathroom.

You turned the shower on and started to undress yourself. Being extra careful with taking off your shirt because of your stitches. When you were fully naked, you stepped into the shower and washed everything off of you from the last day.

You tried to clear your mind, but found it difficult after witnessing everything in the last 24 hours. You felt sorrow for Laura. How scared she must’ve been all those years. You also felt for Logan whose whole world was collapsing step by step. And then there was Caliban. Captured by Pierce. He was probably dead already or being tortured mercilessly.

“Just take a deep breath.” You told yourself as you started washing your hair and body.

After being in the shower for twenty minutes, you turned it off and wrapped yourself in a towel before exiting the bathroom. You immediately went to the room you shared with Logan to find him sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Hey.” He said softly as his eyes met yours. “Hey.” You said back as you walked over to him. You sat down next to him and took his hand in yours.

Logan looked at your intertwined fingers before speaking up. “I’m afraid.” You could barely hear him as his voice broke.

“Logan…” You sighed as you squeezed his hand.

“Please stay with me.” He said as he looked into your eyes. Your heart broke when your eyes met his. You could see that Logan was trying to hold back tears from falling, which pained you.

“Lo…” You breathed as you gently placed your hand on his right cheek.

“Stay with me.” He repeated. “I will. I will stay Logan, i promise.” You said immediately before pulling him into a tight embrace.

Logan immediately buried his face in the crook of your neck as small tears slipped from his eyes.

“It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m right here.” You whispered into his ear as you pulled him closer if that was even possible.

In your embrace, Logan's trembling form melted into your warmth as he softly cried, the tears a cathartic release after the turmoil of the past 24 hours.

The events that had unfolded left him shaken, and the uncertainty of what lay ahead filled him with a deep, gnawing fear. Yet, in your arms, he found a sanctuary, a place where he could finally let go.

The gentle rhythm of your heartbeat reassured him, providing a momentary shield against his anxieties. As he clung to you, his sobs slowly subsiding, Logan knew that despite the chaos, he wasn’t facing it alone, with you, he finally felt a fragile but precious hope.

“I promise i will stay with you.” You said quietly as Logan slowly pulled away from you.

“Here.” You spoke softly as you gently wiped Logan’s tears away from his face.

“Thank you.” Sighed Logan, feeling a little better after being able to let it all out with you by his side.

“You don’t need to thank me, you know that.” You said while placing a kiss on his forehead before getting up.

Logan watched how you went over to the bag with new clothes and pulled out a simple black t shirt you bought as well to sleep in. You also grabbed a pair of panties and carefully put them on without dropping your towel.

You could feel Logan’s gaze on your back the whole time. Slowly you let your towel drop to the ground, revealing your naked back to Logan before putting on your new shirt.

Logan quickly looked away when you turned around. You couldn’t help but smile.

“Are you going to take a shower?” You asked. Logan nodded and got up from the bed. “I’ll be right back.” He said as he left a kiss on your lips before disappearing into the bathroom.

You walked over to the left side of the bed and climbed onto it. You quickly covered yourself under the sheets while waiting for Logan.

After about fifteen minutes, Logan emerged from the bathroom in nothing but a towel which hung low on his hips.

You couldn’t help but stare at the man in front of you. Even with all the bruises on his torso, arms and shoulders, he still looked absolutely beautiful.

“Take a picture, it will last longer.” Logan said with a slight smirk as he grabbed a fresh pair of boxers out of the bag.

You rolled your eyes at his comment and watched how it was now your turn to stare at him as he dropped his towel to put on his boxers.

When he was done, he walked over to you and got into bed as well. “Can i hold you?” He asked softly as he turned to look at you.

You chuckled at the switch in his behavior before nodding. “Of course.” You smiled before letting yourself fall into his arms.

Logan immediately wrapped his arms around you while kissing your shoulder.

“Thank you for staying with me.” He whispered before closing his eyes.

“I’ll always stay with you.” You whispered back before closing your eyes as well, letting sleep fall over you as you snuggled closer to Logan.

🏷️: @twinky-wink @fidgetingbee @astarions-girl-dinner @layladestiny8 @captain039 @spideybv28 @littledebbieinabigworld @itsjenna2u @landlockedmermaid77 @hooomansstuff @strawberriezsweetie @littlemissoblivious @cherrybonbonss @allmyn1ghts @bluetimeombre @persiar9 @sometimesminsan @atrxidxs @evanpetersmood @reidsworld @batrensworld @believeyourgalaxy

If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know🫶

Also, i’ve seen a few people commenting things like predicting the ending, so now i have a question for all of you, i’ve already wrote every chapter except the last one, because i wasn’t sure of how to end it😭

We all know how it really ends for Logan but i was thinking of maybe changing that, what would you prefer? A happy ending or a sad ending? IF we go for the sad ending, i will write an epilogue with a sort of happy ending… Let me know in the comments what you prefer!

[supernovafics]

series masterlist | last part — next part

pairing: modern!college!steve harrington x fem!reader, bestfriend!eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 2.9k words

warnings: explicit language, nothing else really?

summary: your life goes back to normal— how things were before you knew steve— and it’s fine (or at least that’s what you keep telling yourself)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN | ❝𝒇𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆❞

Spring Semester 2017

“This is how villain origin stories are born,” Robin said with a loud sigh as she closed her laptop for the time being. “Apartment hunting. Why does this suck so much?”

“Because everything’s severely out of our price range,” You responded, looking up from your own laptop. “Also, there are barely any three-bedroom options.”

“And the ones that are available and in our budget are very shitty,” Vickie added and you nodded in agreement.

The three of you were sitting on the carpeted floor in your dorm room. Living together for the next school year had been jokingly and playfully talked about in the very early stages of your friendship with Robin, but then as the months passed, it settled into an idea that actually became serious; mainly because of how much sense it made. And then Robin introduced you to Vickie and another friendship, and roommate, was born. 

Eddie was also set as a fourth roommate for a bit, but then he told you that he and Chrissy decided to live together for junior year, so it became settled that it would only be you, Robin, and Vickie. Which sounded great, and you were already excited about it since you hated living alone, but the apartment-hunting part quickly proved to be a lot more of a nuisance than any of you had expected.

“Fuck it, let’s just do a four-bedroom, then,” Robin said, shrugging. “There are a bunch more options for those, anyway. Like, the one I showed you guys yesterday. That place was perfect.”

“Did I miss the moment when our fourth roommate magically appeared?” Vickie asked, a playful smile on her face. 

“We can easily find someone else in one of those, like, Facebook group things.”

“That’s honestly not a bad idea,” You responded, already going to pull up Facebook on your laptop. 

Robin smiled. “Thank you. I always have great ideas.”

Vickie gave her a look. “Do I need to mention the ‘donating blood to get concert ticket money’ idea you had a week ago?” 

“No, that’s okay. We don’t need to discuss that low point.” 

You were the one who showed them Talia’s posting on one of the “searching for roommates” groups. She seemed nice and interesting and both Robin and Vickie thought so too. The three of you put together a quick message— briefly introducing yourselves and that you were looking for a fourth roommate— and sent it.

“Okay, fourth roommate, check,” Robin said once you pressed send. “Now, we have to get the place that I showed you guys yesterday.”

You laughed a little. “Let’s wait until she actually says something, Rob.”  

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Spring Semester 2018

Initially, it felt equivalent to a family meeting. Well, more so what you imagined a family meeting would be like because the four of you never actually had to have one before. 

But then, it actually felt like you were giving some sort of speech or presentation because of the setup. Robin, Vickie, and Talia were on the couch and you were standing in front of the TV and explaining everything to them. 

You kept in most of the details— you and Steve agreeing to fake date, your feelings for Eddie being the reason behind it all, and how it was only meant to go until Spring Break. 

Aside from the fact that they all seemed shocked to learn that you had feelings for Eddie, their collective thought was that the entire relationship between you and Steve had seemed so real.

“We were just really good at faking,” Was your response to Vickie specifically saying how cute you two had looked together; especially during the one reality TV night where Steve came over and picked the show.

You remembered that night pretty well, but you didn’t remember any specific moments where you had felt as if you and he had to “play up” the relationship or lay the PDA on thick since Eddie wasn’t around that night, so you weren’t sure how that moment was considered a definingly cute one for the two of you. 

“Were you good at faking or was it not really fake?” Robin asked, giving you a certain look. 

“Definitely fake,” You didn’t hesitate to answer because you deliberately didn’t want to think about her question too deeply. “We’re not even really friends, and he just went on a date last night. Hence the Eddie punch.”

Eddie was still sleeping in your bed. When you got back from Steve’s place, you weren’t in the mood to wake him up or tell him to shift over and make room for you, so you spent the night on the couch. 

“Damn, it kinda sucks that we’re never gonna see him again. He was the only one that liked when I made the pumpkin cheesecake cookies,” Talia said.

Vickie laughed a bit. “The only reason we don’t like it is because that's clearly a Fall cookie, Tal, and it's Spring right now.” She then looked as if she thought of something. “Hey, but at least you won’t have to get stuck on a team with Eddie for game night anymore. We’re back to individual stuff or you being the referee.”

Talia smiled. “Thank you for reminding me.”

“Wait, that just made me remember something,” Robin started. “Guys, I need you to please hear me out on this one,” She paused for what seemed like dramatic effect. “I think it's time to bring back Monopoly.”

There was a collective groan that immediately filled the air upon hearing her suggestion. Monopoly was a near friendship-ending game for you all, and it was only meant to be played on the rarest of occasions; which actually meant never. 

You sat down on the small loveseat then, glad that the subject had been shifted and that your speech, mixed with a Q&A, was over. “Robin, why do you wanna ruin all of our friendships?”

She quickly shook her head. “Come on, it’s been months. We’re all much more mature and reasonable adults, and I doubt we’ll have any arguments like last time.” 

Before any of you could respond with any sort of rebuttal, your bedroom door opened and out walked a tired looking Eddie. 

“Somehow, I heard the mention of Monopoly and I’m here to immediately veto that suggestion.” 

Robin rolled her eyes at him. “Go back to sleep, Munson.”

The game night conversation continued, and from there, things were normal. And you didn’t mind the normalcy that your life settled back into over the next few days and then weeks— even though, at one point, the thought of it bothered you and you had missed a lot of the things that came along with fake dating Steve. Now you knew there was no point in missing any of it; in fact, it felt kind of dumb to. 

Your classes got more and more intense during the entire month of April, so there wasn’t that much time to think about Steve or wonder what he was up to. However, the moments you did think of him surprisingly hit hard. 

When you all ended up playing Monopoly at game night, after Robin’s many begs and pleads, you thought about Steve and how different things would’ve been if he was there. You imagined him as a pretty competitive Monopoly player, and felt almost certain that he would’ve either had the biggest rivalry with Robin or formed some sort of alliance with her; she was the one that actually ended up winning after an intense and exhausting seven hours of playing that night. You wished that he could’ve been there. 

And then there were the reminders of him that were left around— his t-shirt that you’d never gotten around to giving back to him, his sunglasses that you didn’t realize you’d stolen until you were finally finishing unpacking your stuff from the Mexico trip, and the bear that he got you for Valentine’s Day that you refused to ever get rid of, but you eventually stuffed Hartford away in your closet instead of leaving him on your desk to make things feel easier. 

Anytime one of those moments happened where you randomly thought about him, you immediately reminded yourself of the rule and simply buried yourself further in whatever school assignment you needed to focus on, or made abrupt plans with Eddie, Robin, Vickie, or Talia. 

It was late in the month when Talia wanted to set you up with a guy from one of her classes, who she claimed would be “perfect for you.” Initially, you were hesitant— more so leaning toward no than yes— but he had the Talia stamp of approval, so you let it happen. She gave him your number and there were a handful of text messages shared between you two that led to a museum date a week later. 

It wasn’t terrible. But, your heart wasn’t in it at all, and neither was your head most of the time. And by the end of it, more specifically as you were in the elevator headed back up to your apartment, you realized that you probably wouldn’t see him again. 

When you walked into the apartment, you spotted Talia in the kitchen and the entire apartment smelled amazing; which, of course, didn’t surprise you at all.

“Hey, what are you making?” You asked as you pulled off your jacket and hung it on one of the empty hooks next to the door. 

“I got bored, so I decided to do a quick roasted chicken. It’s in the oven now,” She said, shrugging as if that was entirely normal. It would never not amuse you how her boredom would always spur on elaborate meals. “So, how was the date?”

“It was fine. Good, actually,” You answered after the briefest moment of hesitation. “He was pretty cool and we had a lot in common and stuff. But, I don’t know… It just didn’t feel right, I guess. My head was in a different place a lot of the time. Thinking about other stuff.”

“About Steve?”

Hearing her say that, surprised you. “What? No. I haven’t talked to him in like a month.” 

She gave you a quick shrug. “That doesn’t mean that you can’t think about him.” 

“I guess that’s true, but I haven’t really thought about him,” You said. It was a small lie that you were okay with telling because you didn’t want to admit or even ponder what it meant that you did think about and were so easily reminded of him sometimes. 

“I’m kind of surprised that you two aren’t friends or something,” She told you as she went to grab something from the fridge. “I don’t think I could do a whole fake dating thing with someone and not, at least, be friends with them after it.”

You leaned back against the counter. “We came up with a bunch of rules when we started it, and that was one of them.”

“To not be friends after?”

“Not exactly that, but pretty much, yeah. The rule was to go our separate ways once the fake dating was done,” You shrugged. “Becoming friends was the last thing on both of our minds when we came up with that since we were basically strangers at the beginning of this. And when we were ending things, we both knew that it would be impossible to be friends after because of all of the lies that started this.” 

She looked at you then. “But we all know the truth now, though. So you two could be friends and none of us would question it.” 

Talia’s words made complete sense and they were something that you should’ve realized and thought about a lot earlier than this moment. You were quiet for what felt like forever because you didn’t know what to say in response. Your immediate reaction was to still say no, you couldn’t be friends with him, but if she followed up and asked why, you knew that you wouldn’t have an answer. 

When the oven started beeping, it felt like a very “saved by the bell” kind of moment. Talia pulled out the chicken from the oven and let the conversation shift from there. “You got back from your date just in time, by the way. You wanna try this?” 

“Of course, I’ll never turn down anything you make.”

You went to your room first to change out of your date outfit and put on some pajamas instead and then you joined Talia back in the kitchen. The chicken was quite literally perfect, which didn’t surprise you, and you retreated to your room for the night after you finished eating, while Talia put on a documentary that she had to watch for one of her psychology classes. 

As much as you tried to focus on anything else as you lay in your bed, you inadvertently spent the rest of the night thinking about Steve— it was too hard not to. 

You thought about every moment that you had been reminded of him over the past month— how it hadn’t felt like much at first, but when you thought about it all at once, it was a lot. You also thought about what Talia said and why you and he weren’t friends even though it was pretty obvious that you should be— what else could explain why you both had prolonged and dragged out the conversation in his car the night you two “broke up”? Neither of you had wanted to let the inevitable happen. 

All of this was about more than just following the rule to you. Of course, it was about more than just that. 

Deep down you knew exactly why you couldn’t listen to what Talia said— why you couldn’t text him, go to his place, or do anything else to lean into that short-lived friendship you two had that you actually had a feeling was still there— but right then you refused to admit it. 

Instead, you grabbed your phone and put on a random podcast just so you could use the noise to drown out your thoughts and force yourself to fall asleep.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

It wasn’t until a few days before finals that you thought about Steve again. It was kind of hard not to because you ran right into him— or more so tripped over him. 

The campus library during the week before finals week was probably one of the worst places to be, but you were in a last-second search for a book that you needed to do an essay on and you refused to buy it online because, for some reason, it was way too expensive.

Your eyes were trained solely on the spines of books as you searched for the one in particular when you tripped over something in the middle of the aisle. It wasn’t a full-on fall, just a very awkward stumble, but it somehow felt just as embarrassing. 

You let out an abrupt yelp in the middle of your stumble and heard a voice before you even got to see what caused you to trip. “Oh, fuck, I’m sorry.” 

You recognized Steve’s voice immediately and it sent a surprised jolt through you as you turned to look at him. He was leaned back against the long bookshelf with his legs stretched out and there was a textbook opened in his lap. He must’ve just been sleeping because you saw him rub his eyes and let out a quick yawn.

He looked up at you as he crossed his legs under him instead of having them stretched out in the aisle. He seemed as if he was surprised to see you too, but from the look on his face, you could tell that he saw it as a good surprise; you weren’t sure if you could say the same just yet. “Shit, now I feel worse knowing that I just did that to you.”

That got the smallest smile out of you. “Yes, you should feel a thousand times worse for almost ending my life.”

“I’m sorry.” 

“Why are you sleeping here?” You asked. Both of you were keeping your voices low because you were on one of the quieter floors of the library. 

He shook his head. “I’m not sleeping. I was taking a break from studying for a test and just resting my eyes for a second.” 

“So sleeping?”

“A very brief nap,” He corrected.

“Ah, okay, got it,” You nodded, words coming out completely sarcastic. “Sorry for interrupting your very brief nap then.”

“Sorry for almost killing you.”

“Thank you.”

You knew that you should’ve let the brief conversation end there. You should’ve looked away from him then and continued searching for the book you needed to find. But, you didn’t. 

Instead, after the briefest moment of lingering silence between you two, you sat down across from Steve. The book and the essay that you needed to work on became the farthest things from your mind for the time being.

You didn’t have the strongest grasp on what you were doing right then and why you were doing any of it, but you decided not to question it. Instead, you simply did what felt good in the moment. 

You leaned back against the bookshelf opposite Steve and crossed your legs as well. “Hi.” 

He gave you a questioning look at first— maybe he was also expecting the conversation to end in that previous spot; like it would’ve with any other two people who weren’t really friends that had just randomly bumped into each other. 

But then, he was smiling, a genuine Steve Harrington smile that felt really nice to see. “Hey.” 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

a/n: ….. i'm sorry for the cliffhanger !!!!

next part!

taglist (lmk if you want to be added or taken off<333); @eddiernunson , @loulouloueh , @the-aster , @blckburd , @totally-bogus-timelady , @yujyujj , @irhdifartzamfyaa , @mochminnie , @munsonssweets , @blckbrrybasket , @xprloki , @definitionwanderlust , @dwcode , @sun-fiower-seed , @keerysfolklore , @damon-loves-pie , @lodeddiperrodrick , @bisexual-and-intellectual , @munsonburn3r , @negomi123 , @khena , @facexthexsunshine , @seatbacksandtraytables , @suckerfordylansstuff

(if your user is crossed out it means i can’t tag you</3)

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Fintech bullies stole your kid’s lunch money

I'm coming to DEFCON! On Aug 9, I'm emceeing the EFF POKER TOURNAMENT (noon at the Horseshoe Poker Room), and appearing on the BRICKED AND ABANDONED panel (5PM, LVCC - L1 - HW1–11–01). On Aug 10, I'm giving a keynote called "DISENSHITTIFY OR DIE! How hackers can seize the means of computation and build a new, good internet that is hardened against our asshole bosses' insatiable horniness for enshittification" (noon, LVCC - L1 - HW1–11–01).

Three companies control the market for school lunch payments. They take as much as 60 cents out of every dollar poor kids' parents put into the system to the tune of $100m/year. They're literally stealing poor kids' lunch money.

In its latest report, the Consumer Finance Protection Bureau describes this scam in eye-watering, blood-boiling detail:

https://files.consumerfinance.gov/f/documents/cfpb_costs-of-electronic-payment-in-k-12-schools-issue-spotlight_2024-07.pdf

The report samples 16.7m K-12 students in 25k schools. It finds that schools are racing to go cashless, with 87% contracting with payment processors to handle cafeteria transactions. Three processors dominate the sector: Myschoolbucks, Schoolcafé, and Linq Connect.

These aren't credit card processors (most students don't have credit cards). Instead, they let kids set up an account, like a prison commissary account, that their families load up with cash. And, as with prison commissary accounts, every time a loved one adds cash to the account, the processor takes a giant whack out of them with junk fees:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/14/minnesota-nice/#shitty-technology-adoption-curve

If you're the parent of a kid who is eligible for a reduced-price lunch (that is, if you are poor), then about 60% of the money you put into your kid's account is gobbled up by these payment processors in service charges.

It's expensive to be poor, and this is no exception. If your kid doesn't qualify for the lunch subsidy, you're only paying about 8% in service charges (which is still triple the rate charged by credit card companies for payment processing).

The disparity is down to how these charges are calculated. The payment processors charge a flat fee for every top-up, and poor families can't afford to minimize these fees by making a single payment at the start of the year or semester. Instead, they pay small sums every payday, meaning they pay the fee twice per month (or even more frequently).

Not only is the sector concentrated into three companies, neither school districts nor parents have any meaningful way to shop around. For school districts, payment processing is usually bundled in with other school services, like student data management and HR data handling. For parents, there's no way to choose a different payment processor – you have to go with the one the school district has chosen.

This is all illegal. The USDA – which provides and regulates – the reduced cost lunch program, bans schools from charging fees to receive its meals. Under USDA regs, schools must allow kids to pay cash, or to top up their accounts with cash at the school, without any fees. The USDA has repeatedly (2014, 2017) published these rules.

Despite this, many schools refuse to handle cash, citing safety and security, and even when schools do accept cash or checks, they often fail to advertise this fact.

The USDA also requires schools to publish the fees charged by processors, but most of the districts in the study violate this requirement. Where schools do publish fees, we see a per-transaction charge of up to $3.25 for an ACH transfer that costs $0.26-0.50, or 4.58% for a debit/credit-card transaction that costs 1.5%. On top of this, many payment processors charge a one-time fee to enroll a student in the program and "convenience fees" to transfer funds between siblings' accounts. They also set maximum fees that make it hard to avoid paying multiple charges through the year.

These are classic junk fees. As Matt Stoller puts it: "'Convenience fees' that aren't convenient and 'service fees' without any service." Another way in which these fit the definition of junk fees: they are calculated at the end of the transaction, and not advertised up front.

Like all junk fee companies, school payment processors make it extremely hard to cancel an automatic recurring payment, and have innumerable hurdles to getting a refund, which takes an age to arrive.

Now, there are many agencies that could have compiled this report (the USDA, for one), and it could just as easily have come from an academic or a journalist. But it didn't – it came from the CFPB, and that matters, because the CFPB has the means, motive and opportunity to do something about this.

The CFPB has emerged as a powerhouse of a regulator, doing things that materially and profoundly benefit average Americans. During the lockdowns, they were the ones who took on scumbag landlords who violated the ban on evictions:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/20/euthanize-rentier-enablers/#cfpb

They went after "Earned Wage Access" programs where your boss colludes with payday lenders to trap you in debt at 300% APR:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/01/usury/#tech-exceptionalism

They are forcing the banks to let you move your account (along with all your payment history, stored payees, automatic payments, etc) with one click – and they're standing up a site that will analyze your account data and tell you which bank will give you the best deal:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/21/let-my-dollars-go/#personal-financial-data-rights

They're going after "buy now, pay later" companies that flout borrower protection rules, making a rogues' gallery of repeat corporate criminals, banning fine-print gotcha clauses, and they're doing it all in the wake of a 7-2 Supreme Court decision that affirmed their power to do so:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/10/getting-things-done/#deliverism

The CFPB can – and will – do something to protect America's poorest parents from having $100m of their kids' lunch money stolen by three giant fintech companies. But whether they'll continue to do so under a Kamala Harris administration is an open question. While Harris has repeatedly talked up the ways that Biden's CFPB, the DOJ Antitrust Division, and FTC have gone after corporate abuses, some of her largest donors are demanding that her administration fire the heads of these agencies and crush their agenda:

https://prospect.org/power/2024-07-26-corporate-wishcasting-attack-lina-khan/

Tens of millions of dollars have been donated to Harris' campaign and PACs that support her by billionaires like Reid Hoffman, who says that FTC Chair Lina Khan is "waging war on American business":

https://prospect.org/power/2024-07-26-corporate-wishcasting-attack-lina-khan/

Some of the richest Democrat donors told the Financial Times that their donations were contingent on Harris firing Khan and that they'd been assured this would happen:

https://archive.is/k7tUY

This would be a disaster – for America, and for Harris's election prospects – and one hopes that Harris and her advisors know it. Writing in his "How Things Work" newsletter today, Hamilton Nolan makes the case that labor unions should publicly declare that they support the FTC, the CFPB and the DOJ's antitrust efforts:

https://www.hamiltonnolan.com/p/unions-and-antitrust-are-peanut-butter

Don’t want huge companies and their idiot billionaire bosses to run the world? Break them up, and unionize them. It’s the best program we have.

Perhaps you've heard that antitrust is anti-worker. It's true that antitrust law has been used to attack labor organizing, but that has always been in spite of the letter of the law. Indeed, the legislative history of US antitrust law is Congress repeatedly passing law after law explaining that antitrust "aims at dollars, not men":

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/14/aiming-at-dollars/#not-men

The Democrats need to be more than The Party of Not Trump. To succeed – as a party and as a force for a future for Americans – they have to be the party that defends us – workers, parents, kids and retirees alike – from corporate predation.

Support me this summer on the Clarion Write-A-Thon and help raise money for the Clarion Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers' Workshop!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/07/26/taanstafl/#stay-hungry

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[thealbatrovss]

wind song // logan(2017) x fem mutant reader

(mini series)

synopsis : you dream of a life without your powers. logan needs them to help locate some dead guys cash. a roadtrip to the Nevada desert with your ex was always bound to be a mistake. but, maybe it wasn’t.

Chapter 1 - blood money

chapter summary: after breaking up over a year ago, you reunite with logan at a diner in Texas. he needs a favor.

warnings: 18+ ONLY // MDNI - suggestive content, mature themes/subject matters, death, swearing, eventual violence and smut.

word count: 2k+

wind song masterlist // my other masterlist

The coffee was burnt. You pretended to like it that way.

The white mug was too hot to hold with your hands, so you opted for a straw instead. You found it in the corner of the booth. That earned some stares from the old couple eating lunch a few tables over and your waitress.

“That’s gonna melt the plastic right into your drink, you know?” Her Texan accent wasn’t as thick as the other waiters. There was red lipstick on her teeth. “Just wait for it to cool down.”

You picked the plastic tube from the liquid, inspecting it. It was still intact. “Looks fine to me.” And you popped it back in. There were sugar packets on the table. They reminded you of pixie sticks. You started to feel nauseous.

The lady shook her head, putting her notepad with your orders away. “Whatever gets you through the day.” And she left to go get your food. Or complain to her coworkers about the woman melting plastic instead of sugar into her coffee.

You wanted to drink it like normal. But you’d used a similar cup like this before to solve a case a few months back. It just didn’t feel right. Objects never did after they helped you locate the missing person. Another strange aspect of your powers. It’s like the people lived on through their things.

You could see his car pulling in through the driveway. He was right on time. Like always.

All kinds of emotions were running through you. You’d just arrived here out of state for a funeral. You were still wearing the black dress from attending this morning. Logan had called as you debated in your car whether to attend the after-services or not. Guess you got your answer. But it was still a surprising one.

You hadn’t seen or heard from him in over a year. Not since the incident.

The front doors opened, and the bell rang to let everyone know. You sat up a little straighter, nervous fingers folded in your lap.

Logan seemed to bring down the entire room as soon as he walked in. He wore a white tank top, with a white button-up over it. His black suit jacket was covered in specks of dirt and dust. His beard was a lot fuller now, his hair a bit shorter. Both growing gray. It glistened with the beads of something that smelled like moonshine.

For the first time in your life, you could see his age catching up to him. And the exhaustion. It was written on the bags underneath his eyes. In the way he held his aching knuckles to his chest, staring at where his claws hid.

He took a quick swig from his flask, ignoring the waiter's glare from behind the main counter. He was looking for you, drink still in hand.

You let him find you.

“Nice dress.” He started with. Your heart rate increased. You bit the inside of your lip. He still had that gravitational pull that made people want to either run and hide or get closer to him. He slid into the booth across from you. The sugar packets made shaking noises. He left his flask out on the table. “What’s the occasion?”

Your hands played with the black fabric ending at your knees. “Funeral.”

Logan nodded his head in understanding. He took out his glasses, looking at one of the menus.

“Oh, I’ve ordered already.”

“And I’m hungry as shit.”

“I ordered for you.” You emphasized.

Logan paused, staring at a picture of a salad. His eyes peeked out over the menu. “The usual?”

You nodded, swirling the straw around in the cooling cup of coffee. “Most places have what you like.”

He removed his glasses, rubbing at the irritated spot on his nose. “Next time, let me get my own tab.”

When she returned with the food, you ate in silence.

Logan stuffed a plate of sausages in his mouth before finishing attacking the eggs. He occasionally reached for his flask, like it was something he had ordered.

You didn’t feel like eating. The sugar was grinding in your ears. You’d have to take this sandwich to go. The coffee was going cold now.

“So,” you started. You were suddenly aware of how sticky the seat was beneath you. “Why did you call?”

“Why did you answer?” He kept eating. His fork made noises when it hit the plate.

You thought about the weeping mother and the small casket. “Well, it was either this or dwell on my last case. And I’d rather talk with an old friend than think about any of that.”

He stopped chewing, swallowing hard. “Well, then you’re not going to like what I have to say.”

Your brows knitted. You leaned back against the headboard. “I’m listening.”

Your ex took another shot of the hard alcohol. It was still the afternoon. But alcohol didn’t have the same effect on him as it did on other people. His abilities wouldn’t allow it. But it was still a problem.

He stuffed the flask back in his shirt pocket, only after it was empty. “I’ll make it short. A client of mine owes me a lot of fucking money.”

You crossed your arms. “How much?”

He put up five fingers. You remembered how they used to squeeze your hand in comfort. Sometimes they’d wipe away your tears. Other times they gripped your thighs and pulled you closer.

It was bittersweet. Those sweet and intimate memories. Even as the world continued to go to shit and mutants became less and less, you still had each other. Until something took that all away. You could recall the whistle ringing from your lips. Your cheeks were cold during the early days of fall. Logan was yelling about how you should’ve seen this coming. But he knew how your abilities worked. They didn’t work on the living.

“5,000?” You guessed.

“50,000.” He corrected.

Your jaw dropped. “Jesus. Were you his chauffeur or were you sleeping with him?”

He smiled. It was a weak one but it was still there. If you weren’t so used to it you would’ve missed it. “Look, he was a rich asshole who promised me a big tip. That's all.”

“That’s not a tip. That’s my salary.”

Logan set his utensils down after taking one last bite. “Then you need a fucking raise.”

“Or a new profession.” You joked. But it came out flat.

Being a private detective could’ve been a more fulfilling job. If it wasn’t for the fact that your mutant gene gave you the ability to track any person or creature. But only if they were dead.

You’ve worn this dress too many times to too many funerals.

Logan seemed like he was fighting with himself, whether to respond to that confession or not. He didn’t. Instead, he pulled out a fancy fountain pen from his jacket. “This is all I have of his.” He placed it on the table in front of you. “Will this be enough?”

You wanted to roll your eyes. “I haven’t even agreed to anything yet. What makes you think he’s dead in the first place?”

“Because, when he called saying he had the money, I heard gunshots. Then the phone went out. It’s been three weeks.”

“And no one’s reported him missing?” That was odd.

“Nope.” He looked from your eyes to your lips. “He never even told me where he was. I think he was out of state. And before you ask, yes, I already tried to trace the call. Nothing.”

The waitress came by, handing you a to-go box and whisked away his empty plates. Her eyes lingered noticeably longer on Logan as she walked back into the kitchen.

You continued your questioning. “Does he have any family? Maybe they know where he is.”

“No. He told me he was an only child. Parents died by the time he was 40. No other living relatives. People say a lot of shit when they’re drunk in the back of a car. Or just damn lonely.” His hand instinctively went to rest on the flask in his pocket. He motioned towards the pen. “If you need more than this, I can get it.”

You hesitated to pick it up. “You know how much I hate doing this.”

“I know.” He licked his lips, leaning towards you. “Yet, you’re still looking for people.”

It was true.

As much as you hated your powers, as much as they hurt; they could be used to help. Even if that meant only ever bringing people back to their families dead instead of alive.

A quote from your old Professor echoed in your mind. From a time long lost in the unforgiving hands of time and a powerful mind.

“Sometimes, doing the right thing can hurt you. But, it can give peace to the ones that you’re helping. What you give up, you give away. For good or for evil, now that’s up to you.”

You shut your eyes and took a deep breath. An old friend was asking for your help. But would he do the same for you? There was a time when you would’ve never doubted it. You hated yourself for that.

The pen felt icy in your hands. Maybe Logan was right. Maybe he was dead. You could already feel something beating through the object. It didn’t feel alive. “When do we start?”

A glimmer of light radiated off of Logan’s rugged face. For a moment there, it was like he was his old self again. The light flickered out just as quickly as it came. “Tomorrow morning. 8 am. I’ll pick you up.” He placed a 20-dollar bill next to your half-empty coffee cup.

You stared at the dead man on the paper. “I’ve already paid.”

“This is for the tip.” He stood, a slight uneasiness in his steps. He seemed so tired.

Were his regenerative powers still getting worse?

He paused before heading out, messing with the cuff of his sleeves. “Don't worry. I’ll make sure you get paid for this.”

I don’t want your damn money. I want to be rid of this haunting.

You let him think you were deep in thought. You tapped your chin. “I’ll take 60%.”

Logan put a hand on his hip. He sighed. “Now don’t piss me off.”

You rolled your eyes. “Would never dream of doing that.” You packed your untouched sandwich away in the box.

Logan cursed under his breath. It sounded like he was muttering between fuck it and fines. When he left the small diner the room felt lighter again.

You watched him drop his keys in the parking lot and stomped them further into the Texas dirt.

“See, I told you!” You turned to your waitress who was pointing at your cup. The plastic was starting to crinkle and melt. You could see it poking out from the brim of the liquid. “Next time, just drink the damn thing normally.”

I would if I could.

Logan was already gone by the time you looked back out the window. The sugar packets shook as you stood to leave. The cup rattled. The pen pulsed in your hands. Like it was trying to mimic a heartbeat it no longer had. You could feel your powers radiating through the objects.

That night you played with the lamentation on the corner of a photo.

Your motel room was small but surprisingly homely. There was a TV playing at full volume in the room next door. It kept you awake. Sounded like an action movie. It seemed to go on forever.

The photo was of you and Logan. You still kept it in your wallet. It was hidden behind old coupons and a stick of gum. Sometimes you forget it was even there. Most of the time you self soothed by peeling off the lamentation from the corners. The sides looked like the melting straw in your cup of coffee.

It was 9 pm. You ate most of your sandwich. A corner piece sat in the to-go box on your bed. Someone finally shut the TV off. A dog was barking in the parking lot. Cigarette smoke hugged the air. You put the photo back into your wallet, this time behind your credit card.

“Logan’s phone.” You heard Caliban's voice sing through the line. “Sometimes mine if he lets me use it.”

It was nice to hear from him again. A tracker similar to you but only with mutants. He was always mesmerized by how your powers worked. He used to show you the sketches of the figures you blew into the wind when you whistled. You wondered if he still kept those drawings.

“Hey. It’s me.”

“I know. He’s still got your contact name in his phone.”

You smiled a little. “Is he there?”

“He’s working. Some bachelor party, I think. He’s probably pissed he left his phone here.”

You looked at the fountain pen sitting on the nightstand. “When he gets back, could you tell him we’re headed to Nevada.”

“Nevada? What the hell are you two going to do up there?” He paused for a brief moment as if he just remembered. “Oh yeah. The blood money.”

“Did he promise you a cut too?”

He let out a laugh. “Logan can hardly part with a 5-dollar bill these days. I’ll probably get paid shit for watching Charles while you two go off getting married in some shitty casino or something.”

“It’s just a business trip. Nothing more.”

“We’ll have to agree to disagree on that one, my friend.”

There was a storm happening outside. The wind howled like a river of ghosts against the motel walls. You thought you heard old teammates and friends whispering in it.

A cough came from the other line. “By the way, if you come across a Vegas snow globe, I’d very much like to add it to my collection.”

“Sure.” The howling outside continued. “Take care, Caliban.”

“You don’t want to ask how Charles is doing?”

You took a sharp inhale. You didn’t need to ask. You knew exactly how he was doing. And you didn’t want to talk about him right now. Maybe some other time. You kept putting it off. You’d deal with that guilt another time.

“I’ll get you that snow globe.” And you hung up.

You fell asleep, still wearing that black dress.

[southernmermaidsgrotto]

Hoodoo, Rootwork and Conjure sources by Black Authors

Because you should only ever be learning your ancestral ways from kinfolk. Here's a compilation of some books, videos and podcast episodes I recommend reading and listening to, on customs, traditions, folk tales, songs, spirits and history. As always, use your own critical thinking and spiritual discernment when approaching these sources as with any others.

Hoodoo in America by Zora Neale Hurston (1931)

Mules and Men by Zora Neale Hurston (1936)

Tell my horse by Zora Neale Hurston (1938)

Let Nobody Turn Us Around: An African American Anthology by Manning Marable and Leith Mullings, editors (2003)

Black Magic: Religion and the African American Conjuring Tradition by Yvonne P. Chireau (2006)

African American Folk Healing by Stephanie Mitchem (2007)

Hoodoo Medicine: Gullah Herbal Remedies by Faith Mitchell (2011)

Mojo Workin': The Old African American Hoodoo System by Katrina Hazzard-Donald (2012)

Rootwork: Using the Folk Magick of Black America for Love, Money and Success by Tayannah Lee McQuillar (2012)

Talking to the Dead: Religion, Music, and Lived Memory among Gullah/Geechee Women by LeRhonda S. Manigault-Bryant (2014)

Working the Roots: Over 400 Years Of Traditional African American Healing by Michele Elizabeth Lee (2017)

Barracoon: The Story of the Last "Black Cargo" by Zora Neale Hurston (2018)

Jambalaya: The Natural Woman's Book of Personal Charms and Practical Rituals by Luisa Teish (2021)

African American Herbalism: A Practical Guide to Healing Plants and Folk Traditions by Lucretia VanDyke (2022)

These are just some suggestions but there's many many more!! This is by no means a complete list.

I recommend to avoid authors who downplay the importance of black history or straight out deny how blackness is central to hoodoo. The magic, power and ashé is in the culture and bloodline. You can't separate it from the people. I also recommend avoiding or at the very least taking with a huge grain of salt authors with ties to known appropriators and marketeers, and anyone who propagates revisionist history or rather denies historical facts and spreads harmful conspiracy theories. Sadly, that includes some black authors, particularly those who learnt from, and even praise, white appropriators undermining hoodoo and other african and african diasporic traditions. Be careful who you get your information from. Keeping things traditional means honoring real history and truth.

Let me also give you a last but very important reminder: the best teachings you'll ever get are going to come from the mouths of your own blood. Not a book or anything on the internet. They may choose to put certain people and things in your path to help you or point you in the right direction, but each lineage is different and you have to honor your own. Talk to your family members, to the Elders in your community, learn your genealogy, divine before moving forwards, talk to your dead, acknowledge your people and they'll acknowledge you and guide you to where you need to be.

May this be of service and may your ancestors and spirits bless you and yours 🕯️💀

[luminalunii97]

Civil disobedience, act 4: art and symbols

Demonstration art could be one of the most powerful ways to convey your message. Iranians have been making art all over the cities these days.

Painting the city with blood: Putting red color in water bodies around the city. throwing red color at street signs specially those that reads Velayat (supreme leading system), hijab, and Kurdistan. putting red blood on pictures of Khamenei, Ghasem Soleimani, and police or judiciary signs. Coloring the university classes and corridors with red. One art classroom door in Alzahra university read "this classroom is covered in blood". These red colors represent the blood the regime has shed.

Pictures on the walls: Faces of our fallen martyrs. Anti regime pictures. They read: "you kill our love, you are our ISIS" "women life freedom" "women of Iran and Afghanistan against the violence of Talib and mullah" "fuck compulsory hijab" "from 2017 to 2022 this regime would fall like dominos" "ambu-lice (ambulances are being used to move policemen)". A religious figure hide behind religion playing his anti riot forces. On an alley named Azadi (freedom) someone has written "there was so much bravery hidden in this land".

(It's important to know that in Iran, mullahs don't represent religion as much as they represent the regime. For 40 years the turbans have been the heads of political powers. Most of those mullah pictures are directly targeting Khamenei the supreme leader)

Slogans on paper money: these ones say "women life freedom" "queer life freedom" "Baloch life freedom".

Khodanoor Lejei, symbol of the islamic republic cruelty: The bloody Friday in Zahedan was one of the darkest spots in Islamic republic brutal history. Opening fire on a crowd of praying Muslims before they even start protesting. Killing about 100 people of Baloch. But one picture stood out and stood as the face of inhumanity of the regime. Khodanoor Lejei was one of the victims of bloody Friday in Zahedan. An old picture of him went viral after his death. He was arrested a couple of months prior to Mahsa Amini murder and was treated with no dignity. Bound to a pole. water in front of his thirsty body but out of his reach. So in universities, sport games, streets and alleys people have been posing Khodanoor in bound to protest the cruelty. In the last two pictures, the signs read "political" (سیاسی) and "justice" (عدالت)!

Students sing revolution anthems. Artists make digital arts. Musicians make revolution songs. People dance and the security forces attack and arrest them.

There have been balloons flying over the cities with banners containing slogans on them. There have been banners on footbridges situated so that drivers would see them. People also have been writing slogans on billboards especially those that promote regime propaganda.

Azad university art students gathered in their campus, painted their palms red and raised their hands to the sky.

Meanwhile the regime forces broke into dormitories and stole students.

Some universities including mine design their campus trees and buildings with names of the murdered protesters or captured students and other revolution symbols (red tulip represents martyrs in Persian literature). The uni authorities take them down but the art students do it again.

After Kian Pirfalak, all over the country you could find paper boats and rainbows. Kian was a 10 year old boy who was murdered by the regime. There's a video of him starting with "in the name of the god of the rainbow" and continuing to explain his crafted boat. He wanted to become an engineer. Now paper boats are banned in universities.

One of the murdered protesters, Hamidreza Rouhi, loved riding motorcycles. He had a video online of him on a motorbike lip syncing to a song and pointing to the camera. A group of motorbike riders in Tehran, 7 day after his murder, gathered in front of his house, their motorbikes lined nearby, with pictures of him on each bike.

And in a recent symbolic act, a woman walked around Tehran streets as The Handmaid's Tale cosplayer. Very on point.

Don't think for a second that these civil ways of protesting are safe or easy. People have been arrested or shot in the head doing these.

People are capable of beauties but the regime can only make ugliness. That's the summary of this revolution.

[bitchesgetriches]

(tw periods) does anyone have tips for working while you have extremely painful-to the point it's debilitating-periods?

Oh my sweet baby I'm so sorry you're going through this. Bitch Nation: what are your words of wisdom for this darling baby bitchling with debilitating periods?

When I was in college, I once had period pain so bad that I literally couldn't make it from my classroom building across the park to my dorm without stopping multiple times to sit down and gasp for air. It was awful. I went to the doctor, who suggested hormonal birth control. After I got on the pill, my periods became FAR less painful.

I stopped having periods altogether about 12 years ago because of my birth control method (I'm 37 and have had an IUD since January 2017). The important thing is to consult a doctor. Here's more:

Blood Money: Menstrual Products for Surviving Your Period While Poor

Did we just help you out? Join our Patreon!

[barksenji]

I posted this on reddit, but I've seen some gnarly posts about Venezuela here, so I'll post it here too.

"I'll try to answer all of them. I don't know if I can explain like you're 5 because I'm autistic af and English is not my first language, but I hope I can make myself understood.

I condemn practically everything about the government. In Venezuela, on average, only four out of 10 operating rooms in the country's main hospitals are operative, and the shortage of supplies in emergency rooms is around 37%, while in operating rooms it reaches 74%. As for my own experience, I have Classical Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, I had a shoulder subluxation and I still do, and I went to the Victorino Santaella hospital in my country, there's little personnel, to the point that in the area for traumatology you could see dry blood on the floor because there just wasn't enough people to clean it up. Not a little bit of blood, but a lot. If you want decent medical attention, you will have to pay a bunch of money.

I had a strangulated umbilical hernia, which again, is something that commonly happens with the EDS. My dad had to spend 4000$ dollars on the operation, which for us, is a unachievable amount of money. He had to sell his car, and beg his job for the rest of the money, because the car was old asf and only covered about 200$.

Many people say the government is progressive, it is not. In Venezuela the LGBTQ community has absolutely no rights, it's incredibly difficult for trans people to change their documents or access hormonal treatment. Abortion is not legal here, not even in rape cases, gay marriage isn't legal either, and domestic violence largely goes unpunished.

The minimum wage is around 3 dollars, my dad works in transit so he earns minimum wage, because I have so many medical emergencies he has to make illegal driving licenses in order for me to get treatment. It is incredibly hard for my mom to find a job.

If you want an overview of the whole political situation, this thread can explain it better than I can:

This also explains many of the faults with the government, really, there are too many, I can't count them all.

There’s also no freedom of speech in Venezuela due to Nicolas Maduro’s oppression. All the news channels that are available are on his side. CNNE was removed from Venezuela after doing a documentary on Maduro and also was DW. Our only way to inform ourselves are socials, and most venezuelans are speaking through there.

Maduro's government is not a socialist government anymore, it paints itself that way to outsiders, but it is not. Money that should be going to public institutions is not going to those institutions, hence why the hospitals are in such dire state and you have to pay for private clinics in order to get appropriate care. I don't know if you're familiar with the CLAP bags, The Local Supply and Production Committees (CLAP) is a distribution program of some basic imported foodstuffs promoted by the Venezuelan government since 2016 in which the communities themselves organized in committees supply and distribute priority foods through a modality of delivery of products, house by house at first, later distributed in a local of the community. The problem with these is that they're frequently infected with weevils, maggots, and even if they look "good" on the outside, they can be infected with bacteria and give you food poisoning. Worse is, some people are entirely reliant on these.

They're supposed to protect our indigenous people, but a Venezuelan indigenous leader who opposed the incursion of armed groups and illegal mining was shot twice while in a neighborhood in the capital of Amazonas state. Maduro is also the richest man in Venezuela.

In the protests that occurred in 2017, around 150 people died thanks to the armed forces and colectivos (paramilitaries on the side of the government), police came out with tanks (idk the name exactly in English) and ran over people who were peacefully protesting. Right now, I believe there has been 11 people confirmed injured, though there's probably more, since hospitals are asking for resources to treat the injured.

I think most of these payment methods are only available in Venezuela, but I saw a Paypal here and there, if you can help I'd thank you so much:

As for the self-sufficiency, I don't know. As I said, I'm 17 and heavily reliant on my parents. This country's also really not accessible for disabled people, I cannot go down stairs and have to walk with a cane, there's rarely a place where elevators are functioning properly: ironically, especially in hospitals. In the hospital Victorino Santaella, my dad has to carry me through a bunch of stairs, he has a bunch of hernias in his back so that's obviously no good for him. I'm also at heavy risk of fainting, so yeah.

Also: I don't know how the housing situation is in Venezuela statistic-wise, but for the young adults, is impossible to get a house. Houses can cost up to 100.000$ and more, the average job will pay enough for you to eat, buy toilet paper, basic needs and that's about it.

My friends, who were studying university, couldn't finish cause they had to get a job in a supermarket or bakery in order to be able to support their parent economically. It's horrible.

We also have no running water, when we do it's brown, our power goes off all the time and I have no health insurance"

Do I support María Corina? Or the opposition? I'm skeptical about them, they're still politicians, and Machado is a Zionist. I'm worried about idolizing these figures, deeply. But there's no alternative guys.

For gringos saying that we are supporting fascists, and whatnot. We have literally no other option. This didn't start with US sanctions, it just got WORSE with them. But these sanctions are a symptom, not the root of our problem.

Please, listen to venezuelan voices. If you're really a leftist, just a bit of research will be enough to convince you that this is NOT even a socialist government anymore.

[angellesword]

BAGGAGE | JJK (06)

Summary: Drowning in debt and blood, Jeon Jungkook knows he's better off alone, lest he brings people down with him.

But one drunken night changes everything.

In a blink of an eye, Jungkook found himself drowning not only in debt and blood, but also in dirty diapers and judgmental stares from you, a.k.a his long-lost love and the guardian of the son he didn't even know existed.

Genre and warnings: best friends to lovers, co-parenting, idiots in love, mutual pining, angst, fluff, implied smut, kissing, minor character death, slight getting back together, drama, OC cusses excessively so watch out

Pairing: dad! Jungkook x adoptive mom!Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

← Previous Chapter (05) | Next Chapter (07) →

****

Six Years Ago, 2017

As much as Jungkook hated to admit it, you were right. This venture with Jimin was doomed.

"Jungkook, what should we do?" Jimin paced back and forth, a rare image of anxiety painted on his face. Jimin always gave Jungkook the perfect picture of a calm adult who knew exactly what he was doing. As such, Jungkook naturally looked up to him. Jungkook was also an adult, but his reliance on Jimin was of another level, allowing him to see that there was something to look forward to in life.

"We have to kill him, Jimin-hyung~." But darkness still loomed over the younger man, only that it was masked by his starry eyes, giving people the wrong impression that he couldn't and wouldn't harm even a fly.

Truth be told, Jimin sighed, but he cast an affectionate look at Jungkook as if Jungkook were his mischievous younger brother who did not propose murder but simply a joke of putting salt in someone's food instead of sugar.

"Jungkook-ah, I'm serious, okay? This can potentially harm our employees. I need you to think of something."

"Who said I was joking?" Jungkook deadpanned and crossed his arms lazily. "You said it yourself. This will harm our people. Why not get rid of the root cause first?"

"Jungkook," Jimin warned, his voice turning serious.

The brunet pursed his lips into a thin line, petulant. He wished to kill Francis Fitzgerald, one of Port Mafia's board members and their certified public accountant. Naturally, Francis dealt with the company's financial statements.

Unbeknownst to Jungkook and the others, Francis used the company's money for his own gain and concealed that the Port Mafia was incurring debt.

"This is all my fault." Jimin blamed himself. He was dating Francis and blindly trusted him, but Jungkook did not want to blame Jimin.

"That son of a bitch is cunning. He'd find another way to hide this from us even if we didn't give him freedom."

Admittedly, the only reason why Jungkook and Jimin found out about Francis' scheme was because Jisoo sent a formal request to inspect Port Mafia's book. Jisoo had been wanting to increase her investment, but she didn't want to jump into the fire immediately. She wanted some sort of proof that Port Mafia was doing well. She couldn’t buy this whole unicorn company thing. Something must be up.

"Maybe we should report this to the authorities. Does anyone else know?"

"Only the two of us, Jisoo and her independent auditor," Jungkook answered. It was all thanks to your sister's painstaking effort that the anomalies were discovered. "You don't have to worry about Jisoo-noona. She'll keep her mouth shut."

"We're really going to hide this?" Jimin was uncomfortable, but what other choice did they have?

"It appears that's the only thing we could do. Unless you change your mind about murder." Jungkook shrugged off. They would just discreetly force Francis to 'resign' and slowly correct his wrongdoings. Jisoo said she knew many reliable accountants and auditors who could handle issues like this silently. Jisoo also said she was willing to buy Francis' shares, though she had no interest in being a board member.

Jungkook was a cunning man, but he had to admit he couldn't exactly figure out why Jisoo was willing to help Port Mafia clean its mess up. Thankfully, Jimin gave Jungkook the go signal to work with Jisoo while he continued to manage their business operation. It gave Jungkook the time to scrutinize Jisoo. He had done the same thing with others before, dining and sweet-talking them until they willingly opened up to him.

"Why the long face, Jisoo-noona? Did you change your mind about helping us~? Or maybe you're just looking for a little extra persuasion~?" The corner of Jungkook's lip ticked up. They were at Jisoo’s house because Jungkook proposed to cook for Jisoo to thank her for helping Port Mafia. He slowly poured wine on Jisoo's glass while maintaining eye contact with her.

Light teasing and flirting usually worked, but Jungkook didn't see the blush on Jisoo's cheeks. She indolently picked up her wine glass and swirled it to release its aroma.

Jisoo did not drink her wine. She furrowed a brow at the younger boy, "Jungkook-ah, tell me. How much do you love my sister?"

Her question stunned Jungkook, causing his throat to get dry. For a moment, Jungkook didn't know what to say. He opened his mouth to speak but pursed his lips at the last minute.

It took a while before Jungkook settled with an answer.

"It's complicated." While it was indisputable that you were his best friend, Jungkook also knew that his bond with you transcended all superficial feelings, such as love. Yes. Love, among other things, was superficial compared to what you were to him.

People often wondered how you and Jungkook remained friends for many years, considering that all you did was fight, but none of those people saw you two’s desperate glances and how soft they actually were. No one understood that while it was easy to buy crab spring rolls, you would rather make them at home and add some pureed vegetables so Jungkook could eat healthier.

Or how no one understood Jungkook's intention of cutting you some slack after all the hurtful words you had said because he knew he'd be damned to take an angry woman’s words at face value.

Love was there—it was easy to say and feel that, but it was a different story, knowing that you might hurt each other. However, at the end of the day, you and Jungkook were each other's constants. You would return to each other's embrace no matter how fucked up the situation was.

People like Jisoo would not understand that, so Jungkook could only settle with a simple "it's complicated" response.

As expected, Jisoo shook her head. She didn't look enthusiastic to hear Jungkook's answer, as her question was merely rhetoric or a preamble.

Jisoo's intention was to tell Jungkook how much you meant to her.

Jungkook smiled. "I know, Jisoo-noona. Everybody loves your sister."

"No, Jungkook." Jisoo stopped swirling her glass. She caught Jungkook's eyes, voice serious. "You don't understand. I love that kid with my life."

You and Jisoo had absent parents, so Jisoo basically raised you.

Jungkook remained silent, sensing that there was more to Jisoo's admission of her feelings for you.

And he was right.

Jisoo stopped swirling the glass; she looked at the crimson liquid intensely, a bitter smile blooming on her face. "This wine seems quite tasty."

"You would know." Jungkook took a sip of his wine. "That's your fourth cup, right—"

Jungkook was abruptly cut off when Jisoo poured the wine on the floor. Its splattering reverberated through Jisoo's dining room.

Then she confessed:

"I'm dying, Jungkook."

The wine glass shattered, broken pieces falling on the floor.

"Jisoo-noona." Jungkook was by Jisoo's side in a flash. He enveloped her in an embrace to get her to stop shaking. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

Jungkook sat Jisoo on her couch, bringing a towel to wipe at her hand. He didn't know when their playful banter turned into something this gloomy, but that should be his least concern.

"Are you with me, Jisoo-noona? Come on, breathe." Jungkook usually did this with you. You had quite some temper. Jisoo was the relaxed one, almost always gracious. Her smile was reserved for big occasions only.

It was an...experience to see her like this.

"You're okay, Jisoo-noona. Jisoo." Jungkook learned it was effective to utter someone's name when they were in distress. Fortunately, it worked on Jisoo. She released a deep breath before swallowing thickly.

"You good?"

Jisoo nodded. "Thank you, Jungkook-ah."

"Not a problem," he hummed. "Care to explain to me what you meant earlier?"

Perhaps Jungkook's tone was gentle, so it made it easier for Jisoo to open up. It was part of her plan, anyway. She knew Jimin and Jungkook must have been curious why she still invested in Port Mafia. The truth was, it was all for you.

Cancer.

Jisoo recently found out that she had cancer, and her days in this world were numbered. Jisoo didn't want to leave you alone, so she could only place her bet on Jungkook.

She knew that Jungkook would be in trouble if the authorities found out about Port Mafia's anomalies, and who would care for you if she died and Jungkook ended up locked up in prison?

"I've researched about your company. It would have been good if Francis did not mess up. I see the potential in Port Mafia; that's why I'm risking with you."

As long as Jungkook and Jimin stayed vigilant and not let scums like Francis come back, then Port Mafia would continue to prosper. By the time Jisoo was gone, all her investment would be passed down to you. That was her goal. She wanted you to enjoy a financially stable life with Jungkook.

"Are you going to tell her about your health situation?" That was all Jungkook could say.

Jisoo puffed a breath, kind of like a snicker. "Are you going to tell her  about your business situation?"

There was a pause in the air.

And then they both laughed. They both knew the answer to their question.

"Did you know why exposing Fitzgerald's crime to the authorities is not an option?"

Jisoo shook her head at that. She had meant to ask that; luckily, Jungkook made it easier.

Francis Fitzgerald was not the only one who had something to hide. Jungkook and Jimin weren't exactly clean.

Port Mafia was a business process outsourcing company. Everyone around Jungkook thought that he chose to venture into this kind of business for money, and while that was true, it was not his primary goal.

Park Jimin opened Jungkook's mind to what was happening to the world—how unfair it was and what they could do to make it slightly better.

Their solution was to make Port Mafia a catalyst for changing immigrants' lives. Not just immigrants but illegal immigrants. These people had built a life in Incheon and would never choose to go back to their own country that couldn't provide them with a proper lifestyle because of war and corruption.

Jungkook and Jimin hired these people to give them a chance at a better living. If they were to expose Fitzgerald's crime, there was no doubt that the government would also pry about how they conduct their operation. Everything would be exposed, and their employees would be at risk of deportation.

It was a band-aid solution, and Jungkook and Jimin were aware of that, but how cruel could one be to just sit and watch those people suffer?

"It's a different feeling, Jisoo-noona. I know their lives shouldn't be reduced to my feelings because Jimin-hyung often tells me it's not about us, but you're not there. No one else saw how happy those kids are..."

Jungkook never liked kids, but he would never forget when one of the kids ran to him, hugging his leg and telling him how happy he was. He didn't have to eat the bitter chocolate anymore—the bitter chocolate being dirt.

"This world is cruelly unfair." Jisoo felt defeated. One thing about sick people was how easy it was for them to be covered in a mist of bluishness. Jisoo did not see the point of living anymore. These days, all that prevailed was regret of how she lived her life and hope of how she could make someone else's life worth it.

"How much time do you have left?"

Jisoo shrugged noncommittally. "Depends. Longer with chemotherapy, shorter without chemotherapy."

"And what do you plan on choosing?" Jungkook just couldn't shut up with his damn questions.

"Are you kidding me?" Jisoo scoffed, feeling a bubble of anger rise in her. She furiously wiped at her mouth, the trace of lipstick gone. This was the only time Jungkook had seen her lose her cool. "I don't want to die with no hair. Fate is cruel enough to me. This."

She pointed at her lips and continued to wipe them with her bare hand, "Is of no use to me anymore. I can apply makeup and all those expensive skincare, and it will all be for nothing. Can't I die with my hair? Can't I die looking like me?"

She did not want to be remembered as someone sick. She wished to die simply as Jisoo, the girl with a reserved and pretty smile.

"Jisoo-noona," Jungkook called when he noticed Jisoo was shaking again.

She shook her head aggressively. "I'm so fucked up, Jungkook."

Jungkook held her hands, squeezing them. "You're not alone."

Tears trickled down her cheeks.

"We're so fucked up."

"We're so fucked up." Jungkook agreed.

They were inches away from each other.

"My sister can't know about this."

Their noses touched.

Jungkook hummed, cupping Jisoo's face, "Your sister will not know about this."

The first touch of their lips was like fire, hot enough to burn all evidence of their messed up life. They seemed to agree on one thing:

Grief.

They grieved about their imperfect lives, which they so badly wanted to share with the person they loved the most (you ) but couldn't.

You couldn't know about this because your life was perfect. You had everything, a good educational degree, friends and family who loved you, and a life where you wouldn't be scared to wake up thinking it was your last day as a free man or a living man.

With every touch and thrust, Jisoo and Jungkook grieved a life you had, but they could never have.

In each other’s wretched body was where they found the solace the world took away from them.

And come morning, when they were both sober, all that was left were sadness and fear.

← Previous Chapter (05) | Next Chapter (07) →

***

A/N: This is a short chapter and I might regret posting this immediately, but it's here and I'm going crazy. Anon people in my inbox, thank you for reading this fic, but I noticed most of you are so stressed. Please hhuhuh not to be that person, but...the fictional characters are not in the room with us right now. It's okay. I love you all.

Not gonna lie, I am thinking it's a mistake to turn this into a JJK fic, because as a soukoku fic, the characters' actions just make sense, you know? But here...things are just different, I guess. But anyway, enough rambling. It's going to work out in the end. When is the end? I don't know. hahahaha

I recently posted a light JJK oneshot, read this if you want to calm down. This is pretty much fluff and crack 😆 click here

Good night. <333

[belleandre-belle]

Gerald Kaufman (1930-2017🙏🏼🌹🕊️), British MP, speaking from the rostrum of Parliament in 2009.

Gerald Kaufman was the son of Polish Jewish immigrants. Born in the UK, Kaufman was one of the country's most famous Jewish politicians. He was also a fervent critic of Israel, calling for sanctions against the Jewish state for its policies towards the Palestinians, and comparing Israeli soldiers to Nazis.

For years, Kaufman has been one of Britain's most outspoken critics of Israel.

In April 2002, at the start of Israel's Operation Rampart to halt the wave of suicide bombings in the country's cities, Kaufman declared Israel an "international pariah" and accused then-Prime Minister Ariel Sharon of ordering "his troops to use barbaric methods against the Palestinians", according to the BBC.

Kaufman, who was Foreign Secretary between 1987 and 1992, told the House of Commons in 2002 that it was "time to remind Sharon that the Star of David belongs to all Jews and not to his repulsive government. His actions sully the Star of David with blood."

In 2004, in an editorial published in the Guardian, he called for economic sanctions against Israel similar to those used against South Africa.

In 2009, during the war between Israel and Hamas, Operation Cast Lead, he accused Israel of exploiting Holocaust guilt to justify its actions in the Gaza Strip.

"The current Israeli government ruthlessly and cynically exploits the guilt of gentiles [non-Jews] after the murder of Jews during the Holocaust as justification for its murders of Palestinians," Kaufman had declared before Parliament.

Speaking of his personal history as the son of Jewish refugees from Poland, he had said that "my grandmother was in bed, sick, when the Nazis came to her town. A German soldier shot her in her bed. My grandmother did not die to provide cover for Israeli soldiers murdering Palestinian grandmothers in Gaza."

Kaufman had compared Hamas fighters to Jewish resistance fighters in the Second World War, claiming that "Israeli army spokesman Major Leibovich was asked about Israeli murders of, at the time, 800 Palestinians. The total is now 1,000. She replied instantly that '500 of them were militants'. That's the response of a Nazi. I suppose the Jews fighting for their lives in the Warsaw ghetto could have been considered militants."

His opposition to Israel has persisted with age. In 2012, he had written an editorial published by the Huffington Post claiming that Israel was a "rogue state", and that the fact that Israel is a democracy "means that the Israeli electorate is complicit in its government's war crimes."

In 2015, he had told the Palestine Return Centre, a Hamas-affiliated association, that "Jewish money" was the reason why British Conservatives were pro-Israel.

[karleksmumskladdkaka]

I promised that I'd show you guys what my package of DL goods actually contained.

So...

Behold my treasures╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

(Please be forewarned that the quality of the photos are shit. They were taken by an idiot with no real photography experience whatsoever. Added to that I'm not fully recovered yet and honestly didn't have the energy to do multiple takes I'm also a lazy bitch at the best of times so there's that. But to compensate I have added a list below each picture to make it fully clear what exactly is depicted in them.)

Booklets ⋆⋅☆⋆⋅

From upper left to bottom right:

More, Blood Stellaworth Special Tokuten Booklet

Vandead Carnival Special Booklet

Vandead Carnival Animate Limited Set Booklet

Vandead Carnival Stellaworth Special Tokuten Booklet

More, Blood Limited V Edition Animate Limited Set Booklet

More, Blood Limited V Edition Stellaworth Special Tokuten Booklet

Dark Fate Stellaworth Special Tokuten Booklet

Lunatic Parade Stellaworth Special Tokuten Booklet

Grand Edition Stellaworth Special Tokuten Booklet

Lost Eden Special Booklet

Grand Edition Special Booklet

Chaos Lineage Special Stellaworth Tokuten Booklet

Daylight Special Stellaworth Complete Set Purchase Tokuten Booklet

All of these booklets contain short stories, either individual ones for each diaboy or just a singular one that involves Yui and all the diaboys from the associated game (though the stories do not necessarily have anything to do with the plot of said game. Like at all. One story is literally a Mafia AU. I'm not making this up I swear.)

There are a few booklets that I'm missing, namely the HDB ones and most of the Drama CD ones. I'm on active lookout for the latter while the former... ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I honestly don't care about. No Ruki = none of my money. I'm a Ruki fan first and foremost, if that's not abundantly clear lol.

Drama CDs ⋆⋅✮⋅⋆

From upper left to bottom right:

Vandead Carnival Stella Set Tokuten: Special Voice CD

More, Blood Limited V Edition Stella Set Tokuten: Special Voice CD

Dark Fate Stella Set Tokuten: Special Voice CD

More, Blood B-2 Price Drama CD (Mukami Ver.)

Lost Eden Vol.4: Mukami Saga

Lost Eden Stella Set Bonus: Special Voice CD

Chaos Lineage Vol.3: Orange

Sadistic Night 2017 Event Pamphlet CD

Versus IV Vol.2 Shuu vs Ruki Stellaworth Tokuten Drama CD: "The Vampires got a Part-time Job: Ruki"

Eternal Blood 5th Eternal Blood Vol.1 & Vol.2 Animate Tokuten Drama CD: "A Certain Day at the Mukami Household" (Ruki & Yuma)

Chaos Lineage Ebten/WonderGoo Tokuten Drama CD: “The Vampire’s Every Day: Board Game Edition ~ Ruki VS Azusa VS Kino ~”

Grand Edition Animate Situation CD

More, More Blood Vol.12 Mukami Ruki Animate Tokuten Drama CD: "Monopolizing Her"

More, More Blood Vol.12 Mukami Ruki Animate Tokuten Drama CD: "Living a Normal School Life For Once!"

Daylight Vol.7 Mukami Ruki Stellaworth Tokuten Drama CD: "Sadistic ★ Date"

Do you notice the common thread running across all these CDs?

I remember mentioning a while back that there were only two Ruki CDs I had yet to listen to. Well, turns out I'm a fucking fool and forgot about the existence of most of the CDs on this list. I have no idea whether the majority of these are any good but my hopes are high! In any case I am very excited to give them all a listen! Or more like multiple. I'm addicted to Ruki's sexy voice what can I say.

Miscellaneous ⋆⋅☽⋅⋆

From upper left to bottom right:

More, Blood Ebten After Story Card: Shuu

More, Blood Ebten After Story Card: Ruki

More, More Blood Vol.12 Mukami Ruki Deluxe Edition Message Card

More, More Blood Vol.12 Mukami Ruki Mini Story Card (which ties into his Another Story CD).

In addition to these items I have three other message cards from Ruki and two of his short story papers (his More, Blood and Bloody Bouquet ones) in storage, which I'll also share in the future.

That's all I got at the moment. Again, sorry for the piss-poor quality of the photos. I'll strive to do better with the next scans I upload.

- _(´ω`_)⌒)_

[385bookreviews]

2.279 Compound Fracture by Andrew Joseph White

SPOILERS

Pages: 368

Time Read: 4 hours and 43 minutes

Overall Rating: ★★★★★ Storyline: ★★★★★ Dialogue: ★★★★★ Characters: ★★★★★

Genre: YA Thriller

TWs for the book: Violence, gun violence, gore, injury IN DETAIL, murder, blood, transphobia, outing, deadnaming, F slur, police brutality, death, fire/fire injury, animal death, animal cruelty, body horror, classism, hate crimes, medical content, addiction, drug withdrawal, child death, grief, vomit, car accident, death of a parent, bullying, homophobia, torture, physical abuse, cursing, toxic relationship, toxic friendships, alcohol, mental illness, ableism, panic attacks, dysphoria, child abuse, emotional abuse, gaslighting and manipulation, s*xual harassment, chronic illness, misogyny, body shaming, kidnapping, p*d*philia

POV: First Person

Time Period/Location: Twist Creek County, West Virginia in 2017.

First Line: When the sheriff of Twist Creek County--and all those other sons of bitches, the Baldwin-Felts agents and bloodthirsty strikebreakers--finally caught my great-great-grandfather and dragged his ass up from the mine to make a spectacle of his execution, they killed him by hammering a railroad spike through his mouth.

Transgender socialist Miles Abernathy lives in Twist Creek County, West Virginia. His great-great-grandfather, Saint Abernathy, led a strike against the coal mine companies and tortured the sheriff's son for leverage. When he was caught, the sheriff executed him by driving a railroad spike through his mouth. This started a blood feud between the Davies family and the Abernathy family. Having just completed his junior year of high school, Miles sneaks out to go to the graduating party in the woods. But he hates social events, and he isn't going to celebrate. He meets up with his childhood friend Cooper O'Brien. Miles stole pictures that his dad took the night of the accident that killed Mrs. O'Brien that incriminate Sheriff Davies as being the one that ran them off the road. Cooper takes them and agrees to show his dad to maybe finally bring the Sheriff to justice. While they are talking, Noah Davies, the sheriff's son, and his two friends Eddie and Paul come to interrogate them about what they're doing. They lie, and Miles starts to walk home through the woods. Noah, Eddie, and Paul catch up with him though, and take a video of them beating and torturing Miles almost to death. Cooper finds Miles and brings him to the hospital. When he wakes up in the hospital, he sees the ghost of a coal miner shaking him awake. He has extensive injuries and experienced massive internal bleeding that caused him to need surgery.

Before he had departed for the party, Miles had sent an email to both of his parents coming out as trans. He brings it up to his mom, but she doesn't take it very well and doesn't want to discuss it. Sheriff Davies comes in while Miles' mom is out of the room, and threatens Miles into staying quiet about Noah and his friends beating him up. Miles tells him that with his head injury, he doesn't remember what happened. Miles eventually goes home and begins his recovery, periodically still seeing the mute ghost of the coal miner. Cooper checks up on him and their friendship begins to return, Miles even coming out to him as trans. Miles does get stir crazy and refuses to let the attack haunt him, so he goes to pick up his check from the restaurant where he works as a dishwasher. His boss tells him that he has the whole summer off and gives him extra money, saying she has temporarily hired someone to take his place, but just for the summer. Miles walks out the back door, and contemplates going back in to return the extra money, when Eddie walks out the door and reveals himself to be Miles' replacement for the summer. They get in an altercation, Miles breaking Eddie's nose and trying to threaten him to delete the video of his attack. Eddie is afraid at first, but realizes he has the upper hand with his connection to Noah and Sheriff Davies. This angers Miles further, and he tries to reach for Eddie to hit him, but Eddie backs away, slips on the gravel, and hits his head, which kills him instantly. Miles is mortified, but knows what Sheriff Davies will do to him and his family if the accident is discovered, so he drags Eddie's bodies behind the dumpsters and calls Cooper. Cooper comes immediately and helps Miles clean up the scene and they take the body. They dump Eddie's body down the old mineshaft where no one will ever go looking because of the structural instability. They then go back to Cooper's house where Miles takes a shower and Cooper helps him shave his head so his hair is more even after the head wound stitches. Cooper and Miles share a somewhat tender moment, and when Cooper leans in to kiss him, he reciprocates, logically deducing he must have a crush on Cooper because that's what he's supposed to do. After they kiss, Cooper says, "We've already killed one of them. What's a few more?" Miles is disgusted and angered by this notion and they fight before Miles leaves and goes home.

Soon after, Miles realizes that he has become reliant upon the opioids he was prescribed in the hospital, just like Mr. O'Brien is and like his father used to be. He quits cold turkey and spends time going through withdrawals. During which he finally is able to go out and see the ghost without him disappearing. After looking through old pictures he realizes that the ghost is Saint Abernathy, and he can't speak because of the railroad spike down his throat. Saint reveals to Miles that he was also trans, and leads him and his dog Lady to the burned down movie theatre where he was executed, and hands Miles a railroad spike. Miles then takes this as a sign to fight for his family and get his revenge, and texts Cooper that he's willing to move forward with the murders. He goes home, but his dad is awake. His dad begins to make an effort to use his new name and pronouns, and Miles is forced to confess his opioid withdrawal. The next morning, his mother is enraged that Miles didn't say anything about the drugs, and demands he has to start going to therapy. Miles refuses, and they argue until Sheriff Davies shows up to inquire about Eddie. They tell him they know nothing, and then Sheriff Davies asks where Miles is going to go to therapy once he sees the brochures. Miles chooses one at random, and once the sheriff leaves, his mom tells him that he is going.

The next day, his mom drops him off at a church for group therapy. He leaves halfway through out of anxiety and goes into the alley next door. A person comes out of the door to a restaurant, and Miles doesn't recognize them, but the person, Dallas, does. Dallas is their old friend from before the accident. When Mr. and Mrs. O'Brien, Miles' father, and Dallas were run off the road by Sheriff Davies, Dallas sustained a lot of burns and injuries, and Dallas' parents blamed Miles' father and family. They moved away and had no contact, but Dallas is back, living with their brother and his wife Amber, who is autistic. Dallas' brother and Amber have their own restaurant/bar that is entirely socialist and run by the workers, right under Sheriff Davies nose. Miles is glad to see his friend again, and also talk to another trans person, but is scared to be seen in the bar. Dallas says that on the Fourth of July, the biggest holiday in town, they would be throwing a "Fuck the Fourth" party to counteract it and call out Sheriff Davies. Miles rejects the invitation, but him and Dallas swap phone numbers, and he gives them Cooper's number.

Miles and Cooper meet up to plan the murders, deciding to use Miles' father's gun to shoot Paul on the Fourth of July when his parents are out of town. While they are talking in Cooper's convenience store, Paul and Noah turn up to harass them, further settling their decision. Miles spends the night with Cooper and they get drunk and make out. Miles then decides to also make a difference in another way, and goes back to the bar to speak with Amber. Amber tells him they are going to be handing out pamphlets with evidence of Sheriff Davies' and the police departments' corruption. Miles gives them copies of the pictures he gave to Cooper.

The night before the Fourth of July party that the Davies plan and throw every year, Cooper and Miles took the gun and drove up to Paul's house. The plan is for Cooper to shoot him, and then they would clean up and dump his body in the mineshaft like they did with Eddie. They arrive, and find Paul in his father's processing plant in the garage, skinning a dear. He says he knew that they had killed Eddie the whole time but that Noah didn't believe him, and he tells them to get it over with. Cooper chickens out and lowers the gun. Miles and Paul talk, and Paul talks about how he really doesn't have it any better than the Abernathy's. Sheriff Davies bought out his parents' land and makes them pay rent to him, and takes most of their wages, and Noah had threatened to kill Paul because Paul said he wanted to leave town. Miles feels for Paul, and agrees to spare his life and just make it look like they killed him if Paul leaves town that night. Paul agrees, looking relieved, and asks to grab some stuff, when Cooper regains his nerve and shoots Paul in the jaw, removing the entire lower half of his face. Miles is appalled, and Cooper insists that they leave Paul to bleed out on the floor. They run, but on the drive back Miles makes Cooper pull over so he can throw up. They fight about Cooper shooting Paul like that, and Miles trying to let Paul leave. Cooper becomes more and more deranged, shaking Miles and deadnaming him. Miles tells him to leave him there as he was going to have Dallas pick him up. Cooper leaves and Dallas and Amber race to come pick him up, not knowing what's wrong. Miles goes nonverbal and begins having a meltdown. When he gets to their house, he wants to shower but dreads the prospect of the sensory experience. Amber gives him some things to help and tells him he might be autistic like her. He spends the night in Dallas' bed with them, but Cooper keeps blowing up his phone, demanding to speak with him and leave Dallas' house so he can come get him, worried that Miles will snitch.

In the morning, Amber and Dallas take Miles home, and he returns the gun to the safe. Later in the day his family comes to the house to prepare to go to the Fourth of July party together. Cooper comes in, saying he is Miles' boyfriend, and quietly threatens Miles to keep his mouth shut. They walk to the party, where Dallas and Amber are handing out pamphlets with evidence of Sheriff Davies' crimes and advertising the Fuck the Fourth gathering. Cooper sees the pictures on the pamphlet and is enraged, and Miles' dog Lady has to come between them. He leaves, and Noah and Sheriff Davies get up on stage and announce Paul's death. Then they announce that they'll be giving out a citizen award to Miles, since he bravely recovered from a hate crime and for being a pillar to the transgender community. This outs Miles to the entire town and also to his grandparents, aunt, and uncle. They all quickly leave the party after telling Dallas to go home now. Once they arrive back home, their aunt and uncle are enraged and leave. Miles' grandparents, however, accept him and are enraged on his behalf. They discuss what they should do, and they decide that it's time to fight back, and go to the Fuck the Fourth gathering. They do the next day, and while his mother and father discuss what to do with Amber and her husband, Dallas and Miles enjoy the punk band performing, talk about trans issues and about Miles potentially being autistic and aromantic, and marvel at the fact that so many of the towns people showed up. A girl who's father was imprisoned by Sheriff Davies and a mother who's son was killed by him share their stories, and Miles decides to be brave and stand up on stage, showing off his still disfigured face and head and tells everyone finally that Noah Davies and his friends did this to him and that the sheriff threatened him and his family in order to cover it up. At that exact moment, Sheriff Davies walks in and starts demanding that people leave. Amber refuses and demands he leave, and Miles' mother and father start ushering him and Dallas towards the back door. Finally, Amber throws water in his face, and he pulls out his gun and shoots her. The crowd turns into a riot, and Miles' mother shoves him and Dallas into the kitchen and locks the door. They contemplate what happened to Amber and how to get back in, but then Noah enters, covered in blood, and lights a Molotov cocktail, setting the place ablaze. Miles and Dallas run outside, where people have finally started to come out, including his mother and father, Amber's husband, and Amber, who was shot in the shoulder. They drive back to their house separately. When Dallas, Miles, and his father arrive back at their house, they find Cooper's body, cracked open and gutted on their porch. The rest of them arrive, they call Miles' grandparents, and Mr. O'Brien to see the body of his son. Miles' mom takes care of Amber's shoulder, and Miles fesses up to him and Cooper killing Eddie and Paul. No one is really surprised, as the Davies and Abernathy's had been killing each other for years. They decide that enough is enough, and when Noah texts Miles to end this permanently by meeting him alone, they decide for them to meet in the abandoned mineshaft. They plan for Miles to trap Noah, and then use him as a negotiation tool to convince Sheriff Davies to leave town.

Miles goes down into the mineshaft with the gun. Noah meets him there and taunts him, saying that they'll leave his family alone forever if he agrees to go with him and his dad. He also tells Miles about how he tortured Cooper, gutted him like a deer while he was still alive, and Cooper confessed everything. Miles lets off a warning shot, and Noah attacks him. They fight, and Noah gets the gun, but Miles pulls a knife out and kills him with a stab to the neck. He leaves the mineshaft and tries desperately to call his family, but is then shot in the head by Sheriff Davies, taking out his eye. The Sheriff kidnaps him, and takes him to the abandoned movie theatre to hammer a railroad spike into his mouth, just like his ancestor did to Saint. Saint manifests in front of Sheriff Davies to distract him, just as Miles' family shows up, and Lady attacks the sheriff, ripping chunks out of him. By the time they recall Lady, the sheriff is dying, so Miles' grandpa shoots him in the head. The rest of the town witnesses it, but they all grab shovels and tarps to help them bury the body and hide the evidence.

Time skips forwards a bit to the town holding a meeting to decide what to do to ensure the corruption of the town ends. Miles is missing an eye now, and him and Dallas are in a queer platonic relationship. A state trooper shows up, but everyone at the meeting clams up and refuses to give any answers about Sheriff Davies.

Miles Abernathy (Sadie Abernathy): I love Andrew Joseph White's protagonists because they always feel so real. I, of course, connected with Miles due to his autism, but also due to his humanness in general. He's no where near perfect, making mistakes and even plotting murder, but he's also just a kid, doing his best in a near impossible situation. I also appreciate him showing different presentations of autism with his characters, between Nick in Hell Followed With Us, Silas and the gardener in The Spirit Bares Its Teeth, and Miles and Amber in Compound Fracture, you get different perspectives of people that live with the same thing, and for me as an autistic person, I am able to see different aspects of myself represented in each character. This also applies with Benji from Hell Followed With Us, Silas and Daphne from The Spirit Bares Its Teeth, and Miles and Dallas from Compound Fracture in how they all view their trans-ness differently and have different journeys with it.

Cooper O'Brien: I really wasn't expecting at first for Cooper's character to become so twisted, but you watched him spiral into a sort of madness in real time with Miles. He became wildly unpredictable, and anticipating his actions was a source of anxiety while reading (in a good, thriller kind of way). You almost became just as scared of Cooper as you did of Noah and the sheriff by the end.

Storyline: I finished this book in one sitting, staying up WAY past my bedtime because I just needed to know what happened. The plot kept you on your toes the entire time, even in the calm moments, because you had no clue when some kind of chaos or calamity was about to descend. The plot twists were genuinely brutal, especially with the vivid descriptions of the gore these teenagers were inflicting upon each other. The sheriff was written to be especially enraging and evil, a well done villain. You feel the characters' rage alongside them as the story progresses.

Representation: Miles is autistic, aromantic, and transgender (FtM), and ends up in a queer platonic relationship with Dallas at the end. He is also left disfigured in the face and head after the attack, and later on completely blinded in one eye when he is shot by the sheriff. Dallas is a burn survivor, and is disfigured because of it. They also are plus sized, have ADHD, and are queer and nonbinary. It is undetermined if Cooper is queer, or if he just sees Miles as a girl despite him coming out. Amber has autism. Miles' boss is described as visibly queer, but nothing is specified or confirmed. Miles' great-great-grandfather Saint Abernathy is trans and gay. Miles describes there being several queer people at his school, including a he/they lesbian, a queer girl, and a gay boy. One of the musicians in the punk band is a trans woman. Miles, his father, and Mr. O'Brien all struggle with opioid addiction.

Summary: Once again, Andrew Joseph White has written a masterpiece. His books have the incredible ability to suck you right into the story, making you feel like you're there and experiencing these events with the characters, and, for fellow trans and autistic people, at times it can even feel like you're the protagonist yourself. No characters are overlooked, and it feels like everyone in the story grows and develops, not just the protagonist.

Quotes: "...parents seem obsessed with performing their grief about a child's transition."-Miles Abernathy (p.66) "We've already killed one of them. What's a few more?"-Cooper O'Brien (p.102) "It's like everyone knows there's something off about me, and they don't like it, and they don't quite know what to do about it."-Miles Abernathy (p.149) "I wish Cooper had gotten to know the version of me that's going to exist one day."-Miles Abernathy (p.333)

[lady-bess]

Fallout - Prologue

Jack Daniels x F!Reader Explicit/18+ (Minors DNI please) Chapter Word Count: 2.6k Chapter Tags: Graphic Description of Violence, Graphic Description of Injuries, Comatose Patient, Grief, Angst, Trauma.

Series Masterlist | A03 Link | Tumblr Masterlist

Next Chapter (Into The Ether) ->

Jack gets seriously injured in Cambodia after attempting to stop Eggsy and Harry from releasing the antidote for Poppy's narcotics. Ginger works around the clock to try and save him - but is it too late?

“Fallout [noun] - the adverse side effects or results of a situation”. 

20th of September, 2017.

“Viva Las Vegan,” Eggsy said, typing the code into the red briefcase he and Harry had retrieved from Poppy. “This one’s for you, Merlin.” And, with the push of the enter key, the antidote to Poppy’s tampered narcotics were released worldwide.

“Thank goodness that was the right code,” Harry joked, “We’d have been in a right mess if it wasn’t”.

“I think we’ll still be in a mess either way, Harry. This is gonna take one hell of a clean up team,” Eggsy said. He pivoted on the spot to survey the diner. All around the two men was a scene of destruction, extending out beyond the large glass windows into the jungle. Poppy Adams had made something unique here, they had to admit that. But now it lay to ruin, littered with the bodies of her accomplices, damaged beyond repair.

“You’re right about that. I’ll go ahead and call back to Ginger, let her know we’ll need a team out here as soon as possible. You tend to Whiskey’s head wound. He got knocked badly back there,” Harry said, tipping his head towards the other side of the counter, where Whiskey lay crumpled over in a heap on the ground.

Eggsy grimaced as he looked at the senior agent laid out on the floor, his mind flashing back to just minutes ago. One wrong move and he would have been in the machine, well beyond saving . The knock to the head wasn’t ideal, especially as it looked to be where he’d only just recovered from Harry having shot him, but at least with the alpha gel it would stop him from having anything wrong long term.

“You think we can trust Statesman now?” Eggsy asked, turning back to Harry. The senior agent nodded as he pulled a phone out from his inside jacket pocket, beginning to dial a number to get the clean-up team out.

“I’d safely assume so. It was clear that Whiskey was working for himself, and himself only . I don’t believe his actions are representative of the organisation he works for. He went rogue, Eggsy. We can trust them now, I’m sure of it,” he said, lifting the phone to his ear.

Eggsy nodded. He had learnt to trust Harry’s instincts, especially given that he was right on the money about Jack in the first place. A part of him would probably always regret not listening to him about his hunch, and asking Ginger to keep Whiskey sedated until the end of the mission. Then again, would he have ever shown his true colours had it not been for this fight?

Eggsy headed over to Jack while Harry placed the call. He overhead him connect through to Ginger, so help would be on the way soon. He knelt down next to Jack, smiling taut and sympathetically as he surveyed the damage.

Jack had a knock to the side of his head, right by his temple. Bruising was already spreading around his eye socket, and Eggsy wouldn’t be surprised if it transpired that he’d cracked his skull. The gunshot scar which he’d walked in here with not twenty minutes ago was already no longer visible under the new damage he’d sustained.

Blood had begun to pool under the agent’s head, and a small trail leaked from the side of his mouth from where he’d taken several hits to the jaw. Eggsy hated that he and Harry had needed to take such action, but it was clear that without it there was no way they were walking out of here alive, let alone releasing the antidote. The mission had to come first, always. 

Whiskey’s hat had already come off in the scuffle, knocked off after he smacked his head, and before he went down on the hard floor line a tonne of bricks. His dark brown hair lay unruly all around his head, the usual neat style he maintained beneath the stetson completely ruined. Eggsy leant over to the hat beside him to retrieve the alpha gel, hoping that he still wasn’t too late to apply the alpha gel now. The injuries looked serious, and Whiskey was losing blood fast. His breathing was already shallow, and the colour from his face was slowly fading away.

Eggsy turned over his hat, and his eyes widened. Panic rose within the agent as the safety net was virtually pulled away from him, like a rug had been dragged out from beneath his feet. Ginger had shown him how to use the alpha gel, and it had come in handy in Italy, saving Whiskey from Harry’s gunshot. He was so calm this entire time because he knew that there was more of this gel to help Jack again. But this time, he found that the hat was empty. 

There was no saving him so easily this time. 

“ Shit ,” he cursed, “There’s no fucking alpha gel!” he said, voice raised to get the attention of Harry on the other side of the counter.

“What?” Harry said, turning to face Eggsy, the line to Ginger still open.

“I said there’s no alpha gel , Harry. His hat never had any restocked after the last batch got used… fuck !” he shouted. Harry’s eyes widened as he saw Eggsy standing up, a look of panic across his face. It was never their intention to kill the agent, merely wound him enough to get him out their way, and then get him back to Statesman for questioning. Neither of them had stopped to consider that their fight could have actually had fatal consequences.  

“Fuck, indeed,” Harry said, “…Ginger, did you get that? We’ll need medics here, too. Whiskey has been hurt, badly, and we’ve no alpha gel to give him,” Harry relayed. Eggsy couldn’t make out what was being said on the other end of the line, but he saw Harry nodding along at whatever was being said.

While they waited for a response, Eggsy set to work. There wasn’t much he’d be able to do, given that this damage was certainly severe around the head, but he’d feel remiss if he didn’t try. He knelt back down next to Jack and took off his jacket, bundling it up to use as rags for the wounds that were visible. He pressed the most injured side of his head against the material, giving the blood he was losing something to soak into. He hoped that if he could at least stop the bleeding, it would give him a better chance at surviving this.

He wanted to put pressure on the wound, but he didn’t dare. The more he cleaned away the blood that had already left his body, the more visible the damage underneath was becoming. Eggsy could see a distinct mark under the thin skin around his eye, indicating there was a pretty nasty fracture there. It was hard to tell if there were any more, but given how hard he’d smacked his head, it wouldn’t be a surprise.

“There’s a team close by who are on their way now. Part of the team are medics, who will treat Whiskey as best they can while here, and then send him back off to America for Ginger to continue treating. The rest of the crew will stay and clear up here,” Harry said, jogging slightly to get over to Jack and Eggsy. He grimaced as he saw Jack’s injuries, now in full view.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered under his breath.

“Yeah, quite ,” Eggsy said, continuing to try and stop the bleeding, “Have we got anything on us that might help him?” he asked. Harry shook his head, his shoulders dropping slightly.

“Merlin did,” he said quietly. Eggsy sighed, dipping his head down in sorrow. Everything had happened so fast that he’d not really stopped to register that Merlin was truly gone now.

“Alright. Well, let’s do our best with what we’ve got. Then, tonight, we’ll raise a glass of Scotch for him,” he said, a faint smile on his face. Harry nodded, smiling back, and then knelt down next to Whiskey to help Eggsy with stopping the bleeding.

Hours had passed since the antidote had been released, and everyone in Kingsman and Statesman had been receiving alerts for most of the afternoon about the “miracle cure which came from the sky”, saving hundreds of thousands of people. It should have been a proud moment for both organisations to come forward and celebrate what was a momentous victory. But all that had to wait.

Statesman medics did their best with Jack on the scene, applying alpha gel immediately and then carefully getting him onto the transport carrier to take him back to Kentucky. The jet got him, Harry, and Eggsy, back stateside within just a few hours, and the second the wheels touched down everyone was scurrying off down to the asphalt.

Champ had arranged for Ginger and her team to be on the ground waiting for Jack when the plane arrived, and Eggsy marvelled at the speed in which the transition happened. Jack was safely in Ginger’s escort vehicle about three minutes after the pilot turned off the engines.

She didn’t stop the entire journey back, and this same efficiency continued once they were back in Statesman’s grounds. It was clear that Ginger was panicking, not wanting to lose a colleague like this. She’d already noticed that Merlin was suspiciously absent from the team, but didn’t stop to ask anything. The time for questioning could come soon; right now she needed all her focus on Jack.

Harry and Eggsy stayed out of her team’s way while she worked, hooking Jack up to all kinds of weird and wonderful machines. If there was any hope for him to ever wake up again, and to have a chance at living, it would only be in this facility. That was the one silver lining here, that at least he was in the best place possible on the planet.

But eventually, Ginger gave up. Broken, exhausted, and defeated after trying everything imaginable for hours, she stepped back from his bed. She’d only handed control over to her assistants once for ten minutes as soon as a dose of the antidote reached Statesman, and she went to administer it to Tequila. But other than that, she was flat out working on Jack.

Harry and Eggsy approached her slowly as Ginger dismissed everyone else in her team of lab assistants.

“How’s it looking?” Eggsy asked, wrapping one arm across Ginger’s shoulders for comfort. She sniffled, leaning into him, and shrugged.

“There’s nothing more I can do. He’s completely comatose. Only time will tell if he’ll recover. But there is a strong possibility that he might never wake up,” she said, her voice cracking from trying not to cry.

“We are so sorry, Ginger,” Harry said, standing at the other side of Jack’s bed, looking across at Clara. She smiled faintly.

“You did what you had to do. If he had his way, there would currently be hundreds of thousands of people dying out there, our Tequila included,” she said. “That’s what I’ve got to keep telling myself, I think”. 

“How is Tequila?” Eggsy asked.

“Groggy,” she chuckled, “But he’ll be fine. Told him to stick to the booze from now on,” she said. Then a silence fell across the three agents – words couldn’t fill the void that encompassed them all, but a question burned in the back of Clara’s mind.

“What happened to Merlin?” she asked quietly. Eggsy sighed softly, the reality of having lost a dear friend now catching up to him. He squeezed Ginger tighter and looked to Harry, hoping he would explain the events of Merlin’s passing, unsure that he himself had the strength to do so. He noticed, for the first time in his life, that Harry was starting to tear up. But still, ever strong, Harry spoke. Chest out, standing tall, like he was trained to.

“You can shed a tear in private”, as Merlin always said.

“Agent Merlin, unfortunately, passed away on our approach to Poppy Adams’ base. He got killed when a landmine exploded,” he said, missing out the crucial detail that he took Eggsy’s place. Deep down he knew that she’d never forgive Eggsy for it, and that wasn’t fair on him. 

“I’m sorry, Ginger. I know the two of you had grown fond of one another since we came to the States. Eggsy and I will be raising a glass to him tonight. We’d love for you to join us,” he paused briefly, gauging her reaction, then continued on, “I think he’d like that, too,” Harry said.

Ginger nodded slowly, a single tear trailing down her cheek.

“Thank you. I think I’ll take you up on that,” she said.

The three agents headed out that evening, an array of monitors and life support machines all hooked up to Jack. There was already a rota in place with a team of staff being in the lab 24/7, so Ginger didn’t have to worry about him being alone, in case anything happened while she was out. What he had done was unforgivable, but at the end of the day they had worked together for so long, she’d be lying if she said she didn’t care about him.

Weeks went by, and with Jack showing no sign of life, Champ made the executive decision to take Clara on board as the new agent Whiskey. He’d lost his moniker, and may never find out. Clara adopted the new alias, but it would take a while for everyone to adjust to the change.

Even though her role as Whiskey now had her out into the field more, finally doing what she wanted, what she had told Merlin she dreamt of doing, she couldn’t quite leave the labs behind just yet. They were Clara’s labs, no matter what moniker she had, or what her new role required of her. The assistants and other technicians wondered if she might be able to leave them behind if he weren’t there, lying in wait for life to come back to him.

Clara carried a lot of guilt since his accident. He was in such a hurry to get in the Silver Pony that she didn’t even think to check that his signature Stetson had been refilled after Eggsy used the alpha gel in Italy. Every time she saw his lifeless body in the lab’s bed, still peacefully sleeping, a pang of guilt ran through her.

Months went on, and over time it got easier to accept what had happened. Jack did wrong, at the end of the day. The Kingsman agents only acted how they needed to in the situation, and for as brutal as the outcome was, she could understand that. It was all in the past now, and she just hoped that he’d be able to forgive everyone involved if he ever woke up. Although, she figured he would probably have to forgive himself first.

Clocking out for an evening, Clara said her goodbyes to Jack. It was a habit she’d gotten into, and as he healed over time and started to look more like himself again, it became a little easier to not grimace every time she looked at him. She’d even been able to bring herself to keep him clean shaven, except for his signature moustache. His hair had grown longer, more grey and curly as the months went by, but she didn’t quite trust herself with his hair. 

But for as much as she hoped and prayed that one day he’d be back with everyone, she knew the chances were slim. Especially after all this time. It was now just a waiting game to see when they’d ultimately pull the plug on the former agent, releasing him into the goodnight forever. 

Until one night, when her emergency phone line rang.

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[oldfangirl81]

Fic idea 911 x Prodigal Son

I watched Mindgamers (2017) that stars Oliver Stark and Tom Payne. It's a ridiculous movie. Oliver Stark's character is a bit allergic to shirts.

But now I want Buck and Malcolm to have been friends in their youth.

Just knock the Buckleys into a higher tax bracket after they moved and they could run in the same circles as the Whitly/Bright family. They were friends for years even if Buck's parents didn't like him associating with the son of a killer.

Malcolm is older by a few years since he was born around 1988. They kept in contact via email after Malcolm went to college, even visiting a few times. And when Buck does his traveling thing Malcolm loans him some money even when Buck tries to turn it down. Malcolm manipulates Buck into accepting the money saying he wants his father's blood money helping someone instead of gathering dust.

Malcolm was dealing with his father's shenanigans when Buck was dealing with bombing/tsunami (seasons 1-2 of Prodigal Son take place in '19-'21). So the timing works pretty well for that excuse.

But Malcolm shows up for the award ceremony. He is happy to meet Tommy.

"Yeah, I did have my suspicion you weren't straight. You had a pretty obvious crush on me when you were fifteen, Evan."

"What!?! I didn't...oh I had a crush on you."

Tommy and Eddie find the whole thing funny.

A friendship between Eddie and Malcolm develops too. Bonding over parental issues and mental health issues. Then over Eddie discovering demisexuality because Malcolm explains he is.

Athena gets a phone call from Gil asking her to keep an eye on Malcolm because trouble follows him.

Gerrard was not prepared for the psychological warfare that Malcolm Bright advises the 118 on. He retires quickly.