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sistervelvet · 2 months ago

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From the type of blocks, folks don’t travel for it

Dirty East not shiny ‘nough, shiny ‘nough for tourists

But in her hood she found a forest

some notes on childhood and writing from my song “essence” want a nibble?

I grew up and was raised in the inner city on the lower east side of my hometown, my whole life, up until relocating to my adopted hometown of Pittsburgh. My folks didn’t move out of my childhood home until a few years ago. I used to live in an apartment building – also in the inner city – with my mom, my brothers, and my (step) dad. We left our cramped apartment when my mom was expecting my angel of a baby sister. It was the worst day ever for me when she broke the news. I found a one hundred dollar bill on the ground, I shit you not, and she made me return it to the nearby office. Within the same hour she took me on a walk, that felt like it was never going to end, to our new home. I stared with confusion and asked her why we needed a house, still agitated and bruised about being forced to return the bill. A hundred dollars! She shared with me that she was expecting and we needed more space. Suddenly the baby wasn’t the baby anymore. I cried. She tried to sooth me by assuring me I’d have my own room. I sobbed harder.

My mom got a solid deal on our place that a nurse’s wage with four children on one income could afford. The previous homeowner told her he was literally fleeing the neighborhood due to how dangerous and “scary” the side of town was getting. Odd flex. He told her he was dying to get out, so he was willing to work with her.

As a total sidebar, this man used to feed hoards, drones of stray cats and let them into the house. Many walked in and out at their complete leisure. They brushed by me one by one and I gripped tightly to my mother’s leg as he gave us a tour. It took us a while to get the cats to stop coming to the front lawn or the backyard. To stop tapping on our windows. I remember it taking ages for them to realize their caretaker wasn’t coming back to feed them. My mom told my brother and I not to feed them or give attention so they would stop coming around. But we always did behind her back. I carry distinct memories watching them all swarm us in our backyard. Looking up at us in unison, a variety of sizes and colors, waiting to be pet or fed. To us it felt magical. My brother and I thought we had cat whispering powers.

Anyway, my mother’s a woman of taste. She can turn rust into gold. She had vision. She in essence bought a rusted red brick, fixer upper that needed some interior work and reworking, ignoring the preachiness of the spooked white man. She turned the inside of our home to something beautiful and memorable. Unique. Though we never had any family photos hanging up. I always say if my mother wasn’t a nurse, she’d be an interior decorator.

One year my mom made the decision to swiftly take me out of my city school after several scarring incidents. I was a charter school kid who went to school way out of the mix from where I was from. Far from my neighborhood or district. Kids I went to school with were constantly calling the east side ghetto, busted and dangerous. Dirty especially. Scary, some would say. The local news was constantly calling certain east side blocks dirty, ghetto, busted and dangerous. Run down. Crime littered. Much of this was hyperbolized, to be clear. This also is not a pity moment. I didn’t feel this way. It was home. My heart. My solace. My refuge. My forest. The place where I felt most relaxed and comfortable. These people also didn’t live there so I knew their perception was skewed. Of course, it was often alienating and isolating to download sometimes as a kid. I can’t pretend young me was never affected. It’s important to note, much of these lyrics come from the perspective of a child, not an adult. The east side’s outsider reputation didn’t negate the fact that I found many pockets of solace and my neighborhood friends reflected me. They really reflected me. Even growing up to be the weird, very goofy, passionate but sometimes very shy, alternative Black girl – obsessed with music, poetry, the arts, who still at heart just wanted to fit in. They didn’t judge me. In my neighborhood I also felt very pretty.

I’m not here to negate the things I shouldn’t have witnessed, experienced, or endured as a child either. Or to say everything was perfect, to particularly glamorize my upbringing or low income neighborhoods and households. It’s like this though: what do you really know of a place where you’re not from? Surface value, snippets, and assumptions. A part of town they were otherwise entirely unfamiliar with – tourists.

When driving age came around, I only had like two friends from school who wanted to or even offered to take me home, pick me up, drop me off or come over to hang. Some of them blamed it on just being too far. I internalized a bit of shame and embarrassment over the years. To avoid awkward dialogue or more shame I would often lie and tell my friends my brother is coming to pick me up and walk to the nearest city bus stop, no matter how far, that wasn’t in plain sight so I could hide and no one would see me waiting. At one point I began to not even offer any friends to come hang at my spot. There came a time where my high school best friend Rach was the only person I was comfortable with in my space and who I felt free of judgment. My family treated her like a daughter too.

Back to tourists: people who aren’t from the east side but judged it. Tourists being those who only made temporary trips. Tourists being the people, strangers and ones I knew, who took pride in collectively shitting on and denouncing where I lived. The double entendre of growing up somewhere with tourist attractions – primarily a gorgeous, grand Great Lake with thirteen miles of beaches and a state park. There were many parts of the east side that weren’t deemed appealing, suitable, interesting or “shiny” enough for literal tourists to travel to and check out either.

To me, my blocks were rich in culture and shaped who I am. And culture that much of suburbia children shitted on and often later copied and cosplayed. Now, I was a kid who could typically handle my own, but I definitely got made fun of when I first transferred schools for a couple years. The FUBU, the Kangol, the Forces, the Phat Farm and Baby Phat, the air brushed Tweety Bird tees, Ecko, the acid washed and airbrushed jeans, the Guess jeans repeated logo, Rocawear – a lot of those motherfuckers did not get it at all and they still don’t! On the low, I was dripped as a grade school kid. I got my love of fashion and clothes from my mother. I was always down to experiment and try something new. Any time I wasn’t, I was trying to fit in like teenagers do. Them kids did get one thing out of me though – I stopped wearing Forces.

#indie music #Spotify

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sangyeonsmuse · 3 months ago

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BREAK THE WALLS | Kim Hongjoong

Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Full Chapter List

🀥 Government agent Hongjoong x Rebel Oc

🀥 genre | dystopian society, halazia x geurilla concept , enemies to lovers

🀥 word count | 914

🀥 Summary | An organization by the name of Sector 1 was well known for their work in the underground, theyve been well known for the recruiting of teens and using them to form an army since the year 2034. Collecting strays for their rebellion against those in higher power. Now the year is 2064 and the organization still runs strong they run like a family, with the new technology theyve found ways of keeping alive those that have been scorned in any past battles theyve had against the government.

When the government sends in 7 of their best men to infiltrate the organization. What will they do when their cover is blown and their true intentions are revealed? Will they join the rebellion or will they continue to let the government pull their strings like the little puppets they once were?

"So you and Hira have been spending a loooot of time together these days." Seonghwa spoke to Hongjoong as he sat across the man who was reading peacefully on his bed.

"Yeah, she is our trainer, thats kind of the point of everything." He responds half heartedly

"Bullshit you know exactly what im getting at here, you like her." Seonghwa teased his best friend with a huge grin on his face

"Did you hit your head or something? Has wooyoung been playing with the accelerator gun again?" Hongjoong places his book open side down onto the bed.

"We've known each other for more than ten years hongjoong . I can tell by now when you're trying to avoid something. You like her, truth be told i think you have had a thing for her since the moment we got here."

"I just like hanging out with her, okay? She's fun to be around now that she's no longer so fussy and angry all the time."

"Are you sure that's all there is to it? Because i've seen the way you smile at her. The way your lips curl up into that satisfied grin every time you call her Tahani despite her telling you to call her Hira. You're always the first to volunteer to spar with her and sometimes the two of you sit alone in the memory room for quite some time not coming out until hours later." At Seonghwas words hongjoong simply sighs as he thought over his next few words.

"I don't know Seonghwa, getting close to her- since the first time she showed me her memories I could feel there was something more to her than she let others see. Shes so strong willed and determined and at such a young age she was able to tell right from wrong and set her own path. I'll admit when we all had our first encounter with her when we arrived I told myself I wouldn't even get involved with someone that wanted nothing to do with us, but I let my curiosity get the best of me at some point. She's a lot deeper than I thought she was that day. Yeah she's always been beautiful but, ive always seen more than that."

"So you do like her..why not tell her how you feel? I mean there's no telling what happens during the evaluations especially if we fail to pull through."

"I cant tell her because I'm not good for her Seonghwa. Looking back at her memories all anyone from Alaura towers has ever done was cause her to suffer. If I tell her how I feel and at some point in time she ends up broken that all will fall upon me and I don't think I can take being the one to make her break. Because of Eden she lost her family, a normal life, and even her and Jonghos friends. Though on the outside she's tough her memories have all shown how fragile she could be and I don't want to be the reason she breaks.

Skylar district April 5th 2064

"I got it i finally got it!" Yeosang bursts into their shared living quarters scaring Mingi who had been half asleep on the couch nearly half to death.

"Got what exactly" wooyoung responds watching as Yeosang scattered a bunch of papers over the coffee table.

"Is Hira here?" He asks looking specifically to hongjoong

"No, she and Jongho are out training with some of the new recruits to help prepare them for the evaluations." His response earns a small cheer from Yeosang who rushes back to the door to slam it shut.

"Whats this about Yeo?" Seongwa asks as he emerges from the kitchen, cup of coffee in hand.

"Well as all of you know ive been a little absent lately due to my time in the OASIS."

"Eris has seen more of you in the last few months than we ever have." Mingi spits out and the others simply nod their heads in agreement before edging him to go on.

"That aside, you know how Hira can no longer feel some of the things or do some of the things She used to right? Ever since we decided to stay ive been trying to figure out some kind of way to make it possible for her to feel again and i finally got it." He hands each of them his findings as he continued on with his explanation.

"Micro androdic skin regeneration. Basically if we take these little microbots and get them through her blood stream it'll regenerate skin. Though it wont help with the fact that she can no longer have kids, if we do this she'll be able to love a normal life again. Go out in the rain, feel the heat of the sun, yknow."

"Yeosang, this is amazing." Sans eyes scanned over the paper in amazement.

"She's gonna be so happy to hear this." Seonghwa adds on before placing the paper back on the table.

"There's just two small details that can make or break this discovery." They all stared up at him cautiously waiting for his next words.

"Theres a 50% chance that if the surgery isnt performed right..we just might lose her"

"And the other thing?" Yunho asks, knowing that after the first thing he said the next couldn't be any better

"The equipment we need, the microbots we need aren't here at Sector 1 they're in the alaura tower."

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wiispywitch · 9 months ago

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Attack on Titan OC - Bethany Sawyer🌷💜 🦋

♡. ToyHou.se | Instagram | AO3

Name: Bethany Sawyer

Meaning: Bethany- house of figs; Sawyer- woodcutter

Nickname(s): Beth, Bethy (by Joanna), the Temptress of Karanes

Alias (if any): N/A

Age: 17 (850); 21 (854)

Gender: Female

Nationality: Eldian (Celtic descent)

Birthday: January 26th, 833

Birthplace: Karanes District, Wall Rose

Current Residence: A small village on the outskirts of Wall Rose

Sexual Orientation: Lesbian

Relationship Status: Taken, later married

Language(s) spoken: Eldian

Life-Long Dream: To inspire others in the town with the fine arts and have a family with the love of her life

Goal(s): To marry Joanna, to rebel against the Military Police, to make sure Joanna's family is taken care of while she's away, to advocate for the Scout Regiment against the rebellion

Like(s): Flowers, dancing, upbeat music, festivals, animals, exploring new places, making people smile, the fine arts

Dislike(s): Intolerance, the Military Police, Joanna's mother, rainy days, cold weather, birds, tomatoes

Bad Habit(s): She can be snarky when she wants to be, is a bit of a perfectionist and sometimes takes it overboard, doesn’t get a whole lot of sleep, procrastinates on important tasks, gossips

Hobbies: Dancing, making flower crowns, singing

Fear(s): Losing Joanna to the titans, failing to take care of her family, the Military Police harming her partner

Personality: Kind-hearted, charming, flirtatious, creative, extravagant, perfectionist, artsy, dreamy

Favorites(not necessary)-

Food(s): Sweet potatoes

Color(s): Lavender

Season(s): Spring

Activities: Dancing, singing, acting, picking flowers, hiking, making flower crowns

Time of Day: Mornings

Extras: Art- fine arts, acting; Animals- toads, butterflies; Literature- poetry; Flower- tulips

Appearance-

Height: 5’4” (163 cm)

Weight: 119 lbs. (54 kg)

Hair style: Long, wavy, bangs centered on her face

Hair Color: Dirty blond

Eye Color: Gunmetal blue

Skin Tone: Ivory

Body Shape/Build: Slim frame, skinny waist, flexible

Birthmarks: N/A

Scar(s): N/A

Other: N/A

Relationships-

Parent(s): Jared Sawyer (father), Cynthia Sawyer (mother)

Sibling(s): N/A

Other Relative(s): Diesel (pet dog), Joanna Elytis (wife), Filip Elytis (father-in-law)

Love Interest: Joanna Elytis

Best Friend(s): N/A

Friend(s): Tay Schuyler, Mel Oglethorpe, Nathanael Schuyler

Enemy(ies): Leah Elytis

Rival(s): The town shrews that demonize her

Quotes:

“People seem to have this idea that I’m some siren trying to seduce them to follow a ‘wicked path’—I’m just here trying to brighten other people’s days and celebrating life. They like to make everyone else miserable instead of taking a moment to just let loose and enjoy what they have.”

“So you're friends of Jo's? She talked so much about all of you in her letters. It’s very nice to finally meet you.”

“I know I wasn’t thrilled when you told us you would be going away, and it’s been scary not having you around or not knowing when...what I’m trying to say is I am so proud of you. Just please promise me you’ll come back so we can start our life together.”

History/Life: Bethany Sawyer is a young dancer from Karanes District and the lover of Scout Regiment member Joanna Elytis. She is the daughter of two theater actors, and they are often traveling around Wall Rose performing the fine arts; sometimes Bethany would come along with them to give her a chance to experience new things, and other times they would leave her with a kind caretaker of the inn they resided in. This gave her a sense of independence, and she would often spend her time out of the house, sometimes leaving the sight of her caretaker to go out and about on her own, which has given her caretaker quite a scare a couple of times.

Being the daughter of performers, Bethany has formed a love for the fine arts even at a young age. She grew to have an adoration for dancing, and she loved to dance whenever there were musicians playing music in Karanes. Her dancing quickly became the charm of the town, often drawing in crowds to watch her dance as though no one was watching. Aside from a few jeering comments and rumors spreading that she was a siren that was trying to lure others down a path of sin, Bethany continued to dance and use it as a way to bring joy and positivity to others. It especially became a huge benefit for her when people would throw coins at her, and she would use this as a way to save up that money to help those who were less fortunate than her.

One night in the spring of 845, Bethany was celebrating another festive night with fellow musicians and had finished up another one of her dances when she suddenly crossed paths with a young girl who looked to be in a hurry. Bethany caught up to her upon seeing she was crying and attempted to comfort her, and she helped cheer her up by taking her to explore the beauties of the town at night. The girl introduced herself as Joanna Elytis (someone who always admired Bethany from a distance), and it wouldn’t be long after that night that Bethany and Joanna developed romantic feelings for each other. Joanna’s father accepted Bethany with open arms and was thrilled to see that Joanna had someone that cared for well-being; she began to spend more of her time at their home after the departure of Joanna’s mother, and the young couple would talk for hours about what they wanted for their future together. Initially, Bethany was hesitant about the idea of Joanna enlisting in the Garrison, but she knew the benefits would be to help them in being able to start a life together the way they wanted. They still kept in close touch by writing to each other almost every day, discussing their plans to leave Karanes and have their dream wedding and adopt children. While Joanna was away, Bethany permanently moved in to help look after Filip and take care of their dog Diesel. Joanna would end up changing career paths after being motivated by the fall of Wall Maria to fight back against the invading titans, so it was very hard for Bethany not to worry so much about her well-being—she tried many times to sway her decision and convince her to go to the Garrison like she said, but she knew her hard-headed girlfriend wouldn’t change her mind once she made her decision. To ease her anxiety, Joanna promised to make time to see her girlfriend after they return for their mission, which came to a brief halt postponed when word quickly spread that there was a traitor amongst the scouts. Bethany traveled to the capitol to protest against the Military Police wrongfully imprisoning the members of the Scout Regiment, causing an uproar in the town that were already becoming more critical of the government. After the rightful heir to the throne was taken by Queen Historia Reiss, Joanna and Bethany were reunited at last, and Joanna made the quick decision to propose to Bethany and marry her as soon as possible, knowing she would soon possibly be facing death when the mission to reclaim Walk Maria was approved. Joanna and Bethany had a small wedding ceremony in a small village outside of Wall Rose with Joanna’s comrades and Filip (as well as a pampered Diesel) attending. It would be one of the best nights that Bethany would forever cherish in her heart.

After Joanna was tragically killed in battle, Bethany resented the Scout Regiment and forever mourned for her fallen lover. She still maintained a friendship with most of Joanna’s friends and would write to them often, however she saw the Scout Regiment as responsible for leading Joanna and many others to their deaths. She continued to use her art of dance to in memory of the love of her life.

Bonus Facts

-Her voice: Japanese- Rumi Ochiai (Rouge the Bat, Sonic the Hedgehog); English- Jamie Marchi (Chizuru Maihara, Ouran High School Host Club)

-She’s an Aquarius.

-She smells like sugar plums.

-Her character design is based off of Aurora from Sleeping Beauty.

-She and her family are middle-low class.

-She hates wearing shoes and likes to walk around barefooted.

-Her role in the story was going to be a lot smaller and have her only be mentioned in flashbacks and by name, even perhaps one small role, but I thought it would be nice to add a little more detail about her character and give her a bigger role.

-In a modern AU, Bethany would be very much into idol culture and be a theater kid

-Her spirit animal is an orchid mantis

OC Profile Credit- AliceCantBeStopped; Divider- fairytopea

#wiispywitch oc #attack on titan oc #aot oc #oc #original character #anime art #anime oc #procreate art #fanon #fanfiction writing #creative writing #lesbian oc #le dollar bean

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roobylavender · 1 year ago

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How do you feel about the Ziyech/Aboukhlal thing generally? Like are you going to keep supporting them?

going to put this under a cut bc it's long and i totally respect if people don't wanna read lmao

i don't really follow many of the other players on the national team closely aside from ziyech so there's that but (and not to scrutinize your word choice here) i feel like support doesn't really encapsulate the dynamics of the situation accurately, at least for some gay muslims like me. like do i like any of it? no. it's obv disappointing. but i also think people are kind of naively if not outright ignorantly loath to the reality of much of the muslim diaspora, esp those with an impoverished upbringing

second generation immigrants born into socially liberal muslim families are really lucky, but for a lot of us that’s not the reality. many muslims immigrate having come from already socially conservative backgrounds that are subsequently exacerbated by their poor economic circumstances. our parents are economically and racially / ethnically isolated in a new country and that makes them even more vulnerable to conservative support systems here, particularly religious ones that reinforce regressive cultural values. it’s easy to write off entire populations or groups of people for being inherently “backwards” but for a lot of us it’s a matter of opportunity and well timed exposure to break free of certain ideologies ingrained in our upbringing. and many young muslims don’t even experience that opportunity at all. i’m lucky to have broken away from many of the cultural values i grew up with, but there were several factors that played a part in that. my parents were not internet savvy at all so i was on tumblr / twitter from a young age and befriended other gay people here. i stopped going to islamic school pretty early despite maintaining my own belief in my faith. i grew up in a school district that was overwhelmingly white and had no irl muslim friends before i entered uni (although this was an admittedly smaller factor at play bc most of the white people in my school district were republicans. but it was a factor in the sense that i was surrounded by people who encouraged parental rebellion and questioned my family's values so while that had harmful effects in some areas it helped in others, even though the peers i grew up around were largely homophobic themselves). and probably most significantly, i was never really a well-behaved kid. i've always been someone to talk back, speak my mind, resist social conformity. it has led to me having a very poor relationship with my parents at times but as i already mentioned it's helped in other ways, like establishing my own beliefs free of religious / cultural influence. and to reemphasize, i was very lucky. most of the people in my religious / cultural community are openly homophobic. i am in all likelihood a closeted rarity here

all of this to say, when those socially regressive values expose themselves within our communities, it's not that they shouldn’t be condemned. they should. but it’s so easy to write off people and give no thought to the environment that’s nurtured them to begin with. it's a product of decades of enforced patriarchy and heteronormativity that has only been exacerbated in the dire economic circumstances many immigrants are put through when they uproot their entire lives. all too many of them turn to religion without recognizing that not all of what they're told actually makes sense. and by the time they acquire wealth, if they do, it's a matter of already having spent years in these communities and circles. no amount of proximity to social liberalism or wealth can actually change their views if the people they're still hanging out with share those values. which is why it's really frustrating to see people act like unlearning culturally ingrained homophobia is like turning on a light switch. it’s not. it’s hard, it’s a daily struggle, and it’s insulting to assume immigrants are automatically prone to liberalization merely by virtue of living here. i wish it was that easy. i wish my parents could just wake up one day and recognize some of the beliefs they have are nonsensical so that i could actually tell them i’m bisexual. but that’s not how reality works, and more people should understand that. gay muslims who struggle to help their parents and peers recognize the hypocrisy of culturally ingrained ideology should have way more say in the treatment their communities deserve from society than those who have no understanding of nor exposure to that dynamic at all

and to be clear, non-muslim gay people are under no obligation to condone these figures or people in their community. on the contrary, they're fully entitled to being upset, disappointed, etc. but i also think it's all too easy to approach it like it's a black-and-white situation when it's not. you (figurative "you" here, am not targeting you) have no idea what it's like to live with people you love dearly who nonetheless continue to hold deeply regressive values. i have gotten into so many arguments with my mother over homophobia (among a range of other issues) and i remain committed to getting into those arguments bc i care about her and i want her to recognize that what she's being told by lecturers, scholars, etc., doesn't actually make sense. not everyone has that kind of stamina nor has to have it, esp in situations where extensive abuse is involved. i'm very lucky that my mom never resorts to that and fields these arguments with me even if it's supremely hard to win her over on them. no one is obligated to stay or try to reason with a parent verbally or physically abusing them for their identity. but personally speaking, those situations aside, there is no hope for some of our communities if we take an approach of simply leaving people behind to eternally stew in their regressive values. i feel like it's so bleak to wait for regressive people in our communities (i.e., oppressed communities and figures, not people in positions of political power who enact oppressive policies in turn) to die before we move into a new era. i want to take my parents with me into that new era even if it takes everything in me to make it happen, bc i know at their heart they're not bad people, they've simply been shaped by decades of regressive views that it will take extensive work and consistent challenge to unlearn. i can admit that's a very idealistic view of things but it's one i've embraced personally

so like. do i support the statement from aboukhlal? no. but i also feel like having grown up the way i did i'm not really going to be one of those people who's like wow the moroccan nt are automatically scum and i can't ever believe i thought they would be perfect socially liberal men completely aligned with modern day progressive values re: sexuality and gender. like it's a bit delusional to think that way yknow. this is one niche of social views where they are unfortunately regressive and i really hope they meet people in their lives who can help challenge those views. but i simply think it's too easy to blame individual people for the products of cultural upbringing that they've simply never bothered to question (esp where many are not party to the same factors or inclination towards parental disobedience that i was). and that becomes even more significant when this blame is used to exacerbate and justify racism against them in turn. like maybe there's a slim chance aboukhlal did say "where we live, women don't talk to men like that." but when the person he allegedly said that to immediately refuted it and he never had a history of behaving that way with female coordinators in the national team, not to mention never had any problems at toulouse prior to this incident, what do you think the chances are of it being legit? it feels way too convenient. i don't like what he said in his statement, but i honestly think the story with the toulouse official is complete bs and being used to freeze him out of the team

#cw homophobia #like at the end of the day. do i think he needed to do all this over a rainbow number on a jersey. no #but the fallout is kind of ridiculous when you take necessary context into account #also have talked to some mutuals since last night about this who i know felt anxious about the whole thing so like #if you think this encapsulates what we're all feeling well. feel free to reblog #in any case like i already said i'm not one to attach myself to celebrities to the point of delusion #but i simply want to embrace reality and exercise some patience here. personally. even if i am annoyed and disappointed #outbox

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savefilescomng12 · 5 months ago

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Suborno Bari: Malverne High School 12-year-old student graduates from high school, heading to college for double degree

MALVERNE, New York -- 12-year-old Suborno Isaac Bari is graduating from Malverne High School in Malverne, New York, Wednesday, making him the youngest scholar to ever graduate from the history of the Nassau County school, according to Malverne Union Free School District.The video is from a previous report. Suborno told "Good Morning America" he's excited to graduate and it's been a "long" journey for him so far, even though the high school senior skipped 5th, 6th, 7th, 9th and 11th grades - completing his 4th, 8th, 10th and 12th grades in Malverne Union Free School District while passing the New York State Regents examinations to graduate."It's been an absolutely wonderful experience," Suborno said of his high school career.

Suborno Isaac Bari, 12, graduates from Malverne High School in Malverne, New York on June 26.Courtesy of the Bari family"I met so many great people and I've learned a lot in both math and science and other disciplines. But I think I'm ready to move on and pursue my higher education to the best of my ability," Suborno added.Rebecca Gottesman, the director of K-12 school counseling at Malverne Union Free School District, has been in education for the last 25 years and called Suborno, whom she first met as a fourth grader, "a prodigy.""Every year, school counselors are asked on behalf of the students that are applying to these colleges to answer the question, 'Is this one of your most exceptional students that you've ever seen in your career?' ... and I can say without any doubt that Suborno is the most exceptional student I've ever met academically," Gottesman said. "He's really a prodigy."Gottesman said the school district and the Bari family worked together to figure out a tailored plan that would let Suborno take higher-level classes but still integrate with his peers and develop socially and emotionally.

Suborno Bari plans to attend New York University in the fall and study mathematics and physics.Courtesy of the Bari family"We entered into an agreement where we would allow him to take high school-level courses but take them at our middle school. So he would come into our middle school as eighth-grader ... and then after he took his morning classes, we would put him on the bus and he would take a bus to our elementary school where he would reintegrate with his fifth-grade peers, which were his same-age peers and participate in fifth-grade electives and after-school activities," Gottesman explained.Suborno said even though he accelerated through grades and split his time, teachers and fellow students embraced him and gave him space to pursue his interests."They treated me just like any other high school student ... and that's how I really wanted to be treated by the community," the young whiz said.Gottesman said Suborno, who earned a 1500 on the SAT, 34 on the ACT, and took five AP classes, has left an indelible mark on the Malverne community as an academic leader and is more than ready for college.

Suborno Bari said he has always dreamed of helping others learn math and science and hopes to be a professor one day.Courtesy of the Bari family"He really a wonderful, wonderful young man. He's got an inquisitiveness and a thirst for knowledge, like nobody I've ever seen," Gottesman said. "He's been a joy to work with."The 12-year-old aspires to earn a Ph.D. and become a professor. Suborno is heading in the fall as a commuter student to New York University on a scholarship to study for a bachelor's degree in math and physics."Many people are doing it only because their parents said so or because engineers just make the most profit, not because they actually love what they're doing. So I hope to fix that and help other people understand math and science and love it in all its beauty," Suborno said."Do what you do because you like it because of the passion you feel when describing it or doing it," he added.Copyright © 2024 ABC News Internet Ventures. Source link Read the full article

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popamolly · 8 months ago

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‘ DANCE WITH THE DEVIL ’ ALASTOR

summary. Amidst the vibrant 1920s in New Orleans, a forbidden love unfolds in the lively jazz-filled atmosphere, evolving from an intoxicating romance to a twisted tale of heartbreak and murder, serving as a reminder to never dance with the devil.

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

warnings. human!alastor x fem!reader, eventual smut, mature themes, age gap! youre 20 while alastor is in his early 30s, alastor is a serial killer, alastor preys on your innocence, Alastor stalks you, dark romance, angst, gore, death, blood kink, not a happy ending fyi

author’s note.. i want to point out that alastor’s design as a human hasn’t been been revealed/confirmed anywhere by the creator so for this short fic i described him based on his canon creole/european heritage with a few references from popular fan art made by him. I DID NOT make this art, if you know the artists please comment so i can give credit. enjoy sinners.

“Salutations! Good evening everyone, good to be back on the air!” The radio show hosts’ voice comes to life as your Mother turns the nozzle of the small wooden radio slightly to the right just to turn it up a bit more so she could hear it properly. Your ears perk up slightly from across the room, trying your best not to show eagerness since your Mother had already let you stay up past your curfew on the promise you would practice your needlework.

As boring as that was, it was better that being forced into a dark room with no other source of entertainment but your thoughts, “Now for tonight’s program! Courting season is upon us! Birds are chirping with love this year, especially with the prominent Montgomery’s masquerade ball in just a few days time. What do you say folks? Is love in the air for some lucky young souls?”

Your eyes dance across the flickering flames from the fireplace, tugging your blue thread through your quilting weight cotton in deep thought as you take in every word the radio host was saying. It was courting season and you were finally of age to find a suitor. This was finally your time to let go of your home life and become a respectable wife in high society. You weren’t too thrilled really, but you had to be ready to embrace change and find, at least, a decent husband that you could somewhat like and have children with.

It wasn’t much of a dream or aspiration but it was something you had to learn to be content with. Your family name of Duvalier had a strong legacy to upkeep and you knew as the only child in your family you must do your duty and carry on as nothing but an obedient child bearer. All the gowns, makeup, or jewelry in the world couldn’t even make you excited for the next days ahead. You knew it would be nothing but men lined up out the door and into the street with poor attempts of courting now that the announcer finally announced it.

You couldn’t wait to be the bait on the hook for any potential big fish to catch. Note the sarcasm.

“Moving forward to a more serious topic, the police have asked me to inform all of you that yet another body has been found in the Pine Grove Woods. How horrendous! They were dismembered and barely recognizable!” You shivered at the way you could hear him smiling, “Some say it was our missing darling Henrietta O’Hare, could it be? More information to come but do stick around for some of my favorite slow time jazz, perfect for any woman’s ear even the deceased ones, God rest her soul.”

The broadcast began to play some jazz, making you feel as if your brain went in a whirlwind from the information you had just recieved. Another body was found?

“How horrific,” You mother turned down the radio a bit until the jazz music was nothing more but a hum filling the room, “There is some mad man on the loose, probably someone from the poorer districts”

“Or it’s someone of high society,” You suddenly spoke up, glancing toward your Mother before continuing your needlework absentmindedly, why did you always struggle in making flower when it came to embroidery? “Must we always assume it’s someone of lower class?”

“That is quite enough,” Your mother knew that that sharp tongue of yours would be a problem when it came to finding you a husband. She would have to snap it off herself if you were ever to find a decent catch. The last thing she needed was you becoming an old maid and disappointing the family name, “I do believe it is time for you to retire to bed dear. It is a big day for you tomorrow.”

You set down your cloth, standing up from your chair before bowing your head respectfully toward her, “I shall see you in the morning then.”

In the dimly lit hall, a subtle sense of unease washes over you as you ascend the staircase, each step echoing with the weight of looming responsibilities. The second-floor corridor stretches ahead, leading to the room that carries the weight of your familial expectations.

Arriving at your door, you hesitate before entering. The looming prospect of tomorrow's endeavors casting a shadow over your thoughts.

You slip into the vastness of your bedroom, the opulence of the room a stark reminder of the legacy you're bound to uphold. You look up at the family portrait that hung proudly on your wall, your father proud and smiling, it made your heart ache at his absence. You knew your mother was extremely hard on you because now that he was gone, she was all you had left— and she wouldn’t be here forever. Her harshness came from a place of kindness, something that you were force to understand at a young age for the sake of your own emotions and sanity. Regardless, everything still weighed on you and that alone had your body feeling more heavy than usual as you got under your covers that night.

“M-Mother! Is this really necessary?” The shopkeeper and her assistants force a girdle up your plush thighs, roughly scrapping it against your skin, “Ow!”

Your mother sat with a perfect view of you as you stood on a little platform in front of a long mirror, a satisfied smile tugs at her lips, “We need to slim those hips down (Y/N), slim and pretty in the beauty norm now. Be lucky you weren’t a teenager like me in the early 1900s, the corsets were worse.”

You huff just as the workers fix your brassiere, raising your arms so they could help you slip the gown you were going to wear to the ball over your head. It was a Egyptian silk dress that reached right above your ankles, adorned with sparkly sequin. The dress was beautiful, you admired it by looking at your reflection, feeling as though you were getting more confidence to take this courting season in stride.

“Now for a mask! It is a Masquerade ball Ms.Duvalier,” The shopkeeper brings over a glass case, opening it with a soft ‘click!’ to present you with an assortment of different animal themed masks. Your fingers trace over the intricate designs in awe, “Might I suggest one for you? Perhaps you’d like to be a lamb?”

“Innocent, pure, I like it.” Your mother agrees, shooing away the shopkeeper to come step closer to you, a proud look on her face as she looks over your attire.

You stop the shopkeeper before she could walk away by grabbing her arm gently, a small smile on your face as you took out another mask that caught your attention, “But I think the deer suits me better, no?”

“(Y/N), darling, a deer?” Your Mother’s lips turns into a flat line, “Of all things.”

“You are dictating everything I do, the least you can do is let me have is a choice in what mask I wear tonight.” You grabbed the deer mask and held it up. It only covered half of your face, the antlers on either side of the mask were small but so unique you were sure to catch a few stray eyes. It was different— beautiful even, “Please?”

Your mother gave in to your sweet look with a roll of her eyes, “Fine, fine, if you must.”

"Let me package this right along with your evening gown then!" The shopkeeper disappears behind a counter to fold your purchases neatly.

Then the rest of the day went on in a flash. Afternoon tea soon turned into the early evening and you found yourself getting ready with the help of your housemaids. Before you knew it you were exiting the car and stepping onto the stone steps to the Montgomery Estate. You and your mother were welcomed especially among the rest as special guests, your family name carrying a wealth not only through currency but in history as well.

The grand ballroom of the Montgomery house was adorned with shimmering lights and elegant decorations, setting the perfect backdrop for the lively affair. It didn’t take you long before you were swept up by men and their invitations to dance. With your mother’s approval, you glided through the dance floor, the music enveloped you, and the laughter of the partygoers echoed in the air. The atmosphere was electric and you found that just as it was fun to waltz under the shimmering chandeliers, it was also draining.

The gentlemen you danced with varied in charm and conversation skills. Some were charming, others less so, but each dance brought in the hope of marriage. The night progressed and with it the clinking of glasses created a mesmerizing rhythm.

Amidst the whirlwind of conversations, you found yourself being a bit of wallflower now that the night was at its height. With sore feet, you stood along the sidelines and people watched. Faces blurred, and voices almost a distant echo in your mind as you sip your champagne.

Lost in the moment, you couldn't help but wonder if the right dance partner would emerge from the crowd. Perhaps someone would sweep you off your feet like a fairytale knight or you would be one of the lucky ones to fall in love at first sight. Or is that wishful thinking? You didn’t care, your mother controlled everything in your life and you wouldn’t let her control your mind too. Being a hopeful romantic was who you are no matter what high society says. In the midst of it all, you wanted to discover a meaningful connection— love. Was that so bad? You hoped to have a fairytale ending but that dream was becoming less of a reality as the dancers whirled and more of, exactly that, a hopeless dream.

A lady suddenly bumps into you, knocking your champagne glass into your dress, making you spill it all over your gorgeous gown. The woman apologizes profusely but you dismiss it with an understanding smile, knowing that she meant no ill intent and that it was genuinely an accident. Excusing yourself from your mother’s watchful gaze from across the room, you make your way toward the patio that seemed so distant from all the lively entertainment.

Finding privacy on the patio, you began to rubbing your stain with a napkin, nearly cursing at yourself because you only appeared to be making it worse. Your mother would scold you for acting as if you didn’t have the money to replace it with another, better, gown but you couldn’t help it. Unlike her you weren’t so materlistic and flashed your money whenever you got the chance.

“Ah, damn..” You mumbled to yourself.

“You should dab and not rub, my good lady.” A sudden voice from the shadows had you jumping out your skin. You turn to look at the man that emerged, a warm grin on his face as he stepped forward. You were in awe at the fact that his masquerade mask was just like yours, only with bigger antlers to represent that he was a male deer. You saw nothing more than his tan pointy chin and eyes but oh his eyes, they were such a lovely brown that it felt as you were lost in the soil on a rainy day.

“I-I’m sorry?” You were flustered by his mysterious nature, not really catching what he had said only a few second before.

“I said that if you want to save your dress darling, you should dab and not rub.” The man repeated.

You blinked, still taken aback by the unexpected encounter. The man's advice finally registered, and you nodded, grateful for the guidance.

"Thank you," you replied, a small smile playing on your lips. "I appreciate the tip. I suppose I got a bit carried away trying to fix it."

He chuckled, the sound echoing in the quiet patio. "It happens to the best of us. May I?"

He gestured towards the stain, and you took a step back, allowing him to inspect the damage. With surprising grace, he produced a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at the spot gently.

"There, that should help. But you might want to have it professionally cleaned once the night is over," he suggested, his eyes locking onto yours.

You couldn't help but feel a flutter in your chest as you met his gaze. The dim light on the patio cast a mysterious aura around him, making you all the more curious. Despite his charm, you couldn't shake the feeling that you knew him from somewhere, his voice and mannerisms creating a sense of familiarity.

"Thank you, really," you said, feeling a bit flustered by the attention. "And who might you be, coming to the rescue like this?"

He bowed slightly, the antlers on his mask making it appear a whimsical gesture. "Call me Alastor. A pleasure to be of service, my dear."

"Alastor," you repeated, committing the name to memory. "I'm (Y/N)—" Before you could properly introduce yourself, the distant melody of the waltz called you back to the ballroom.

"I must return to the party," you sighed, torn between the stranger and the obligations of being a Duvalier.

"And yet you don't seem in a hurry to go," Alastor seemed to hold a playful glint as he observed your inner conflict.

"I suppose I'm caught between the dance floor and the quiet patio" you admitted, a subtle smile playing on your lips. The both of you knowing the real reason you were hesitant to go back inside.

Alastor chuckled, gesturing towards the ballroom with a flourish. "Ah, the dance of courtship. A beautiful spectacle, isn't it? But sometimes, the most enchanting moments happen away from the crowd."

His words resonated with a certain truth, and you found yourself drawn to the charm of his demeanor. Alastor extended his hand, an invitation for another dance under the moonlit night on the patio.

"Care for a dance out here, away from the crowd?" he proposed, his smile inviting.

Caught in the magnetic pull of his charisma, you nodded, the soreness of your feet magically disappearing once you place your hand in his. The two of you waltzed gracefully under the soft glow of the patio lights, away from the watchful eyes. The music seemed to follow you, creating a private serenade for this impromptu dance.

As you swirled in Alastor's arms, you couldn't help but feel a sense of liberation. The night air was cool, and the courtyard offered a break from the bustling festivities. In that moment, it was just you, Alastor, and the dance that unfolded between you.

The waltz under the moonlit patio seemed to be a dance outside the constraints of time, but eventually, the music came to a graceful end. Alastor gently released your hand, and with a lingering gaze, he proposed an idea that sparked curiosity.

"You know," he said, his voice a suggestive murmur, "there's a hidden gem not too far from here. A jazz club with live music that's simply captivating. Care to join me for a bit more magic tonight?"

"Well, I-" You glanced back into the ballroom, noticing your mother conversing with other senior patrons, hardly knowing your absence just yet, but it wouldn't be long before she bound off in search of you. Though you were reeled back into Alastors light touch and warm embrace, noting that if you were to listen to people order you about constantly everyday then you had to take some charge back when it came to your life.

Intrigued by the idea of an adventure beyond the ballroom, you nodded, a spark of excitement filling you. Alastor led the way, guiding you through the elegant corridors and towards the exit as swiftly as possible, thankful avoiding your mother. As you stepped outside, the cool night air embraced you, and the distant sound of jazz music reached your ears, beckoning you closer.

The jazz club was dimly lit, with the smooth rhythms of a saxophone and the sultry voice of a singer weaving through the air. Alastor found a secluded spot, and the two of you settled in, immersed in the ambiance. The music stirred something within and your heart fluttered with every stolen glance between you and Alastor.

A waitress brought over drinks and your eyes widened as you take a sip of the alcoholic beverage, it certainly wasn't champagne since this was something you noticed only your father would drink. It was dark, and a bit stronger than you were used to but you welcomed the stinging taste.

Alastor's company proved to be as enchanting as the jazz melodies. His conversation flowed effortlessly, and there was a certain ease in the air, as if time itself slowed down within the walls of the club.

Suddenly, the jazz club went into an energetic uproar as the music changed to one of something slow to fast-paced. Couples cheered in their drunken haze, hurrying to the dance floor to do the most outlandish dance moves you have ever seen. It was exciting to say the least and you couldn't help but laugh, wishing you could join them on the dance floor.

Noticing your new found excitement, Alastor stood up from the table, "Care for a bit of the Charleston, my dear?" Alastor suggested, the upbeat rhythm of the music pulsating through the club.

As Alastor extended his hand, inviting you to join him for the lively dance, a flicker of uncertainty crossed your eyes. The fast-paced, energetic dance was vastly different from the graceful waltzes you were accustomed to. At that a wave of shyness washes over you.

"I must confess," you admitted with a shy smile, "I've only ever danced the waltz. Other dance moves are not exactly seen as… ladylike."

Instead of pushing, Alastor offered a reassuring smile.

"Well, my dear, tonight is about breaking away from tradition and embracing the unexpected. Let's make tonight a dance to remember."

Encouraged by his words, you took a deep breath to find your confidence, allowing Alastor to guide you into the heart of the lively dance floor. As the vibrant jazz music played, you hesitantly followed his lead, attempting the steps of the Charleston. Alastor's patient guidance and enthusiasm gradually eased your nerves, and soon enough, you found yourself swept up away in the joyful dance.

The jazz club became a haven, a place where your worries were melted away. As you twirled and spun with Alastor, you discovered a newfound freedom in embracing different dance styles. Laughter bubbled up, and the initial shyness transformed into an exhilarating sense of freedom.

"Thank you for this, I suppose I did need the escape," you confessed, a genuine smile playing on your lips as you raise your glass. "I’m glad to have met you Alastor."

Alastor's eyes held a warmth that mirrored the sentiment and as the night unfolded, Alastor's mysterious charm seemed to intensify. After the spirited Charleston dance, he excused himself with a playful glint in his eyes, leaving you alone in the midst of the joyful chaos.

"I'll be back in just a moment, my dear," Alastor promised with a charismatic smile, a faint air of mystery surrounding his departure.

You watched as he disappeared into the crowd, the jazz music continuing to pulse through the club. The energy of the dance floor seemed to heighten in his absence, and you found yourself standing alone, surrounded by the laughter and movement of the other couples.

Time passed, and as the seconds turned to minutes and the minutes turned to an hour, you realized that Alastor's promise of returning might not be true.

A mix of emotions washed over you – a blend of disappointment and concern. You scanned the crowded dance floor and cozy corners of the club, but there was no sign of Alastor. The night had taken an unexpected turn, and you were left standing alone, thinking of what to do next. Had you been so stupid in believing you could find a charming man with just the snap of your fingers?

You decided to leave and face the more familiar, if not comforting, atmosphere of the night.

Upon returning home, your eyes welled up with tears, a mixture of disappointment and the frustration of having allowed yourself to be swept away by the night's excitement. The elegant facade you presented to the world cracked, revealing vulnerability.

Your mother, ever watchful and concerned, hurried over to the entrance hall noticing the distress on your face as you entered the house. The delicate mask of composure you wore during the night shattered in that moment, replaced by a glimpse of the real emotions beneath.

"Where have you been? What happened?" your mother inquired, her tone a mix of worry and disapproval, “And returning so late, have you forgotten that there is a killer on the loose?”

In a trembling voice, you explained the evening's events from the Charleston dance and Alastor's mysterious departure. There was no point in hiding it from your mother when she had eyes and ears everywhere. It would only come to her ears eventually.

Your mother, unimpressed, scolded you for venturing into unfamiliar places and allowing yourself to be misled.

"You should have known better than to let a stranger take you away like that! This is not how a lady conducts herself, especially a Duvalier! Are you sure no one saw you together? You could ruin yourself with this! Stupid girl," she chastised.

The scolding words stung, and tears rolled down your cheeks. You rushed up the stairs to your room, seeking solace in the sanctuary of your room.

Behind the closed door, you allowed yourself to release the pent-up emotions. You slid down the door as the echoes of the jazz club were now replaced by the quiet sobs that filled the room. It was harsh reality to face that your wishful thinking had could have blinded you from someone who wanted nothing but moment of company.

You brought your knees to your chest, your fingertips gripping into your arms so harshly in frustration as you realize that you never should have let him help you. Better yet, you never should have danced with him.

Be sure to leave a comment & let me know if you want to be added to the tag list for this story so you’re updated whenever I drop a new chapter! xo

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crispyfryenperu · 10 months ago

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Projects, Musings, Shocks

I am chilling on the brand new sofa my host family just bought. It’s a stiff navy chair. I lie across the arms of the chair, in my classic Foreigner chaco-style Teevas, ill-fitting shorts (my last clean pair), and a pink t-shirt. I watch and listen to the Peruvian news. It really keeps you hooked. Endless blood and shootings motivated by money, drugs, and stealing. Today I was surprised to see that in Lima, there is a standoff between fishermen and police officers. Both sides throwing rocks and large sticks at each other. Several men rushed to the hospital. The air is warm and unpleasantly cozy, fortunately a breeze makes its way through the iron grates on the window. I have a slight stomach ache from eating too many potato chips with lemon and the Valentina sauce I brought from the US. My host mom eats a homemade lucuma popsicle. Since no one has AC here, popsicles are a constant in life. Like drinking water (In the US, since in Peru most people don’t drink water). Every few days you have to make a new batch of popsicles, with whatever fruit you have available. If no fruit, make a chocolate milk popsicle, or use any juice you have. Right now we have lucuma, and I took advantage and made lucuma pancakes today too. Lucuma is a delicious fruit and perfect in a chocolate cake, something I will miss dearly when I leave.

I’ve been working on a higiene project in my town. The idea is that a nutritionist comes to talk about kitchen higiene. I invite all of the restaurants and the rest of the town. Then the municipality gives certificates to participants and promotes participating restaurants on their website.

It has been very frustrating to work with the municipality to organize this project. It was like pulling teeth, and I am so happy that we are nearing the end of the project! First we did the workshops in La Capilla, which is where more of the districts restaurants are located. 6 women came. That is a lower number than I was expecting, but it allowed for a lovely, intimate workshop. Every woman was able to ask questions and participate in the hands-on activities. This week, the workshop is in the municipality. Since only 6 women came to La Capilla, I thought to myself, most likely around 10 women will come to the muni. But on our first day, 23 women showed up!!! I am still in shock. And I wonder if they came for the certificates, the restaurant promotions, the rifa sorpresa, or because I walked around in the heat 4 different times collecting info and inviting everyone to the workshop. Although 23 women are welcome, I’ve quickly discovered how hard it is to capture the attention of the whole group at once. Everything takes longer. Plus, a few people brought their young children. Still, the workshop had some very good moments, and I printed out all the information and slides in booklets, so I think that helps it to flow more smoothly, and helps people pay attention. Tomorrow, Wednesday, will be the last workshop, and I went and bought more materials. A few women, who also own restaurants, commented that they have never had any formal training in restaurants or kitchen higiene, so that is what is motivating me to do my best.

Once the workshops are finished, I’ll still have to organize kitchen inspections and restaurant publicity on the webpage.

Besides that, I am trying to enjoy the hot, sweaty summer. I am training girls age 8-12 in soccer, and spending time at the beach with Peruvian friends and family.

On Sunday my host brother and I found a scorpion on the floor. With a small scream, he smashed it into oblivion. On Monday, my host mom found another scorpion. She picked up the scorpion with a handkerchief, found its tale, and injected herself with the venomous butt. She explained to me that the venom is good for skin and can help pimples go down. I am very happy to report that she is still alive and bopping. Although I haven’t checked to see if that pimple went down. It was like an alternate universe.

Also like being in an alternate universe, was someone was describing to me an awful motorcycle crash. But aside from the motorcycle crash, by the time the ambulance and police got there, the victims had also been robbed of their wallets and cellphones, while in their state of severe injuries and severe shock. It’s so awful to imagine. But so many people in Peru are poor, desperate, and accustomed to death.

Today my host brother cooked a yellow-pepper-and-cheese pasta. It’s called tallarines a la huancaina. He put too much yellow pepper in and it tasted like a spiced pasta - spiced but not spicy. I was thoroughly enjoying it, and my host brother sat there eating and chugging down glasses on glasses of lemonade. He dumped half a parmesan cheese on top to lower the spice, and gave me half of the pasta he had served himself. In the end he gave up and went to take a shower to cool off after the spicy pasta. It was like eating mac and cheese with some black pepper on top. He must be a super taster like my real sister.

Look at their faces

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aspenforest732 · 11 months ago

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Mortem ad Wrens Chapter 24: We Could not Bear to Break

Summary:

tw: human trafficking, kidnapping, being called ‘it’ Little bit of fluff and groundwork before the human trafficking angst kicks into full gear.

Notes:

Giran’s here! I like to headcanon that he checks up on the people he helps. The start of the kidnapping will be tagged with [KIDNAP START] and goes to the end of the chapter. Just as a reminder, there will be an overview in Chapter 26 if you need to skip the human trafficking portion of this chapter and Chapter 25. ‘text’ JSL text thoughts

“Set the table, Giran’s coming,” Dabi said as they walked in the door.

Akira set their duffle by the couch before heading back to the kitchen. The smell of curry wafted towards them, bringing a grin. ‘What, no hello? How have you been? Where were you?’ they teased.

With a huff, Dabi just shoved the mismatched bowls into their arms and continued cooking. “I saw the news.”

Akira tilted their head as they came back for utensils. ‘And? Hand Job didn’t recognize me.’ At Dabi’s scowl, they added, ‘Also, Eraser knows you’re alive. He joined the unofficial Endeavor abuse investigation.’

Dabi stilled, pot quietly bubbling. “Eraser Head,” he ground out. “The same underground hero who went to my funeral and tried to launch an investigation into my death.”

Akira froze, spoon clattering to the table. ‘I… didn’t know you had history.’

“We met a couple times at hero galas when he actually attended. Never liked my old man. Or people in general.” Dabi resumed cooking as Akira hesitantly finished.

Not long after dinner was ready and Akira took out their contacts, Giran arrived, crooked smile grim. “I’m afraid this isn’t as much of a social call as I’d hoped.” The pair tensed as the broker sat down. “Mori, your family’s digging around again. I’m keeping them off your trail for now, but one more show and I can’t guarantee you’ll be safe here.”

Akira swallowed hard and nodded. ‘We knew it was a risk aiming for U.A. Try to keep them off Fat Gum and Sun Eater if you can.’

The rest of dinner passed in mostly silence, only occasional pleasantries exchanged. Giran did raise an eyebrow at the pill Akira downed with the meal but left it alone. As Giran eventually got up to leave, he palmed a note into Akira’s hand without a word. A few more names and pronouns to pass along. Once memorized, the note was incinerated by Dabi.

Mortis crouched on a rooftop, listening to Haru arrange a meeting with two of their suspected traffickers. One was partially covered in scales while the other had no obvious quirk. Their focus seemed to be on quirk and Quirkless trafficking with an emphasis on children.

Not ideal given our pool of potential bait, but not the worst. Mortis would normally be outside their age range, but they still didn’t look it. Ayaka and Azumi were still recovering, and Kano was too young at 7 to be risked. Their only other option was Kichi, who probably wouldn’t be approved by the task force since he was Quirkless.

Mortis wanted to try following the pair again, but from the past week, Mortis and Eraser Head had learned they watched the rooftops. Staying ahead of or keeping pace with the pair made them too visible, but falling behind led them to empty alleys without a sign of passing. Instead, Mortis trailed behind Haru to make sure he wasn’t followed.

Dropping off, Akira made their way to where the district was supposedly being revitalized. There was some construction equipment and progress being made, but much of it was still in shambles. Most of the rubble was cleared out, but the structures still seemed pretty unstable and damaged. Akira sighed as they checked their phone for an update from Dabi, a few members of the League seemingly still at the apartment. Team bonding seemed a little uncharacteristic of the group, but they weren’t completely incompetent according to Dabi.

A couple hours later and some fed alley cats, Mortis slipped their crutches on and made their way to Eraser’s patrol route for the night. They watched a few buildings over as he wrapped up a fight with some muggers and called the Detective. A few minutes later, he joined them on the roof.

“Social or business?”

‘Business. The exchange is happening in one week at a location that will be sent two hours prior.’ Mortis explained. ‘Given what they’re looking for, our recommendation is either myself or a Quirkless kid. We have one who has the stamina and constitution and would be willing to act as bait. I’m a little high-profile, but we know the police’s lack of faith in Quirkless abilities.’

Aizawa scowled, “An irrational doubt on their part. I’ll speak with Tsukauchi.” As he turned to leave, he paused. “Was there something else?”

‘Can I finish patrol with you? Tonight is quiet by design,’ Mortis hesitantly signed.

Aizawa’s expression softened, “Yes, I take it you can’t go back to your apartment?” At Mortis’ nod, he sent a text. “If they’re still there by the end or when you want to wrap up, you can stay with us.”

As they eventually started heading back to Eraser’s house, Mortis noticed there was something on his mind. ‘Care to share?’

“Perceptive as usual,” Eraser huffed. After a moment, he continued, “Have you told anyone about Zashi and I?”

Akira stumbled as they pulled to a stop. ‘What? Of course not! I never share personal information of pros unless the information or pro themself pose a threat to people I care about.’

“Good. We appreciate it.” Aizawa went to lunge to the next roof, but Akira grabbed his wrist for a moment before dropping it.

‘Did you see something suspicious? If someone is casing your house, I need to know.’ Akira searched his face with wide eyes, trying to hide the fear and growing concern.

Aizawa frowned, “No, and it’s not your job to worry about those things. We’ve been over this.”

Akira firmly shook their head, ‘This is different. There are people who might target you because of me, and I need to know if I’m putting your family in danger.’

“Kid, pros make enemies every night, especially underground-”

‘I’m not talking about that!’ Akira signed harshly, rounding to fully face the hero. With a heaving breath, they stared into Aizawa’s eyes, forcing themself to let all the anger, worry, and fear show. ‘This is beyond petty criminals, Yakuza, and even the League. I am telling you. I need to know if they’re getting close.’

Taken aback, Aizawa stared back, searching their face. After a few minutes, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine. What am I looking for?”

Akira threw up their hands before signing, ‘Literally anyone casing your house, trailing you or your family, checking in too often or too personally, anything. I can narrow it down from there.’

Aizawa stared back before shaking his head. “What hell family do you have.”

Akira bit back a giveaway answer before signing, ‘The worst kind.’

“Hey Dad, Akira. Pops left you plates in the fridge.” Hitoshi turned slightly from his show at their entrance.

‘Insomnia acting up? What day are you on?’

“Technically my fourth since it’s 6 a.m.” At Aizawa’s concerned look, Hitoshi sighed. “I know, if I can’t sleep by tonight we’ll call Auntie Nem.”

Aizawa ruffled their fluffy purple hair as he walked past. “Don’t stay up too much later, Mori,” he said as he headed to his bedroom.

Akira barely finished the leftovers before trudging to the guest room and crashing.

Akira silently padded into the kitchen, giving Bastard a few pets once he hopped onto one of the stools as they watched Yamada make lunch. With Hitoshi watching a hero documentary in the living room and Aizawa elsewhere, now could be their last chance. Akira lightly tapped his arm as they shifted into view, trying to keep their face impassive as the blonde turned. ‘Mic-sensei, watch your back in the Hero Commission. Please tell me if someone asks odd or too personal questions or starts following you.’

“Good to see you up, little listener.” Yamada’s grin faded into confusion. “Is this what you talked about with Shou last night? He asked me the same but didn’t say much else.”

At least he knows when and what to share. Akira nodded, signing a quick thanks before padding away. Tension still pooling in their shoulders, they sat next to Hitoshi. After a few minutes, Dabi pinged his location as “Safe,” and Akira stood up.

“Hold up, kid,” Aizawa drawled from the doorway to his and Yamada’s hallway. “You were right.” He plodded over to hand a tiny device to them. “Put it where they won’t look; it will start transmitting your location one hour before the scheduled time.”

Akira looked up at the night sky from atop an apartment building, counting to keep their breaths even as they tried to find the constellations they’d read about. The street below was quiet as their legs swung against the side of the building, and Akira pointedly did not look down. Hands gripping the edge of the roof tightly, they picked up the barely audible thump of someone landing on the roof behind them.

Hearing Eraser’s measured steps, Akira carefully swung their legs back onto the roof and scooted a little bit away from the edge. ‘Need something?’

“Mori, why are you sitting on the edge of a roof?” Eraser cautiously slunk forward, hand almost too casually grasping his capture weapon.

Akira cocked their head. Why would that be a problem? We roof hop all the time. It’s not like… their eyes widened in realization. ‘Oh! No, I just like star gazing now that I can do it, and it’s efficient to work on… balance.’

“On the edge of a nine-story building?” Eraser gave an unimpressed gaze, although he did relax marginally.

As he stood beside them, Akira nodded resolutely and forced themself not to look over the edge. ‘High enough for my current reaction time, low enough to not be fatal if I misjudge the distance.’

Aizawa studied them for a long moment before sitting next to them, feet almost touching. “Hitoshi could use a parkour partner. I trained him Tuesdays and Thursdays after class, and now we use those days to focus on parkour.”

Tensing, Akira hurriedly signed, ‘Did we mess up your training schedule for the sports festival? If he had said something, we could-’

Aizawa held up a hand. “No, they liked that schedule better than Mondays and Fridays. If you want to work on your balance more, parkour can help either way.”

Akira hesitated, gently worrying their bottom lip.

“You can think about it,” Aizawa said gently. “I did want to speak with you tonight about what you might face with the case.” At their gesture to continue, Aizawa said, “Since they will either know or figure out that you’re a U.A. student, they may try to get information from you.”

‘Don’t worry, I won’t give them anything,’ Akira signed dismissively. After a moment, they added, ‘What is the average student’s pain tolerance? Wouldn’t want to raise suspicion.’

Aizawa stared back. “You will give them the information they ask about pros, teachers, or the schedule. We can run damage control, and you’re not going to suffer to prove a point.”

‘It’s not a big deal. Not like they’re going to do worse than what I’ve already been through,’ Akira shrugged. Looking away out of habit, they tensed as vertigo made the buildings and street below swim. Akira shook their head, closing their eyes to wait for their senses to return to normal.

Aizawa’s hand gently grasped their arm to steady them, riding out the small flinch. When they opened their eyes again, Akira frowned at the hero’s concerned, slightly amused expression. “You’ve been roof hopping for years, and you don’t like heights?”

Akira blushed, looking towards the middle of the roof this time. ‘I know it doesn’t make sense. I’m working on it.’

“Zashi is deathly afraid of bugs.” Akira looked up at him in confusion. “I’m afraid of hospitals and of losing the people I care about. Everyone has something.”

‘You have reasons for those fears. I have reasons for my other fears. This,’ Akira gestured at the street. ‘doesn’t make sense. It’s just one more “fuck you” from the universe after being trapped my whole life.’

“Why are you afraid of Zashi?” Aizawa asked quietly after a few minutes.

Akira sighed, running a hand down their face. ‘He’s confusing. I don’t know what to expect from him, much less what he expects from me. That’s dangerous with his quirk.’ At his confusion, they continued. ‘I know first-hand what a quirk like his is capable of. I’m not keen to find out what happens when I cross a line I haven’t found yet.’

“He would never intentionally use it against you,” Aizawa gently tried to reassure them. “Zashi would calmly tell you that you’d crossed a line and, depending on what you did, may give extra homework, scold you, or step away from the situation.”

Akira’s eyes narrowed. ‘To do what?’

“Cool off. Sometimes he goes into a soundproof room. Sometimes he quietly grades by himself. Most of the time – unless I’m the one who crossed the line – he comes to me and talks.”

After a few minutes, Akira stood up and stretched. ‘I’m heading back.’

Aizawa let them pass towards the middle of the roof before quietly asking, “How’s Toya?”

‘Stressed. The League put him in charge of the names I passed for the trial run, but they’re not giving him any information on where they’re going or what they’re doing.’ After a moment, they added, ‘I didn’t know you two had history. He knows you tried to launch an investigation after his “death.”’

Aizawa nodded, expression darkening. “It was the first time I saw how corrupt the Commission is.” Akira’s head snapped up as they tried to school their expression. “I couldn’t get anywhere, especially after Rei was hospitalized and turned into a scapegoat.”

Akira nodded slowly, hesitantly confirming him as a prospect.

[KIDNAP START]

Akira carefully tested the empty quirk suppressant cuffs around their wrists, putting on a show of wincing as the spikes dug into their skin. Haru cuffed them over the head and the three tensed at a deep chuckle from the far end of the warehouse.

“Careful now, gentleman,” the voice purred. “Don’t rough up the merchandise too much.”

A somewhat distorted lone figure with dusty grey skin and glowing red eyes stepped out from the shadows. Trench coat billowing behind him, the figure sized up Akira.

Shit. Mortis felt a deep sense of calmness wash over them, smoothing their features.

“Impressive, how did you acquire such a… unique specimen?”

“The kid was poking their nose where they don’t belong,” Haru said casually. “We were going to have some fun, but your offer came first.”

Isao dragged Mortis forward and the figure circled them, observing the slight twitches. “A fighter, as I would expect. I’ll take it for what we agreed upon.” Tossing the briefcase to Haru, the figure grabbed Mortis by the arm and led them out of the warehouse.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

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onthepageauthorservicesllc · 1 year ago

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Magical Miri A Coming of Age Paranormal/Urban Fantasy with Witches (Gifted Girls Series Book 1) Debra Kristi

They had it wrong when they said with great power comes great responsibility. More like, great power comes with a target on your back. And considering my bloodline is derived from one of the strongest witches in New Orleans’ past, the target on my back is huge. Of course, that’s not how mom explained it when she ripped us from our home in the Garden District and forced me to start a new school in the French Quarter—a place where my family isn't welcome. No, she said she was just ‘trying to protect us from fanciful ideas. But now I'm being preyed on by vampires and haunted by a creepy, stalker ancestor in my head, and the only silver lining is Phillip, my could-be boyfriend. So why does Mom's boyfriend seem dead set on chasing him away? Finding out is easier said than done with the devil in the work sleeping under the same roof, but if I don’t, it will be more than life as I know it crashing down around me. It’ll be the supernatural world swallowing me whole. This fast-paced, action-packed, young adult paranormal coming-of-age adventure, about a New Orleans, magickal bloodline family, is ideal for fans of The Bane Chronicles and The Originals. MAGICAL MIRI is the first of five books in the completed, binge-ready Gifted Girl Series.

#author #book worm #writer #fantasy romance

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childrenslitbookreviews · 1 year ago

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The Hate U Give

Title 7: The Hate U Give

Genre: Young Adult

Target Age Group: 15+

Summary:

Starr lives in a rough black neighborhood but goes to a nice school with white kids. One night, she flees a party with an old friend, Khalil, when gunshots go off. They are pulled over by a cop who mistakes her friend’s hairbrush for a gun and shoots him to death. This is the second friend she has seen shot to death and she is only sixteen. Riots start when word gets out that Khalil was unarmed. Starr just wants to hide and for everything to go back to normal. However, over the next few weeks, she sees how Khalil is portrayed in the news as a thug drug dealer who deserved to die. Starr decides to speak up for Khalil and make sure he is not just another statistic. She testifies for the District Attorney, but it ultimately changes nothing and the riots start all over again.

Justification: I have seen this book featured in many Young Adult recommended lists and we have carried it on our bookmobile out to poor neighborhoods in Houston for several years now. When I realized that it had won the Printz Award, I knew that I had to see what impact this book could have on me.

Evaluation:

First, the characters have complex motivations. Her father is a former gangbanger and son of a notorious gang leader, however he goes straight when he is able to make a deal with his father in prison to get out of the gange. He also believes in the tenets of unity and helping out fellow black people in need from the tenets of the Black Panthers. Davante used to sell drugs for King, but stole from him to get his mom and sister out of the bad neighborhood when his brother was shot and killed. Garden Heights is not a “bad neighborhood”. It has extremely lovable characters who make amazing cakes and help each other out when they are going through tough times. No one in this book is just a gang member, just a scared teenager, or just a cop protecting other cops. However, this doesn’t always come off as believable. It feels a little too convenient that there is a cop with a heart of gold willing to protect kids from a gang leader, a former gang member with a heart of gold looking to protect kids from going back to that way of life, and a whole neighborhood willing and courageous enough to snitch on the most powerful gang leader there.

Second, Starr has a complex inner world. At first, she is shocked that an old friend is just suddenly dead. She feels guilty that she wasn’t able to stop it, didn’t spend more time with him, and didn't admit her feelings for him sooner. She feels ashamed that she is dating a white boy because it feels like she is betraying her race and turning her back on her culture. She feels afraid to speak up because she has seen how cops mistreat her father for her testifying in front of the DA, her friends will treat her differently, her boyfriend will treat her differently, and the gangs will see her as a snitch. But with encouragement and talking with her family, she is emboldened to speak up for Khalil and be his voice when he can’t defend himself. She is emboldened to call out microaggressions and racist comments from former friends. She is no longer scared into submission to keep the status quo intact.

Third, the author, Angie Thomas, doesn’t pull any punches when it comes to violence. Thomas portrays Starr as crying and throwing up every time that she has to relay the death of Khalil. She is traumatized by seeing her other friend, Natasha, killed when she was just ten years old. The bad sides of living in Garden Heights are not glossed over. There is a deep sadness and awkwardness around the drug addict mother. The desperation of poverty seeps into everything that the neighborhood touches. But somehow the people keep going about their daily lives showing strength through perseverance and unity. They support the neighborhood even while acknowledging its inherent danger that’s bad for young kids to be around.

References:

Thomas, A. (2017). The Hate U Give. HarperCollins Publishers.

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college-girl199328 · 2 years ago

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WARMINGTON: The Kayla Lemieux show cancelled; no longer at Oakville School

Kayla Lemieux may no longer be in the classroom at Oakville Trafalgar High School, but students, staff, and parents remain in the dark as to whether the shop teacher could one day return.

While the Halton District School Board has indicated the 39-year-old male teacher — who claims to be intersex, identifies as female, and insists large breasts are from a rare condition and not prosthetics — is no longer assigned to a school, it’s unclear what happens next.

For this reason, the Students First Ontario group that pushed the board to deal with the Lemieux situation and has been pressing for a new set of rules revolving around professional representation in the classroom has started a new GoFundMe campaign to help pay for legal fees.

Celina Close, one of the organizers who appeared on Newstalk 1010 Thursday morning with John Moore and later spoke to the Sun, made the point that “this was never about Kayla Lemieux” but “always about the students in the classroom, their future, their safety, their learning.”

Thanks to the international circus that was the Lemieux story, all of those things the school was supposed to be about for the kids no longer were.

Now the board has to clean up the mess that was left behind. But it’s the same people who caused the disaster who are now the ones who will fix it.

One parent of an 11-year-old has come forward with an example at the Upper Grand District School Board in Guelph where, in the middle of the Lemieux saga, grade 6 students were asked to do a book report on several books, including one called L’Ouragan et moi, which in English translates to The Hurricane and Me.

A translation of the explanation of the book from the publisher states: “My father knew from a very young age that she was a girl, not a boy; my mother and I didn’t know… Louis had kept that in the bottom of his heart, like a real secret. Not a little secret like a piece of cake eaten on the sly, no. A real secret that we keep to ourselves because it is too big to be shared. So, in 2013, Louis gave way to Ingrid. But not everyone understands the situation, so Philemon is sometimes teased at school.

The parent told The Toronto Sun that there’s nothing wrong with an author writing about “a biracial family” where “the white father decides he wants to now be a white woman” and the “son is so happy he now has two moms.”

But what is wrong is that the “parents were not told about it” and found it in the child’s school bag.

“Our kids have missed so much school with the pandemic; we have that Oakville teacher being allowed to teach our kids wearing that outrageous outfit, and now our kids are having to read books like this and give a presentation,” while parents are given no heads up about it.

Just like with what happened In Halton, this parent said there is a feeling of helplessness.

“I feel that if I reach out to the school or school board, I’ll be called transphobic, and my kid may be punished.”

We reached out to the UGDSB three times on Thursday but have yet to hear back.

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rkstransport · 2 years ago

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Tips to Consider When Relocating with Kids

Moving can be difficult at any age, but for children who're not involved in the decision process, it can be considerably more stressful. Moving with kids often comes with added difficulties, regardless of how old your kids are, from toddlers to teenagers.

Kids are more sensitive, as you are probably aware. Therefore, one must handle them carefully throughout the relocation process because they become upset when they don't like the new environment, which can further cause discomfort and tension. Even though each child and family environment is unique, here are our top tips for making shifting with kids as simple as possible for all of us.

Talk to your children about the move

Children may find it difficult to process a relocation, so start talking to them about it as early as you can to help them get ready. Even if your child might not be able to fully understand the idea of moving into a new house, it's still crucial to let them know in advance. How well your child adjusts to their new home depends greatly on how well you have prepared them before the move.

The following suggestions will help the talk with your young child go smoothly:

Inform them that nothing will change in the new house. Inform them that their daily schedule and family structure won't alter.

Insist that you are taking all of their belongings with you. They won't be without their furniture, toys, or blankets.

To explain the situation to them in a way that they can grasp, try making a story.

Put yourself on their level. So that you may make eye contact, pick up your child or sit next to them.

Without going into too much detail, let them know what to expect the day of the relocation.

Find Kid-Friendly Attractions In Your New Town

Depending on their age, your child is likely to ask "where to?" when you inform them you are relocating. Show your child all the things to do in their current location to get them enthusiastic about the relocation. If you are relocating to a district of a big city, look into the attractions there as well.

Understand that your household will be moving, and plan ahead with your children in mind. If your child plays baseball for a team, be sure to look up comparable teams in their new area and give them this information. You should also be aware of the amenities offered by the district, such as parks, playgrounds, and swimming pools.

Research Nearby Schools

Parents must carefully assess schools in your new area before moving, whether they plan to enroll their children in the public school system or are thinking about private schooling possibilities.

Moving your family during the summer allows your child to start the new school year off fresh. Early summer moves give you more time to consider your educational alternatives, but it's better to do this before choosing a new house.

Plan Room Arrangements

Make room plans for your children to create excitement about the new home . Allow them to participate in the arrangement and decorating of other rooms in the house if they are interested. Take the kids along if you're going to buy new furniture if they seem interested. Set a budget for teenagers and allow them to decorate their own rooms, choosing the color, furniture, and accessories. You can create a budget and collaborate with children to carry out their ideas.

Pack Your Children's Belongings Carefully

The items for your child should be packed last. Include your child in the packing process when it comes to their belongings. To make children feel included, assist them in putting their toys in a box. You should take extra care to mark that box in a way that your child can understand. To ensure that they are the first items you unpack and open in your new house, pack the boxes containing your child's belongings into the moving container.

Plan Your Move with RKS Transport

Relocating through RKS Transport is an excellent alternative for families with young kids because our service provides you more time to pack and unpack. It's not necessary to squeeze all of the pressure of packing and moving within a day! When you're ready, we'll pick up your items and deliver them to your new home.

Final Words

These are some tips for parents moving with children. You can prepare your child for happiness in your new place and in their future by being patient and paying special care to their needs.

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maatryoshkaa · 4 years ago

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young god | epilogue

chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11| 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | epilogue

word count: 4.4k

description: it’s been five years since the Miroh Heights murder cases came to a close — and five long, bittersweet years since you’d caught a glimpse of Han Jisung. Things in Miroh Heights have changed drastically since then — but when Felix sets you up on another blind date in an attempt to help you move on from the past, you realise that, once again, you’ve signed up for much more than you bargained for.

masterlist

recommended listening: stray kids - “sunshine”

epilogue.

“See ya, Miss l/n!”

You turned to wave back at the little girl who had called your name, her round eyes visibly bright from the waiting room of your clinic. Seven years old, front teeth just beginning to come in. One of her hands clutched a half-unwrapped lollipop as her mother held onto the other.

The first time you had seen them, the child had been unwilling to speak — bullied relentlessly at school, her mother had informed you through a veil of desperate tears — but now, her laughter filled the warm air, traumas that had once been etched into a too-young face already beginning to heal and fade.

Evening sunshine warmed your cheeks the moment you stepped out of the building’s doors, a light breeze rustling the papers in your hand as you quickly tucked them into your bag. “Five years of graduate school hasn’t made you more organised,” Felix often teased you, and you would smack his shoulder in retaliation.

Five years hadn’t changed your friendship in the slightest, either—and you had to admit you were beyond grateful for that.

As always, the city around you was humming with life: evening rush hour, with people darting here and there, frantically flagging down taxis and catching their buses. Usually, on days like these, you should have been hopping into the first cab home and collapsing like a corpse as soon as you reached your apartment. But today, you remembered with a sigh, was not going to be one of those days.

“Hey, Doctor l/n!”

You whipped your head towards the voice, a smile spreading across your tired features as you saw who it belonged to. In a slightly jaded Mini Cooper—second hand, of course, but worked just like new — Yang Jeongin waved at you from the driver’s seat.

“I’m not a doctor, ‘innie,” you reminded him playfully as he unlocked the passenger door and let you climb in.

“Not a doctor yet,” he corrected you, grinning. “Besides, ‘child therapist’ doesn’t have as much of a ring to it.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing, and waved at another one of your patients as Jeongin started the engine. “You really didn’t have to offer to drive me, you know — the streets are a nightmare during this hour.”

“It’s not that far,” Jeongin protested, “Plus, I barely get to see you now, you’re so busy.” You didn’t have the heart to argue. The kid loved being behind the wheel so much, he made it seem like you were doing him a favour.

You watched Jeongin turn onto the main road, squeezing the car in between a van and a motorcyclist. He really had grown up over the last few years — his hair was darker now, remarkably sharp cheekbones overtaking his once-rounded cherub cheeks — but in some ways, nothing had changed at all. He still had that natural knack of brightening whatever room he stepped in — the Yang Jeongin effect, Hyunjin called it. And his heart was still too big for his own good: you remembered how he had adamantly refused to take the money Jisung kept offering him after the case had finally closed, and when Hyunjin had asked him why, Jeongin had simply replied, “After everything that’s happened, it doesn’t feel like he’s the one who owes me.”

On the other hand, Jeongin had been more than happy to take Prosecutor Kang’s compensation money instead, and had finally visited a car dealership with you and Hyunjin.

The moment he had seen the Mini-Cooper — a beat-up thing from the 90s that you were amazed was still running — the younger boy’s eyes had lit up. “It’s just...it looks like the one our family used to have, before...the incident,” he had explained sheepishly, making you and Hyunjin exchange a look. And so, after a fiery back-and-forth between you and the salesman—not to mention a few sleepless nights at the mechanic’s — the rest was history.

The light turned green, and you spotted a photograph wobbling on the dashboard — a laughing child you recognised immediately as Jeongin. Behind him, a woman with a familiar wide smile had her arms around a man with eyes resembling a fox’s, with none of the slyness. “How’s your dad these days?”

“Mostly stays at home taking care of my mum, but he swears he wouldn’t have it any other way.” Jeongin turned his head to you excitedly, as if a thought just hit him. “She got out of bed a couple days ago, you know? The first time ever since my dad left.”

Your mouth fell open in a surprised smile, and Jeongin continued, “He’s real excited he got to teach me how to drive, too. I think he feels like he missed out on a lot of things, like...walking me home from school. Teaching me how to ride a bike. Graduation.” He shrugged. His words might have sounded sad at first, but you could see the way the lines of Jeongin’s face were more relaxed now, at peace.

“Mind if I make a quick stop?” Jeongin asked abruptly, and you checked your watch before shaking your head lightly.

“I’m still about twenty minutes early. We’ve got plenty of time.”

He turned onto a familiar street, and you rolled down the window as Glow Cafe slowly came into view. It was just as busy as it had ever been — even the cars were stalling by the curb — but Hwang Hyunjin spotted you almost immediately, waving through the glass window. Quickly hopping out, Jeongin popped the trunk open, and you watched him haul two crates of coffee beans into the bustling cafe. The once-famed “delivery boy” of Miroh Heights only really did deliveries for Glow Cafe now, after Hyunjin had offered Jeongin a position as a barista until he graduated—and although he wasn’t the best with his hands (or his memory, for that matter), Hyunjin didn’t mind in the slightest.

“Him being here is more than enough for business. You should see the students flock in here every morning just to catch a glimpse of him.” The former barista snorted. “What’d I tell you? They’re eating him right up.”

They waved at Jeongin now as he jogged obliviously out of the cafe, Hyunjin’s laughs muted by the glass as he threw you a knowing wink. He had graduated himself, two years ago, officially inheriting the business after his grandmother had passed away. Glow Cafe had since come a long way, with Hyunjin always at the forefront of new design ideas and enthusiastically telling you about his plans to expand even more in the future.

“Get this: ‘CEO Hwang, the most eligible bachelor of Miroh Heights,’” Felix held up his hands as if picturing a giant headline, giving his signature wolf whistle as you burst into laughter and Hyunjin kicked the blond man in the shin. “Ow!”

“How did you even get into the press with those cheesy titles?” Hyunjin groaned.

“Not just ‘get into the press’, ‘jinnie,” you reminded him, giggling, “he’s the head journalist now!”

It was true—with his impeccable wit and seamless way with words, it came to nobody’s surprise when Felix maneuvered his way to the top of the local press in a matter of years. The head of the press still loathed him with a biting passion— “I can feel her glares all the way from her office,” Felix retorted — and rumour had it that the two seemed to fire shots at each other all day long. The image of a powder-faced, middle-aged woman bickering with your notoriously insufferable best friend made you laugh, but you also knew deep down that Felix always took his job more seriously than he let on. His eloquent articles had gotten his name out across the city in no time, and so you took comfort in knowing that — no matter how hard the head of the press bared her teeth—nobody could touch Lee Felix now.

Five years, you thought to yourself wistfully, eyes catching a familiar detective’s office as Jeongin drove past. What a trip down memory lane. You’d seldom come by this part of town since then, and seeing the familiar buildings sent a flood of memories and mixed feelings stirring in your chest.

The well-loved Detective Bang, much to the disappointment of adoring students and professors alike, had moved abroad to a bigger city—whether he had been taken by a new precinct, or a new big case, you couldn’t be sure. “Rumour has it he’s doing undercover work now,” Seungmin had mentioned to you once in passing, “We haven’t heard from him in a while, but he’s making a big name for himself out there, that’s for sure.”

The District Nine police station whizzed by you in a blur, and more of the prosecutor’s words rang through your head.

“Meanwhile, the chief of police keeps insisting he’s glad to be rid of him, but we all know he secretly misses Chan.” Seungmin had shaken his head, and you had smiled at the image of the stoic police captain—chief, now—grudgingly sulking over the loss of his best friend.

Jeongin made one last turn, and the narrow buildings opened up into the heart of Miroh Heights—the oldest part of town, where the roller rink, record shop, and the diner were. The sight of Mia’s Diner made you sink down instinctively in the passenger seat, and you couldn’t keep the raw dread out of your voice as you let out a long sigh.

Jeongin gave you sympathetic look. “For someone who’s going on a blind date, you don’t sound too happy.”

“That’s because I’m not, Jeongin. I don’t even know why Felix keeps insisting on these. The last time I agreed to one was—” you broke off before you could finish what you were saying, the unspoken words echoing in your mind. The last time I agreed to one was when I met Jisung.

That’s right—the last official blind date you had been on, you had met Han Jisung — and he had turned your entire world upside down. For years afterwards, you had told yourself that you wouldn’t take that day back for the entire world, but now...now, you weren’t so sure.

After all, how could you be sure of someone you hadn’t heard from in over five years?

The rehabilitation centre didn’t allow letters in or out— you had learned that the hard way after your first letters had been sent directly back to your doorstep. Usually, they had told you, if things went well, patients could start correspondence again after a year or so—but you had gotten absolutely nothing. Not a single word.

Five years—he should have been out by now. He could have been anywhere, doing anything—but he certainly hadn’t remembered to write or even call you.

Had he really forgotten about you?

“Five years is a long time, y/n,” Felix told you gently, after you had adamantly refused the blind date he kept insisting on. “People...change, and maybe he’s—moved on.”

Moved on.

You didn’t know how to tell Felix how much the thought of that hurt more than you were willing to admit, how this was the sole reason why you hadn’t been able to go on a single date for the past five years. You didn’t know how to tell him that Jisung hadn’t left your mind since the moment he had disappeared from your sight, five years ago, in the corridor of that courthouse.

“I’ll be waiting,” Jisung had said. And yet he was nowhere to be found. Meanwhile, Felix wasn’t taking no for an answer.

“You’re in your mid-twenties now, y/n. Loosen up a little, yeah? You’re allowed to go on dates, for goodness’ sake.”

“I’m hopeless, ‘lix. I’m pretty sure the stray dog on the street has a more interesting love life than me.”

“Maybe,” Felix mused, “I think I saw it running around with a litter of puppies the other da—ow!”

“You okay? You look kind of sick,” Jeongin remarked, pulling you out of your thoughts. “Got everything you need?”

You resisted the urge to laugh. If only Jeongin knew how you had prepared for this date—by mapping out all the ways you were going to end it as quickly as possible. Faking food poisoning? Check. Arrange a time for a friend to call you and pretend an emergency came up? Check— although Hyunjin had had a strange glint in his eyes when he had agreed to it. Worst comes to worst? Pepper spray, check. You let out a slow exhale. “Sure. All set.”

You thanked Jeongin with a hug and hopped out of the car. Just as you began walking towards the diner, you heard him call out behind you.

“Oh, yeah, Felix told me pass on a message — from him to you.” You turned back, and Jeongin gave a boyish grin that was half apologetic, half laughing. “‘Go get ‘em, tiger!’”

You gave an exasperated cry and yanked open the diner door.

━━━━━━━━

You were beginning to wonder if you’d been stood up.

Mia’s Diner was usually busy, bustling with students and townspeople alike, and tonight it truly was: booths packed with couples both old and new, laughter and the smell of food wafting through the warm air as friends and families celebrated the start of summer. The jukebox was on and playing an old disco song you liked but didn’t know the name of, the checkered floor tiles clicking with the sounds of brisk waitresses’ heels and dancing feet.

You didn’t know why Felix had insisted on coming here, of all places, what with the mixed emotions and memories you had tied to it, but you had to admit that the jovial atmosphere of Mia’s Diner on a Friday night never really disappointed. You found yourself relaxing slightly—just slightly, bobbing your head lightly to the music.

“Mia’s Diner?” You repeated incredulously. “Seriously, Felix, do you only know one date location? For the so-called ‘Matchmaker of Miroh Heights’, you’re sure lacking in the variety department.”

“Easy, tiger. Just trust me on this one, okay? You’re gonna owe me one.”

“I’m not—” you began indignantly, but Felix continued.

“Plus, the poor guy in question hasn’t been on a date in years, either. You both need this.”

“Years? Are you setting me up with a hermit?”

“Oh, yeah. A big-time loser, seriously— but don’t tell him I said that. Just — indulge him a bit, okay, y/n? I promise you won’t regret it.”

And so, for the second time, Felix’s schemes and pleading puppy eyes had gotten you here—sitting at an empty booth, waiting for a blind date. He hadn’t even bothered to show you a picture of the man in question. You couldn’t help the smile from slowly slipping from your face as each minute passed, and you nibbled your lip anxiously.

Your date was thirty minutes late.

You peered out the window, at the lights of the town glowing a faint neon against the clear evening skies. Each time a car filled in a parking space, you sat up, craning your neck to see if it was him—before slumping back down in disappointment. Five years, you thought to yourself glumly. Five years, and you still had no luck with dates. Maybe you just had no luck with love, you thought dryly. You imagined Felix laughing later when you told him about it and sighed, a twinge of worry replacing the dread in your gut.

Had something gone wrong?

After turning the waitress away for the eighth time, you fished out your phone from your pocket, tapping on the foreign number Felix had given you. Zero new messages, zero missed calls. At least I can tell Felix I tried, you thought glumly. Maybe I should just call Jeongin again, and ask him to pick me up. And then you could drop by Glow Cafe for a bit, before trudging back to your apartment like a fallen soldier.

Just as you were punching in Jeongin’s name, feeling a sense of guilty relief wash over you, you vaguely registered the diner door swinging open beneath the lively music, and a pair of footsteps trying to shuffle past the dancing couples.

For a split second, you thought you saw a pair of tattered black Converse—laces untied, soles worn—but the mirage disappeared, and was replaced by a pair of dress shoes that eventually came to a stop at your booth. You sighed, fighting back the tears that had suddenly threatened to well in your eyes. Shit. This is not the time to be thinking about him. Why were you still thinking about him? And why on earth had you agreed to this?

You lifted your gaze, trying to muster up a smile, hoping your disappointment didn’t show on your face—

And immediately froze.

“Hello.”

Standing before you, looking almost like an apparition — a golden silhouette against the backdrop of the dim diner — was Han Jisung.

You had to blink several times to realise you weren’t hallucinating again. He looked...different, and yet in some ways, he looked entirely the same: his hair was shorter, but tousled as it had always been, cheeks flushed and breathless as if—as if he’d been running through a storm.

You felt your body moving before any intelligible thoughts could form in your head, pulling you forwards like a magnet until you were standing face-to-face, your shaky eyes darting across his features, not daring to believe what you were seeing.

All of a sudden, the glint in Hyunjin and Jeongin’s eyes made sense, Felix’s words replaying in your head as overwhelmed tears began welling in your eyes without warning.

“The poor guy in question hasn’t been on a date in years, either.”

“A big-time loser, seriously — but don’t tell him I said that. Just — indulge him a bit, okay, y/n? I promise you won’t regret it.”

“Y-you—are such a dork,” you stammered out, one hand weakly hitting Jisung’s chest as you felt the tears finally spill down your face. “Han Jisung, you are such a d—”

Your words were cut off when Jisung pulled you into his arms, his head falling to rest in the crook of your neck. Your shoulders shook with muffled sobs as you buried your face in his chest, memorising everything about this feeling, not wanting to take a single second for granted, memorising everything about him. Jisung no longer carried with him that scent of gasoline and fire — instead, he smelled faintly of lemongrass, and a hint of warm, fresh laundry.

“I missed you,” you finally whispered hoarsely, “I just—missed you, so much.”

He chuckled in your ear, the low, familiar hum stirring faint, faraway memories in your head, and you gripped onto his shirt harder, as if he would disappear completely if you didn’t hold on tight enough.

Jisung had found you in the crowded diner before you had seen him — just like the first time he had met you. And just like the first time, he had felt his breath hitch in his throat, hands hesitating on the door, wondering if he should turn back instead. He had watched you bob your head gently to the music, a small, tentative smile on your face.

You looked good — no, amazing. Different, and yet entirely the same. Kind, worried eyes catching him completely off guard, like the flash of a camera.

Just as bright.

Just as brilliant.

The truth was, there hadn’t been a single day where he hadn’t thought of you — of your voice, your touch, your laugh. Jisung had asked Felix for help the moment he had gotten released, but what he hadn’t forseen was your reaction.

“She won’t go on a blind date, mate,” Felix had informed him exasperatedly, “Took weeks of convincing. Good news, though — she finally caved. You sneaky, hopeless romantic bastard.”

She might have forgotten me, Jisung had thought. And even if you hadn’t, you might not even welcome the sight of him—after all, he hadn’t been in touch since he had left, all those years ago. But in the end, the inexplicable pull in his chest had grown unbearable, and he found himself walking towards you, wading through the crowd, feeling the ache in his heart softening with each step he took. All the way back to you.

You pulled away slowly, vision blurry as Jisung lifted a hand to cup your face, never taking eyes off yours. He had grown in the time you had been apart—he was taller, his once-lean frame stronger—and, most of all, there was a light in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he murmured softly, and you laughed in disbelief, “I think you’re my blind date.”

“How—w-why—”

“I told you I wanted to do this all over again, didn’t I? And I promised that I would try to do it right this time.” Jisung smiled apologetically, wiping your tear stained cheeks with his thumb. “I’m sorry it took so long.”

You shook your head, eyes widening when you saw what he had been carefully clutching in his other hand: a small bouquet of sunflowers, their golden yellow petals as tousled as Jisung’s own blond locks.

“Apparently they symbolise new beginnings,” Jisung said, pulling a stray petal from your hair and chuckling, “Keeping promises. Eternal happiness. That kind of thing.”

“Why didn’t you write?” You whispered, as Jisung tucked the bouquet into your hands.

“I wanted to...to heal. In every sense of the word. I didn’t want to show you, until I...knew I was really better. Believe me, I wanted to.” Jisung’s voice dropped to a whisper, as if he were fighting back tears. “I wanted to, so, so badly.”

You shook your head, mumbling something about how much of a stubborn idiot he was, and Jisung’s laugh made a hesitant smile tug at your lips. As if sensing the lightening atmosphere, the waitress had promptly appeared behind Jisung and meekly cleared her throat, setting down the menu. Jisung turned back to look at you, his grin growing playful.

“I hope you’re hungry?”

The diner seemed to come back to you all at once in a flood of senses, the music and murmur of restaurant goers sending a pleasant hum through your veins as you and Jisung sat down. The night went by in a warm blur, Jisung telling you about his life at the institute, the unlikely friends he had made, the dreams he hadn’t realised he had.

“I’m going to go back to school,” he admitted, one hand rubbing the back of his neck shyly. “I’ll be a bit behind, but...I want to study something I actually like this time.”

You had told him about how you had been working in a child therapy ward ever since you had graduated, about all the children you had met and loved and cared for. As you talked about them, you saw a wistful look in Jisung’s eyes, and a thought crossed your mind. “Have you heard anything from—from Minho?”

He gave a small smile, but shook his head. “Rarely. It hasn’t been long since he was released, but he said he was planning on going abroad. Doing some travelling. I think...he’ll reach out when he’s ready.” He then added, as an afterthought, “And if he doesn’t, I wouldn’t blame him.”

The sad simplicity of Jisung’s words stirred a strange feeling you couldn’t quite place in your chest, and your mind flashed back to the cold-eyed coroner and his stiff smiles; then, to the raw pain that had cracked through his strained features the last time you had caught a glimpse of him. Maybe you would meet again one day, or maybe that truly would be the last you ever heard of him.

Healing of the mind, you knew, was a strange process—one that always took much longer than you would expect. There were always scars that reopened along the way, old hidden wounds that surfaced right when you least expected them. There would always be answers you might never find, you mused sadly, closure you might never get.

But sometimes, you thought as you listened to Jisung talk, memorizing the feeling of his fingers interlaced with yours, sometimes we can only hope to hold onto what we already have.

The end of the night drew closer, and when Jisung and you had stepped outside the diner, the city was swimming in the dark ochre of the setting sun. Eventually, the two of you ended up back in the wide garden behind the hospital, your laughs and giddy conversation slowly hushing into softer murmurs. In the distance, the rush of cars on the main road grew sparser, the windows of the buildings around you flickering to life one by one like young stars. Here, though, as you rested your head on Jisung’s shoulder beneath a willow tree, the world seemed to stand still, and all was quiet.

You heard Jisung yelp suddenly and looked down to see a familiar dog pattering around your feet—a stray, with scraggly fur like an overgrown teddy bear that had been through the wash one too many times. It immediately pounced onto Jisung, beginning to lick your boyfriend’s face like no tomorrow.

“Oof! Hey there, old buddy.”

You laughed, scooping the dog off—only after it had gotten a few slobbery licks in—and shivered slightly as a cool night wind swept past you. Noticing, Jisung shrugged off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders as you raised a teasing eyebrow at the cliche move.

“It looks good on you,” Jisung insisted, and you laughed incredulously.

“Your jacket?” You asked, ruffling the dog’s ears as it curled up at your feet.

At that, Jisung looked back up at you—seeing the faint outline of your smile in the dark, your eyes sparkling as you looked back at him expectantly, obliviously—and in that moment, Jisung wondered what he had ever done to deserve someone as perfect as you.

After a beat, he replied, “Happiness. Happy looks good on you, love.”

Your mouth parted in surprise—both at his words, and at the unexpected name—and Jisung took the chance to lean in and kiss you, pressing his soft lips to yours. Gently, at first — carefully, but as you began to kiss him back, you felt Jisung slowly relax. You kissed him the way you had wanted to for so long, feeling the years of distance, of heartache, of endless waiting finally unravel beneath your lips. His hands reached up to gingerly cup your face, pulling you closer into him as if he never intended to let go.

Happy looks good on you, too, Han Jisung, you wanted to say once you pulled away, forehead still lightly pressed to his. And you deserve it, more than anything. You watched Jisung’s features come back into focus beneath the dim moonlight. His gaze was fixed on yours, filled with nothing but pure adoration, and you felt a sudden surge of warmth coursing through your chest.

I love you, you wanted to tell him, more than you could ever know — but something in the warm yet playful look in Jisung’s eyes told you that he was already thinking the exact same thing.

So you just smiled, and leaned in to kiss him again.

YOUNG GOD | END

ryu says: to you — yes, you, who has reached the end of this series! this epilogue is my way of saying a big thank you to those who stayed along for the entire wild ride that was young god. thank you for loving the characters, the world of miroh heights, and of course, the story! there are easter eggs and full-circle moments all throughout this epilogue, so i hope you enjoy and have fun finding them all ^^

disclaimer: in my opinion, all epilogues are open to interpretation: i’ve left some characters’ stories untold, some loose ends untied for this exact reason. miroh heights’ story has finally come to a close here, but what happens to the characters from this moment on continues in the reader’s mind now.

all that cheesy, pretentious stuff aside, i hope to see you in the next story!

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thebookwormfairy · 4 years ago

Text

Kelpto!Marinette Au: Ft. Captain the Retired Police Dog

(Daminette)

In this au Hawkmoth isn't active (yet) so Marinette doesn't have her miraculous (yet)

Daminette Masterlist

First things first, Captain loves his girl

Even if she had sticky fingers

He knows she's never stolen anything from stores but she does "borrow" stuff from her friends

He first noticed it when her friend Luka came over

She kept taking his guitar picks and giving them back

At one point she took it out of his hand as he was playing

Luka didn't seem mad about her taking them in fact he seemed amused if not a little fascinated by her ability to do so

The there was the time she was with her other friend Kagami

She took her fencing foil right out of her hand

Captain expect the usually cold girl to get angry at Marinette so he jumped up from his place on the side lines to protect his girl

But as he made it to his girl's side Kagami started to laugh

Kagami: I should really stop being surprised by you Marinette

Captain was surprised by the girl's reaction but was happy that she wasn't mad at the girl

Captain started to notice that his girl's friends took Marinette skills as a challenge

They would set up mini heist for Marinette to do

They always have different objectives

One of them was to steal a ring off Luka's mom's hand without her noticing

Which of course Marinette succeeded

Anarka was very impressed by this

The loud music man, Jagged Stone, and his mate, Penny Rolling, also seemed to join in on the fun

One time the objective was to steal Fang

Marinette got it done in 30 minutes and just had Fang hang out with her and Captain

The crocodile was in Marinette's room for half a day before Jagged realized that Marinette had already got him

Captain notice that these heist would usually happen whenever Marinette was stress, like when she had a lot of commissions or it was exam time at her shool

It seemed that Marinette had her sticky fingers under control until they went to Gotham

Captain could tell that Marinette was excited to go to another country

But he could also tell that she was nervous to be without her family and close friends

She wasn't on bad terms with most of the class but she wasn't exactly on good terms either

It was almost like a stalemate in a war

A war between Marinette and Lila

They were civil was the best way to describe it

But that didn't mean that Lila wasn't looking for every opportunity to to push the stalemate to her favor

For that reason Captian snucked onto the plane so that his girl would have somebody with her

Of course Lila tried to make it out like Marinette did it on purpose

But luckily Marinette was quickly able to prove that she had nothing to do with it

Marinette: I have absolutely no supplies with me to take care of Captain! What kind of irresponsible dog owner would sneak a dog into another country without making sure they had to proper shots, food, and supplies?!?!

The class had to admit if there was one thing Marinette would never do it would be putting Captain in a situation that would put him in danger

So Marinette got Captain everything he needed while the class was out shopping

Though Marinette was thrilled to have Captain with her she was stressed that Lila was going to do something to the good boy

Marinette knew Gotham was a dangerous city and she wouldn't put it past Lila to cause some sort of "accident" to either her or Captain

So with her stress level up Marinette felt her fingers begin to itch

Usually she would turn to Luka and Kagami for times like this but they were on the other side of the planet

She could feel her fingers start to twitch as she walked around the block that her class was exploring

She always been good at controlling her kelpto tendencies but her nerves were really making them act up

She started to fidget with the stuff in her pocket when she heard shouting

Marinette looked up and saw a man running from a woman

Woman: Stop that man! He took my purse!

Marinette angled her body so that she would be in the man's path

The man not paying attention to the girl now in his path ran into Marinette

He was in such a hurry he didn't realize that Marinette had switch the woman's purse for a used poop bag when he ran into her

The man continued running not realizing the switch as Marinette walked over to the woman

Marinette handing the woman her purse: Here you go

Woman: Thank you so much

Marinette: No problem

Jason in the roof across the street: Guys you would not believe what I just saw

Tim over com: let me guess you are once again for going work to do patrol during the day

Jason: Yes but you got to hear what I just saw

Dick over com: What Jason?

Jason: I was watching over the shopping district and some guy snatch this woman's purse. I was about to jump in, when he bumped into this girl with a dog who switched the woman's purse with a use pop bag! The guy still hasn't realized the switch I can see him two streets over still running!

Dick: What?!

Tim: Really?! How did she manage that?

Jason: I don't know! She got some quick fingers on her! But we can't tell Bruce. She's right in his MO for adoption

Tim: Black hair blue eyes?

Jason: Exactly!

Damian over com: Will you three idiots quiet down! Unlike you three I still have school work to do, and it's hard to do that with you three chattering in my ear. Coms are only suppose to be used for emergencies during the day!

Jason: Oh calm down Demon Spawn. I just couldn't wait to tell y'all about this girl.

Damian annoyed: Well why don't you just ask her out then?

Jason: Nah not really my type, also she's a but too young for me, she looks around your age Demon Spawn

Dick: Ohhh, maybe we should set them up together

Tim: With such quick hands she would be a great addition to our team

Jason: And she has a German sheperd with her

Dick: She sounds great! Right Little Bird?

Damian: I've have enough of this, Damian out.

Damian turned off his com cutting off his brothers' laughter

The last thing Damian needed right now was his brothers trying to set him up with some random girl who was able to trick some low level criminal

The incident with the purse snatcher relieved a bit of Marinette's stress but she could still feel her fingers twitching as she ran them through Captain's fur

She couldn't shake the feeling that something was going to happen soon

She had the okay for Captain to come with her on all her schools outings

But that didn't mean that something wasn't going to happen

She just didn't know what

The next day when Marinette was walking Captain in the park when sheet a nice (and cute) boy named Damian and they hit it off

He was such a sweet boy with his own dogs

The two just seemed to click

All Marinette's free roam time was spent with Damian, Titus, and sometimes Ace

Captain got along great with Titus and he seem to have the same instant connection to Ace

The two were often seen cuddling when Damian brought her along

Captain was a little sketch out about this new boy

He couldn't get rid of this feeling that Damian was hiding something from his girl

He tries to ask Ace and Titus about it but the two just brushed him off

Though Captain did notice as the two got closer his girl's twitchy fingers calmed down and she didn't reach to sneakily borrow something from the people around her

So he begrudgingly accept this strange boy

Marinette had to say the best part about the whole Gotham trip was meeting Damian

The two were just friends but Marinette couldn't denied the spark she felt

There might have been a bit of flirting between the two but Marinette was hesitant to form a deeper relationship with Damian because she knew how hard long distance relationships were

On her final day in Gotham Marinette and Captain went with the class to get a tour at Wayne Enterprise

It was the finally stop before they were to return home

As Marinette entered Wayne Enterprise she was surprised to find Damian their waiting for them with an older man who had black hair and blue eyes

Marinette broke away from her class who were too busy talking among themselves to notice

Marinette: Hey Damian! What are you doing here?

Damian: Hey Angel, Captian-

Dick: Wait you didn't tell her Baby Bird?

Damian blushed at the use of his nickname in front of the girl he admittedly had a crush on

He had done his best to keep her away from his family and had succeeded

The only one he really talk to about Marinette was Dick who promised to keep Marinette between the two of them

But when Damian found out that Marinette and her class were going to be touring Wayne Enterprise on their final day in Gotham

Damian tried to tell Marinette before the day arrived but whenever he was ready to tell her, he would get lost in her big blue eyes or Captain would interrupt them

So as he stood in front of the girl who has wrapped himself around her finger in such a short time he was once again at a lost for words

Marinette wrapping her hand around Damian's and giving it a squeeze: Damian are you okay?

As Marinette pulled away she realized to her horror that she accidentally stole his watch

Damian and Dick stood wide eyed as Marinette held out Damian's watch

They didn't even notice her taking it off him

Marinette: I'm soooo sorry! I really didn't mean to take this! I'm so so so sorry!

Captain moved so that he stood between Marinette's legs ready to protect her if either of the two males in front of him tried to do anything to his girl

As Marinette freaked out a little bit Dick couldn't help but laugh as this young girl was able to pull off that trick without him or Damian noticing

Damian snapping out of his shock: It's okay Marinette, that's actually a really great trick. Not many people can sneak one by me

Marinette blushing: Thanks Damian, but you didn't answer my question. What are you doing here?

Damian scratching the back of his head: Well you see Angel I'm here to help my brother give your class a tour of Wayne Enterprise

Marinette: So your Damian Wayne?

Damian: Yes, I hope that doesn't change anything between us

Marinette smiling: No, it definitely doesn't

Marinette and Captain walked back over to the class

As Damian watched Marinette walk away he went to put his watch back on only to see that it's gone from his hands

He hears a small wuff as he looks up he sees Captain sitting in front of him holding his watch

Dick: That some girl you got there Damian

Damian sighing: Yeah she is

Bonus

Jason seeing a picture of Marinette and Damian together: THAT'S THE GIRL I SAW!!

#maribat #captain the retired police dog #pet headcanon #damian x marinette #marinette x damian

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