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#nothing needs to cost money if everyones needs are met
anarchismnow · 2 months
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Things costing money is a scam!
People need resources to live healthy lives! That doesn't mean those resources can be price gouged. That doesn't mean people should have to pay more.
People shouldn't need to raise the prices of their goods so they can eat well! Nobody should have to deal with less while others make more - while more stuff is out there.
We have the resources to help everyone, but instead, we're making mediocre things, so some people have to suffer. It isn't right.
You shouldn't have to pay for clean water. For your food, electricity, house! They are basic human needs. Nobody should have to pay for what they need!
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deadsetobsessions · 9 months
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Danny no longer has a haunt. So… he decides to find another one. And while he technically has a whole world (other dimensions aren’t an option because he’s going to stay near where Jazz’s grave is, damn it) there’s only a couple of other places with enough ambient ectoplasm to sustain him. Nanda Parbat, Tokyo, and Gotham.
Nanda Parbat had a weird old musty immortal that kept trying to summon him and exchange power for the ability to “take a worthy body and rain as much destruction” as he’d like. As if Danny would need a body to bring the world to its knees.
Tokyo… it’s too far from Jazz’s grave. He could ask Wulf or even open his own portal but when Danny tried it out, Tokyo was too peaceful. Obviously there’s crime, but nothing… nothing big like Danny’s used to.
Danny ends up picking Gotham, even if the sewer zombies and the weird group of rich fruit loops with an adoption problem creeps him out. So, he destroys the portal, packs up his parents’ house and sells it, and hauls ass to the cesspool calling his name. His family’s stuff is stored respectfully in a vault located on the deepest parts of his personal haunt in the Infinite Realms.
And honestly, he’s doing better. Sure, he’s got a shitty apartment near another revenant’s almost-haunt and he feels like he’s drowning all of the time, but Danny isn’t in danger of turning into Dan, he’s catching up on royal paperwork, and he’s got like a job as a barista. In his own coffee shop that paid for using his parent’s money (who, despite their hazardous everything, made a crap ton of money off of their more normal inventions).
Gotham’s got some pretty interesting local gangs, most of which respected the sanctity of Danny’s cafe. Sure, they tried blowing it up and tried extorting money from him in the form of “protection costs” but after three months of failure, they gave up.
(Really, the local gangs gave up when they saw him take three shotgun shells to the chest and continued to work.) (They didn’t know it never hit him. Intangibility is extremely useful.)
The Rogues, on the other hand, just gave Danny flashbacks. Their gimmicks are different, sure, but after years of Box Ghost, Skuller, Lunch Lady, etc., Danny’s more than done with costumed villains. They don’t bother him either. Some of the reason is probably due to Harley and Ivy, who had walked into the cafe and (because they were bruised and scratched up from a fight) triggered Danny’s mother hen tendencies. They were promptly fed and watered and caffeinated and their hyenas were also similarly taken care of. They declared the cafe under their protection and that was that.
Red Hood stops by, and begins to interrogate him. But when Danny met his… helmet eyes? The crime lord paused, paid for his coffee, and sat in a corner table of the cafe for the rest of the day.
And he kept coming back?
But Danny figures it’s because Hood was a revenant and people who had come close to death tends to feel more comfortable around him.
(Considering this is Gotham where people almost die every other day? Yeah, he’s pretty much friends with everyone. Or at least, less likely to get shot.)
(Hood does stay because of the King’s presence and the Pit calming itself, but also Danny’s hot and he’s got a sleeper build and Hood definitely did not imagine himself in the place of the heavy box he saw Danny lift effortlessly onto a table. No.)
But of course, the peace couldn’t last forever. But by then, Danny was so antsy, he welcomed the trouble with open arms.
It starts with a clown. Danny knows who he is. He knows who Danny is.
So, Danny has no idea why the clown thought it would be a good idea to aggravate the owner of Gotham’s official neutral grounds. See, Clovkwork? Danny’s learned how to gauge his own political importance!
“HAHAHAHAHA! COME OUT, DANNY-BOY! LET ME TELL YOU A JOKE!”
Danny comes out and grabs a chair, and with a flat expression, says, “you’re not funny and I hate clowns.”
And then he swings and slams the chair into the Joker’s face. Over and over again until Danny’s sure the clown won’t get back up. The thing about Gotham’s outdoor chairs is that they’re mad out of steel and are bolted down to the ground to prevent undedicated thieves (dedicated thieves can and will steal the bolted down steel chairs). The Joker’s hired muscle just watched this scrawny twenty-something year old yank the steel chair and take some of the fucking ground and the bolts with it and beat the fuck out of their boss who is the literal Joker.
They surrender on the spot and is taken to jail. Danny just smiles at the officers who come by and since he’s got pretty privilege and they don’t want to mess with the guy who, again, owns one of Gotham’s official neutral ground and also beat up Joker without breaking a sweat, the officers just lets him go with a warning.
And then the bats comes, and wow, Danny’s playing mentor to a formally dead person again!
But before that, the Red Hood asks for an autograph on the Gotham Gazette article with a picture of a tired Danny standing over Joker’s prone body. Then Hood stammers through asking Danny out (which Danny said yes to because he’s tired, not blind, and Hood is built like a brick house and HOT).
Batman interrogates him. Danny, who can tell that this man needs therapy and is Sad TM, tells Bats that Danny’s died before and that’s why he’s like this. He also calls Batman a furry, but like in a nice way. And then he kicks Batman out with a coffee and a file on Nanda Parbat.
Now, Danny’s got a date to prepare for and he realizes that maybe this is what Jazz wanted for him- to be happy and mostly safe and happy. (Or, happier, he thinks. It’s been a long time since he’s been truly happy, but this might be a good start)
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lazycats-stuff · 6 months
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What about Batfam x male reader where the reader was actually the first child Bruce adopted and he was the practice child. He hated growing io because Bruce had really no idea what to do and then the other kids came along and now Bruce kinda understood what to do. He hates family time because he never felt like family, he was just some doll the others could practice on so later they wouldn't make mistakes. And i imagine at some point they snap. I feel like what if Damian brought over Jon for dinner and Jon was like "oh I thought Dick's the oldest, you never told me about (reader)" and reader just slams down their fist and goes to their room. At this point the rest of the family try to comfort them but the reader only screams about how they never were a son or bother, they were only a practice doll for them to use and then throw away
This has angst written all over it... Ah. Angst train it seems... Also, I think I changed the end a bit, but that's fine...
Summary: (Y/N) was nothing but a test child for Bruce. He finally lets them have it
Warnings: angst, resentment, author sucks at angst, but hey, I tried, yelling, mentions of anxiety, the fam is trying, (Y/N) is mad beyond belief, implications of child neglect... If you can call it child neglect.
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(Y/N) (L/N) was the oldest member of the Wayne family and the first child that Bruce had adopted. (Y/N) didn't have a good life at all before he met Bruce. (Y/N) could also argue that Bruce didn't treat him well as well, since being emotionally unavailable is not a good trait to have when you have children.
As the years went by, he hated growing up in the manor and with Bruce. He had food, a roof over his head and some sort of education. But that wasn't enough. The feeling of resentment that (Y/N) had has only grown as the years went by.
The feeling of being a test to Bruce, to see what he need to improve made his blood boil. He was a test pancake for Bruce and some sort of feedback to Bruce. It made (Y/N) mad beyond. Bruce could have gotten his shit straight when he started to have him as his legal child.
(Y/N) wished that he could forget everything about Bruce. About the family too. Even before Dick came, resentment building up in him nearly exploded. Looking back, he should have exploded on Bruce and Dick... Maybe even punch them. Maybe he should have done it.
When Dick came, (Y/N) saw signs that Bruce was improving, but he didn't show that to (Y/N). Years went by and Damian came. To say that Damian pretended that (Y/N) didn't exist is an understatement. (Y/N) tried to get closer to Damian, but Damian always pushed him away. (Y/N) took the signs and gave up, sadness and anger boiling inside of him. But he did observe Damian and Dick. In matter of a few days, they were close.
Dick did it without even trying.
So, (Y/N) has decided to alienate himself from the family, at least until he gets enough money to leave. Thankfully, the resentment towards Bruce and the rest of the family made him even put everything he had in school, even though no one cared about it. He had straight As and he was on his way to go to college that was far away from here. He knows that he can do it.
Even as Tim and Jason came, (Y/N) tried to be close to them, but none of them cared. None. (Y/N)'s solace became his own room and would avoid the family at all costs until it was time to eat where he had to step out. That only solidified the fact that he was going to leave as soon as possible.
Either way, he just had to alienate himself and move out. Then, everyone in the house would be happy.
However, everything would turn on its head when Damian would bring his boyfriend Jon over to meet the family and by default (Y/N). If only (Y/N) knew what would happen.
Dinner rolled around and came down to eat. He didn't expect to see Jon, but was nice to introduce himself to Jon, trying to be nice and just get this stupid dinner over with. He put some food on his plate and just ate in silence while everyone else talked.
He listened to bits and pieces and just stayed silent. He finished his plate quickly and pushed it away and sipped at his water, just being polite and getting ready to leave back at his room.
" Damian, you didn't tell me anything about (Y/N)... I thought that Dick was oldest of the brothers. " Jon said and (Y/N) froze.
Damian didn't tell Jon about him...
(Y/N)'s anger boiled over and he slammed his fist into the table before standing up quickly, knocking the chair over. Everyone got startled at the actions and watched in silence as (Y/N) left the dining room.
After a few seconds they all jumped into action, trying to stop (Y/N) to comfort him. (Y/N) slammed the door of his room shut, locking to make sure no one could enter, before he broke down on his bed. He hugged his pillow and sobbed into it.
It shouldn't hurt like this. He should have been stronger than this. Not cry over them.
" (Y/N), please open the door. " Bruce said through the door.
" Please, we just want to talk. " Dick added and (Y/N) snapped at that, anger boiling over once again.
" Talk?! TALK?! Stop acting like you care! " (Y/N) yelled at the top of his lungs.
" We do care. " Jason started.
" You don't give a single flying damn about me! I was never a son or a brother to anyone! I was only a test toy to Bruce so he could see what he could fucking improve! I was never a fucking brother either! Damian fucking proved it! " (Y/N) yelled at the top of his lungs, tears streaming down his face.
Everyone stayed silent and (Y/N) sobbed his heart out. Damian swallowed hardly, realizing what he did and how that hurt (Y/N) deeply. Maybe he shouldn't have...
Everyone glanced at each other. They stayed silent as they listened to (Y/N)'s sobs. Just how much pain did they brought up onto him?
" (Y/N), look- " Bruce started and (Y/N) screamed again.
" Don't you dare care right now! I'm moving out in a few days anyway and I don't need your pity or apology! " (Y/N) yelled, trying to wipe the never ending stream of tears.
" Moving out?! " Bruce yelled, eyes wide in shock. He know he has no right to tell (Y/N) what to do, but something flared up in Bruce. " No, you're not moving out! You are going to stay put because we have to solve this problem! "
" Are you shitting me Bruce?! Work things out?! "
" I'm not shitting you! I have to make things right with you! You are my son too! " Bruce yelled through the door.
" I don't give a single damn about any of you! "
Bruce took a deep breath, trying not to explode. He knows he has no right to be angry, but (Y/N) was still his son. " (Y/N), I am your dad and we will solve this problem. "
" We won't solves shit Bruce! "
" (Y/N), please, " Tim started, but (Y/N) cut him off. " Shut up Tim! "
Tim bit the inside of his cheek and stepped back.
" (Y/N), " Jason started, " You need to calm down, you'll give yourself a heart attack. "
(Y/N) wanted to scream even more, but he felt like he was going to die from this situation.
" Shut up, all of you! "
Now Dick started. " (Y/N), we may have been bad brothers- "
" May have?! You were- No, you are the worst brothers! " (Y/N) yelled and clenched his fists as he started facing around the room.
Dick sighed and stepped back. At the moment, everyone knew that (Y/N) talking to them without yelling at them and more importantly, he needed to calm down first.
But with how much anger and resentment there is, it is going to take a while.
" Lets leave (Y/N) alone for a while. He needs to be alone for now. " Bruce said and gently moved everyone away from (Y/N)'s doors, who was inside, trying to breathe more normally. He felt like he was going to jump out of his skin in the next few moments. He calmed down after a while, but he was still anxious beyond belief.
Unfortunately, the threat of moving out is just a threat and not a promise. (Y/N) sighed as he sat down on his bed. It was a stupid move to say that while he didn't have everything secure yet. Stupid.
(Y/N) went to the bathroom and washed his face and drank some water, to soothe his soon to be sore throat. It won't be nice to talk in a few hours.
Either way, it's better than leaving this room in order to face his siblings and dad. No, they are just roommates here, until (Y/N) can move out and just finally cut them out of his life.
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themultifandomgal · 2 months
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Could you do an established relationship jay halstead x petite reader? She’s in the fbi, has a PhD, and is quite young. (She’s like 25-27) She’s shy and pretty innocent. Jay introduces her to the unit. When they meet her they don’t see how she’s an fbi agent. Then the fbi takes over a scene and she’s a total badass. Jay is proud and he’s like that’s my girl.
Jay Halstead- My Girl
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I absolutely loved this idea! I had so much fun writing this one. I hope you enjoy!
No one knew about Jays girlfriend, in fact everyone thought he was single. So when Jay arrived at Molly’s with a petite woman on his arm, everyone was shocked to say the least, even more so when Will gave her a hug and the pair looked like they have known each other for a while. The noise of conversation and clinking of glasses filled the air as they made their way to a table in the corner. It was a Friday night, a rare occasion for Jay and his colleagues to be out all together.
As they sat down, Erin, his partner, was the first of Jays coworkers to greet the couple
“Im so happy you could come. Who is this lovely lady, Jay?" she asked, her tone laced with curiosity.
Jay smiled proudly and replied, "This is YN. My girlfriend. She works for the FBI." YN, who was naturally shy and reserved, gave a polite nod but said nothing. Erin's eyes widened in surprise, she looks over to Jay shock written all over her face
“Oh wow you’ve kept her quiet Jay” Jay just shrugs in response.
Through the evening the drinks flow, but YN continues to stay quiet, just observing the space around her
“So FBI huh? You seem too quiet and innocent for that line of work”
YN simply smiled and shrugged, used to this reaction from people who underestimated her based on her demeanor. She was well aware of her ability to blend in and appear unassuming, a skill that served her well in her line of work. She knew that her quiet nature was one of her greatest assets, allowing her observer others and gather crucial information for her cases. As the night went on YN and Jay finished up the evening and headed off back home.
YN sat in her car, staring at the building in front of her. It’s been 2 weeks since she met Jays coworkers and now she’s been asked to help the intelligence unit with a tough case. She steps out of the car and strode confidently towards the entrance, her gun hidden securely in its holster.
As she entered the building, she was greeted by the sight of her boyfriend Jay and his boss Voight, both standing in the lobby, waiting for her
“YN thank you so much for coming” Voight says holding out his hand. Immediately YN takes his hand in hers, shaking his hand
“No problem, happy to help”
“Please follow us” Voight takes YN to the bullpen where the rest of their coworkers are standing around a bulletin board
“You all remember YN” Jay says first
“She’s joining us on this case” voight tells everyone who greets the girl
“So what do you know so far?” YN says getting straight into the case
“We know that Doms father owned a huge farm down state. When she died Dom inherited 30 million” Antonio hands over the case file to YN who takes a look at all the information at hand “he took out 10 million 2 days before he went missing” YN looks up at the team
“Did anyone actually see him though?”
“Taking the money out?” Jay asks
“At all”
“What are you saying?” Erin frowns
“I dont think he’s missing. Did you get the autopsy report on the mum?”
“No, she died of natural causes” Antonio crosses his arms
“Are you positive on that? I want to see an autopsy report somethings just not adding up”
unwavering, her determination driving her to catch the criminal at any cost.
YN got what she needed, the autopsy report showed that Doms mum did not die of natural causes, in fact she was poisoned slowly over time. YNs theory of dom not being missing made him their first suspect.
As they neared the location where Dom was believed to be hiding, YN's instincts kicked in. With a nod to Jay, she signaled that it was time to make their move.
They burst into the building, guns drawn. YN's training kicked in
“On the floor, now!” YN shouts pointing her gun at Dom “keep your hands where we can see them”
In a matter of moments, Dom was apprehended. Jay and the rest of his team watch the girl they once thought of as quiet become this confident woman. Jay watches on, feeling a sense of pride and love. That’s his girl who he’s extremely proud of.
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tpquill · 7 months
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What would another 4 years under Trump be like?
Imagine if you will, someone who has zero empathic qualities. A person vibrating with revenge. Someone who has spent their entire life self indulging on a brand, a purpose that is all they ever care about. A narcissistic sociopath; deeply entrenched in outbursts of anger, hatred and lustful ignorance. Living life on “my brand is higher turnover than any loan a bank can give you.” A gentleman’s agreement, but they are no gentleman. This person has spent their entire life; 70+ years on this planet, growing up in a standard of living he has only ever known. A man, whose father was a businessman and through his businesses, met a lot of wealth, a lot of influence and a lot of questionable behaviour. This person was surrounded by people he was introduced to in a world of social ignorance and old money wealth, because he had become his narcissistic father’s business protégé.
Throughout his entire academic and business career he has bought, bullied or faked his way out of everything, resplendent in the firm belief “dearest daddy” bred into him “everyone can be bought for a price”
Banks, businesses, criminals, judges…the list is endless in their world, because money speaks many languages, including Russian. His deep needed greed to be famous, to be talked about, to be adulated and praised - strokes his fragile ego. He demands attention like a toddler in the throes of a temper tantrum, because he’s always got what he wanted. Not an only child, but definitely a high maintenance one. Reminding me of a character from a well known book series, whose ridiculous parents spoilt their child endlessly while ignoring the child in their foster care. A child who demanded everything and got it no matter the cost - this is how this person has lived their entire life, bully into submission, threaten legal action if they never got it.
I watched in 2015 this person proclaim they were setting their sights on the presidency and I laughed with concerned hysteria. This idiot, who had spent his entire business career in and out of court due to bankruptcies. Casinos and hotels foreclose due to overdue loans, employees not being paid. Employees who had invested most if not all of their pension money in “shares” that would make them a sizeable profit to pay off their mortgages - to later find out it was just another scheme to help pay off or pay into his businesses, while they lost everything. His desire to hire undocumented migrants is old news he’s always done it. That’s why he holds favour with the old dusty republican men and women in congress, because they come from a long line of plantation owners and as you would know through American history, plantation owners had…you guessed it, slaves who they bought at auction to do the menial tasks for next to nothing. He is a man of very little talent but one who has bought and sold everyone and anything for his brand. He wants the celebrity status, he wants the adulation and ceremony of a King, he wants the authoritarian rule and suppression of a dictator, he wants the immunity of god but does not live with a Christian heart (not evangelical brainwashing)
Yes, this very same person wanted to be crowned a King, because he coveted that rule, but settled for Commander in chief instead. And, just like everything else in his life, he took measured steps to secure it through nefarious ways. His questionable admiration for authoritarian leaders puts his loyalty in the right paths of those who see America as their bankable gain. Years of political and foreign resentment balances out evenly when you meet with a weak minded, fragile ego who has always wanted to be praised. The art of the deal was never about the savvy businessman lie he always told but about the “fake it to you make it” mantra and he always excelled at that.
But here’s what lies ahead. He spent four years destroying America the last time. You can listen to the mentally concerned drum on about how he made their lives better, or how he made America great. Or how he made America the best it has ever been and think to yourself - do they actually go outside?
There was only one thing on Donald Trump’s mind from 2016 to 2020, how can I benefit from all of this? He used the office and seal of the president of the United States to enrich both himself and his blood sucking family of hangers on. He made his children (all adults) head of administration in the White House with no formal training in anything, including business (fake it to you make it) the nepotism he used in his questionable business practices, he simply transferred to the “People’s House” he installed a cabinet of lawmakers who lusted for fame, but felt left out. Grievance and vengeance because a black man had held that coveted office for 8 years and they needed (dusty and white privileged republicans) to drive that stench out. His plan was to stay there to show the world he wasn’t just Trump the businessman (6 bankruptcies, several business failures, university & charity disasters) but also the greatest world leader ever.
* stock market tanked
* economic downturn
* unemployment at an all time high
* infrastructure never fixed
* Medicare never looked at
* tax breaks for the filthy rich, tax increases for the working class
* migrants put into cages and separated from their children (white privileged free world)
* racism raised its ugly head and laughed, fascism, xenophobia, homophobia soon followed.
* gun related deaths increased, because why not? he abolished or allowed laws to lapse that had been put in place.
* scraped bills that he deemed unnecessary, pulled out of the Paris agreement, called America veterans suckers & losers, disgraced the military, threw paper towels at hurricane ravaged states claiming they weren’t part of America anyway.
Went on the world’s stage and mocked NATO demanding the countries pay more (America had only started paying more) or he was pulling out of NATO and Russia could occupy them all. Completely made himself an absolute laughing stock in front of other well respected leaders by throwing temper tantrums if he didn’t get his way.
Kissed the ass of Putin on more than one occasion. Ignored daily briefings, hired horrible actors to be his press secretary on multiple occasions. Went through more “chief of staff” positions than any former president.
And then came Covid and his botched handling of that. Nearly 5 thousand deaths, the worst of any country’s handling of the pandemic due to the size of the population of the United States. Mocked the scientists and doctors, refused states (who did not support him) of vital PPE instead, used another nepotistic family member to sell it off to states that didn’t use it because they questioned the vaccine and any easier way to keep their people alive.
His disastrous handling of the very serious pandemic led to so many unnecessary loss of life, ignorance into vital medicine that could help, instead advertising the use of injecting bleach into your veins. Once again Trump’s ignorance of not listening to sound advice, instead using his own because, he knows everything.
I won’t beat on about what happened during the previous election (we all witnessed it) the insurrection, the riots, the deaths and the damage when he very legally as witnessed by over 60 court cases all saying the same thing - lost the 2020 election, it was not stolen. Since then, he has done daily if not weekly rallies (he needs that hit of serotonin that can only be found through crowd adulation) he seeks to be re elected back into the White House. Not because he did such a fantastic job the last time, but because he could very well go to prison. 91 felonies, he’s already lost one tax fraud case and one sexual assault and rape case. He still has the hush money case, the RICO and espionage case to go through all while pleading he needs immunity, because without it, a president can be subjected to influence from foreign countries or leaders. Donald J. Trump already is, he just wants the freedom to do it all over again only this time, not get caught and answer for it, because immunity means he will be like Vladimir Putin and the leaders he greatly admires from Saudi Arabia - Turkey - Israel - China - North Korea - Russia -self appointed leaders with a regime that cripples the people of their country.
The point to this journalistic account on my tumblr is simply this;
After everything I have documented (not all in order) after all I have written, after everything that has been witnessed and grieved for. Even in the face of terrorism in your own country. The birth of a very dangerous ideology of Making America Great Again, christofacists plotting revenge on the country built on freedom and democracy, where in its constitutional legislations simply put the rule that divides church and state and successfully removed its colonial predecessors - the stripping of women’s rights and freedom of anatomy, the destruction of legal abortion (Roe vs Wade) and the push to go back in time to the 1800’s - will people still firmly believe this hate filled, vengeful, egotistical, delusional narcissistic sociopath is still worth electing him as the next president, knowing full well that once he gets in again he will do everything in his power to stay there. To then elect his predecessor (another Trump) to take over from him? He successfully taught his children well - grift, lie, squander, tax evade, hide business assets - they won’t let him down.
Or do you look at all that you went through, all that has taken 4 years to recover. To put right the horrors of the predecessor. To make the economy grow, to improve the medical system. To fix and improve the infrastructure, to raise employment and lower the cost of living. To help with student debt and get more money back in your pockets. To make America respected on the world’s stage and warn authoritarian leaders that this is not the way a countries people should be ruled. To stand up to murderous dictators and help a country fighting for its freedom from tyranny. To try and unify their country, not divide it. To have empathy and compassion, respect and loyalty to their people, not to themselves. To lift all voices including women’s to fight for what is most important up.
I hope this time you don’t send yourselves backwards, but move forwards to a better place. There is only one place Donald J Trump needs to go, one time he will ever be held accountable for his poor behaviour. One place he needs to be shown and to answer for all he has done for far too long…
Prison.
TPQ
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powderblueblood · 9 months
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omg can we see lacys dad being arrested? or maybe her first day back at school since it happened and everyone knows it was eddies dad that took him down?
CAN YOU FUCKING EVER!!!!!!!! i accidentally wrote 2k words on this because i cannot be normal about lacy, ever. should also mention that her father's name is mentioned in this. also, thank you for sending this in! it makes me real happy to know that people are interested in the background of the verse!!! *part of the hellfire & ice universe, obviously
You learned about guilty omniscience from your father.
The night that red and blue lights descended over your house in Loch Nora–a cage of relative opulence–your father was sitting in his favorite chair, drinking the aged scotch that he only brought out around his birthday. His suit was pressed. His hair shined, the salt-streaks of gray that ran like lightning shocks across his skull sharpened up against the light. His class ring from Hawkins High, which you always told him was tacky, tapped against the crystalline glass. Ting. Ting. Ting. Waiting.
Your father is the kind of man that carries himself impeccably, every single detail forethought. 
Even this one. He knew when they were coming. 
Like a fucking white collar soothsayer.
That always made your blood run cold. 
Then again, from the minutiae that you were able to squeeze out of your mother throughout the course of his trial, this charge was a while in the making. He could have heard that they were closing in on a capture, so he made sure to wear his best three-piece. 
At first, you thought the police car was for you. You had spent the entire weekend out with Carol and Cass– cruising around on a cloud of heady adolescent nonchalance, which also could have been the weed that Munson kid sold you. The three of you had approached him, slinking around the abandoned starcourt mall like a trio of vipers. 
Some rum and Coke in a Big Gulp had helped soften out the sleaziness of the parking lot. You were all moving a little slower than usual. 
Munson had looked at you–you especially–with some potent mixture of fear and resignation. 
“Half ounce for thirty?” he’d said, and you’d heard the grit in his teeth. Ooh. He had some kind of principles when it came to selling to people he didn’t like. 
“That’s an upcharge,” you’d rasped back, leaning out of the back seat of Cass’s convertible. 
Cass, who was oddly fidgety, looked back and shook her head. “Let’s just get out of here.”
Munson clicked his tongue. “That’s inflation. Cost of livin’s crawling up.”
“For you, maybe,” you muttered and the girls snickered. 
You turned back to him again, finding him glowering, brow all set and heavy. You understood why people thought he was frightening– the rumors of cult activity, animal sacrifices, ties to biker gangs, plus the garden variety he’s just a pervert! type of shit. But nothing scared you. Not then. 
You were bulletproof.
“You can do better than that.”
His stare met yours. Heavy, like a door that wouldn’t nudge open. “No can do.”
People rarely said no to you, either. Not then. It made you drop back into your seat like the spoiled brat you were, unimpressed. 
“What if we said you could come smoke with us?” Carol chirped from beside you in the back, just mockingly enough to go somewhat undetected. “You’d give us a discount then, right?”
Cass spun around in the passenger seat and smacked Carol on the arm, hissing, “Shut the fuck up!”
Carol was all, ow, what’s your problem?! I was kidding… but your head lolled against the leather headrest. You peered at him over your shades. His jaw tensed and winched, an active attempt at biting his tongue. You could see that he was begging for this humiliation to end. 
Despite all the hearsay, he was just some pathetic kid. And he clearly needed the money, or he’d have told you all to fuck off by now. 
“I don’t smoke with trailer trash,” you’d drawled. Pulling the tension, just because you could. 
“Thirty,” he said again, tone hard. “Take it or leave it.”
You shrugged at the other girls, reaching for your purse. “Well, we know he doesn’t take Mastercard, so…”
You had spent the following forty-eight hours attempting to drag yourself down from the paranoia that set in after your first joint. God, you were fucking horrendous at smoking weed. Still are. Everything was a threat; every sidelong glance from Cass, every hyena-like laugh from Tommy. You tried to stick it out and be cool and be normal for as long as you could, but the next thing you knew, it was Sunday night and you were sneaking back home through the backyard.
Your feet had just gotten a hold on the trellis you usually snuck down from when you saw the glimmer of red and blue flashes from out front. Shit. Your mother, your vengeful mother must have followed through on that missing person threat, because she knew that the only way to get to you was through a display of public embarrassment. 
This maelstrom of irony is what we call karma. 
At the head of the stairs, you prepared to edge your way down to the white-hot rage of your parents and the eye-rolling of whatever beat cops were unfortunate enough to have responded to the call. But police chief Jim Hopper's gravelly, monotonous voice carried remarkably well from your foyer. You heard your father’s name and your throat went dry. 
“... you are under arrest for embezzlement, fraud, conspiracy to distribute illegal narcotics–”
“This is ridiculous! You have no idea what you’re doing–Jim, can’t you do something!”
A starchy, federal-sounding tone cut right through your mother as you raced down the stairs, panic tightening your windpipe. “Ma’am, we would really appreciate your cooperation–!”
“Cooperation with what?!”
“Mom?”
“These charges are bullshit!” 
“Mom!”
She looked right through you, right to your father, as she always does–did. And your father, with his expression a kind of bemused smile despite the cuffs binding his hands behind his back, looked at you. He usually wore some kind of sheen for you; of pride, mostly. But now, his eyes were empty and deep and bore through you like a blade. 
Tears trickled past your waterline though you didn’t even feel them building. On instinct, your hand dashed to wipe them away– despite your confusion, you knew he didn't like that kind of pitiful display. 
“Daddy, what is going on?” you asked, and your voice was embarrassingly thick. Two of Hawkins PD’s finest slowly muscled him to the door, one dark-suited agent taking up the rear; he wasn’t putting up a fight in the slightest. Confident in this being a big misunderstanding, you were sure.
“Game face, Lacy. for god’s sake.” 
As he passed Chief Hopper, who stood in your doorway and exuded a puzzling kind of aura, he stopped. Looked right into the cop’s face, with a kind of seething glare you’d never even imagined he could muster. 
“To whom do I owe this pleasure, chief?”
“Don’t start this, Ray,” Hopper says, voice echoing tones of disappointment. 
Your father’s voice dropped, dangerous and personal. 
“Now, Jim–you really think that’s a fair thing to say to a man in handcuffs? Because it looks like somebody already got the jump on me.” 
“This doesn’t end well for either of you, you know that.”
“Well, you be sure to pass that along to Al Munson next time you see him.”
Munson. Your blood chilled and you instinctively grabbed for your mother’s arm, before she could start after them. 
“This is insane! This is in-sane– my husband is a beloved member of this community and–”
“Mom,” you said, rounding on her with a vice grip. Tears sparkled on the very precipice of your lashes but you willed them not to drop. “Keep that up and you’ll be in that squad car with him. You want that?” 
She exhaled, and you loosened your hand to stroke her arm– attempting to approximate something like comfort. Not like either of you were any good at it. Snapping back around to where Hopper was just vacating your porch, you followed him and called, “When can we see him?”
“After questioning,” Hopper grumbled back, looking over his shoulder to size you up. He paused. Pulled out a cigarette. “Calm your mother down. But bring a lawyer.”
“Surely we don’t–” you started, but he steamrolled you. 
“Bring. A lawyer.”
Eyes followed your father to the squad car, with its offending flashing lights making a mardi gras mockery of this moment of shock. Something wasn’t right– something really wasn’t right, but you couldn’t yet put your finger on it. Your mom wasn’t wrong; your father was an upstanding member of the community. A real estate mogul (as much as one can be in small town Indiana), a philanthropist, a generous investor… 
Yours weren’t the only eyes watching from a porch. The surrounding neighbors had likely caught the reflections of the lights in their evening glasses of cabernet and come out for a peep– police cars were a rare sight in Loch Nora. So rare, it begot rubbernecking. 
Your stomach leadened. In your minds eye, you saw the Hawkins’ phone tree light up like Christmas. News of this would have reached your homeroom by morning. 
Fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck– and that haunting of a name ringing in your ears. You be sure to pass that along to Al Munson next time you see him. 
It keeps on fucking ringing as you screech into an empty spot in the parking lot, leaving your car skewed over two spaces. You didn’t care, you hadn’t slept, you couldn’t think about anything else other than your poor father in that questioning room and your poor mother crying her eyes out over a bottle of beaujolais no matter how much you told her to lay off and that sinking feeling that something was terribly, awfully wrong.
It’s not that you believed what the police had said. You didn’t, of course you didn’t! You’d stake your life, your future, which you were so painstakingly building, on the fact your father was innocent. That he was a good man– but what had Eddie Munson’s shitheel father got to do with any of this? what could this Al Munson possibly get out of slinging false accusations?
Took exactly twenty four hours after that first pitiful day at school for the Al Munson factor to come to light. At first, you friends didn’t really know what to say– they handled it by kind of avoiding it, not entirely sure whether they should bring it up, even though you knew that they knew. And that they were frothing at the mouth to know more.
But after Munson Senior was a confirmed player in the scene (“Probably running his mouth about it in every shithole watering hole this hole of a town has to offer!” your mother had tearfully exclaimed), interest was piqued. 
"Like, what was your dad doing messing with a Munson? How does he even know him?"
And the fact that you shut down almost every question with an, “I don’t know yet, we have to wait and see,” meant that rumors started to spread about what your dad had done. Nasty rumors. Violent ones. 
Worst of all were the ones that painted Al Munson like some bad guy turned good, a victim of some thuggish mafioso taking advantage of underprivileged people in your poor, fair town! 
It made you sick. literally. You puked many times, and regained your composure, and went back out to listen to the rumor mill churn again. 
Motherfuckers. Pitiful motherfuckers. Something your father would mumble on the rare occasions you’d seen him really get angry. They have no idea what it takes to build something in a world like this. 
Once, completely lost in this thought, you ran headfirst into the person whose two cents you wanted the least– but who seemed to know exactly how he was implicated in this situation. 
Munson Junior jumped back in the hallway, as if you’d zapped him. If you had, you would have aimed to kill. 
“Listen, I–”
“Don’t,” you warned, stalking around him. You never had words for this fucking loser; you weren't about to start then.
“I just want–”
“No.”
“–to say,” and something turned in his tone as he started to follow you down the hallway; something foul sprouted out of it, twisted and jagged and angry, “that I know times are real tough right now– and money’s probably tight! I heard the IRS are on their way? Anyway, those court appointed lawyers really ain’t the worst things in the world… my dad only got sentenced, like, four out of five times! I'm sure your pops will be fine.”
A beat shuddered between you. You stopped in your tracks. 
“They love pretty boys like him in prison,” Munson finished, a self-satisfied smile dripping around his words.
It took everything, and I mean everything, not to turn around and use your manicured nails to rip clean through Eddie Munson’s jugular. 
“All the money in the world won’t save him from getting fucked like he deserves.”
A shallow breath drawn in, shuddering some. You tossed your head over your shoulder and let your narrowed eyes drill into him until discomfort started pressing on the moment, like a boot to the neck. That same hollow-eyed stare. You inherited a lot of things from your father. 
“I’m sorry,” you said. “Who are you?”
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xoxomoonlightxoxo · 7 months
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Somewhere Between Hello and Goodbye | Ch. 4: Strangers With Memories
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a/n: more angst but at least they aren't as awkward, however, after this chapter, I fear it's only going to go downhill for my babies :(
The dreadful No Contact Rule. Difficult not to break when the relationship is over and even more so when the relationship comes to a sudden halt but the feelings are still brewing inside. When the distance is forced and fueled by the guilt of losing that person again. However, I would be lying if I said that Jungkook is no longer part of my life. That I have somehow completely barricaded myself from his presence. How could I, when not even a conscious stream of thought can overcome the yearning of a broken heart? One that still longs for his touch, his sweet smile, his laugh. One that has been holding on to the memories of our past despite the lack of recollection in Koo’s eyes. To him, we are simply picking things up from where they were left off. Not a complicated task in nature until you realise that our story left off with his first and last “I love you, Mira”. So, no matter how hard I try to push him away, the heartstrings of my own soul seem to pull us back together. Even if he sees me as just a friend, I am willing to fight for everything we could have been, until one day he finally remembers it all. Remembers me, remembers us.
Unfortunately, with school starting, everyone has been getting back into their routines, leaving little time or opportunity to actually hang out. Despite this, Jungkook has made a special effort to “build back what he can’t remember”. So, seeing him has actually become part of my daily ritual. Whether that be going on a morning jog or grabbing a quick coffee after class. Like the good old days, we are connecting as close friends, since everything began that way. Before anything, Koo was my friend, one who somehow filled the void of my family when we were separated by an ocean. For that, I will forever be grateful to him. 
Today was like any other. Tae and I met our new cohort leader, the head of the ER department in the local children’s hospital, who was this older gentleman who wasted no opportunity to crack one of his dad jokes. He absolutely adored Tae, said that he saw his younger self in him, and unless he was a sleep-deprived, broke college student, I’m not sure what the correlation was. To be honest, Tae hasn’t been having it easy either. His grandma was recently diagnosed with pneumonia, so he spent the entire summer working three jobs to send as much money as he could back home. Being the only man, and thus, the breadwinner in the family after the passing of his father, he constantly tells me about the guilt he endures being far away from his mom, younger sister and grandma. The three women in his life he would give up anything for. And, as I’ve watched him slowly run himself thin, I have grown to be protective of Tae myself. Although he is older, in my eyes he will always be like a little brother to me. One whose shoulders carry the weight of a whole lineage.
Packing up our staff after class, Tae recommended we try the new pastry shop that opened by our dormitory. One that he first mentioned when Jungkook was admitted into the hospital in hopes of cheering my numb self. However, during that period the aching pain in my heart wanted nothing more than to be by Koo’s side. So, seeing that this time Tae was the one in need of support, I made sure to take him up on the offer as we indulged in our daily debrief. At the end of the day, we might not know how to properly give an IV but you best believe that we know how to run our mouths. In the span of half an hour, we managed to cover every possible topic known to men, ranging from the rise in the cost of eggs to the hideous new haircut the grumpy librarian decided to debut today. Our conversation could have gone on for hours until it was abruptly interrupted by the buzzing of my phone. 
Koo: Will 20 minutes be enough for you to get ready?
Mira: Depends … where are you taking me? 
Koo: It’s a surprise, just wear something comfy ;)
“Who got you smiling like that?” Tae chuckles teasingly, seeing that his words have lost my attention.  
“Oh nothing, I’m sorry, it’s just Jungkook,” I say, nibbling on my lips to suppress the urge to keep smiling. 
“What did he say?” he leans forward taking a sip of his Americano. 
“I think he wants to go somewhere?” my words drag on as he searches my scattering eyes. 
“Now?” 
“Well, no you’re right, I’m just gonna tell him that I’m busy,” I try to comfort Tae with a smile, sensing the guilt of leaving him alone.
“No, I mean, don’t you want to freshen up? How much time do you have?” he mumbles, gaze softening at my flustered state. 
“Oh, are you sure? I hate to pause our little hangout,” 
“There’s always tomorrow,” Tae assures with a boxy smile. 
“Okay, I’ll see you at breakfast, alright?” I say, packing up my stuff before we wave each other goodbye.
Thank God, the pastry shop was a short walk away from the dormitory as I suddenly realised how valid Tae’s suggestion of a shower was. Let’s just say that today’s clinical was one for the books. Not only did I spill a whole IV bag on my scrubs but I’m pretty sure that there are still some pieces of dried cream in my hair as one of the older patients refused to cooperate. So, as I finally managed to open the front door, I headed straight into the shower, washing myself free of the chaotic aftermath. 
Debating between a woven sweater and a cashmere pullover I settled on the one Koo loved the most. “Peaches, you’re so soft,” he used to say, pulling me into a tight hug as his hands caressed the delicate cashmere. I wore it on our last date before the incident, the one we spent on Oceana Beach talking about the future, our future. Miraculously, after all this time, it still had his scent, the sweet vanilla musk lingered like the memories of our past. I remember crying sleepless nights, holding the cashmere close to my heart as if it were the only thing left of Jungkook. With my eyes closed, I could almost feel his warm embrace. 
Beep Beep 
My reminiscing, however, was interrupted by Jungkook’s arrival. Quickly touching up my makeup, I grab my purse and phone before locking the door behind me. Maybe it’s from the actual physical rush or the fact that I get to see him again, but my heart sure is beating hard. I could practically feel it in my throat. And, the appearance of his bunny smile as our eyes finally met certainly did not help it either. 
“Sorry to make you wait,” I say out of breath, tucking some stray pieces of hair behind my ear. 
“No worries, I just came,” Koo assures softly, leaning back on his car. 
“So, where is this mystery destination?” I grin teasingly, folding my arms in front of my chest. 
“Surprise, remember? Ladies first,” he grins back, opening the passenger door, before helping me buckle up. And, just like that, my heartbeat went through the roof again. 
Driving down the bridge, we were in awe of the beautiful sunset that covered the sky in warm tones. Blasting our favourite song, Jungkook rolled down all the windows before pausing his phone just in time for the high note. And, as silence filled the car I could feel the flush rise up my cheeks from the sheer embarrassment that was my singing. It wasn’t just a voice crack, it was the complete demolishment of my dignity. 
“Yah, how could you betray me like that?” I scoff in disbelief, rolling the windows back up to shield myself from the passing cars. 
“I couldn’t help it, you looked so concentrated,” Jungkook chuckles, mimicking my singing face. 
“Okay, relax, eyes on the road bunny boy,” I smirk, turning the music back on.
“We’re here,” he says, turning into the parking lot. Looking around, chills run down my spine as I realise where we are. The Oceana Beach. This means that while I was fully immersed in our karaoke session, Jungkook unknowingly drove past the exact spot where he lost consciousness on that cold, winter night. All this time, I’ve been trying to avoid this place in hopes of erasing the image of Koo’s frail body lying on the side of the road. Now, I have to act like none of that happened, since he doesn’t remember any of it. 
“Hey, are you okay?” Jungkook’s voice pulls me out of the spiral, as my chest heaves up. Feeling his hand on mine, my body almost jolts from his touch, unable to hide the fear rushing through my veins. It all felt so surreal, to be looking at him alive in flesh but knowing that the Jungkook I once knew was no longer there. 
“Yeah, I … I just remembered something,” I lie with a nervous chuckle, unbuckling myself. Helping me out of the car, Jungkook looks concerned, eyes searching mine. 
“You sure, you’re alright? I can drive back jus…” 
“No, no don’t be ridiculous. I swear I’m all good,” I interrupt his sentence with a reassuring smile. Reaching for my hands again, only this time with slight hesitation, his worried eyes meet mine as his thumb caresses the back of my palms. 
“Mira, you’d tell me if something was wrong, right?” his words are layered with a tone of fear, uneasiness, and genuine worry. But, there’s a short period of silence, as my mind filters through possible replies. 
“Of course,” I manage a small chuckle, swallowing down the lie. With a nod of acceptance and a soft sigh, he intertwined his fingers with mine, taking the bags from his trunk before walking us toward a small spot by a campfire. Setting everything up, I was commanded to just relax, covered under a woven blanket.
“I used to love making smores when I was little,” Jungkook smiles, handing me a bag of marshmallows, before covering himself under the same blanket. Jimin was right, he could still remember the earlier years of his life, but nothing of the recent events. 
“Can’t relate, I somehow always burned mine,” I frown as he can’t help but laugh, scrunching his nose and letting that bunny smile come on full display.   
“Hey, don’t laugh,” 
“I’m sorry, but how does one mess this up?” he leans closer, nudging my shoulder before looking back at the sparks. If only time could stop and we could stay this way forever. If only he could feel the way my heart ached at that moment. 
“So, Mira, do you have a boyfriend?” his sudden question brought me back again, as my eyebrows visibly furrowed from the bluntness of his curiosity. 
“Why? Are you trying to pitch an offer?” I chuckle, leaning closer to the fire to warm my hands, before looking back at his teasing grin. 
“Just trying to figure you out,” he replies softly, eyes searching mine. 
“I used to,” 
“Oh, yeah? What happened? 
“He moved away. Long distance didn’t work out,” I reply slowly, allowing the fake story to play out without succumbing to the tears. 
“That sucks, you guys don’t keep in touch at all?” Jungkook’s curiosity is innocent in nature but naive to our past. I can’t even get mad at him for digging deeper, even if it hurts.  
“I’m not sure he remembers me anymore,” I sigh, replying almost defeated. 
“That’s a lie. Who could forget you?” he laughs, shaking his head in disbelief, blind to the irony of it all. 
“Yeah …” a little chuckle escapes me as well, as my eyes dissociate into the distance. “I'm pretty unforgettable, aren't I?” 
“Pretty and unforgettable,” Jungkook replies with a quick wink, covering my shivering body with his share of the blanket before taking a bite of my half-burned marshmallow.
--
Replaying our last conversation in my head, I felt bad for snapping at Jiah at the mall. It was totally uncalled for and simply a projection of the thoughts that haunted my mind. Not a fibre of my being meant it as we rarely ever fought or even came to a slight disagreement with each other. To be quite frank, during that time it seemed like every interaction I had was like walking on a minefield. With one wrong move, I was destined to blow up and take everyone else down with me.  
Not being able to talk to her freely pained me, as I grew to miss my best friend with each passing day. And if one thing was for sure, then it was that Jiah deserved an apology as she fell victim to my self-destruction. So, after a few hours of crafting a well-developed apology, I made my way to her apartment, which was literally a level below mine. Nonetheless, the walk there seemed never-ending, most likely due to the sheer panic I was experiencing. It wasn’t fueled by the fear of her reaction but the shame I felt from how I treated Jiah. However, none of it mattered anymore, as I stood in front of her door, hand ready to place a few knocks. That is until it suddenly swings open and our eyes finally meet again. 
“Jiah,” I mumble before she pulls me into a tight hug as tears stream down both of our faces. No words needed to be said. Everything was understood through the emotions we were experiencing. Melting deeper into her embrace, my face dug deeper into her hair as the sweet smell of coconut filled my senses, reminding my body of her aura. I missed her so much that I could physically feel the void in my heartache as my teary eyes searched her sad gaze. 
“Jiah, I’m so sorry,” I manage to let out as she gently wipes the tears off of my face. Holding onto her hand, I keep it close to my chest as my heart beats faster. 
“It’s okay, love. I’ve missed you so much,” she says softly, tucking a few pieces of stray hair behind my ear. And, just like that, we were back in each other’s embrace, making up for the lost time we were apart. Catching up, we spent the whole afternoon discussing everything that happened since our falling out. She showed me the emerald jewellery set Jimin gifted her for their 1 year anniversary and the pictures they took following their celebration. They looked so happy that I couldn’t stop smiling. If they ever break up then I’ll know that love isn’t real, because in my eyes they were destined for each other. No one understands Jiah better than Jimin and no one cares so deeply for Jimin more than Jiah. Simply put, they’re soul mates. 
Feeling lightheaded from all the tears we’ve cried, I suggested we go out to grab some late lunch, or early dinner before going on a walk around campus. Jiah was quick to agree as she changed into some jeans and a hoodie before grabbing her purse and keys. Stopping by my dorm, I quickly touched up my makeup in hopes of not scaring innocent civilians from the aftermath of my mental breakdown. And, as we rode the elevator down to the main lobby, Jiah and I were inseparable once again. That is until my eyes widened at the sight of Jungkook standing by his car, shuffling in place to keep himself warm.  
“Oh? Jungkook? What’s wrong?” I stutter, worried eyes searching his. 
“Sorry Jiah, but could I steal her from you?” he asks softly, as Jiah's face turns to mine. Hiding the way her chin was trembling, she didn't know how to reply before taking a deep breath. 
“Call me when you get back?” she nods, separating her hand from mine as I pull her into a hug.  
“I’ll bring you some pastry from the new shop Tae recommended,” I say with a reassuring smile before waving her goodbye. Making sure she got in safely, my eyes turned back to look at Jungkook’s bunny smile. 
“How did you know I was here?” I ask with a skeptical tone, slowly making my way towards the car. 
“You really don’t think I pay attention, huh?” he says teasingly before opening the passenger door. 
“You mean to tell me that you’ve memorized my schedule?” I scoff, looking up at his softened gaze. 
“Pretty much,” he replies with a grin, leaning onto the door frame before caressing my cheek with the back of his palm. 
“Hey, were you crying?” Jungkook asks, concerned, as I cover my red cheeks with my hair. Way to not be obvious, Mira! I guess, my attempt to hide the fact that I’ve been sobbing for hours failed miserably since he managed to notice it after one glance. 
“Oh, yeah, it’s nothing. I promise,” I shake my head with a soft smile before looking back up at his worried eyes. 
“Mira, you know you can always talk to me, right?” his words are followed by a deep sigh as he crouched down before my still form. 
“Of course, I know that, Koo,” I manage to let out a giggle, patting his head in hopes of making him feel at least somewhat at ease. In all honesty, however, I knew that he wasn’t fully convinced, but I also didn’t necessarily hate that. Because a small part of me hoped that maybe, his curiosity would somehow help him regain the memories he once lost.
“Anyways, where are you taking me this time?” I try to change the subject, as his eyes look back at mine. 
“I need your help,” he replies, buckling my seat belt before heading to the driver’s side. 
“May I know with what?” 
“A song. A love song,” his voice is abrupt, but still layered with tease. 
“I beg your pardon, a love song? Jungkook If you think I’m going to sedate you with some vocals then you are greatly mistaken,” I scoff with my arms folded in front of my burning chest. A love song? As if seeing him again isn’t hard enough. Now, he is giving me yet another reason to cry at night. 
“Shhhh, I’ll explain everything when we get there, just sit back and relax,” he assures me with a sly wink. 
“Mmhhm,” I nod, loosening up the seatbelt before crossing my arms over my chest. Navigating through all the turns, my mind is trying to piece together our destination, until we finally stop at a brick building near the campus gymnasium. 
“Koo, where are we?” I ask cautiously, scanning the premises as he opens the passenger door. 
“It’s a studio my buddy owns. Don’t worry the inside looks more welcoming than the outside,” Jungkook grins, locking the car as we make our way up the stairs.
“Be careful here, they’re still under construction,” he points to a hole in the wooden floor, grabbing my hand as I tip-toe behind him.
“Right, and this buddy of yours, you know how?” 
“He used to produce for the band the guys and I were in. The Bulletproof Boys,” he replies proudly until I burst into a cackle, which promptly faded the smile on his face. I couldn’t help it, I was still not over the first time he mentioned the infamous band name. The Bulletproof Boys. Peak comedy if you ask me. 
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you, I’m laughing with you,” I try to regain my composure looking at his pouty lips. 
“I’m not laughing,”
“Okay, then I’m laughing at you,” I tease again, poking his side as he opens the door to what seemed like a small recording studio.  
“Hey, guys! Come on in,” a man’s voice welcomes us into the dimly lit room. 
“Hi hyung, thank you again,” Jungkook shakes his hand, before looking back at my flustered face. I’m usually not as awkward but something about being in a room with a stranger, Jungkook, and a hypothetical love song just did not sit well with me. 
“This is Mira, she’s going to be our female lead,” Jungkook smiles, giving me a sly wink. A lead? I really do hope he is kidding. Is today April Fool's or something? Where are the cameras? 
“Sounds good to me, who wants to go first?” the man asks the both of us, as I try my best to avoid his eye contact. Fiddling with my thumbs, Jungkook could sense that I was becoming more and more uncomfortable. So, he suggested that we go in together since it is my first time doing something like this after all. 
“Just follow me okay?” he says softly, helping me put on the headphones before handing me the lyric sheet.
“Alright, let’s just see how the melody plays out, okay? Jungkook, if you want to jump in with your vocals now, by all means. But, Mira, you can just use this take as practice. I want you to get comfortable with the lyrics,” the producer explains, giving me a thumbs up as I nod okay. 
Following Koo’s lead I tried to mumble the words under my breath, getting the feel of the song. And, to my and probably everyone’s surprise, everything was going somewhat okay? We were able to finish recording the intro in under an hour and have just gotten to the pre-chorus. After some practice, I was beginning to feel capable of managing this project, until my ears were pierced with a sudden “I love you,” projecting from Jungkook’s microphone. 
“Oh?” I let out a loud gasp, covering my mouth as my eyes shot up at his form across the booth. Searching my flushed face, he grins, pointing to the lyric sheet on my stand. Furrowing my eyebrows I begin scanning the lines with my finger, realising that he was singing one of the adlibs. However, what came after almost made me sick. Suddenly, it all felt a bit too real. Shutting my eyes, I tried to regain my composure, and within a second, I was back in that hospital room, sitting across from Koo’s frail body as his thumb caressed my palms. 
“I love you, Mira. I’ve been loving you this whole time,” his sweet words played in my head, as tears rolled down my face. Feeling the knot in my throat, I was practically screaming, but nothing came out. I couldn't do it, not then and not now. I couldn’t say the words he desperately deserved to hear. And just like that, I was back in the booth, only this time, my heaving body was plopped on the floor surrounded by both Jungkook and his producer. But, before they could ask me anything, I rushed out of the room, virtually sprinting towards the nearest washroom, where I hoped to lock myself from the outside world. Closing my eyes, all I could see were the replays of that scene before they were suddenly interrupted by the knocking on the stall door.
“Mira! Mira, open up, it’s me,” Jungkook’s voice is heavy, almost breathless. 
“Are you in the women’s washroom?” I yelp in disbelief, wiping the tears off of my face. 
“There’s no one here, come out, please,” he pleads softly, moving back as I slowly open the door. Lowering my gaze, I fold my arms over my chest before leaning back on the stall as if I didn’t just pass out in front of him. Taking a deep breath, I tried to explain myself before feeling his arms wrap around my shoulders as our bodies melted into a tight hug. Oh, Koo, if only you knew how much I missed your warm embrace. 
“Mira, please tell me what’s wrong,” Jungkook whispers, burying his face in the curve of my neck, as I feel his breath on my skin. 
“Koo, I told you, I’m fine,” I managed to lie, placing my hands on his shoulders to create at least some distance. 
“Fine? You dropped to the floor and were unresponsive,” he shouts, furrowing his eyebrows from frustration as his hands grab mine. 
“I … I think my period is coming soon. The days before are always killer,” I explain, trying to convince the both of us, before feeling his worried gaze search my scattering eyes. 
“Your period?” he confirms. 
“Mmhm,” I give him a few nods, feeling his grip on my hands slowly loosen. Tucking the stray hair behind my ear, Jungkook leans closer, tracing the trail of dried tears on my face before letting out a soft sigh. 
“Okay, I believe you. I’ll always believe you, Mira,”
Please, don't.
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The Enraged Inferno || Part 3
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Character: Diluc
Type: Angst, tragedy, Revenge and Reader in her villian era
Tags: Fem!Reader
About being Taglisted in my stories: Here
Requester: @sailorstar9
Content: You traveled to Mondstadt to deliver a medicine order for Baizhu. You decided to stay in Mondstadt and expand his buisness there. You just met with Jean and treated her like the way she treated you but worse, but then...you met Diluc, he was all over the place, as his facade fell apart immediately once he saw you. It was like the light of his life was brighten again, only that...you were...different.
Trigger Warning: I might be a little violent in this story to stress the Villain Era the reader is in, and also, dealing with trauma so please proceed with caution. I might add cursing a bit, please let me know if you can feel the idea of the reader without the cursing. I might've also like included something about the idea of lobotomy in there so please, be careful.
Part 1: Here Part 2: Here
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[ 9 Years ago, 12 year old ]
"Aha Luc! Look! Look! I found wild grapes!" You smiled as you showed him healthy fully grown grapes.
Diluc smiled and blushed at you. "Those look pretty...would you want to maybe...grow a large grape farm together...?"
You widen your eyes and jumped happily. "Yes! That is sooo cool! Imagine all the grape juice we can give to everyone!?" You hugged Diluc. "You keep being so smart, Luc!"
Diluc smiled and blushed more. He hugged you back, as he imagined a future where you and him would grow grapes together, and sunbathed under the sun together. Then drink grape juice, laying in the grass under the moon.
Kaeya then joined in on the hug. "Hey guys, why not do wine? Dad says it cost money and we can have a lot fo money!"
You looked at him. "Oh wow. That is so true!"
You three laughed together, in ignorant bliss.
[ 5 Years ago, 17 year old ]
"Hey Luc." You slumped down next to him and handed him a grape juice box. You poked a hole in yours and took a sip.
Diluc looked at you. "Something wrong?" He did the same, as he took a bigger sip.
"Nah, I am okay." You smiled at him, kindly.
"I know you better then that, don’t lie to me now." Diluc leaned back and stared straight. He didn’t need to try and guess your emotions. You became second hand nature for him to read.
You chuckled. "What gave it away?"
He shrugged. "I just know...what's wrong..?"
You smiled and sighed. "I..."
Diluc interrupted. "You saw adventures and the monsters fought brutally and you feel troubled. You want everyone to get along and live in peace?"
You looked at him shocked. "H-How did you...!!"
Diluc laughed. "Haha you are too cute, of course I'll know. You are such a gentle soul, with a kind heart. I could never get over that. I can indulge you in that forever." He smiled at you.
You blushed and looked away.
[ Current ]
Diluc was looking down at you, at your dead face. You pushed his away from your chin, and sighed. "Diluc, please sign the receipt so I can leave, I have things to do." You spoke coldy to him.
He looked at you, dumbstrucked once more. "Diluc...? You won't call me Luc anymore??". However, as a defense mechanism of his he will pretend this didn’t bother him, despite the mess he was right now. He sighed and nodded slowly and turned, pulled a pen from his desk and sighed the receipt. He then turned to you, and handed you the receipt.
You then turned and walked away, no goodbye, no nothing. Diluc tried to watch you walk away, however this was too much for him, he immediately put his head in his hand, desperate once more. He immediately ran ahead of you and came in front of you, preventing you from leaving his office.
"I-I love you!" Diluc said desperately. "I have always loved you! I left that stupid arrange marriage for you, I left Jean for you, I love you! Please just listen to me! I've always loved you, since we were young! Your smile, your playful natu-"
"Diluc move." You spoke sternly with a red glint in your eyes. You pushed him aside, and opened the door, left. You had no time for some dumb romantic shit. You had no space in your heart for it, anyways. But at the moment, you didn’t care.
Diluc obediently let you pushed him aside and he stood, watching you leave his vicinity. He slowly clenched his fist, with trembling jaw. Small tears streaming down his face. Perhaps...it was still the same tragedies in his life, nothing changed.
You walked out, and sighed. You had one goal in mind, revenge. You walked back to your new home in Mondstadt, and mailed the letter to Baizhu. You began cleaning up your new home, and throwing things away. Keeping somethings. You began turning the living room into a pharmacy with shelves and turning some rooms into patient rooms. After all, you were a dendro healer like your uncle. Just, without that cursed snake.
You were success, you made the place look homey and decent. You made one room your office, and kept the upstairs part as your home. A kitchen, a bedroom, and a smaller living room. You didn’t need much. You didn’t have much anyways. Not anymore. That version of you was lost long ago.
Next week, you stocked shelves and made proper arrangement for patient rooms, with tools and necessary items, thanks to Baizhu. He approved, and everything was shipped. You now deal with orders coming from Mondstatd, and anyone who needs assistance. You created a partnership with the church, specifically Barbara, who was happy to be in a partnership with you.
As she can bring her patience over, or be the doctor in charge if she liked, while you handle pharmaceutical things. You can send your customers to her, if you notice something serious within their health. This was perfect, as now that you had two sponsors, that were certified healers and doctors, you felt confident enough to open.
You were about to start a new life, on your own. This was a first step towards healing, as you never knew it at first. That was until you saw that face. The one you wanted to strangle. Immediately, you had eyes on her. This was the first servant, the phase one servant you called it, that one that lured you. She lured you to the area of the supposed accident. You lifted your sleeve up looking at the scars and back at her through the window.
Your face darken immediately, you walked to the window, and used your nails to scratch at the window.
The noise caught the servant's attention and turns towards you, as her blood ran cold. All she saw was your darken angry face, with scratch marks at the window. At first, she assumed she was being haunted, but once she realize you were real...you were alive...immediately, she turned and walked away. Running away.
Immediately you followed after her, you had a dog collar, a syringe and other medicinals on you. Pondering what to do to this little shit stain here. Strangle her? Comatose her? Keep her as a pet in the basement? Naked or rotten clothed? Poison? You wanted to give this women hell like no other, worse than death even. Maybe you can lobotomize her, make her bedridden, see how she likes it if her family relied on your pharmacy to get medicine for her.
All of a sudden you bumped into someone.
"My My...it has been a while, and it looks like you are on your way to d some..."business"..."
You looked up and widen your eyes. "Kaeya.." You muttered and slowly backed away.
"It has been quite a while...I knew you weren’t dead but I am actually glad to see you in the flesh again, old friend." Kaeya had a teasing smile, but you know it was genuine. He placed his hand on your back.
"I don’t know what is going on in that head of yours...but everyone has been telling me how scary you have become...what happened to you?"
"What happened to you? And your eye?" You made a rebuttal, as you remember Kaeya as a shy cry baby, who would always ask you or Diluc for help. But this man is entirely independent and ferocious. Manipulative and sly. He smelled like he drinks alcohol on a daily basis and...he was a knight.
Kaeya chuckled. "I guess we both have some explaining to do...let's have a drink. On me. We can do it at your place, since you have it empty right now." You looked at him and sighed. For some reason, Kaeya brings out a different side of you, a more vulnerable side, as if, he see right through you. He wasn’t like this before, however, it seems he can tell, or you are just showing your emotions too much and he can read them like a book.
As you Kaeya walked in your new home, and pharmacy, Diluc watched you both from a distance, as he was in the middle of entering Angel Share for his Shift. He tightened his grip on the door knob, as he was jealous. Why did he get such a cold treatment but you welcomed Kaeya with open arms...has he brainwashed you? He had an angry glare as he watched the door shut with the two of you in there, alone.
One thing for sure, you two were getting closer while he was in the sidelines watching.
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one-idea · 5 months
Text
The Spades save Ace Thriller bark part 3
Im going to push Ace and Deuces arrived back until after Luffy crushes Ora’s spine. After Moria absorbs the Shadows.
I want Ace to show up just in time to see Luffy get trapped in that shadow box.
I want Ace to watch as Moria punches Luffy through the wall and then stomps on him repeatedly.
Ace will lose it. Rushing Moria to get him away from Luffy. He’s about to burn the man to the ground when Luffy emerges from the box.
Luffy tells “This is my fight Ace.” And Ace knows that. Yes both of their crews are at risk but Luffy started this fight. And no one is going g to respect Luffy as a captain if his Big Brother finishes all of his fights for him. Ace knows all of this, and he hates it. He wants nothing more that to roast Moria like a thanksgiving turkey.
But he stands down, and puts his faith in Luffy.
Something much harder to do when Luffy’s crew members start yelling at Luffy about how his body can’t take the strain he’s putting it under, using second and third gear at the same time.
But Luffy does it. He beats Moria. As Moria goes down Ace sees Luffy go flying he shoots up to catch Luffy only to see how small Luffy has become. He’s so small smaller than when Ace first met him. And all Ace wants to do is get him out of here. He lands just as the shadows are released into the sky.
‘Thats it. Luffy did it.’ He thinks as he turns to face the rest of the crew Deuce running over to him. His best friend no doubt coming to check over Luffy and ease Ace’s worries.
But then the sun comes up. And everyone is screaming. Ace watches as the sunlight hits Deuce and he erupts into flames he starts to run forward but fells a sudden heat in his arms and realizes his movement brought Luffy into the sunlight and now his brother is burning to.
He can hear the others screaming for Mihar, Zoro, Sanji, and Robin.
what is happening? Luffy won. The shadows were released. Everyone should be fine! So why was Ace watching the two people he loved most burn before his eyes. He’s a fire man fire should never harm his loved ones.
But then just like that deuce stumbles forward the flames flying off of him to reveal that Deuce is fine. His shadow following him as he continues to run over to Ace. “That was awful. Remind me to never set myself on fire again.” Deuce tries to joke as he comes over and starts looking over the little Luffy in Ace’s arms. But Ace knows him well enough to see the true relief in his eyes that he’s not dead right now.
The cost of Luffy’s powers
The rest of the crew makes there way over with Chopper yelling at Ace to lay Luffy down so that they can get a good look at him. Right as Ace does Luffy reverts back to his regular size.
“Alright who wants to tell me what that-” Ace says gesturing to his little brother’s body. “Is all about.”
“I’d like to know myself.” Zoro confirmed as most of the crew looked between each other. Most of them had never seen little Luffy before.
Chopper explains what Luffy told him about gear three and its side effects.
Usopp voices his worries and concerns about how this is to much for Luffy’s body to handle and how the rest of the crew needs to start stepping up fast.
The Strawhats miss the looks that the Spade’s shoot around to each other. The same question bouncing in all of their heads. This crew is strong, but are they New World strong?
Ace already knows the answer.
Kuma’s arrival
The Thriller Bark Victims Club come over to thank them with Captain Lola proposes to everyone in the group. The group screens their “no” pretty loudly but then she starts pointing at each individual and asking again. She’s largely ignored until she points at Luffy which gets Ace to yell “he’s underage!” At her. (I wonder who else he might be yelling that at in the future)
Her underlings take over offering to “thank them properly” and Nami takes over the conversation once money is involved.
Ace is happy to let her do so until Nami freezes and starts to tell them “there’s another warlord on the island.” Ace tenses as he remembers Kuma’s presence as well.
Thats when they hear Kuma’s transponder sail.
They all turn to look as Nami tells them about Kuma. Ace jumps in as well. He explains that he was fighting Kuma while they were fighting Moria.
They hear every word of the transponder snail. Especially the order “eliminate the Strawhat crew and everyone else on Thriller Bark. Leave no one alive.”
Usopp and Chopper start freaking out. It took everything they had to beat Moria. They are all worn out.
Ace steps forward. “You all run. I’ve got a score to settle with Kuma.” The man had ran his all over this island with neither of them able to land a hit on the other. He could drag this out long enough to let the others escape.
But Zoro steps up right next to him. “I don’t think he’s going to let us leave.” He says as he walks to stand next to Ace. “The rest of you stay back. We’ll handle this.” He’s panting and beat half to death but there is nothing in this Earth that he will let by him to touch his captain and his crew.
Ace is impressed with his loyalty and strength but now isn’t the time for that.
They stand shoulder to shoulder ready to fight Kuma.
When the man disappears.
He reappears behind the Strawhat crew and attacks the Thriller Bark Victims Club. Showing off his power. Ace had already seen what this man could do but the brutality he put into struck such obviously weaker men is still a shock.
Then Kuma is gone again. Appearing behind Zoro and Ace. Both men turn to face the giant.
“Pirate Hunter Roronoa Zoro and Fire Fist Portagas D. Ace. Should I start the extermination with the two of you?”
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astragreenwoode · 6 months
Text
♡Truest Treasure (Adventure Time Petrigrof AU)♡ PT 5/?
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(A/N: Part 5. Finally, we've gotten to the events of the main show. About to get really spicy, so I hope you eat it up like I have been writing this.)
♡ My AU where pretty much everything is the same as in canon except Betty is unknowingly pregnant with her and Simon’s daughter when she jumps through the portal.
Italics - A/N
Slashed Text - NSFW
Bold Text - Sensitive Topics
Part of the Madness
♡ Betty’s whole arrival in Ooo is such a blur for her: jumping a thousand years into the future, beating the absolute shit out of Bella Noche, and finding and losing Simon again all in one day. It's all pretty overwhelming.
♡ Also, MAGIC IS REAL?
♡ She finds refuge in Wizard City. She's gained a bit of a reputation since defeating Bella Noche and bringing magic back to those who it was stolen from. Also, Finn was the only human in Ooo up until now. So where exactly did she come from?
♡ As fascinating as this new world was, Betty had bigger problems to worry about; all her meds were back on the bathroom counter a thousand years in the past. Without them, her intrusive, and often dark thoughts returned frequently. The need for more repetition and counting was more strong. Her mood rapidly changed like a game of hot and cold. And the withdrawal symptoms hurt like hell.
♡ She takes shelter in a tall, hollow tree, not far from Wizard City. The entrance is hidden by curtains of leaves and moss. Huntress Wizard helped her find it and gave her a few things to get her settled.
♡ To get by, Betty goes on quests for lazy wizards. They're the wizards who are too weird, cowardly, or stubborn to get ingredients/artifacts for spells and whatnot. They pay her either with money, favors, magic lessons, or trade items she needs.
♡ Betty briefly crosses paths with the main cast; Finn and Jake, Marcy and Bonnie, etc.
♡ Without her meds, Betty is sometimes too adventurous and borderline suicidal whenever she goes on a quest for someone.
♡ She spends a lot of her free time in Turtle Princess’ Library, learning all she can about the history of this strange world she found herself in. Betty gets so lost amongst all the books that she sometimes spends the night or multiple nights there.
♡ Sometimes, she'll catch Simon loitering around. Betty avoids him at all costs, hiding in another room or section of the library. It's too painful to face him. She finds herself breaking down if she looks at him for too long.
♡ After being in Ooo for a month, she's close to completely going insane. Huntress Wizard mixed up an elixir for her to help her mental state when they first met. Unfortunately, it's difficult to make.
♡ She asks each wizard she works with and observes if they can help her cure Simon. Everyone turns her down, saying it's impossible. That is until Magic Man enters the scene.
♡ MAGIC MAAANN!!!
♡ He knew next to nothing about who Betty was. Of course, he had noticed her around other Ooo with other wizards and going on quests and junk. Beyond that, all he knew was what others had been saying about her through gossip.
♡ Wizards LOOOVVE to gossip, btw.
♡ Magic Man finds out for himself one day what this mysterious human is actually like. Her general demeanor and personality reminded him of Margles; she was also impulsive and stubborn. A little bit crazy, too.
♡ But when he finally gets the chance to speak with her, Betty's brain is basically attacking her; she's talking non-stop about things that don't make sense to anyone, keeps laughing every once in a while for no reason, and scratches her arms so much that they bleed.
♡ He can tell she's pregnant right away with his wizard eyes. But more on that later.
♡ Completely weirded out (which is a hard thing to do to him), Magic Man suddenly decides he needs a little character development and NOT behave like a total dingwad for once. . .at least at first.
♡ He knocks Betty out with a spell and takes him to his house, putting her in a straightjacket and chaining her ankle to the floor of his bedroom just in case she does anything to harm herself again.
♡ Understandably, she freaks out when she wakes up. Magic Man lets her wear herself out when she screams and cries for like an hour or so before coming back in. He tells Betty he'll only let her out when he's sure she's not suicidal, anymore.
♡ After she calms down, he unchains her and takes off her straightjacket before offering a shower and fresh clothes..
♡ “Why?”
“Whaddya mean ‘why?’ Because you stink, dipstick! I traced your stench from Wizard City all the way to that Glob-damned tree of yours. That's why.”
“Fuck you, man!”
“Promise?”
♡ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
♡ All the clothes he gives her were once Margles’, by the way. He thinks Betty's really cute and he’s kinda trying to get laid, okay? He's a weird fucking creeper like that. Don't act like he wouldn't do that.
♡ They spend three days together until he decides she's no longer suicidal. Magic Man plays therapist with her and teases and jokes about all her problems.
♡ When he learns about her connection to the Ice King (or is it ‘Simon’ now? He doesn't care which. He's a jerk), he agrees to help teach Betty magic. Not that he believes it's possible to cure him, although he is curious. It's fun to watch her try. And he likes having her around. My dude may be an ass hat, but he's lonely.
♡ After the three days are up, he gives her some supplies and sets her free. He even gives her a more enhanced elixir that lasts longer for half the dosage.
♡ Now that Betty has an okay lead on fixing Simon, she has hope again for the first time since arriving in Ooo.
♡ Oftentimes, Betty hovers over the Ice Kingdom and observes him. Even though it hurts, she pushes through it like she's punishing herself.
♡ She goes back to Wizard City to observe other wizards and do her own research on magic. Magic Man meets her for lessons once a day.
♡ Tiny Manticore tries to warn Betty how dangerously insane Magic Man really is. Obviously, she doesn't listen. They do become sort of acquaintances, though.
♡ After a couple weeks of teaching, Magic Man becomes a little too. . .comfortable with her.
♡ “Sooooo. . .I'm not sure if you noticed, but Ooo’s human population is in the single digits zone. But Ive read all about you and I heard you guys are. . .pretty sexual creatures.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean??”
“It's whatever you want it to mean, Princess.”
“I’M NOT GOING TO SLEEP WITH YOU, YOU FUCKING WEIRDO!!”
“Yeah. . .we’ll see.”
♡ Even though he knows he's taking advantage of her vulnerability and her fragile state of mind, he still pursues her. He misses Margles'. Betty misses Simon. It would be beneficial for both of them to use each other in an attempt not to feel so lonely anymore. Right?
♡ Betty would be lying if she said she hadn't thought about it. She missed Simon so much. She missed being touched, too.
♡ Within a day of their last conversation, Betty experiences an intense drop in her mood. Overwhelmed by everything that she has been through lately, she turns to Magic Man in need of comfort, craving to be held and touched. He's more than glad to ‘help.’
♡ He lets her ride him before testing the waters further, pulling her hair and treating her like a ragdoll. she begs to be used, to be fucked harder and harder. It helps her forget everything bad for a while.
♡ This becomes their regular pastime.
♡ Since Magic Man’s also a total goofball, it shows during sex. Completely unprompted, as Betty’s close to cumming, he’ll wave his hands and say “Hey. Wanna see a magic trick??”
♡ He uses magic to make her orgasms more intense.
♡ Their relationship is. . .it's complicated. Let's just leave it at that.
♡ Betty's hair is a shade or two darker than the sand on Mars. It reminds Magic Man of home.
♡ Yes. Tiny Manticore can hear and occasionally see everything they're doing.
♡ He finds it hot in the beginning, just watching them like a total perv. Eventually, he gets tired and annoyed by it. They're both horny freaks, we know, but. . .how the fuck do they have that much stamina????
♡ No amount of therapy will ever make this bullshit okay.
♡ It’s no secret Magic Man is the biggest Jerk in all of Ooo. And he is just as bad in the sheets. He gets off on the power he holds over Betty, and how dependent she is on his company since she can’t be with Simon.
♡ Magic Man doesn't say anything to Betty about her unknown pregnancy until a month after they started their whole ‘friends with benefits’ dynamic when he saw her throw up for the first time.
♡ “What's the matter, Betty? Did the plague finally come back and take you as its first victim??”
“No, you asshole. It's just a stomach bug. Eating wild fruit will do that to you.”
“Yeah, sure. It could be a big. Or. . .”
“‘Or,’ what?”
“Maybe. . .you got knocked up???”
“That's. . .that's not funny.”
“Was it supposed to sound funny?? Am I laughing??”
“Nope. Nuh-uh. No way. Can't be.”
“Are you suuurre?? When's the last time Mother Nature visited and spilled red wine where the sun don't shine, Bethany???”
♡ Even though they're both irresponsible and nasty AF, they take precautions. Magic Man never finishes inside of Betty. But he's only genetically compatible with other Martians, so it doesn't matter either way.
♡ Over the next few weeks of studying magic, MMS, and fucking around with each other, Magic Man teases Betty at least once a day about being pregnant. She always brushes him off, thinking he's just messing with her like he normally does.
♡ At the same time, she can't deny that her mood swings are more intense than usual, her breasts are swelling, and she's craving odd combinations of food.
♡ Just the very thought of having a baby without Simon beside her was enough to send her into a panic attack. She couldn't be a parent if she wasn't properly medicated like she was a thousand years back in the past. What if she hurt her baby? What if she accidentally killed it? It hurt too much to think about. So, she didn't.
♡ It isn't until after she does the ritual with Magic Man to make him the king of Mars that she realizes he was telling the truth.
♡ Having MMS suddenly forced upon her, along with the overwhelming amount of knowledge of the universe now in her head didn't help. With her new Wizard eyes and awareness of her body, Betty could no longer lie to herself about what was happening to her.
♡ “LATERS!!!”
Reblog, follow me, and come back for Part 6!
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yowyowyaoi · 1 year
Text
Zetsu’s Daily Texts from the Akatsuki
From Nagato
You can’t keep eating them without checking to see if we’re using them first.
300 miles? Is that really the closest?!
I can put you with Tobi or Hidan. Take your pick.
Put the letters where they can find them, then stay somewhere hidden to see their reactions.
Keep an eye on them please. No explosions, no sacrifices. Nothing to draw attention.
I’ve been practicing every day. Legs feel stronger.
I’d only risk it if you also want to risk being placed in a gengetsu.
I’m sure I’ll be gone before her. All I ask is she be well taken care of. It’s all that matters.
No. Under no circumstances. I need them all ALIVE and able to work, please.
You can ask but she’ll probably hit you hard enough to REALLY split you in half.
From Kakuzu
Yes well your appetite is proving quite costly.
Find where he’s hiding and I’ll give you a third of his bounty.
I’m not so sure that “intelligence” is a quality I’d associate with any of them.
Actually if you could naturally produce that we could sell bottles and make some money 🤔
Much, much too expensive.
I don’t care if you eat him but wait until I get his heart out first.
I’d rather you ate me; my body won’t be on display for him to entertain Deidara with.
It’s complicated. And by complicated I mean I let a one time physical urge turn into a years-long relationship. 
It’s the 1st. Rent and utilities are due. 
If I didn’t we wouldn’t have *anything*. Be grateful.
I’m not sure if my threads would hold for plant-skin.
Stop losing them for God’s sake each one costs $50 in materials to make!!
I’ll take your word for it. That voice creeps me out.
From Konan
Please don’t ever do that again. Nagato almost had a heart attack. 😡
It’s funny in a shouldn’t be funny way.
Wait you’ve seen him without the mask 👀
No I don’t care if they’re annoying we don’t have the time to replace them now!!
Ask Sasori to take a look. He enjoys a challenge.
I don’t care how easy it was to get, I’m NOT cooking with that kind of “meat” 🤢
No offense but do you even have nails 🤔
I’d rather we didn’t need to pick up and move again unless absolutely necessary.
Since we were children 🥰
I’d kill anyone who tried. With my bare hands.
Kisame may be able to but the rest will need it cooked.
You’re THAT old?! 😵‍💫
Stick to guys. I will remain the only woman in this group.
Can’t you eat them? Aren’t you part Venus fly trap??
From Hidan
Freak.
Then stop watching, weirdo!
Because if you take the body before my praying is finished then the entire ritual is void!!
Not to be gay but yeah I see what he sees. 
Then steal him some damn glasses next time!
But do plants even have dicks? Like is it green? Does it smell like grass? 🤔
He’s such a liar he wanted me since the day we met 😂
I saw you eyeing that cat and so did Itachi.
How do you say “Fuck you” in plant-speak?
They’re not “pink” they’re “rose”, heathen.
Ribs without sauce is like fucking without lube. Like what’s even the point?
If I could convert even one of those fucks I’d become a High Priest for Jashin.
Can’t. Kakuzu’s “withholding my paycheck” until I pay off that bounty of his that I killed. 🙄
So come with us. Everyone’s weird you’ll fit right in.
From Sasori
Elderberry, nightshade, and primrose. For now.
A mouse learns to fear other mice before it even thinks about predators.
Please stop that you gave him nightmares last time and I couldn’t work on my puppets for a whole week 😒
I don’t care as long as it has a big enough space for a lab.
Damn blue eyes trapped me for eternity.
An interesting experiment, certainly.
I have vague memories but that’s all.
You appear to be “friends” so talk to him and tell him to back off. 
Who do you think I am? That freak Orochimaru?!
I don’t buy that stupid act for a second.
If I suggested aloe vera would you find that insulting?
You and I are the least bothersome in terms of eating. I don’t, and you hunt.
I’ll contribute when the expense is relative to me.
From Kisame
So far only Itachi knows about it but the water there is clear and beautiful.
Your way of thinking is truly fascinating.
Of course you’re welcome to join us but you’ve voiced objections before to both tea and sweets.
No, I’ll BURY him myself before I let you eat him.
Crab and shrimp. Especially crab.
I’m aware. His smell is getting weaker and his chakra is shaky.
I admire your patience for it but I don’t do so well in the sun for so long.
Again? Why?? Who attracted attention this time? 😒
I don’t but Samehada seems to.
The battlefield is empty. Care to join me at the buffet? 😋
Between the prayer rituals and the constant bombing I just can’t handle either of them.
Salt is for the weak. Pure fear flavors the meat better than any seasoning. 
From Deidara
You can’t prove that was me, that could have been anyone!
If I’m successful there won’t BE anything left of me to eat so 🤷🏼
Idk you just look gray. Maybe stand in the sun for a while?
Ok we may eat more BUT his food costs more!
Wait is it real hair or like plant stuff 🤔
I didn’t this time he was dancing and he tripped on his cloak like an idiot.
Honestly not until I met Sasori lol 
Omg where?! Riverbanks are always a goldmine of natural clay! 🤩
I get that but I’m just not interested, eternity is so boring.
Low key he goes into this voice sometimes that scares the piss out of me.
Bc it’s weird man it’d be like watching my mother shower or something 😖
Like usual he couldn’t shut up and almost got us killed on the spot 😡
Not unless you want to pick the lice out of my hair afterwards.
From Itachi
Not sure of the exact dynamics but I think it’s second or third cousins.
Maybe it’s best we all just live with our own partners. Too many in one area and eventually someone figures it out.
No he’s as gentle as possible. I just have sensitive skin.
Yes but cabbage is so versatile.
You saw him? Did he look well? 👀
The glasses help some but most everything is still a massive blur.
I tried. Nagato tried. He refuses to give up on the idea.
There is no “before” and there’s no “after0. There’s just NOW.
No I know he ate it because he had the jam smeared all over his collar.
22 doesn’t really interest me.
From Obito
The right arm still twitches if I try to lift too much.
Come on weren’t YOU happy when he died?!
He can’t turn me down forever. Just picture him with the Uchiha fan on his back 😍
Yeah well he’s still my little cousin and I still worry.
I think it scares him a little, he almost walked into a tree that first time I did it on accident.
It’s not excessive; the sugar is literally the only thing pushing me forward right now.
I would bet money that he’s the worst Sensei ever to those kids. No wonder Sasuke was so weak.
The constant money woes are so tedious.
Blind or not his reflexes are unmatched and he could still take me out in one move.
We should have put more emphasis on intelligent and less on “skills”.
You’ve gotta admit the explosions DO liven things up 🤷🏻
What if you ate him and he could still talk from inside of your stomach though? Is that a chance you want to take?
Bonus: From Madara
He stopped responding two years ago he acts like I’m dead.
What? That little shit. 😡
If the blonde is giving him too much of a distraction, dispose of him.
You don’t need to pre-chew my food I’m not a baby bird.
Have you seen my good blanket?
What happened to my slippers?
🍆 I want this. I’m craving this so bad. Please bring it to me.
Tell that boy to come back I need a good bath and a haircut.
Perhaps if you hadn’t recruited so many *brats* you wouldn’t be having such an issue.
Whatever you do, do NOT let them breed.
Did you remember where I stashed my last painting of Hashirama?
If I was younger I could have eliminated the entire group within seconds. They’d never even know what hit them.
Please procure a backscratcher and industrial grade toenail clippers.
Wait until he sleeps and move several large rocks into his room. I guarantee he’ll cry.
First that young lass, then the Hatake boy, now the blonde. He never learns his lesson does he?
What do you mean he cut it?? An Uchiha’s hair is his crown! Tell him to get back here NOW.
I should have chosen Fugaku’s son instead. Likely a lot less crying.
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lonniemachin · 5 months
Text
Ibrahim reached out to me to help share his fundraiser. His last fundraiser did not work out due to Germany taking 43% in tax, and so he has started a new one with support from an organizer. He is a Palestinian medical student urgently raising money to evacuate he and his family. He has only made $265 out of his $40,000 goal so far, and the IOF’s planned invasion of Rafah is imminent! Please share and donate, and if you can’t donate, please still share!
Ibrahim’s Twitter/X account: @ibrahimhelp
From Ibrahim’s GFM:
Hi, my name is Gigi. I met Ibrahim on Instagram, like so many families devastated by this war/genocide. Gaza is destroyed and everyone there is desperate to escape to save their lives and the lives of their love ones. I just can’t imagine having to deal with that, we will never know even an ounce of what that feels like. When Ibrahim reached out to me and told me that Germany takes 50% of the Gofundme, that’s outrageous, of course I will help him and send 100% of all the money that is donated! These are some desperate times and these governments are taking advantage of these poor people. Greed over life. So this is me helping out my fellow brothers and sisters in Palestine. Please donate if you can, gofundme takes donations from $5 and up, from that $5, they take about .45 so it comes out to $4.55. That’s not even the price of a starbucks these days. 1 day no Starbucks to save a family and to save on calories! Win win in my books!
Ibrahim: Hello, I am Ibrahim. I live in northern Gaza. I live with my family consisting of 7 people, a father, a mother, 2 brothers, 3 sisters, and me. I study human medicine at Al-Azhar University in Gaza. Before October 7, my family had a house and a car. And now there is nothing. On October 12, my house was completely destroyed and all possessions and dreams were destroyed. My family and I want to complete our dreams and our lives by leaving Gaza and settling in Egypt. This costs a lot of money, as it costs the whole family 40000 Dollars, and we do not have that because money was lost during the bombing and war. I was also forced to flee from northern Gaza to southern Gaza, where there is suffering. We get water and food with great difficulty. I ask for your support to complete my dream of studying medicine and my family’s dream, hoping for a better life.
I have had the dream of studying medicine since childhood, but now that my dream has become more important and my goal of studying medicine has become an inevitable goal in relation to what I saw of the urgent need for doctors in my city of Gaza in this war in which we are still living until this moment. I write this letter after more than four months of bombing, destruction, famine and genocide to which we have been subjected. I took the first steps to achieving my dream after I finished my high school studies and obtained a 96.3% average. I registered at Al-Azhar University and specialized in medicine. I started studying in September 2022, and I only completed two weeks of my second year of study, almost on the path to my dreams before this war began and the occupation bombed and demolished my university. As I did in all the universities in the Gaza Strip, my dream vanished with it. The financial burden on my father has become unbearable, especially in light of the bad conditions caused by the war and the destruction of my home. It may take my father many years to rebuild it and put in everything he possibly owns. In the end, I aspire to be an exceptional doctor in my field, in order to help the people of my city of Gaza who suffer from various physical disabilities, such as amputation of limbs and others, and health problems resulting from war and fighting. Many, many medical personnel were killed while carrying out their duties in hospitals, clinics and medical facilities, which led to the collapse of the health system in the Gaza Strip, so I hope to continue my dream of studying this specialty as soon as possible.
Now I hope that my voice will be heard and that you will help me continue my university studies outside Gaza and build my dream and my family’s dream again, become a doctor, serve the world, and support my family. I hope you take my call to your hearts and spread hope to the world, and thank you to everyone who will help me achieve my dream.
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2. "Drunks and degenerates -- that's my crew!"
GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - "Dark times will do that to good men." He nods gravely, then shifts his gaze to the pile of soggy logs at his feet.
AUTHORITY [Easy: Success] - *Serious* question time. This man is no innocent. No one is.
"Do you know anything about the man hanged behind the Whirling-in-Rags?"
"Is this your mug?" (Hold up the Yellow Man Mug.)
"Are you a cryptozoologist too?"
"You were *surprised* to see my colleague, Lieutenant Kitsuragi."
"Thank you for your cooperation." [Leave.]
GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - "Oh, so *that's* what the RCM in Martinaise is about? Great." He nods in sincere approval. "Great to hear someone's finally taking care of that."
KIM KITSURAGI - "So you *do* know something about it?"
GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - "No, no," he shakes his head emphatically. Then corrects his tie. "Nothing. He was some kind of mercenary, but everyone here knows that... I'm just glad to hear you're looking into it, that's all."
COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] - He's not feeling very comfy in his clothes, is he? Strange...
DRAMA [Medium: Success] - He didn't *kill* him or anything, but there's something going on here.
2. "Is this your mug?" (Hold up the Yellow Man Mug.)
GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - "My... mug? Why would you think that?"
COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] - His eyes widened at the sight of the mug. He's seen it before alright.
"You said 'Yellow Man'. That's not something many people go around saying."
"It seemed as if you were calling to it *longingly* when you cried 'Yellow Man'!"
"I can *see* you recognize it. It's in your eyes."
"You look like the kind of guy who might have a *collection* of mugs like this. Home -- in his *colonial mug collection*."
GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - "How do you mean? Forgive me, officer, but we've only just met."
DRAMA [Medium: Success] - He is trying to avoid lying to you outright in case you really have been to his apartment.
HALF LIGHT [Medium: Success] - He's trying not to look afraid, because that would be incriminating. Yet he *is*.
"Just admit it, man. You put the mug in the trash container behind the Whirling."
"You're acting kind of suspicious. Did I mention the mug was found at the scene of a lynching?"
"Alright, I believe you. You look like the kind of man who knows it's a *crime* to lie to an officer."
GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - "Maybe... okay, yes. I did. I know I shouldn't have, and I am very sorry, officer." He pauses. "You're not going to fine me, are you?"
"I am…" (Rip out a fine slip.) "For 20 reál."
"I am…" (Rip out a fine slip.) "For 100 reál."
"I am." (Rip out a fine slip.) "For 250 reál -- the maximum."
"Nah, Gary. I just want information."
We're not actually going to *see* this money, as you may remember -- it goes to the RCM. It's purely a matter of how mean we want to be to Gary.
GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - "Okay, I deserve that -- and I won't do it again." He accepts the slip of copy paper with a bow. "You have my word."
"I don't know what got *into* me. Stuffing my garbage in another man's property, it's… I've been having trouble at work lately. The Kojkos are price dumping us out of competition."
MORELL, THE CRYPTOZOOLOGIST - "WHAT DID YOU DO, GARY?!"
GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - "NOTHING! Nothing... just answering some questions. Helping out the law..."
"How did you get into the trash container?"
"Gary, did you put the clothes of a murder victim -- the man who was hanged behind the Whirling-in-Rags -- into that trash container?"
GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - "I know a guy who works with trash collection services -- CS Municipal. He gave me a master key for the trash containers of Martinaise."
"Why would you need to get into everyone's trash?"
GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - "So I can use the Whirling's trash compactor to store my own stuff," he says, bowing shamefully like a fallen knight. "Garbage disposal is expensive as hell, the damn Himeans run it like a mob..."
"I'm sorry, okay? I thought I could cut costs. I shouldn't have. I shouldn't have disgraced myself."
KIM KITSURAGI - "Disgraced?" The lieutenant raises his eyebrows and looks up. "No need for the histrionics, sir. It was, after all, just a trash container."
REACTION SPEED [Easy: Success] - He studies his reaction. Gary doesn't answer.
2. "Gary, did you put the clothes of a murder victim -- the man who was hanged behind the Whirling-in-Rags -- into that trash container?"
GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - "Officer, please..." He raises both hands. "Let me explain. It's not like *that...*"
"Do."
GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - "I was only cleaning up. I live right across the yard from where he was hanged and I saw him stripped naked. All the clothes lying around in the yard, smelling... People are animals, you know..."
"Yes-yes. What happened?"
"Okay. Then what happened?"
GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - "Then I came out to clean up the rags because *no one else would*. I put them into the Whirling's trash -- along with a broken mug, admittedly..." He changes his mind mid-sentence.
"Okay, I was coming to throw the mug away and, well, I threw the mug there and the clothes too."
KIM KITSURAGI - "Right, it was just *civic duty*," the lieutenant remarks drolly.
GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - "Exactly! That's exactly what it was -- civic duty."
PERCEPTION (HEARING) [Medium: Success] - As he shifts uncomfortably, a series of clicks, like the clinking of glass beads against one another as they roll across a hardwood floor. You've heard this sound before, but where?
3. "What's that strange sound?"
GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - "What... sound?"
"That clinking I just heard when you moved."
"Don't mess with me. I think you know what I'm talking about."
GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - "Really?" He fans his arms out slowly, and, this time, his motions are soundless.
"There's lots of weird stuff out here in the reeds, though -- insects, trash. Could be the wind shifting some garbage nearby."
SHIVERS [Medium: Success] - Every day, the wind shifts the reeds and whatever was left in them: tambourines and condom wrappers, plastic and glass bottles, the smell of decay.
PERCEPTION (HEARING) [Challenging: Success] - The sound you heard was not the sound of something easily abandoned.
4. "You wouldn't know anything about the victim's missing armour would you?"
GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - "Armour? No." He changes his mind. "I mean -- yes, of course. I know he was wearing armour. But I don't know anything *about* it..."
DRAMA [Medium: Success] - An infant could see he's not telling the truth -- but he's too scared to admit more wrongdoing.
COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] - There's something going on here. You should observe him more closely, after this topic is concluded.
5. "Let's move on -- for now." (Conclude.)
GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - "I hope I could help your investigation, in my small way." He's visibly relieved it's over.
+5 XP
LOGIC [Medium: Success] - Hmm, does this mean you were in *his* apartment, admiring *his* colonial mug collection? Perhaps it would be *interesting* to tell him...
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3. "Are you a cryptozoologist too?"
GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - "No-no... I help Morell with research sometimes and I've learned some things along the way. But I don't usually go in for picnics like this on my own."
AUTHORITY [Medium: Success] - What *does* he do then? This feels like a good opportunity to DOMINATE him.
"What do you do, then? If not cryptozoology?"
"Fascinating. Let's talk about something else."
GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - "Oh, this and that." He grins.
"Sounds intriguing."
"Sounds shady."
"As long you're making ends meet and advancing your career objectives."
GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - "Sometimes."
AUTHORITY - See? He's being evasive. Shake him up, show him who's boss.
"That's not an answer."
Let it go.
GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - "I just didn't want to bore you with unnecessary detail, officer."
"I work as a special courier. You know, urgent deliveries, overnight deliveries, deliveries to out-of-the-way locations."
"So you deliver things. What kinds of things?"
"Fascinating. Let's talk about something else."
GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - "Oh, I don't know the contents, officer. Part of my job is discretion."
COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] - He's trying too hard to seem untroubled by your question. The rigidity in his posture gives him away.
"Do you deliver drugs?"
"Do you deliver guns?"
"Do you deliver letters to the secret mistresses of corporate and government officials?"
"C'mon, you've already behaved suspiciously with the trash container business, stop evading the question."
"Oh, I guess that's okay then." (Conclude.)
GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - "No, no, that's far too dangerous. Besides, dealing drugs isn't for people like me and you, officer."
2. "Do you deliver guns?"
GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - "No, nothing like that. I leave that to companies with hundreds of years of tradition in arms manufacturing. No need for an amateur like me cutting in."
3. "Do you deliver letters to the secret mistresses of corporate and government officials?"
GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - "What do I look like, a pansy? Besides, that kind of cavorting goes against the community values that would strengthen our city."
SUGGESTION [Trivial: Success] - You're a simple cop asking a simple question. He can't beat around the bush much longer.
4. "C'mon, you've already behaved suspiciously with the trash container business, stop evading the question."
GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - He sighs. "Okay, fine, you got me. I'm a special *topping pie* delivery courier."
"What?"
GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - "You heard me. I deliver topping pies. It's temporary. I'm looking for another job. Not many jobs for good men out there these days."
"You said you deliver *special* topping pies. What makes these topping pies special?"
GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - "They're wheat-free. And vegan. And... *huge*." He pauses.
SUGGESTION [Easy: Success] - He's thinking of a way to gain some advantage from his embarrassing situation.
GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - "That's basically it. I'm a pie delivery man. How about we change the subject?"
ENDURANCE [Challenging: Failure] - I'm satisfied. Are you satisfied? Because I am.
4. "You were *surprised* to see my colleague, Lieutenant Kitsuragi."
GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - "Not many Seolites here, or anywhere, other than Seol. I meant no offence, truly."
KIM KITSURAGI - "Do you remember how when we met Measurehead and I said the next racist will be the *really* good one?"
"Yes."
"I think so. Sorry, as you know, I've been having problems with my memory…"
KIM KITSURAGI - "Well..." He gestures toward Gary as though he were presenting a work of art. "*This* is that racist."
+5 XP
"Yes! Our *lucky* racist."
"Will you grant us three wishes, Gary?"
"Are you, Gary? Are you a racist?"
"I don't know. I liked the previous racists better."
"He is nothing compared to Measurehead."
GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - "Hey, man." He blushes. "All I meant was there are not many Seolites around here. I'm just stating a fact."
"Do you have a problem with Seolites?"
"The lieutenant is a native of Revachol."
"Yes. What *are* they doing in that Seol of theirs? Scheming?"
GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - "Oh, yes, of course he is. I was just speaking about his... connections." He flashes an impenetrable smile. "Let's change the subject, okay?"
Well, if you insist.
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5. [Composure - Legendary 14] Why's he shifting around like that? Analyze Gary's composure.
+1 Clinking sound. +1 Thinking about the armour.
COMPOSURE [Legendary: Success] - That shirt looks *very* uncomfortable on him. Look at the buttons, barely keeping that thing together -- as if something is ready to *rip out* from underneath.
His massive musculature?
Something worn underneath it?
COMPOSURE - No, he's scrawny. Try again.
Something worn underneath it?
COMPOSURE - Yes. Like a piece of ceramic armour, for example. One that makes a clicking sound when the plates meet each other, resembling pearls or marbles. Stolen from the corpse in the yard near where he lives.
"I see you're a connoisseur of high-quality combat gear."
GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - "I knew you'd figure it out, officer." He sighs heavily. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you at once. I was..." He unbuttons the shirt.
"I was ashamed of what I did. And I didn't want you to know." You see gleaming white ceramic shine underneath -- a thin layer of interlocking plates covers his gaunt torso.
DRAMA [Medium: Success] - We're not detecting falsehoods, sire. He's gearing up to admit the truth.
EMPATHY [Easy: Success] - This *shame* is surprisingly sincere.
MORELL, THE CRYPTOZOOLOGIST - "GARY! WHAT'S GOING ON?!"
GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - "LATER, MORELL! I'VE GOT APOLOGIZING TO DO."
KIM KITSURAGI - "No -- you've got *explaining* to do." The lieutenant's tone is icy.
"Give me that armour. Now."
"Why did you *really* put those clothes in the trash?"
"Why did you lie to me, Gary?"
"Do you know who killed the hanged man?"
GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - He sighs again, hangs his head, and unbuttons his shirt fully. A cuirass that matches the dead man's boots comes into view. Soon it is in your hands -- smelling of his sweat.
Item gained: Fairweather T-500 Cuirass
INTERFACING [Medium: Success] - But so, so light to hold. Like a bag of cotton.
2. "Why did you *really* put those clothes in the trash?"
GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - "Everyone was picking those pieces off him and I was watching them do it. And they scattered his clothes all over the yard, everything was smelling..." He looks at his feet.
"So I went there to take out my trash and started cleaning up. All those rags on the ground, him swinging up there, and…" He swallows. "I had a lapse of honour, sir. I thought: He's a foreigner. They all say he wasn't from here."
"Only the cuirass was left, so I stripped it off him. It was early in the morning, no one saw me. I took it with me. It was a mistake. Had I known it'd give you guys' trouble, I wouldn't have..." His lips start quivering. "Fuck..."
DRAMA [Medium: Success] - We're detecting sincere contrition here, sire. He's not trying to flatter anyone.
KIM KITSURAGI - "It's okay." The lieutenant jots something down in his notebook. "It was a loose end and you're tying it up now."
GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - "I'm so fucking sorry I called you *Yellow Man*." He says silently. "Seolite officers commanded the Suzerain's navy. Most of them sided with the King, when..." He shakes his head.
ESPRIT DE CORPS [Easy: Success] - It's difficult to say what the lieutenant thinks of this historic apology. His face does not belie emotions.
3. "Why did you lie to me, Gary?"
GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - "Because I was weak." He says, staring at nothing in particular. "I should have told you the moment I saw you, but..."
MORELL, THE CRYPTOZOOLOGIST - "THE HELL, GARY?! YOU IN TROUBLE?"
GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - "I'll explain later..." He doesn't muster up the strength to yell.
4. "Do you know who killed the hanged man?"
GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - "I always thought it was the Union... some Union hard-asses. Lynched him because of the strike. But almost everyone in town knows that. I wish I could tell you more..." He shakes his head.
DRAMA [Medium: Success] - This is all he knows.
5. "Are we done here, Gary?" (Conclude.)
GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - "Yes. Absolutely. I will *never* do anything like this again." He looks around, relieved of some burden, his mouth still quivering.
Task complete: Who put the clothes in the trash?
+30 XP
Level up!
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FAIRWEATHER T-500 CUIRASS
+1 Pain Threshold: Thicker skin +1 Volition: Borrowed confidence -1 Empathy: Mania of invulnerability
This vitreous enamel cuirass fits snugly and redistributes kinetic energy across its countless white plates. Amazingly, it fits under your coat! And it also makes pretty porcelain sounds when shaken.
4. "So, Gary, you live nearby. In an apartment in Martinaise?" (Point in its direction.)
GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - "Sure do, officer."
PERCEPTION (SIGHT) [Medium: Success] - His eyes narrow slightly. He's wondering where this is going.
"Have you found your door open lately?"
"And you're a big Man from Hjelmdall fan?"
"Yes, he insisted that I open the door to your apartment."
"I think I broke into your apartment. I'm very sorry."
"We'll return to this later. For now, let me ask you something else."
GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - "In my home, yes, when I was going to..." His face turns pale. "How did you *know?*"
"Mr. Evrart Claire thought it necessary to unlock your apartment."
"Nothing. Just wanted to ask if your door's been unlocked lately. Now I have."
GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - "Mr. Claire unlocked my apartment?"
"No, I did. Took a look around, too."
"No, I did. Don't worry, I didn't go in." (Lie.)
GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - "So you work for Evrart Claire!" He realizes what's going on and changes his tone: "Officer, please tell him we're good. No, no, tell him I'll make it up to him..."
"What have I done? He'll send the muscle after me…" The man looks around, whispering, he makes sure no one hears you talk.
COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] - As he lowers his tone he hunches his back.
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Note
Unpopular Opinion: "Men suffer from toxic (you know what goes here) and Women suffer from sexism" is a fancy way of saying women are allowed to snap from trauma, whereas men should blame themselves and make sure they're never a danger to anyone else.
And boy, does society love that last one. Victim blaming at its finest.
This ask hits kind of a personally relevant note for me, so apologies if this is longer than you expected.
I think there's some kind of logic behind this, like people will say this about a woman on the assumption that she has exhausted every possible avenue of help, and found no help forthcoming, whereas they will say the other thing about a man on the assumption that help has been offered to him and he flatly refused to take it. Men will do anything rather than go to therapy! etc. etc.
And I think what this misses is the ways that everyone, including these same people, can even unknowingly disincentivise men from actually getting help.
I haven't told anyone I know IRL about this, but yesterday, I started therapy. It's costing me money out of my own pocket because Medicare only covers about 65% of the full price of an appointment—and that's if you've already gone to a GP and paid more money to get a referral. I digress. The point is, every single one of my friends I opened up to about my problems was like "Dude. Seek help. Now." It kinda made me feel ashamed for opening up about my problems in the first place, to anyone other than a trained professional. Yes, there was also a 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th place, so I can understand how it might have been hard to deal with, but the feeling remained.
Eventually, it reached the point where I could no longer justify my "self-improvement using only myself" regimen against my punishingly restrictive budget. Not only because my ability to cope reached an end, but because my budget finally got a bit more relaxed. So I listened to my friends and booked an appointment with my GP, then with a psychologist she referred me to.
First impressions are everything, and I have to be frank, I don't think I built much of a rapport with this guy. But the main issue was—
If you've ever had mental health issues, what's the one thing that always prevents you from seeking help?
Correct, that your problems are tiny and not worthy of consideration next to the grand scale of human suffering. Why should the psychologist be helping you, when there are actively suicidal people or people in prison or abuse survivors, all with way worse problems than you, whom he could be helping instead?
People around you will insist that all mental health struggles are valid, that there isn't, like, a minimum standard for how desperate you need to feel before you seek help.
I wasn't really sure how to start, so I just told him the story of what happened to me during the pandemic. The way my ex and I drifted apart, the way I sacrificed some of my needs during that time to make sure hers were met, the financial pressure I felt from my parents cajoling me into buying a house, other seemingly close friends (at least 3 of them?) ghosting me without the slightest explanation.
And all he could say at the end, when I'd run out of things to talk about, was "What do you want me to do here?"
I can understand why a question like that might be asked in therapy settings, but hearing it so bluntly like that... it genuinely made me feel like my problems were insignificant on a scale I hadn't imagined. It was said in a way that suggested there was nothing here for us to latch onto, nothing for us to improve upon, just me whining about stuff that happened ages ago. It hurt.
Obviously I didn't have much of an answer to give. If I knew what to do about the things that were making me feel sad, I would have done them myself without paying $60 for a middle-man to tell me to do them. Broadly speaking, I would like the bad feelings to go away and my awkward behaviour in certain situations to stop! Was that not obvious? You're the expert! If you listened to me talk for 40 minutes and you don't think there's a clear and obvious way forward, what does that say about the scope and severity of my problems?
I don't think I'll stick with this guy. My point here is, I think people should be a lot more careful about recommending therapy to men, because they can be so careless about dismissing men's problems out of hand with the other side of their mouth. Whether that takes the form of mocking people for male tears, or chastising them because women aren't your therapists and can't be expected to perform that kind of emotional labour, or any other of a number of subconscious biases that still insist "Your problems aren't actually real."
To be quite honest, I don't even think therapy will be a productive avenue for me. That kind of thing never factors into these conversations though, and I think that's because a lot of "men need therapy" discourse is entirely performative.
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itmeblog · 1 year
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hey! i have context for you, re: the thing that both tonia and the person on bluesky would have have been responding to. it's towards the end of anonymousad's hellishly long and weird shelterwood takedown and it, uh, doesn't exactly make them look any better. if you want to see if you can """read and understand""" (lmao, you're right, that sucks so bad) the true meaning of their words, here they are, in full context so as to avoid accusations of cherrypicking! "as an example, let's look at the Afflicted Season 2 crowdfunding campaign that just ended in failure.
this was a FIXED GOAL campaign. they were asking for $23,500 USD and they only made it to $13,283, just over 50% of the way there. so they got none of it. it was all or nothing and the result this time was nothing.
and that really sucks for a lot of reasons.
I had some criticisms about that campaign that I kept to myself at the time, in part because diverse voices in audio drama is really important. Afflicted provided a lot of opportunities for marginalized creators to get established and share their unique voices. so often the campaigns that are getting met are the ones that continue to prop up the same types of voices and experiences as we've all heard before.
I am much more interested in the unique horror that a show like Afflicted is bringing to the table as a production driven by a Black woman than I am with hearing from the same types of voices we are used to. we have a lot of similar people making stuff in the community, and frankly a lot of our "diversity" is mostly driven by being white and queer. these voices are important too and there's a lot that is good, but that is the majority in this space. that's why we need to make sure we are getting opportunities to the people who don't have the privilege or connections.
this is a personal opinion, not one everyone will agree with. but we are better as a community when we do extra work to make sure that more varied diversity is highlighted and supported.
Afflicted planted their foot saying "this much or nothing" and took the gamble that most of these high number campaigns are unwilling to do. a gamble that they succeeded in last year to fund the first season.
the difference is partly that the economy looked really different last year. disposable income, rent prices, general cost of living. it wasn't great, but it was better than it is now and that MATTERS. we all know how fucking bad it is right now, especially in the US, so to be asking these massive amounts of money is tone deaf. in this case, Afflicted was even asking for MORE than they raised for season 1. you could argue some of that is because they already managed to prove themselves as creators who were good for the money and deserved that kind of chance.
but the fact of the matter is that people just don't have that kind of cash to give over and over.
which leads into my main point.
every time I see a campaign with this high of a goal I think one thing:
"this is hurting the community."
now, that may not sound reasonable to some of you, especially if you are one of the people who believes that numbers this high are justifiable.
when we talk about supporting each other from a audio drama creator standpoint, it is done so freely and with an understanding that new listeners isn't really a thing we're going to run out of. if I recommend 10 podcasts I like, that doesn't hurt MY show. it just helps the community by sharing things we generally enjoy and care about it. this is how you end up with the networks of support that we've seen in newer places like the Audio Drama Lab.
unfortunately, money is not the same.
the amount of money that each of us has to give to support the things we like is limited based on our individual situations. anyone recommending a specific crowdfunding campaign to give money to DOES have an impact on the amount of money left in the pool for others.
so when something like Shelterwood or Arden or Afflicted or Among the Stacks or The Magnus fucking Protocol asks for these amounts, this is ACTIVELY impacting whether other campaigns will succeed."
Ooooh, okay, okay, okay.
So
Thank you for sending me the context, I do quite enjoy reading drama at times
I actually don't mind accusations of cherry picking, it's fine either way but thank you for your concern. It's very sweet.
The main reason I'm about to do what I'm about to do is because I've actually had microaggressions on the brain for plot reasons and this is positively wonderful practice to put these things into words.
Alright, so OPs argument here is that there's a set amount of money in the AD pool from which we can draw from, and that taking bigger draws for a production leaves too little for the rest of the AD community.
I'm not going to argue whether this is true or false right now (but I am going to point out...what this echoes later and why I do not like the argument) and instead am going to continue as if this statement is fact.
My question is why bring up the race and gender of Afflicted's creator? The entire diversity statement here is completely unnecessary. If the argument is that big budget audio dramas are taking too much money, and that is detrimental to ADs economic ecosystem then it does not matter if Afflicted's show runner was an alien from Venus. OPs decision to bring up the race and gender of the showrunner and then point out that the actions from this particular production is harming the AD community was a contextual...decision.
And as a result the following is now colored by the acknowledgment of the creator's race and gender so things like hinting at the aggressiveness of the campaign
"Afflicted planted their foot saying 'this much or nothing'"
and that she's taking too much for the ecosystem to survive
"every time I see a campaign with this high of a goal I think one thing: 'this is hurting the community'"
...is just a bad look. Because these comments simply don't exist in a vacuum.
I also have to wonder why the chose Afflicted in the first place. This could have been avoided if they had brought in the numbers of the Magnus Archives Protocol (whose numbers are still available ~700,000 pounds) or Arden (a successful campaign that aimed for 26,000 but made a tidy $12,065 and will use that money to continue production) or Shelterwood (which aimed for $26,000, made ~$6,000 and will also be going into production). Because...why use a "failed campaign" to highlight the money this one production is taking and "harming the community" with, when they, in reality, took nothing at all?
Why choose Afflicted? Was it timing? Was it because they were at hand? Was it because it gave OP a chance to talk about how accepting they were to different types of diversity?
Let's zoom out for a moment. We've heard this argument before the "there's not enough to go around and some people are taking too much and leaving too little for everyone else"...in things like affirmative action, and immigration. It's a very faint, "if you blink you might miss it" replacement theory argument.
And it begins to fall apart when they bring up this argument
when we talk about supporting each other from a audio drama creator standpoint, it is done so freely and with an understanding that new listeners isn't really a thing we're going to run out of. if I recommend 10 podcasts I like, that doesn't hurt MY show. it just helps the community by sharing things we generally enjoy and care about it.
Because if there's an understanding that new listeners aren't really a thing the AD community is going to run out of...while claiming that the funds (coming from people who donate, aka the pool of listeners that is ever growing) is stagnant the argument fails to hold up.
All in all, very odd. I'd claim there's a lot here that I didn't touch upon such as the acknowledgment that the AD pool is majority white and that the one production in this list that is asking for the least amount cash at highest stakes that contains the highest concentration of diverse voices is somehow taking money from the acknowledged "majority" is a bit of a hot mess, but I digress.
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thisismeracing · 1 year
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I'm sending this in bc I have been gathering random thoughts but don't worry about answering right the way!
okay first
-mick is kind of a golden retriever but in my opinion he is more of a blue eyed labrador
maybe bc he's a little shy and g retrievers are all out a have a very energetic vibe even when with strangers they're over energetic, but I feel like mick is more of a shy person who might be social but doesn't initiate any interaction + mick with short hair looks exactly like a labrador don't lie to yourself guys
-mick invites estie everywhere bc he's a very intuitive person (not that you need it to see it) but he feels like estie is always kinda left out even when he is invited to things - he is a empath and you can't change mind
-I know how bad it is to "diagnose" people out of nowhere BUT as a neurodivergent my self I feel such a neurodivergent vibe from him?!? am I the only one?
-out of all the drivers he's the one who seems to try to get out of his bubble the most (if we count Seb and Lewis out) he engages and tries to learn + support a lot of things that are socially important, out of the younger drivers he is the one who shows most interested in it too. I worry so much that once Lewis retires (still crying about Seb), we will basically have no drivers who strives for diversity and equality as strongly as they do
-I will say that i'm a gemini and the person I had the best romantic relationship was a Aries, Idk why people hate them?? They are literally one of the best zodiac signs, there is nothing about them I don't like, I don't know what that says about me
now I will also admit that the worst romantic relationship I've had was with a Cancer, he was the most emotionally manipulative person I ever met, please avoid them at all costs romantically (just a warning- I mean a tip)
btw love you lots and love how you answer everything that is sent in
- 🎀 anon
-oMG I- I CAN TOTALLY SEE IT AND I HAVE TO AGREE!! HAHAHAH I can't unsee it! Now, every time I pass a lab I'm gonna think about Mick lol
-I had the same feeling tbh. I think he is the kind of person who likes to make everyone feel loved and welcomed, so sometimes even without noticing he gravitates towards the less famous in the crowd. 🥹
-I think this may be like on the estie bestie point: he just radiates such good energy that we can't help but identify with him, maybe that leads us to "getting X vibe" like you just did 💗 (I'm not elaborating much on this point bc I feel like this is a very personal and delicate subject so yup).
-I've been refraining to think about Lewis' retirement because I have the same feeling you do. It's not that the others don't care (some really don't tbh), but there's a difference in how he acts and how some of the grid acts. Lewis tends to use his voice more, just like Seb did/still do, and this is what we need: people who understand that their biggest power is their voice, not only their money when the conversation is creating diverse and prejudice-free spaces.
-I honestly don't understand much about astrology, though I do believe in it. But if Mick has any red flags related to his star sign you can bet I'm acting colorblind about it 😘👍🏾 I've never really stopped to notice how people talk about Aries, I'm making a point out of it now. Maybe Gemini people like to do exactly what others told them not to hahaha thank you for the tip!! I'm gonna keep an eye open for them!! 👀✍️🏾
aweeee, love you too, honey!! thanks for the ask, I'm patiently waiting for the next round *mwah* 💖💖💖
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