#remember abel was a butcher | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

spiritsanddemonspodcast · 3 years ago

Text

Buckle Up, Buttercups

Ed Gein: The Butcher of Plainfield

Edward Theodore Gein was born to parents George and Augusta Gein on Aug 27, 1906, in La Crosse WI. His father, George, was orphaned as a child (his parents and older sister left 3 year old George alone and never returned) which many have speculated caused trauma which made him turn to alcohol. George owned a business, but it was actually purchased by his wife, Augusta.

As for Augusta, she was born and raised Lutheran and believed women were unclean and sinful. She made it known she was not a fan of sex (to say the least). She called it the "foul deed" and it's rumored she only had sex twice, once to conceive Ed's older brother Henry, and once to conceive Ed. She actually wanted a daughter because she was not a fan of men in general.

When Ed was 7, Augusta moved the family from La Crosse WI to Plainfield WI, because she believed the "big city" would cause too much sin and temptation for her sons.

She was extremely religious and incredibly controlling. She actually prevented her sons from making friends, especially with women. Instead of letting them socialize, she kept them ridiculously busy with chores around the farm and home. She had such extreme religious beliefs that she wouldn't even go to church in Plainfield because they did not have a Lutheran Church.

George and Augusta were both extremely emotionally and psychologically abusive to both Henry and Ed, yet somehow Ed became incredibly close to Augusta. So close, in fact, that it actually started to concern Henry.

George died of an alcohol-induced heart attack, I believe, in 1940 and in 1942 Ed was sent for a physical exam for the draft for WWII. He was rejected, and sent back home to his mother and brother.

In 1944, Henry passed away under extremely suspicious circumstances. According to Ed's story, they were out trying to put out a fire on the farm, became separated, and Ed went to get authorities. However - Ed was able to lead authorities directly to his brother as if he knew exactly where he was, which was rather contradictory of his story that they became "separated". Henry's body was not touched by the fire, but did have soot on him. The autopsy revealed bruising on the back of his head indicating that he was struck by a heavy object.

Official cause of death, I believe, was "accidental", however there is plenty of speculation that Ed may have killed his brother in a rather biblical way (thing Cain and Abel - Cain killing his brother Abel for the attention of his parents/God - look it up if you don't know, it's one of the crazy bible cases that just make you go "who wrote this??").

That same year, Augusta had her first stroke and was bed-ridden for a time. Ed cared for her and kept the house and farm up to her standards. He was obsessed with his mother being proud of him.

Then in the winter of 1945, Ed and Augusta went to a neighbor's house to buy hay. Their neighbor, Smith, was out on the front porch when they came up to the house, and was beating a puppy to death with a stick. Smith was, at the time, living with a woman whom he was not related to nor married to, and as he was beating the puppy this woman came out of the house yelling at Smith to stop.

Now, Augusta, who was stupidly religious, was horrified and offended by seeing this woman at their neighbor's house (but apparently not by the mortifying sight of this jackass abusing a poor innocent puppy?? Augusta was a fucked up woman), and Ed maintained until his death that this incident was what caused Augusta's second and fatal stroke.

She passed away in December of 1945.

Now remember - Augusta had completely isolated Ed from the entire world. So now that his father, brother, and now mother were all gone, Ed was alone. Completely and utterly alone. And still mentally very very much a child. So the house quickly became a disaster, and in 1950 still had no electricity or running water. He had to sell a lot of the property and worked odd jobs for people around town to support himself.

He boarded up all of his mother's rooms (her bedroom, sewing area, etc.) and literally never touched them again. Just left them exactly was they were the day she died. A lot of the town believed that the house was haunted, even, before Ed's crimes were discovered.

After his mother's death, Ed became obsessed with personal interests such as true crime magazines, Nazi war crimes, macabre, and tragedy articles in the news papers, etc. Which, on it's own, is not bad. Clearly a lot of people do the same (*coughcough* Bex and Ryan *coughcough*) but most of us them don't go on to dig up graves, murder people, and create ... weird things ... out of people.

On December 8th, 1954, a woman by the name of Mary Hogan disappeared from the tavern that she owned. A lot of the community thought perhaps Ed had a crush on Mary, and that Mary reminded him of his mother. Her disappearance remained unsolved for 3 years, however Ed was always adamant whenever asked that Mary was "at the farm right now".

Then on November 16th, 1957, Bernice Worden, a widow that owned the local general store, disappeared. When asked about the incident, Ed stated he went to the store for antifreeze. He then went back into the store and asked to see a gun. He then states he went into a "daze" and shot her in the head, drug her body out of the store and into the store's van, and drove her back to his home.

She was reported missing that same day by her son, and the police found a receipt for antifreeze on the counter, so they immediately suspected Ed. They went to the Gein farm and searched his property. They found not only Bernice Worden, but Mary Hogan's head as well, and several other incriminating items.

Items found in the house included:

Human bones

Skulls made into bowls

utensils made out of bones

Furniture and Clothing made out of Human skin, including:

a wastebasket

upholstered chairs

corset

leggings

masks

belt made out of nipples

lips on shade drawstrings

gloves

Lampshade

Other human items:

Mary Hogan's face mask

Mary Hogan's skull

Bernice Worden's head

Bernice Worden's heart

Nine vulvae

Four noses

fingernails

So authorities were more likely to believe that Ed had killed a bunch of people far more than they were willing to believe that he had been a grave robber. Which I can kinda see, no one wants to think that there's someone out there stealing other people's bodies (but really? Is that a worse crime than murder? I dunno... I don't personally think so, but that's just me).

Now - there were many missing persons and disappearances that investigators attempted to tie to Ed. These included Evelyn Hartley who disappeared on Oct. 24, 1953, Georgia Weckler (May 1, 1947), Ray Burgess and Victor Travis and their dog (Nov. 1952). None of them were able to be conclusively tied back to Ed as they don't fit his typical MO. He was far more likely to rob graves than murder random people. And the two women whom he is confirmed to have killed were very similar to his mother.

Once police finally accepted that Ed was, indeed, robbing graves, they realized who his victims were.

Eleanor Adams, who had died Aug. 26, 1951, was dug up by Ed and her body was replaced with a crowbar (a fucking crowbar! What???). Mabel Everson (April 15, 1951), who they found parts of about 15" below the surface of her grave (clothing, bone fragments, her jaw, part of her skull, portion of her leg, her dental plates, and her wedding ring). There were 7 other victims, but the police did not continue digging up the graves due to Ed's claims of grave robbing having been substantiated.

It's worth noting that during this time, it wasn't actually common practice to bury a body 6 feet below. They were actually buried about 2 feet below. Investigators were able to get to the coffins of the two victims they did dig up in about 2 hours, while the ground was frozen. It is well within Ed's ability to have dug these graves up during the night, especially since he would dig them up shortly after they were buried.

Once arrested, Ed was sent to a state hospital and examined to determine if he was sane enough to stand trial. The doctors at the time (1957), determined he had a full IQ of 99 (below average), and a verbal IV of 106, and performance IQ of 89. A quote from one doctor stated "...Not that of a well person but one with insufficient ego, immaturity, the conflict concerning identification, and possibly the presence of illogical thought processes". (Anyone surprised based off what we've learned so far? Not me.)

The doctors also noted that he had a feminine identification, bizarre religious beliefs (again, not shocked), sexually immature with strong feelings of guilt, and a tendency to project the blame of evil on some other person.

"a very suggestible person who appears emotionally dull. Beneath that lies aggressiveness that may be expressed by inappropriate reactions that are followed by remorse and mild-mannered-ness. He is an immature person who withdraws and finds forming relationships with others difficult. He has a rather rigid moral concept which he excepts others to follow. He is suspicious of others and tends to project blame for his own inadequacies onto others. His fantasy life is immature in nature, possibly he pictures himself as a much more adequate and bigger man than he is. Sexually he is a conflicted individual and is functioning on an immature level. Guilt feelings are great and repression is put to use quite frequently in this area. In general, it appears that this is basically a schizophrenic personality with several neurotic manifestations. At this present time, he is confused and has difficulty in looking at this situation realistically."

He was also very eager to please the police, answering their questions the way he thought they wanted him to answer them. The police learned quickly they had to be very careful with how they worded the questions and not lead him in any way.

He was found to not be mentally capable of standing trial, so he was sent to a state-run hospital to live out the rest of his life. Ed Gein died of natural causes on July 26, 1984, in Mendota Metal Health Institute in Madison, WI. He was buried in the Plainfield Cemetery in Plainfield, WI.

#true crime #true crime podcast #ed gein #butcher of plainfield #spirits and demons

45 notes · View notes

liveoncoffe · 3 years ago

Text

Here a mini fic i made for the Shadow Army of @ask-riley-hunter-and-the-divines we've been building this concept for months and i want to celebrate the occasion, even if it a bit late

"Fuck run faster!" A man run through the ally way yelled back to his friend. A visible wound can be see on his left arm, blood blood flows down at he use the other to hold the wound to prevent further bloodloss. Behind him is another guy with a gun kept shooting behind his back at he run.

Both their faces is full of fear and panic, at they should be.

Revenant chuckle darkly at he watch from a distance. He warned them, he really did but do they listen? *No, they fucking don't!*. The icy obsidian eyes look down the corpse beneath the ground, it had been twisted to be unrecognizable, the spine snap like a twig and the body is now a rolls of blood flesh. Kinda like messy folded blanket... Damn he hungry now, might crash Chinatown after this, he needed some dumplings. Western foods is a disgrace anyway

"You good, bub?" He asked the Hellhound that currently coughing like crazy, it continue until he spat out several bullets. Yeah he probably fine now, but those fuckers ain't in a few minutes

"*Revenant are you there?*" A voice cut in his line of though, the demon place his hand on the device on his ear to answer

"I'm here alright, no im not in a casino. Gezz Merlin, ya need to chill down. The Witch Hunters just get always, don't worries, the Coven members are safe but Abel got a few holes in return" the Hellhound let out a growl at that sentence

"*That a relief*" Merlin sign from the other side "*But we still need to catch them, wasn't you claimed Gotham?*" yes he do remember that. Lilith dammit, Caleb. He still stressed out with the amount of crap the old ass vampire covens put on him. Those old idiots hadn't go to accept that they're now live UNDER someone else rule. Big ego for a soon-to-be dead bat! ( Hope dad didn't mind that )

"Of course i do. I literally butcher half of this city demon population just to claim this city but i guess some born without a functional pair of eyes. And im heading back, my Familiars can handle the rest. Sighing out!" Well. Dumplings here he come!

Cut of the line Revenant now decide to take care of the body, he can't let the Bats his ass now wouldn't he?

Waved his hand a portal open beneath the unfortunate bastard, shadowy hand crawling out of it and slowly pull the body down. This bitch gonna have a great time in hell for sure, said from experience here. The blood can be blame to someone else not like this city lacking murderer

Before going back to the headquarter Eli look back to his Hellhound "You know what to" he said before heading towards

Mass of black mist manifest itself forming in to a portal, he walk in and disappear leaving the demonic dog behind at it bolted after it targets. Flock of Crows is also start to take flight, Abel isn't going hunt alone

#Eli Hywel #Shadow Army

3 notes · View notes

hannigramficrecs · 4 years ago

Text

A/B/O

Alpha Mine by slashyrogue [words: 2,308]

Hannibal had always thought of his second gender as a weapon until he met Will Graham or Omega Hannibal has the hots for Will Graham who's too much of a gentleman to notice until it's too late.

Truly, Madly, Deeply by slashyrogue [words: 52,811]

They meet by chance at a Christmas Party and share a kiss that seals their fate.

Wage Your War by Della19 [words: 57,669]

A fic about omega Will Graham manipulating alpha Hannibal Lecter into getting exactly what he wants.

Arrangement by YouAreMyDesign [words: 11,185]

It's been a while since he was able to move within his house without listening to Abigail fussing, for any number of reasons. Desperation would make her hungry enough to take the occasional bottle, but he can't fight the feeling of supreme relief he feels, hearing a quiet house, knowing that his daughter will be well-fed and taken care of by such a sweet, young omega, with evident powerful maternal instincts.

Tender Loving Care by extremelyperturbed [words: 2,424]

AU in which Alphas during their Rut are as weak as Omegas in Heat. Driven by pheromones, they have only one thing on their mind and forget completely about water, food and sleep, and their Omegas have to care about them, feed them, calm them and make them rest.

Surrogacy by anon [words: 12,966]

Will is broke, unable to afford college. Instead of working multiple jobs or in something he would not appreciate, he decides to sign up at a surrogate agency. He meets the Lecter's, an alpha/alpha relationship where Alana is unable to have children, yet Hannibal wishes to carry on his lineage. They meet with Will, finding him exactly what they want in a surrogate. Only, it is not as simple as having Hannibal's child.

Railroad Track by rainbowdracul: [words: 19,942]

Will is an omega rendered undesirable by his vivid nightmares, sleepwalking, and hysteria. He's certain he's going to die a miserable spinster.Then he meets the handsome, successful Doctor Hannibal Lecter, who is instantly smitten and sweeps Will away. At first ecstatic, Will's visions slowly grow darker and focus on the serial killer known as the Chesapeake Ripper, as cracks begin to appear in his "perfect" mate.

Child Bride by IcarusFeathers [words: 4,378]

When Hannibal Lecter first met his intended, his child bride had asked rather innocently "are you my new daddy?" and he hadn't wanted to disappoint.

Tribe Mother by YouAreMyDesign [words: 19,071]

"I ask for his head and you bring me his whole body," Will murmurs. "I wonder if I should expect the same in all aspects of our life together."Hannibal smiles, not pausing from his work. "Ask me for a bite to eat and I will bring you a feast," he promises. "A river in place of a glass of water. Endless hours of pleasure when commanded to give a single kiss."

Dahlia by YouAreMyDesign [words: 12,435]

Hannibal merely stares at him, and wonders if the lamb's wool was hiding this wolf all along. "I know what you did to me. What you've done to all those omegas in the press. Butchered, childless, discarded like the trash they are."

Chesapeake Mafia by Anna_Jay [words: 21,704]

Hannibal is the leader of the mafia organization that continually evade capture from Agent Jack Crawford. However, when Jack catches wind of who the leader's mate is, he does whatever he can to take Hannibal down. Will, who is Hannibal's pregnant mate is not too keen on the idea of being used as bait.

Dissolving Like the Setting Sun by PKA [words: 3,422]

In this universe, Will doesn't suffer from encephalitis, but from a prolonged heat sickness. When he visits Hannibal with Abel Gideon in tow, things escalate.

A Keepsake by HigherMagic [words: 3,318]

As Alpha, when they'd mated, Will was legally his property, to do with as he sees fit – a set of laws Hannibal despises, and Will knows he despises, for they are equals in all things and no bite mark, no ability to knot, no ability to bear young, will change that.But the fact of the matter remains that their past was a product of Hannibal's designs. Now it's Will's turn.

Knot Me, Please by anon [words: 5,285]

Will is a young rescue omega that was saved from a mill, and Bedelia acquires him to breed and have pups with her pedigree alpha, Hannibal, once his first heat hits.

Footprints in Snow by scorpiobabylon [words: 12,509]

Hannibal is held at gunpoint by a pregnant omega in the woods. They fall in love, of course, on the omega's terms.

Marks by FireFleshAndBlood [words: 4,414]

The details of a case overwhelm Will's better judgment and he finds himself craving what he thought he never wanted.

Au Jus by canis_m [words: 2,311]

On the hunt for the Minnesota Shrike, Will goes into heat early. Good thing there's a doctor on call.

Imbalanced Perfection by Watermelonsmellinfellon [words: 7,276]

Will Graham was an Omega. However, there was something wrong internally. His instincts as an Omega were nonexistent due to an imbalance of chemicals in the body, meaning he felt no need to submit to Alphas, and disliked being ordered around. While his Heats were ever present and surely something he dealt with each year, he wasn’t considered ‘good enough’ and wasn’t wanted by anyone. Then Hannibal came along.

Shadowing by stratumgermanitivum and YouAreMyDesign [words: 12,725]

“I’m very strict with my interns,” the doctor says slowly, his eyes on Will’s, never drifting. “In fact, I had asked them not to assign me any more. Unfortunately, I was the only surgeon available to take on extra duties. My expectations for you and your behavior will be high. I have fired interns before, and while I didn’t relish the experience, I won’t hesitate to do so again.”

Sick Day by sku7314977 [words: 26,944]

Will misses his scheduled appointment and Hannibal visits Wolf Trap to see what’s keeping his favorite not-patient from visiting his office. When he comes by Will’s house expecting to find the assumed Beta curled in bed sick he’s caught off guard by the thick musk of hormones attacking his olfactory telling him of an unexpected Omega in heat.

More or Less by acheforhim [words: 6,696]

Will imprints on Lecter as soon as he meets him.

Sweet As Peaches On the Tongue by Dangereuse [words: 8,452]

Hannibal finds omega Will much younger than anyone suspected.

Feral by stratumgermanitivum [words: 2,397]

“Will,” Jack Crawford growls down the line, “Tell me Hannibal Lecter never confided in you that he was an Omega.” “Oh, shit.” “Oh, shit,” Jack agrees.

Predicaments by stratumgermanitivum [words: 3,865]

The good thing about being bonded was that eventually, your cycles synced up. Heats and ruts could still be triggered by outside circumstances, but generally, both you and your partner suffered together, instead of alone. Will had always been more or less regular, heats coming every three months, give or take a few days. Hannibal was like clockwork, a perfectly scheduled three-day weekend every three months. When they got together, they synchronized almost immediately. Will was busy, however. He didn’t always remember to track his heat- he had Hannibal for that. He didn’t realize he was late until he came home to a red-eyed Alpha growling at him from the doorway of the kitchen.

Wrong by HotMolasses [words: 4,257]

Will roughly rubbed his arm across his mouth again, trying to rub it off. Rub off the scent of Alana, after they’d kissed. After she’d kissed him. Or he’d kissed her? It was mutual. Until it wasn’t. Until Will breathed in her scent, so familiar, so Alpha, so…wrong. He’d pulled back forcibly, unable to hide the expression of revulsion on his face. “I…I need to go.” he said, sweeping his coat off the back of a chair on his way towards the door. “Lock up when you leave.” The weather was crap, and it probably wasn’t smart to drive in the snow while he was in pre-heat, but Will didn’t know what else to do. He needed to figure this out, he needed to talk to the only person who understood him. He needed to talk to Hannibal.

1 (25/25)

#hannibal fic rec #hannigram #hannibal fanfiction #hannibal #hannigram fanfiction #abo

40 notes · View notes

bcrtonarrcws · 3 years ago

Note

Meta: Claire's relationship with Barney

HELLO, HI, YOU HAVE JUST UNLOCKED AN ESSAY THAT IS PROBABLY JUST A LITTLE TOO LONG, if I do say so myself and given that I wrote it, I would say you should listen.

Anyway, the Bartons are actually my favorite comic siblings to ever exist – probably actually my two favorite comic characters ever ever. Their relationship is so dysfunctional and a little broken, yet held together by shitty guardians and a rough childhood. It’s kinda beautiful, how after everything that happened to each other, they’re still close?? Like they trust each other, tease each other, they have each other’s back?? The relationship between Clint and Barney is truly one of my favorite representations of a pair of siblings who didn’t have the easiest life, mainly because, like without the superhero nonsense, their relationship is actually very similar to my own relationship with my siblings – a severely messed up ride or die that might end with one of us killing each other.

Yet, this question is what does Barney’s and Claire’s relationship look like, not Barney’s and Clint, which despite how little it would change, does change some things. To figure out what it changes though, I’d like to head to what their relationship is like, in canon, for me. I know that the fandom has it’s own view of Barney Barton – I don’t agree with it nor particularly like it, so it’s probably best if I explain how I look at their relationship.

So Barney Barton, born Charles Bernard Barton, is the eldest of the two – no ages because this is the comics and characters can’t have canon ages ?? I guess it’ll break the suspension of disbelief but like shrugs – and he showed up in the comics in 1969, before this, he never existed. Of course this is during the age of the 60’s so most superheros didn’t really like have a life outside of the comics they were in so it’s not that big of a deal, but like still, Marvel just creates this character to be Clint’s brother, tells us he’s a racketeer that’s been on the Avenger’s radar for a while, and then kills him in the same issue, only revealing at the end that he was an undercover FBI agent.

(yeah, they gave Clint a family and then killed said family right away, sounds so similar, y’know kinda like the movie-verse which gave clint a family with very little characterization and then snapped them – no wonder I love Laura so much)

Anyway, later issues of Clint’s will explain that their parents were abusive, they died and Clint and Barney ran away from the orphanage they were in when they were like teenagers – this would be retconned to young teenagers, then implied to be younger as of the Hawkeye (2012) series, which puts Clint sleeping under the tents at age 9 (src), which could or could not imply them being their already - it’s whatever, like it’s just gonna get retconned again. Running away to the circus always puts strain on their relationship no matter what age they are though, mainly due to Clint receiving training from their mutual “father figure” Jacques DuQuesne and Barney becoming jealous; a completely and natural thing according to all child psych I’ve read, it creates an environment that allows one kid to be the “golden child” and the other to be the “scapegoat” – now of course, we don’t know much about the dynamics of their full childhood, Marvel hates sharing any information like that, but we can extrapolate a fair amount.

(also, just so everyone knows, this jealousy did not pave the way for their relationship in later comics, namely Blindspot. In that it’s very clearly stated that Barney was found by Egghead to still be slightly alive. He was then held onto, for nefarious reasons, in a healing chamber, until he was found by Baron Zemo years later who then manipulated Barney against his brother so that Baron Zemo could get his revenge against Clint Barton. I’ll say it again, Barney was used against his own brother by an evil guy who hated Clint because Clint slept with Zemo’s wife; that is where the “Cain and Abel” dynamic comes from – not childhood)

Back on the tangentially related topic I was writing about. This jealousy grows until Jacques DuQuesne leaves after Clint finds out about his illegal dealings ( though the all new hawkeye actually kinda, maybe, a little, I’m unsure, retcons this with Clint finding out about it much earlier, when he finds out about Jacques having Barney stealing from people and places and finds the hidden cache of a gun, money and some other things under Jacques’ bed??? I don’t know, I’m now a little confused if Jacques still fucks off thanks to that comic ) - of course, this is after Jacques chases Clint through the circus, cutting the high wire Clint tried to hide on. Barney tells Clint, while his brother is in the hospital (and in literally a comic that got retconned basically) that he should’ve kept his mouth shut and stuck by Jacques no matter what (can we say that that sounds like trauma?? because guess what, psych 101 says that that’s kinda sounding like trauma since Jacques was trash to these kids, like literally, fuck Jacques DuQuesne – all my friends hate him – he’s an interesting villain but fuck the whitewashing of his bullshit).

This doesn’t sour their relationship at all – no seriously, it doesn’t which uh shows that neither of them really take each other at face value anymore – and they go back to the circus, Clint heals up, starts working with Buck (a man currently being written out of the comics world which is a shame because he’s kinda important but kinda not) and then Barney decides he wants out. With Barney in the army, Clint continues down the crime street and well, now that we’ve got a bit of background (over 800 words of background), let’s get onto what their relationship is really like for Claire and Barney.

Simply put, like in the comic relationship with Clint and Barney, Barney is a protective older brother, he taught Claire how to fight and aim, how to patch up simple bruises and cuts, taught her to drink her first shot (at like age fourteen, but like what do you expect when that boy was drinking much younger???). He was her first teacher, her best teacher – yes their relationship got complicated; it’s Claire when isn’t her relationships complicated – but at the end of the day, he helped shape her into who she was.

Less simply put…

He is her everything—in all the P L A T O N I C (I’m emphasizing platonic because please don’t take this in the romantic sense, they’re fucked up but not like that; I am not Marvel, I don’t ship siblings and pretend that shit is fine.) sense of the word—he was her guardian when all the guardians around her failed to properly take care of her; he was her brother who teased her and made fun of her; he was her best friend who understood what she went through, the only other person who did; he taught her as much schooling as she would sit down and listen to, he taught her how to cook herself some basic food.

He was a father, a mother, a brother, a best friend, a moral compass – which is why when he went off to the Army, Claire found it a betrayal. She hated him for the time that he was gone, though she forgave him not long before she first shot him because she could understand that to him (the little purple box in the third panel: Carnival of Death, of course this is how Barney would remember things) the circus was never a home, just another temporary place to stay.

(btw this is “shooting barney” thing that is part of my main verse, is canon. Clint shot his brother, who was working undercover as a bodyguard, while Clint was breaking into a mansion with the aforementioned soon-to-be-retconned-I’m-sure-of-it Buck Chisholm, which led to Buck shooting Clint in the shoulder when he refused to leave his brother’s body and pinning him to a tree – I don’t quite recall how Clint got out of getting arrested, I’m pretty sure it never explained, but I’m rusty and not really up for pulling out some old comics to read up on)

(I lied, here’s the comic strip: 1. 2. Clint “somehow” managed to get free, take his brother to the hospital and then leave??? yeah sure. )

Anyway, let’s get on with it. So if that was their relationship when they were younger, what is it like now?? Now that Claire has found a place – a sturdy, yet unsteady, comfortable, yet spartan, to call her own –

( and yes, this sounds angsty, but Clint has issues accepting that he is where he wants to be – Clint is always running, even when standing completely still. It’s a trauma response to his shitty childhood where they never stayed in one place for too long; even when their parents were alive, they moved from above the family butcher shop to the Barton farm. Barney had it too, but apparently a relationship helped with that (and okay, look I love Simone and Barney, but that part in All New Hawkeye rubbed me wrong as a fellow wandering child turned rootless adult; the guy needs therapy, not just a relationship – but then again, Barney Barton does not get agency or a personality outside of Clint Barton; his life must revolve around Clint Barton, even when he was on the Dark Avengers, it was about Clint – and yeah, they’re brothers, “two sides of the same coin”, and all that jazz but like I’ve got three sisters and a brother, I’m my own person at the end of the day – something Barney Barton cannot say, which means ending his story on the note of retirement and falling in love is just the best thing so they don’t have to keep finding a reason to try to remember that Clint has a brother I’ll stop with the rant, I’m sorry.) )

where does a man who no longer has to be a father, mother, brother, best friend, and moral compass stand when his sister has all that? Well, for the most part, he stands next to her – in my main verse at least. After he has come back wrong (Buffy much?), he finds his place standing beside his sister, no longer solely protecting her from the world (as he had always done because the world is not kind to lost little girls or boys), because he’s learned that she can, for the most part, protect herself, and Claire finds herself less on a lower standing (less of a burden in her eyes, less of a child in need of comfort) with her brother, but more like an equal, something that’s a bit of a new situation for the both of them.

In truth, Claire’s relationship with Barney is complicated and messy but it’s hers, and when you have something that’s complicated and messy, you have to figure it out, and that’s what, in my canon, she’s doing. Sure Barney isn’t around a lot - he’s got his own shit to figure out - but he’s her brother, and she loves him, and he loves her and they’re trying to get to a place where they don’t accidentally poke the trauma they’ve got and ruin a good thing.

......

Okay, so like did any of this make sense??? I don’t know. I guess, to sum it up really quick, in my main verse - and most of my canon - I’d say Claire’s relationship with Barney is slightly yet not really awkward – it’s awkward because once upon a time, it was simple. Yet at the same time, it’s a really important relationship because Claire was shaped by her brother (and of course all those shitty adults because there are no good mentors in the Marvel world, not for kids at least).

Idk, this is really just me rambling. Like I should just state that tis is just Mun taking all the retcons that Marvel stuck her babies through and trying to make sense of them along with a healthy dose of a smattering of psychology shoved all about because unlike Marvel, I have no desire to ignore the C-PTSD/PTSD that seems to follow both boys around thanks to their childhood – of course this crazy amount of words actually kinda ignores all the trauma they have as adults, but that’s a whole nother post for some other day

I also know that I carry some ~controversial ~ barney barton views - ie. he’s not a villain and that him and clint share a close relationship, that he isn’t dumb muscle (bitch got a 1350 SAT score with like minimal schooling, i’d like to see you do that) and that he wasn’t a shit older brother when they were kids - i’m not apologizing for them. not at all. i will never apologize for them. characters are more than one dimensional and if i gotta be the one to wade through all this vague ass bullshit to get those other two dimensions then i’m going to do just that, which i have done.

plus it doesn’t even matter because through all the retcons clint and barney has gone through, this is what their relationship is; a fucked up dysfunctional sibling relationship gone off the rails when Barney was brought back from the dead and manipulated/brainwashed into hating his brother. it eventually got better, how? we’ve got none of that, but it did and and at the end of the day, as clint said:

#murder-popsicle #/ i am so sorry this is so long #it's over 2000 words cause i couldn't shut up #long post #general trauma tw #child abuse tw #⤗ your friendly neighborhood wine aunt : bubbles speaks ❛ ooc ❜#⤗ the past is only a story : headcanons ❛ meta ❜#⤗ i am a leaf on the queue : queue ❛ claire barton ❜#⤗ sometimes your moral compass gets fucked up a little : barney barton ❛ brother barton❜

0 notes

reapermet · 5 years ago

Text

Family - Owen Trager - Drabble

His mother had died when he was still a prospect, and the last thing he remembered was that she’d begged him not to prospect for the Sons. But he’d never listened. It had become his life as much as his job at the butcher shop, where he’d been learning the trade since he was 16 years old. It would, ultimately, come in handy with his future. Sitting in the clubhouse, he’d just earned his full colors, and the kutte somehow felt lighter now than it had before.

Looking around the room, he watched the guys, having a good time. His dad, who he’d not called dad yet, even though he’d met him when he was 14, a world away from where Owen was now. Opie with Kat in his lap, whispering things that would be lost on Owen--a married couple that one day he hoped he was as happy as, with a couple of kids and a handle on things. There was Mateo, who he’d lay down his life for, and Kenny and Abel and Tommy, who were, like himself, legacies.

That was his family, plain and simple. Everyone in that clubhouse was Owen Trager’s family, and he wouldn’t trade them for anything else in the world. Giving Ellie Wiston a smile, he winked at her: maybe one day, he’d get the courage to ask her to settle with him.

#( owen trager - i'm the bastard child of best intention )

1 note · View note

atarahderek · 7 years ago

Text

Coco head canon: If Héctor were well-remembered and the Riveras never banned music

Héctor – spent a lonely 50 years in the Land of the Dead waiting for Imelda to join him. One night a year to see his family wasn't quite enough to keep him from missing them, or wishing he could dance with his wife again. She showed up in the middle of the night, and when Héctor learned of her arrival, he let out a grito that quite literally woke the dead on his whole block. He had made several friends during his wait, and he kept up with all of them, even when some of them began to fade as they came closer to the final death. He never pushed anyone away, and ended up raising a lot of awareness for the near-forgotten using his songs and his notoriety—something that only grew exponentially when Ernesto de la Cruz was uncovered as a thief and murderer.

Imelda – upon learning that the reason her husband had never returned to her was because he had died on his attempt to return, she grieved as any widow would, trying so hard to be angry with him for leaving and getting himself killed. She had even stopped listening to music for a time, but Coco eventually convinced her to accept it again. Though she never did dance again in her lifetime. She did, however, make the best darn dance shoes in Mexico, and they were one of her zapateria's specialties. Upon her death, she was greeted by an over-enthusiastic Héctor, and her own response was to smack him so hard with her boot his head literally spun. She grabbed his skull to stop it and yanked him into a passionate kiss. What followed was the spilling of all that pent-up anger and grief, along with an assurance that she still loved her idiota. Héctor later confessed that he deserved every bit of her ire. A few days after her arrival, Imelda danced with her husband for the first time in half a century.

Oscar and Felipe – really didn't change much. They still tried to become inventors, applying most of their ideas to footwear in some way. But for all their creativity, neither of them possessed the practicality to make any of their inventions work. So they took up abstract sculpting in their spare time. They created some...interesting pieces. When their toddler grandniece tried painting one of their sculptures, they attempted to pass it off as an alebrije. The family's favorite pieces, including the one with Gloria's contribution of color, sit near their photos on the ofrenda.

Coco – became a very skilled dancer, but never pursued it as a career because Victória came along quite soon after her marriage to Júlio. She preferred to stay rooted to her mother's home and business anyway. However, she designated herself the family music teacher in her father's stead. She gained a moderate amount of skill on a few instruments, and was always a very good singer. But she didn't mind in the least whenever her descendants surpassed her musical talent. In fact, she couldn't be more proud. Especially of Miguel, the first in the family to truly inherit her papá's full musical genius. Coco never suffered full on dementia, her mind remaining mostly clear even as she approached 100. She had had her share of grief in her life, but none of it permanently impacted or prevented the many joys she also had.

Júlio – was always an okay dancer, and had a moderate voice (Coco always thought he could be quite good if he got vocal training). But he hated performing or speaking for an audience, and preferred lending his upholstery skills to the family business anyway. However, he always made a point of taking Coco dancing for their anniversary, and attempted to learn several complicated dances for her. His desire to learn new skills for Coco's sake was one of his most endearing traits as far as she was concerned.

Rosita – had an extensive collection of records. Some of them were de la Cruz records, but she took tremendous pleasure in smashing them to bits when she learned the truth about him. While she had no musical talent of her own, she loved listening to it, and was the most open minded of her generation when it came to new genres of music.

Victória – was a skilled artist and, though she was loathe to admit it, quite a talented dancer. Her work was always very technical, and she used her artistic talent to design prints for shoes and to create portraits of her family members. Like her papá, she hated the spotlight, and would always pretend she knew nothing about music or dancing in order to avoid having to engage in either in public. But Coco had caught her dancing many times in private. It was her abuelo Héctor who brought her out of her shell after her death. He used dancing as therapy to help Victória cope with the grief of leaving her mother behind to bury her.

Elena – is probably the least musical member of the Rivera family, much to Coco's chagrin. Elena always wanted to be just like Imelda, focusing her efforts on running the family business and household. And while she can't dance or play an instrument, and doesn't like to sing anything other than soft lullabies, Elena is a phenomenal cook. She is extremely reluctant to allow family members to travel outside Santa Cecilia, especially for music, fearing the same thing could happen to them that happened to her abuelo.

Franco – is an incessant whistler. He's naturally very quiet, focusing on his work, but when he's not communicating through words, he's using whistling. He grew up on a ranch, and still uses whistling to command horses and dogs. Each of his three kids had a tune designated for them. Whistling carried further than shouting their names did, and the kids knew from the tune which of them was wanted, and from the tone how urgent the command was. Franco's grandkids each have whistles to call them as well. Even Benny and Manny have unique but matching “whistle names,” as they call them; Manny's is an inversion of Benny's.

Berto – played the tuba in high school, but got bored with it as an adult. He's an avid soccer fan, and is also very dedicated to the family business. He takes after his mamá in many ways, particularly regarding musical interest. He can whistle just as well as his papá, and frequently borrows Franco's “whistle names” to call his own children. Of the blood Riveras, he's probably the worst singer.

Gloria* - like her Tia Victória, she's very shy about her musical abilities. She has two left feet, but her talent lies in song. She has a beautiful voice, but is far too shy to let it be heard beyond her family. Even her family is rarely privy to her singing. Her sisters-in-law have tried numerous times to rectify this, but all they ever succeed in doing is driving her further into her shell.

Enrique – focuses mostly on his career as a leather worker and shoemaker, but his favorite hobby is sound design. He has his own Foley studio and a digital library full of his own engineered sound effects, which he licenses to small production companies. He has tried his hand at a variety of musical instruments, but has always gotten distracted by the sound of something new, and has never kept his focus on a single instrument long enough to actually learn how to play it well. His wife has joked that she's grateful he has a wandering ear and not a wandering eye. Enrique is also a very talented poet, and collaborates regularly with Miguel to write and record new songs. He's Miguel's go-to singer when Miguel needs a tenor.

Carmen* - she's mostly just here for the shoes, but give her a ladle, some space and one of her favorite TV shows or records, and she'll put all her soul into her favorite soul music. She has an even more extensive record collection than Rosita did. She's a pretty good singer in her own right, but she has been known to butcher some of the more difficult notes and refrains. She sings while she does household chores, and is found frequently bobbing her head along to music blasting through her earbuds. The other Riveras can always tell what she's listening to, unless she's vacuuming.

Luisa – loves a soft lullaby or love song. She is somewhat shy when performing in public, but will do so gladly as long as she's performing a duet or group piece with those closest to her. She first learned to swallow her nerves and sing in public when she and Enrique went to a karaoke bar for one of their first dates. She almost never sings in public if Enrique isn't part of the song. They are quite possibly Santa Cecilia's favorite romantic duet.

Abel – sings baritone-bass, and prefers to play the accordion over singing. Like his papá, his true love is soccer. He hates being called by whistle, but automatically responds to his own whistle name without even thinking. He has lamented before about how their abuelito has the kids trained like dogs (Franco sees no problem with this). He's in the school pep band and choir, but will likely never have a solo part. He is, however, an integral part of Miguel's garage mariachi band—though he'd rather eat his own accordion and soccer cleats than put on one of those “ridiculous” charro suits.

Rosa – is the one who does get all the solos in choir. She is also first chair among the strings in her school's orchestra. She loves the violin, and is as talented with it as Miguel is with his guitar. Sometimes she'll sing along with her mamá to a record or CD, and she's a pretty good dancer. She loves to hone her skills by performing string battles with band mates or with Miguel, and the two of them typically end their battles with broken strings rather than a clear cut winner. The battles started as a way to determine which of them was to be stuck with an undesired chore, but neither of them really actually lost.

Miguel – this boy IS music. His favorite instrument is the guitar, and he is personally responsible for keeping his Papá Héctor's white skull guitar polished and preserved. He idolizes Héctor, wanting to be just like him—which has his abuelita worried that he'll run off to Mexico City and return in a pinewood box, just like Héctor did. Miguel can play a few instruments, but is an absolute wizard on the acoustic and electric guitar, as well as electric bass. He's a very good songwriter as well, even if he did have a lot of trouble learning to read sheet music when he was younger. By the time he's a teenager, he's already recording and selling albums, and by age 15 he requires an agent. It's quite clear that he will one day be the most famous of the Riveras, perhaps even surpassing Héctor.

Benny and Manny – are both quite young yet, but have already mastered the kazoo and the kitchen pot drums. They regularly make up nonsensical songs, trading off lines as they go. They sing the jingle Miguel wrote for the zapateria's radio commercials.

Socorro – dances like her namesake and sings like Imelda. Which doesn't surprise Miguel one bit. As a baby, she had the most powerful set of lungs he'd ever heard in his life. Her entire nuclear family is well aware of her potential to become a very talented, very powerful singer. Shortly after taking her first steps, she wanted to dance. Her favorite activity is dancing with her papá.

*I use the book published family tree for the names of Miguel's tias, but be aware that it may be wrong. Lee Unkrich has said that it is, and the film crew has as well. I use the name Carmen for Berto's wife because it means “song,” and in the canon film, it's doubtful Elena would name her daughter something like that.

#Coco #Pixar #Disney #Hector Rivera #Imelda #Miguel Rivera #head canon #self-indulgent #alternate universe #I have no idea where Foley-loving Enrique came from #but there it is #change of tense indicates living vs. dead Riveras

62 notes · View notes

dfroza · 3 years ago

Text

(Anew, genesis)

The phrase, “Yet once more,” means that those things that can be shaken will be removed and taken away, namely, the first creation.

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 12th chapter of the book of Hebrews:

So since we stand surrounded by all those who have gone before, an enormous cloud of witnesses, let us drop every extra weight, every sin that clings to us and slackens our pace, and let us run with endurance the long race set before us.

Now stay focused on Jesus, who designed and perfected our faith. He endured the cross and ignored the shame of that death because He focused on the joy that was set before Him; and now He is seated beside God on the throne, a place of honor.

Consider the life of the One who endured such personal attacks and hostility from sinners so that you will not grow weary or lose heart. Among you, in your striving against sin, none has resisted the pressure to the point of death, as He did.

Indeed, you seem to have forgotten the proverb directed to you as children:

My child, do not ignore the instruction that comes from the Lord,

or lose heart when He steps in to correct you;

For the Lord disciplines those He loves,

and He corrects each one He takes as His own.

Endure hardship as God’s discipline and rejoice that He is treating you as His children, for what child doesn’t experience discipline from a parent? But if you are not experiencing the correction that all true children receive, then it may be that you are not His children after all. Remember, when our human parents disciplined us, we respected them. If that was true, shouldn’t we respect and live under the correction of the Father of all spirits even more? Our parents corrected us for a time as seemed good to them, but God only corrects us to our good so that we may share in His holiness.

When punishment is happening, it never seems pleasant, only painful. Later, though, it yields the peaceful fruit called righteousness to everyone who has been trained by it. So lift up your hands that are dangling and brace your weakened knees. Make straight paths for your feet so that what is lame in you won’t be put out of joint, but will heal.

Pursue peace with everyone, and holiness, since no one will see God without it. Watch carefully that no one falls short of God’s favor, that no well of bitterness springs up to trouble you and throw many others off the path. Watch that no one becomes wicked and vile like Esau, the son of Isaac, who for a single meal sold his invaluable birthright. You know from the stories of the patriarchs that later, when he wished to claim his blessing, he was turned away. He could not reverse his action even though he shed bitter tears over it.

You have not come to the place that can be touched (as Israel did at Mount Sinai)—to a mountain crowned with blazing fire, darkness, gloom, and a windstorm— or to the blast of a trumpet and the sound of a voice—a voice and message so harsh that the people begged not to hear another word. (They could not bear the command that was given: that if even a beast touches the mountain, it must be stoned. The sight was so terrible that even Moses said, “I am trembling with fear.”)

No, instead you have come to Mount Zion, to the city of the living God, to the heavenly Jerusalem, to heavenly messengers unnumbered, to a joyful feast, to the assembly of the firstborn registered as heaven’s citizens, to God the righteous Judge of all, and to the spirits of all the righteous who have been perfected. You have come to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant between God and humanity, and to His sprinkled blood, which speaks a greater word than the blood of Abel crying out from the earth.

See that you don’t turn away from the One who is speaking; for if the ones who heard and refused the One who spoke on earth faced punishment, then how much more will we suffer if we turn away from the One speaking from heaven— the One whose voice in earlier times shook the earth now makes another promise: “Yet once more I will shake not only the earth, but also the heavens”? The phrase, “Yet once more,” means that those things that can be shaken will be removed and taken away, namely, the first creation. As a result, those things that remain cannot be shaken. Therefore, let us all be thankful that we are a part of an unshakable Kingdom and offer to God worship that pleases Him and reflects the awe and reverence we have toward Him, for He is like a fierce fire that consumes everything.

The Book of Hebrews, Chapter 12 (The Voice)

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is the 52nd and closing chapter of the book of Jeremiah that documents the Babylonian exile:

Zedekiah was 21 years old when he became king. His reign in Jerusalem lasted for a total of 11 years. His mother was Hamutal, the daughter of Jeremiah of Libnah (not the prophet of Anathoth). Zedekiah committed evil in the eyes of the Eternal, just as Jehoiakim had done. All that then happened to Jerusalem and Judah took place because of the Eternal’s anger. He finally forced them out of the land and away from His presence. It was then that Zedekiah foolishly rebelled against the king of Babylon.

King Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon brought his entire army to surround Jerusalem. On the 10th day of the 10th month, during the 9th year of Zedekiah’s reign, the mighty army of Babylon was camped outside the city and built siege mounds around it. This siege lasted 18 months, well into the 11th year of Zedekiah’s reign. By the 9th day of the 4th month of that year, the famine had become so severe inside the city that no one had anything to eat. Panic was setting in as people feared starvation. When a section of the city wall was breached, all the warriors of Jerusalem escaped through a gate between the two walls near the king’s garden. Even though the Chaldeans had the city surrounded, these warriors escaped the city under the cover of night and fled east toward the Jordan Valley. But the Chaldean army discovered this and chased after Zedekiah, catching him on the plains of Jericho. All of his soldiers had scattered, and he was alone when they captured him. They took him to the king of Babylon, who had set up his command post at Riblah in the land of Hamath. It was here that the king pronounced judgment on Zedekiah. Zedekiah was forced to watch as his own sons and the nobles of Judah were butchered in front of him in Riblah. This was the very last thing he saw, because after this Nebuchadnezzar blinded Zedekiah’s eyes. He was then placed in bronze shackles and carried off to Babylon, where he remained in prison until his death.

About a month later, on the 10th day of the 5th month, Nebuzaradan (the captain of the imperial guard and trusted advisor of the king) arrived in Jerusalem. This was during the 19th year of Nebuchadnezzar’s reign in Babylon. He systematically destroyed the important structures of the city. He set fire to the Eternal’s temple, the king’s palace, and all the houses of Jerusalem. All of the Chaldean troops that had accompanied the captain then tore down all the walls surrounding Jerusalem. The capital was now in ruins. Then Nebuzaradan, the captain of the imperial guard, gathered together those still living in the city, including some of the poor and those artisans who had not been deported earlier. He put them with the deserters who had fled to Nebuchadnezzar and forced them all into exile, far away from their homeland. But he left the remaining poor people behind to care for Judah’s vineyards and fields.

Before the Babylonian army burned the temple, they proceeded to take everything of value. They took the bronze pillars at the entrance of the temple and the stands and bronze sea that were inside the Eternal’s temple. After breaking them in pieces, the Chaldeans took the bronze back to Babylon. They also took the pans, the shovels, the snuffers, the bowls, the dishes, and every bronze utensil that was used during the temple rituals. The captain of the guard also took the various sacrificial bowls, firepans, pots, lampstands, dishes, and anything else made of gold or silver. The weight of bronze from the two pillars, the sea, the 12 bronze bulls under the sea, and the stands was so great that it could not be accurately measured. These items were very old, for they had been crafted for the temple of the Eternal in the days of King Solomon. The bronze pillars were 27 feet high and had a circumference of 18 feet; they were hollow, but the bronze walls of the pillars were about 3 inches thick. The bronze capital atop each pillar was 7½ feet high and covered with latticework and pomegranates—all made of bronze—circling the entire capital. There were 96 pomegranates on all sides of the capital, 100 total in the latticework around the top.

Nebuzaradan, the captain of the imperial guard, took Seraiah (the high priest) and Zephaniah (next in line to be high priest), along with 3 officers in charge of the gates. Of those still in the city, he took the officer in charge of the army and 7 of the king’s advisors. He also took the army commander’s secretary, who was in charge of enlisting people into the army, and 60 other men. Nebuzaradan, the captain of the imperial guard, took this entire group to the king of Babylon, whose command post was in Riblah in the land of Hamath. Nebuchadnezzar had them all beaten and killed. This is how Judah was taken from her land and sent into exile.

This, then, is the number of people Nebuchadnezzar took captive during 3 deportations: In the 7th year of his reign: 3,023 Judeans; in the 18th year of his reign: 832 citizens of Jerusalem; and in the 23rd year of his reign: 745 people were taken into exile by Nebuzaradan, captain of the imperial guard. In all 4,600 people were taken captive.

On the 25th day of the 12th month during the 37th year of the exile of Jehoiachin king of Judah, Evil-merodach, king of Babylon, ascended to the throne and showed mercy to Jehoiachin and released him from prison. Babylon’s new king was good to Jehoiachin and gave him a place of honor higher than the other nations’ exiled kings in Babylon. And so it was that Jehoiachin exchanged his prison clothes for new clothes, and for the rest of his life he dined regularly at the king’s table. The king of Babylon even gave him a daily allowance on which he lived until the day of his death.

The Book of Jeremiah, Chapter 52 (The Voice)

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for monday, October 4 of 2021 with a paired chapter from each Testament of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons that opens the True “door” to those who will go through by faith and a sacred act of grace:

Shalom friends! Last week’s Torah portion (Bereshit) showed how the mutiny of Adam and Eve caused humanity to plunge into idolatrous chaos. The subsequent generations lost sight of the LORD and became progressively steeped in moral anarchy and bloodlust, so that “every intention of the thoughts of man’s heart was only evil continually” (Gen. 6:5). After just nine generations, the LORD had grown so weary of humanity that he “regretted” (i.e., yinchem: יִּנָּחֶם) creating man and “his heart was grieved” (Gen. 6:6). However, God recognized Noach (from the godly line of Seth) as a tzaddik (צַדִּיק), a righteous man of faith, and graciously made provision to save him from the wrath to come....

Noah’s father Lamech (לֶמֶךְ, “powerful one”) regarded his son as a deliverer who would comfort humanity from the ravages of the original curse. Noach would give rest (נוּחַ) from the toil and vexation of life (Gen. 5:29). Symbolically Noah was a “type” of the Savior to come who would rebirth the world by giving lasting comfort and rest (for more on this, see "Noah and Jesus"). In like manner it was prophesied that Yeshua would give us everlasting rest: "His rest shall be glorious" (Isa. 11:10), just as He offers rest to the weary (Matt. 11:28, Heb. 4:9). His sacrifice on the Cross at Moriah undoes the kelalah (curse of work) over the children of Adam. Indeed, His life, sacrifice, and resurrection was like a "magic spell" that "spoke backwards" the sin of the "First Adam" - and by means of His deliverance the power of the curse is forever broken (see Gal. 3:13, John 3:14, 2 Tim.1:10; Heb. 2:14; Heb. 9:27-28; 1 John 3:8, Rev. 22:3). Yeshua is Adam ha-Sheni - the “Second Adam” - the promised Son of Man. By means of His Spirit we are given an everlasting comfort (John 14:16).

Eschatologically, the “days of Noah” present a picture of the idolatrous conditions of the world that will prevail just before the calling up of the followers of Yeshua before the time of Great Tribulation upon the earth: “As were the days of Noah, so will be the coming of the Son of Man�� (Matt. 24:37). The generation of the Flood was said to be "filled with violence" (Gen. 6:13) caused by ignorance -- literally the "state of ignoring" moral and spiritual truth. Because people willingly disregarded God from their midst, they arrogated to themselves divine prerogatives: "every man did what was right in his own eyes." The resulting moral corruption and anarchy led to divine and catastrophic judgment: the world returned to its primordial state of tohu va’vohu v'choshekh: "confusion and emptiness and darkness" (Gen. 1:2). Notice, however, that despite the godlessness and lawlessness that prevailed, the "days of Noah" were not marked by overt "tribulation," since people were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, until the day that Noah entered into the ark, "and they were unaware" (καὶ οὐκ ἔγνωσαν) until the flood came and swept them all away -- so will be the coming of the Son of Man (see Matt. 24:38-39). In other words, the "end of the world" judgment fell suddenly and took them by surprise...

The seven day warning given to Noah further suggests the seven year tribulation period to come (i.e., Daniel's 70th week), and also the “rapture” of the people of God who will be carried above the prophesied worldwide cataclysm. Just as God protected Israel during the time of judgment upon Egypt, so He will protect His people from the wrath of the “great Day of the LORD.” But please note that "the LORD shut him in" (Gen. 7:16). Noah's teivah (ark) had God Himself as its designer (Gen. 6:15f), just as salvation in Messiah is by God's design (Jonah 2:9; Eph. 1:9, 1:11). It contained only one door (Gen. 6:16), just as Yeshua is the only door to salvation (John 10:9; 14:6). Noah's ark contained three levels (Gen. 6:16) and salvation has three own experiential levels (2 Cor. 1:10): past, present, and future. In the past (at Moriah) Yeshua delivered us from the penalty of sin; in the present, He is delivering us from the power of sin; and in the future He will deliver us from the very presence of sin. Baruch Hashem - may that day come soon! [Hebrew for Christians]

and another about our uniqueness in Light:

God made you entirely unique, and no one else was created for the special role that you have in the overarching plan of Almighty God... Jewish tradition says that God created Adam alone as "olam malei" (עוֹלָם מָלֵא), “an entire world,” to teach that each individual is of great value and significance. "Thus anyone who sustains one individual has sustained the world; and anyone who destroys one individual has destroyed an entire world" (Sanhedrin 37a). In addition, God created man as a solitary creation to remind us that all people descend from a common source: No one has a greater or better lineage or “pedigree” than anyone else. Moreover, each of us is created with a radical sense of "aloneness," a built in "hunger" for relationship and especially for God's presence. Therefore the very first commandment to Adam and Eve comes in the form of a blessing: "And God blessed them (וַיְבָרֶךְ אֹתָם) and said, פְּרוּ וּרְבו / pe’ru ur’vu: "be fruitful and multiply" (Gen. 1:28). This teaches us that people were created to be in fellowship with others and with God, but when this is lacking, there is a profound soul hunger and need... [Hebrew for Christians]

10.3.21 • Facebook

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

October 4, 2021

The Dispensation of Grace

“If ye have heard of the dispensation of the grace of God which is given me to you-ward.” (Ephesians 3:2)

So-called “dispensationalism” has had both its advocates and opponents among Bible-believing Christians. The Greek word translated “dispensation” (oikonomia), from which we derive our English word “economy,” actually means an “economy,” or also a “stewardship.”

The number and nature of the various “dispensations” or “economies” through which the Creator has dealt with His human creation during the course of history has been the subject of considerable discussion and variation among commentators. Possible distinct dispensations might include the post-Eden economy instituted after sin and God’s curse came into the world, the post-diluvian economy established by Noah after the Flood, and the economy begun by Abraham when God began to work especially with the nation of Israel. However, none of these are actually called “dispensations” in the Scriptures, so any such listing is bound to be somewhat arbitrary.

There are two dispensations, however, specifically called such in Scripture. One is the “dispensation of the fulness of times,” when God will “gather together in one all things in Christ” (Ephesians 1:10). This will be the eternal economy of the new heavens and new earth (Revelation 21-22).

Then there is this present “dispensation of the grace of God.” We, like Paul, have been called as “stewards of the manifold grace of God” (1 Peter 4:10). So, like Paul, each of us could say that “a dispensation of the gospel is committed unto me” (1 Corinthians 9:17), and that “I am made a minister [or ‘servant’], according to the dispensation of God which is given to me” (Colossians 1:25). Thus, the dispensation of grace is a real stewardship responsibility committed to each believer. HMM

0 notes

multipleservicelisting · 4 years ago

Text

A Miami Market Where the Fish Fly

MIAMI — Customers traveling by foot or convertible will hear Plaza Seafood Market shortly after it comes into view. The rhythmic thud of long, heavy knives cracking fish spines, landing hard on a cutting board, grows louder when you reach the parking lot, provided there are no motorcycles revving nearby, drowning everything else out.

The sounds of half-shouted Spanish, car horns and crushed ice being shoveled over mutton snapper mingle with the chopping after you enter the compact, one-room market. It’s on a stretch of Miami’s Allapattah neighborhood known as Little Santo Domingo, where fish cutters have been butchering whole fish for home cooks at Plaza Seafood since the early 1990s.

Today, when so many of the city’s food businesses are hamstrung by closings and restrictions related to the coronavirus, the market is busier than ever, seven days a week, as it continues to foster community around fresh seafood. Though it’s housed in a low building, with face masks and social distance required, breezes blow through the many doors and windows, and much of the business transpires outside.

On the first Saturday of 2021, the scene at the market was a reminder that no matter where you are in Miami, the ocean is never far away. Five fish cutters worked alongside one another, gutting, scaling and filleting just-purchased seafood, from 10-inch bream to burly grouper and hog snapper longer than an adult’s arm.

They included Natalia Solarzano (above right), an eight-year veteran of the market. She accepted trays of fish and cutting instructions from customers through a corner window installed last summer, to help relieve traffic inside the market. For much of the day, Ms. Solarzano was stationed next to Alex Lima (below), their shirts flecked with fish scales.

One customer, Arnita Pace (above right), drove that morning from her home about a half-hour north of Plaza Seafood. “My sisters come here, everyone comes here,” said Ms. Pace, a Miami native. “Everything is fresh. The fishes’ eyes look good. I know I’m guaranteed to get what I want.” On this day, that included yellowtail snapper (second from top), live blue crabs and Gulf shrimp.

Ms. Pace, 57, has been shopping at the market since it first opened. Wendy Liu and Yang Zhao (above left), who followed Ms. Pace through the plastic curtain that covers Plaza’s front door, were first-time customers. They were on vacation in Miami, and found the market through an internet search.

Ms. Liu and Mr. Zhao, who were both born 30 years ago in China, put on disposable plastic gloves to browse the seafood displayed on tables along two walls inside the market. They looked forward to dinner that night at their home in Orlando: grilled lobster tails, along with shrimp and bream steamed in soy sauce and garlic.

Adrian Pitaluga (above), 21, weighed purchases on scales next to the cash register, where customers pay for their seafood before bringing it to the cutters. He said conch, mainly from Turks and Caicos and the Bahamas, is Plaza’s best seller; most of the other seafood comes from the Florida Keys or Mexico. Yellowtail (below) is the most popular finfish. “They just fly out of here,” he said.

Mr. Pitaluga’s father, John Pitaluga, bought Plaza from its original owner with his business partner, Abel Gault, in 2000. The business, which includes a small outdoor cafe, is a bare-bones version of the Cuban-American seafood market and restaurant hybrids found across the Miami area. (Garcia’s, on the Miami River, and La Camaronera, in Little Havana, are notable examples.)

Plaza’s food — fried whole fish, conch soup, seafood empanadas — is similar to what the elder Mr. Pitaluga remembers eating growing up in Havana, before his family moved to Hialeah Gardens, north of Miami, in the 1980s.

Little Santo Domingo feels far removed from the glass towers of downtown Miami, the jet-setting tourists of Miami Beach and the gated mansions of Coral Gables. The neighborhood is home to large populations of immigrants from Central America and the Dominican Republic, along with African-Americans, many displaced from elsewhere in Miami, said Robin Bachin, an associate professor of history at the University of Miami.

On the streets around Plaza Seafood, parents called after children through open windows. Mechanics fired up power tools. Tall men gathered around a short table beneath a carport, playing dominoes in the shade.

Mileyka Burgos-Flores said Plaza Seafood represents a part of the culture that is fading from the Allapattah neighborhood, which in recent years has started to gentrify. “The beauty of Allapattah is that for decades it’s been a starting spot, where you can find cheap rent to start out in Miami,” said Ms. Burgos-Flores, the executive director of the Allapattah Collaborative, CDC, a sustainable community-development organization.

Miami’s diversity is still reflected in the market’s clientele, and in the meals they create with their purchases. Carline Saintilmond (above left), who is from Haiti, bought shellfish for a seafood boil, along with red snapper and grouper. She loaded it all into the trunk of her car with her niece, Katheryne Simonis, who was visiting from Orlando.

“Haitians, the way we cook seafood is different,” said Ms. Saintilmond, 47. “We use lemon. We use salt and we use vinegar, red bell peppers, garlic, onion, green onion, parsley, hot peppers, thyme. We blend all of that together in our seafood with sour oranges, let it sit like that before frying. We like our flavor.”

Eccleston Aitcheson (above center) was visiting the market for the fourth day in a row, along with his sons, Angelo (left) and Michael (right). Mr. Aitcheson is from Jamaica and raised his family in Miami. His father, Talmon Aitcheson, died on Dec. 30, a day shy of his 97th birthday.

“We’re celebrating his life,” he said.

The Aitchesons bought king snapper and yellowtail for Jamaican escovitch, one of Talmon’s favorites. “We’ll probably come here six or seven more times,” said Angelo, whose grandfather urged his family to eat seafood in his honor. “With all this cooking, our hands are going to be blistered.”

from Multiple Service Listing https://ift.tt/3slqaQ5

#multiple #service #listing #news #local #business #ads #near #me

0 notes

mylistlife · 5 years ago

Photo

The Man with Bogart’s Face (1980) [New Beverly Cinema / January 15]

Robert Sacchi plays--get this--a man who makes himself look just like Bogie, gives himself the name Sam Marlowe, and then opens his own PI agency. And that’s before it gets weird.

Heat (1987) + Malone (1986) [New Beverly Cinema / February 26]

Burt Reynolds, whose work I devoured this year, plays two troubled figures in these pugilistic treats. In one, he kicks out a hanging light in order to set a baddie on fire (Heat), but in the other (Malone) he does genuinely over-the-top stuff.

Trapped (1949) + The File on Thelma Jordon (1950) [Egyptian Theater / March 29]

Opening night of Noir City is always a delight----hell, they serve Bogart’s estate’s booze at intermission. And it’s for that reason, and a few too many finger sandwiches and whiskey sours, that I can’t fully tell you what I enjoyed about these films beyond, you know, their noir-ness.

Sudden Fear (1952) [Egyptian Theater / March 31]

Every year at Noir City, there’s one I-didn’t-see-it-coming highlight, and this was it. Joan Crawford plays a maniacal actress placed in serious peril by her deadly lover, the even more maniacal Jack Palance. This is a Cinema of Hysteria par excellence, where it feels like Palance had his mug sculpted for extra-meanness.

Playgirl (1954) [Egyptian Theater / April 2]

If there’s a runner-up for my previous proviso, it’s this stunning firecracker that features Shelley Winters playing the ultimate woman scorned. I still think of the scene where she trashes her apartment in a drunken rage about once a week.

Eagle’s Claw (1978) + The Hot, The Cool, and the Vicious (1977) + Fists of Fury 2 (1977) [New Beverly Cinema / April 23]

A trio of martial arts films by Lee Tso-Nam, this triple sported varying styles (drunken master, battle royales, mortal combat, etc.), and, as importantly, a high quota of stunning fight sequences to relative runtime.

After the Fox (1966) + The Heartbreak Kid (1972) [New Beverly Cinema / April 28]

A duo of Neil Simon-penned films, I went 1) to see Peter Sellers in anything, and 2) to finally see The Heartbreak Kid (this shouldn’t be as difficult as it’s become). The big reveal here is that THK left me cool--in fairness, the protagonist is meant to be unpleasant, and I'm cautious about the mushrooming cult around Elaine May--while ATF, which I found to be a kind of semi-lame Italian farce, has continually grown in my estimation in retrospect. See that movie.

The Driller Killer (1979) [Egyptian Theater / May 17]

This was actually a triple feature, but as I’d seen the other two before--The New York Ripper (1982) + Nightmare (1981)--only this one fits on this list. Strange enough, it’s also the only one that deserves to! It’s supreme grime from Abel Ferrara that gives you the gross (eating a hamburger and chugging milk) and the grosser (eviscerating a rabbit corpse with an electric drill).

The Bitter Tears of Petra von Kant (1972) [New Beverly Cinema / June 6]

This was an especially bleak movie on an especially sad day for me. A remarkably human--in the worst ways (angry; callow; bitter)--film that is also a major work of art. (Added bonus, Obama’s daughter, Malia, was allegedly at our screening.)

Your Vice is a Locked Room and Only I Have the Key (1972) [USC School of Cinema / August 21]

Mean-spirited but not as vulgar or thoughtlessly cruel as many giallos. Big plus for Edwige Fenech being Edwige Fenech.

Killer Crocodile (1989) [Egyptian Theater / September 27]

I appreciate any killer animal film that is not bashful about showing off that killer beast. And I'm a sucker for Italians playing Americans (in front of and behind the camera).

Jennifer’s Body (2009) [Egyptian Theater / September 29]

Yes, it was misrepresented during its inaugural run. But, as importantly, it’s a wickedly funny and gnarly horror film.

Mooch (Goes to Hollywood) (1971) [Egyptian Theater / October 2]

It’s not every day you get to see the long-overdue theatrical premiere of a made-for-TV lark featuring the dog from Benji mixing it up with Vincent Price and Zsa Zsa Gabor’s voiceover. (Unless you live in L.A.)

Asylum (1972) [Dynasty Typewriter / October 12]

This was actually one of my least favorite horror anthologies in what proved to be a joyously fun night of them--except The Twilight Zone (1983), which I hate for reasons that are mine (and many others). Asylum gets the nod, however, because it’s the only one I hadn’t seen, and it’s a night worth remembering. Plus, I did love the little wind-up dolls packed with blood and guts because of course I did.

Ruby (1977) [Aero Theater / October 26]

Love me some Horrorthon, and the lineup this year was tremendous. Butcher, Baker, and Nightmare Maker (1982) was the gonzo highlight, but (like most of the lineup) I'd seen it before. Therefore, by default, the inferior Ruby gets the nod from me. (The other feature I’d never seen, Demonoid: Messenger of Death, 1981, I slept through too much to consider--that and the fact that what I saw was excruciatingly bad.) I also mostly slept through this one, but it had Uncle Leo (Seinfeld) as a gangster and a drive-in that only plays Attack of the 50 Foot Woman so it gets my cautiously emphatic (yes, that) recommendation.

Nightmare on Elm Street Part 2: Freddy’s Revenge (1985) + The Uninvited (1988) [New Beverly Cinema / October 30]

This celebration of the actor Clu Gulager at the New Beverly felt like old home week; he’s been a fixture at the theater for years. Yet on this particular night I found out that all the rumors of NES2 are true (it deserves its cult!) and that The Uninvited makes for just about the best neo-schlock horror film you can watch with an avid crowd.

Walking the Edge (1983) [New Beverly Cinema / November 12]

Robert Forster--another actor whose oeuvre I took a deep dive into this year--got his fair shake at the New Beverly last month, and this film may have been the (feature film) highlight. It was part of a triple with Stunts (1977), a great film I’d already seen, and Kinky Coaches and the Pom Pom Pussycats (1981), a film that features a wonderfully bonkers Forster sex scene and just about nothing else. This Bronson-esque exploitation vehicle for Forster and Nancy Kwan (!!!), however, was engrossing and quirky in all the best ways.

Banyon (1971) [New Beverly Cinema / November 25]

Since I cheated with Mooch, I'll cheat here with another made-for-TV night out at the theaters. (And how great is it that L.A. allows you to have multiple nights out watching made-for-TV movies on actual celluloid?) The pilot movie of Forster’s short-lived PI TV series was screened at the front of a celebration of Forster’s life. It was a magical night with an electric room, as the event was invite-only for his friends, family, and colleagues...and any of us who attended other Forster features that month. Banyon earned its place on this list because it was quite good for a no-fuss gumshoe movie mystery.

Nightfall (1956) [New Beverly Cinema / December 4]

Aldo Ray as the ultimate lug-sap, in a moody Tourneur grinder with a gruesome--even by our jaded modern standards--denouement. Yes.

#film #best of

0 notes

zombierunfiction · 7 years ago

Text

Season 2 Side Mission 4: Times New Roaming

The following day Charlotte had moved her stuff from the room that she shared with Jody into the small attached room inside the comms shack. Since the attack on Abel, Sam's room had been moved to the comms shack, which had a small room that held a bed, a small table and a window showing the main courtyard just after the gate. Sam had several planks of wood on the walls for clothes and toiletries for them.

For being the size of a walk in closet it was actually quite roomy.

She set up a small hand mirror by the door. Evan had found it in a run for supplies two days prior and gave it to Charlotte. There was something about the way that Evan looked at her made her leery of accepting gifts from him. When he came back after Abel had been blown up he seemed to look out for her more than just one of the other runners. She asked Janine about Evan and she told her that if something happened with him that she should tell her immediately.

"Hey." Sam said stepping into the room.

"Hey." Charlotte said smiling at him.

He looked at the mirror then looked at Charlotte. "Where'd you get that?"

"Evan gave it to me from his last run." Charlotte said crossing her arms.

Sam looked at her oddly. "What's wrong love?" He asked softly.

Charlotte took a slow breath then looked at him. "Evan's been different since Abel was blown to hell. Protective of me specificly and giving me supplies from some of his runs."

Sam tensed up slightly. "You think he may like you or have a crush on you?"

"I barely know him so I couldn't tell you but just based off what I'm feeling... it's a distinct possibility." Charlotte said looking at him. "I don't feel threatened just... uncomfortable."

"Yeah... try it on my end. But then again... you're amazing Char. You're beautiful, smart, brave, and very sexy." Sam said sounding a bit worried.

Charlotte smiles wrapping her arms around his neck. "Hey... Sam. Look at me." Sam raised his head. "Relax... I love you remember. I only want you."

Sam smiles kissing her lips quickly. "Thanks... I think I needed to hear that. Well I came to get you because well Janine wants you on a supply run."

"Slave driver." Charlotte said with a chuckle as she kissed his nose walking out of the comms shack getting all packed up. The wind had stopped blowing which allowed her to just wear a regular coat instead of the parka. "So what's going on today Sam?" She asked once she put on her headset.

"Got something nice and simple for you today. Nice, easy mission. Just a good old fashioned supply run with no complications at all." Sam said as a tall man ran over sounding out of breath.

"Hello, am I late?" The man asks looking down at Charlotte.

Charlotte raised an eyebrow seeing him wearing a headset and dressed in a white shirt with a vest and jeans. His brown hair was curly and messed up with a thick brown beard and mustashe on his face. "Uh... Sam?"

Sam sighed heavily. "Did I say no complications? i mean one. One complication."

The man saluted to her happily. "Ian Golightly, reporting for duty! Get it?"

"Yeah... we get it." Charlotte said slowly.

"Five, Ian here's a reporter with the New Times. It's a Rofflenet news... uh, thingy. The Major's agreed to let him tag along on your run today for some kind of piece he's doing. Sort of a 'day in the life of a runner' thing." Sam explained.

"Wait a second." Ian said suddenly looking rather annoyed. "'some sort of news thing'? The New Times is the region's premier Rofflenet news site, reporting seven days a week - so long as the generator holds - bringing our considerable subscriber base up-to-date news and all the information critical for daily survival!" He said his hard irish accent seeming to almost slur together.

"Brave stories of cat rescues, and photos of the face of Jesus appearing in tinned meat." Sam said making Charlotte chuckle.

"So you're a reader, then?" Ian countered with a grin.

"Yeah, yeah, I browed it, once or twice." Sam contested.

"You still have it open on your other screen, Mr. Yao." Janine said making Sam jump gasping.

"Janine! Thanks so much for sneaking - stopping by. Someone got a photo of zombie Jamie Oliver roaming the crisps aisle at a supermarket down south." Sam laughs softly. "It's pretty great, eh? It wasn't even Sainsbury's."

"Sorry, I didn't get your name. Number Four, was it?" Ian asked as Charlotte gave him a flat look.

"The names Charlotte and I'm Runner Five." She said.

"Charlotte is one of our best runners here at Abel Township. You'll be in good hands today." Janine said confidently.

"What are you even doing here? My magnetic personality too much for you?" Sam asked.

"The Major's asked me to sit in on the run, so Mr. Golightly doesn't get the wrong impression of what we do here at Abel." Janine explained.

"Wait. What, ar eyou implying that I would-" Sam starts before Janine interrupts.

"Runner Five, we're sending you back to Possum Place today. We're running short of batteries again, and it's possible those hobby shops will still have some of their stock left. Mr. Golightly, Runner Five knows the route. Just follow along, and do try to stay close. should you become lost, and run into any zombie trouble, I'm afraid we don't have the manpower to retrieve you."

"And I'm the one who's going to give a bad impression." Sam said softly. "Alright, raise the gates!"

Soon Charlotte and Ian had made there way just short of the shopping area as Ian chuckled. "Wow, you're fast. I see why they chose you for this."

"Thank you Mr. Golightly." Charlotte said.

"Please call me Ian." He said trying to sound charming.

"She's take Mr. Golightly." Janine said.

"Oh. My apologies." Ian replied.

"You doing alright?" Sam said changing the subject.

"Not my first run in the line of duty. We don't just wait for the news to come to us at the New Times. These days, it's all about chasing down the action!" Ian said confidently.

"Yeah, well, let's hope no one's chasing anything today. Except you chasing down those batteries, right, Five?" Sam asked.

"Right." Charlotte answered.

"So far, your way's looking pretty good. This whole area's been pretty quiet lately. Might get through this whole outing without-" Sam stops before catching himself. "nah, wait, sorry. Caught myself. not jinxing anything. No tempting of fate. Just keep following the high street, and things will uh, happen as they happen." Sam said as Charlotte laughed softly.

Ian reaches into his pocket and pulls out a silver tape recorder clicking it on. "We run through the silent streets, no sounds but our own breathing and our shoes on the pavement. Empty spaces where shop windows used to be watch us pass like unseeing eyes, glass smashed and wares spilling out. A TV lying dead on the ground here, a rack of women's dresses fluttering ragged there."

Charlotte looks at him oddly. "What are you doing?"

"Taking notes." Ian said seriously.

"Do you have to do it so... out loud?" Sam asks softly.

"You ever tried running with a notebook? We do everything on tape recorder these days. While I've got it turned on, mind telling me what your job in all this is?" Ian asks.

"You, uh, want to interview me?" Sam asked obviously surprised.

"Mr. Yao is responsible for monitoring our scanners and camera networks in the area and alerting runners to any obstacles they may need to overcome in the course of a mission. Zombies, of course, but also road blocks or potentially hostile parties from other settlements." Janine said sounding more confident than she normally does with Sam.

Ian grins happily. "Ah, yes, I heard about that! Some tussle with another settlement, only recently resolved?" He probbed. "Tempers still running high? Perhaps you'd like to give me a quote."

"No I don't think so." Janine said tensely.

"Well, the important thing to know is I'm, um... Operators are really important. Without us, you could run into anything out there. You could be going along great, getting all kinds of supplies, and then turn a corner and-" Sam went on before Charlotte spoke up.

"Sam..."

"Yes?" Sam questions.

"I think I hear something." Charlotte said taking off one side of her headset.

"Oh, uh, oh damn! I need you both to pick up the pace now." Sam said fast.

Ian looked around quickly. "Is that noise what I think it is?" He asked sounding somewhat paniced.

Charlotte and Ian sped up as Sam continued. "Got a whole bunch of zoms headed at you from the north. Ah, and south. And east. Go west, guys, go!"

Charlotte turned pulling Ian westward as the zombies followed after them. "Runner Five sprints down the street ahead of me, as the zombie moans growl louder in our ears, their wordless cries pressing in on us from all sides!" Ian said into his tape recorder. He looked back at the group following them. "I can make ou the slow, shambling figures, cheekbones, tongues lolling from their mouths like-"

"Would you stop that?!" Charlotte snaps back at him.

"Five, I don't know where they're all coming from, but the area's filling up with zombies fast. We've got to get you out of there! Uh, I think, if you take a left at the butcher's - no, no, that won't work - maybe a right at the florist? What, Janine?" Sam said panicing.

"There's an alleyway running parallel to the main street, and it looks to be clear. If Runner Five and Mr. Golightly take that, they might be able to double back on themselves and come out behind the worst of the swarm." Janine said quickly.

"Great, perfect! Janine you're amazing. Uh... where do they turn in?" Sam asked.

"If it's the alley I think she meant we passed it half a block back." Charlotte said.

Sam growled softly. "Oh God! Five, there are more zoms moving up the side streets. If we don't do this, you'll be cut off, surrounded. I really hate to say this, but I need you to run back towards the zombies. There should be an alley mouth on your-"

"On your left!" Janine said loudly.

"-on your left, yeah. Just make for it as fast as you can, okay?" Sam continued.

"Right." Charlotte skidded to a stop then caught Ian's arm and pulled him back the way they came towards the zombies who were shambling towards them.

"And keep going! The zoms are getting close but you should still have half a block between you and them. They shouldn't be able to reach you. Hopefully. We'll get you out of this, guys, but you have to move, now." Sam said fast.

"Got it." Charlotte said as they ran fast towards the alley where they hung that left racing down the alley.

Once down the alley, they headed back on course as Ian panted heavily. "Did we lose them?"

Sam hummed slightly. "Mostly."

"Wait, what do you mean, 'mostly'?" Ian asked quickly.

"A few of the main pack followed you down the alley. You're outpacing them fine, guys, just keep moving like that, and we'll have you clear and back on track in no time. Nothing to worry about." Sam said as Charlotte looked ahead and paled.

"Sam..." Charlotte said slowly.

"What?" Sam said.

"We're heading for a dead end!" Charlotte said fast.

"No! No, no, no this is not even funny! We must have miscalculated your route. This road leads to a block wall about hundred paces in front of you." Sam said fast as Charlotte looked back seeing that the shamblers were still a bit from them but coming up fast.

Charlotte and Ian stopped looking at the wall as Ian whimpered slightly. "We're trapped! Yeah, yeah, we are. We can see it. High-rise apartment, by the look of it. Four stories of slick concrete, not a handhold in sight, even if it weren't so high to climb. Blocking our escape from the horse of hungry hellspawn bearing down on us, arms outstretched, dinner scent! Staring at Runner Five and I like the slabs of meat we must appear to be in their undead eyes! If zombies could still-"

"NOT NOW!" Charlotte, Sam, and Janine all shouted at him as Ian shrunk back slightly.

"Sorry. Nervous tic." Ian said softly as Charlotte looked around seeing several back doors into the buildings.

"It's fine! It's fine! We have a plan. Five, I want you to start checking doors. Someone must have forgotten to lock up the exits properly in the intial panic. If we can get you inside one of these buildings, it's going to be fine!" Sam said as Charlotte ran to a door on their right and checked the handle finding it locked.

"Locked." Charlotte said checking another. "Locked again..."

"What about that one on the left the big metal double doors." Sam said as Charlotte ran over and tried the door finding it unlocked but it felt blocked. She threw her shoulder into it a few times before breaking through into the store.

"I'm in. Ian!" Charlotte shouted as Ian ran in with her as they shut the door blocking it up again. "Alright we're inside and we blocked up the door." She said panting hard as she reached into her bag looking for a flash light.

"What do you see in there?" Sam asked.

"No embellishments, please, Mr. Golightly." Janine said.

"It's pretty dark in here. I can't see much of anything." Ian said as he started to walk around. "Charlotte, you still in here with me?" He asked as he bumpped into her making her gasp.

"Yes and you just stepped on my foot." Charlotte said groaning.

"Sorry, didn't mean to step on you." Ian said as Charlotte pulled out a flash light shining it around.

"Looks like we're in the back of some kind of shop." Charlotte said looking around at the boxes and bins that were tossed around.

"Looks like there's another door up ahead." Ian said walking over opening the door slowly.

"Nothing's coming up on our scanners yet. The building looks clear. You guys can keep going straight ahead." Sam said as Charlotte followed Ian as he chuckled.

"Ah, well, what do you know? That's funny, isn't it?" Ian said.

"Uh, funny in a goodway, or-?" Sam questions.

"Janine, what was it we were heading to find this mission again?" Charlotte asked as they stepped into the store.

"There's a model train store in Possum Place. We'd hoped to send you and Mr. Golightly to look for batteries and any other electronics worth salvaging." Janine answers.

Ian smirks. "Would an electronics store do the trick just as well?"

"... I do believe that would be adequate, yes." Janine said slowly.

"In that case, I think we've ended up in the right place." Ian said as they started picking up a few things.

"Runner Five, look for any small electronix you can carry. Laptop computers, charging stations, remote controls. We'll leave the batteries up to you, Mr. Golightly. Do it quickly, though." Janine said sounding rather annoyed suddenly. "I believe from the way Mr. Yao is flailing at me just now, he's worried some of the remaining zombies could cut off your route of escape if we give them enough time. It would be a shame if all that effort went to waste."

Sam sighed heavily. "Again, I'm the one who's going to make a bad impression?"

"Oh yes." Janine said slightly before speaking in what sounded like she was forcing kindness. "Good work, you two! Keep it up!"

Charlotte shook her head as she grabbed a few laptops, some harddrives, and a few other pieces while Ian picked up as many batteries as he could get. She started putting some other stuff into Ian's bag before heading to the main doors. She used her axe to take off the boards that had been put up. "Alright we're done in here how does it look?" Charlotte asked.

"Looks like most of the zoms in the area have lost interest. Come out through the front doors and head down Farrington Avenue. It's the street right ahead of you. You can follow it all the way out of the city." Sam said as they quickly ran out of the shop and headed down the street.

"That was awesome!" Ian said jumpping happily.

"Yeah, well, we do what we can around here." Sam laughed softly.

"A death-defying encounter with zombies! Running in the face of death! Our readers are going to eat this up!" Ian said dramaticly. "Charlotte, you were amazing!" He said hugging Charlotte who laughed softly. "We should do this again! We could do a series! 'The continuing adventures of Abel Township's best and fastest, facing death at every turn with nothing more than running shoes and a rucksack!' Oh, if they still had journalism awards!"

"Well, you were so bad yourself out there, Ian. Haven't you ever thought about giving up the recorder and doing something useful? I mean, uh... Janine what's the word I'm looking for that isn't insulting?" Sam asked slowly.

"Our runner numbers are lower than we'd prefer, Mr. Golightly. If you were interested in staying on, I could speak to the Major about it." Janine said.

"Thanks. I think. But I'm happy with the Times. You may not see it this way, but your story's going to bring hope to a lot of scared people out there." Ian said with a smile. "I know that cat rescues and zombie celebs aren't everyone's cup of tea, but reminding people that we're all still surviving, that people can work together and keep going, keep being brave, even at a time liek this - it's worth something to a lot of us." Ian said with a smile as they left the city behind.

"Yeah, I never... I mean, when you put it like that..." Sam said softly.

"Do you mind if I talk a bit more? I still got some notes I'd like to make." Ian asked looking at Charlotte.

"Go for it." Charlotte said as Ian pulled back out his recorder.

"And so, Runner Five and I make our way out of the city with heads held high and purpose in our strides, zombie groans just a fain murmur on the afternoon breeze. Our packs bulge with the spoils of a run successfully completed, and in the distance, Abel Township rises before us like a beacon - a beacon of hope. Of humanity in these troubled times. Will this tiny township survive against the increasing odds and dangers of our brave new post-apocalyptic world? Only time will tell. But today, we're headed home." Ian said as they continued to run towards Abel. Once inside Ian headed back to where the Times was based in.

Charlotte got checked for any bites before rejoining Sam in the comms shack. He was leading Jody and Simon on a meds run. She sat down beside him watching him. Sam alwas had a large set of head phones for anyone working on missions. He looked like a DJ. She looked up seeing a clip board on the wall with some writing on it. She took it down and looked it over seeing the runners desinations and the particular runs they would be going on.

She raised an eyebrow as she looked at the date December 9th.

New Canton/Abel Summit. ALL RUNNERS.

She had heard about the upper people getting together at New Canton to work on peaceful negotiations. She put the clipboard back up on the wall before watching Sam work with a smile of pride on her face.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

< 41 >

Season 1 Beginning

Season 2 Beginning

#zombie #zombies run #zombie run #ZombieRun #zombiesrun #run #runner 5 #runner five #runner5 #runnerfive #fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic

2 notes · View notes

hhemeraa-a · 7 years ago

Note

15/38/60!

Munday Funday

15) do you like or dislike oc/canon character interactions in principle?

I don’t care tbh lol that seems like such a bizarre?? thing to dislike?? like??? Are you telling me because I’m not a canon character that I can’t bring something new to the table? Y’all just gonna RP the same shit over and over again with the same canon muses? bruh

Now I get that a lot of people are iffy about OCs because they can be poorly made or just self inserts in disguise which can make a lot of people uncomfortable, but [and I’m only using this as an example] if everyone only played Voltron characters, you’re trapping yourself with like 8 core people and what if I dont wanna RP fuckin’... another Shiro or another Pidge that everyone is gonna be mad at because they have some different head canon for her -- like have you seen that mess with people fighting over if Pidge is trans? Y’all are allowed to have different HCs, you know this right? And y’all can still have lots of fun regardless right???????

POINT IS -- it would be silly to pigeonhole yourself to _only_ canon characters or _only_ OCs. You’re cutting off so many amazing writers.

38) has a roleplayer ever changed your view on a character? if so, how? good or bad? for better or for worse?

Yes and it was bad. Someone ruined my favorite muse... I love him so much but every time I think of him, I just remember the horror that were my initial interactions. It just... Someone RP’d as my favorite character and after we were RPing for about 2 months maybe, they had turned into a self insert and the mun of the blog actually fell in love with my muse. It got really dark and bizarre and I sort of slow faded and she left the fandom at the time, but I could never look at the muse again without remembering how butchered they had made him after a while.

I tried making a blog for him (it’s a side blog, still have it!) but I can barely look at it. It’s an amazing aesthetic blog (if I say so myself) but I can’t RP on him at all because it just tastes bitter and gross.

60) who’s a roleplayer (or writer) you think you have learned a lot from?

SHE’S NOT AROUND ANYMORE IN THE RP COMMUNITY BUT @sheikofthesheikah USED TO BE A HUGE INSPIRATION FOR ME WITH HER ABEL/PORTHOS BLOG AND SHE DESERVES A SHOUT OUT.

BUT to all my active and current partners: @rosaceaes / @etlascivus / @carnivorarium / @portalipsis / @catastrophicur / @celestialspitfire because y’all got some fancy writing and I feel so privileged to be able to write with y’all. I don’t feel anywhere near good enough but!!! Imma keep trying. ;;w;;

#paxeuropaea

8 notes · View notes

vintage-mocha · 7 years ago

Text

Scholars

A connverse fluff/slow-burn fic.

Steven's in his second year of college, at Empire City University, and in the local coffee shop, comes across a girl by the name of Connie.

Also on Fanfiction.net

Overall Rated: T (Mild language, nsfw jokes/mention, nudity)

Note: There’s a lot of small details about this “coffeeshop au”. First note is Steven is still a gem in this! Although he attended regular schooling (moderated by the Crystal Gems) so he had a frame of reference, and aged “normally” alongside his classmates as he went through school. In addition to school, the Gems taught him everything they knew. Pearl taught him how to use his mother’s sword, her shield, all that. His first fusion was with Amethyst, not Connie (he’s in college in this fic, and it’s their first-time meeting). The reason I used coffeeshop au in quotations is it kinda strays out of the coffee shop as time goes on. In this fic, Steven is in his sophomore year of college at age 20 (he took a break year). Meanwhile Connie is a sophomore in College at age 19.

2nd Note: Huge thank you to @Abel-Quartz for beta reading and helping make this chapter into what it is!

Steven rubbed the sleep out of his eyes with his free hand as he lumbered towards the doorway to the coffee shop near his dorm room. Ducking slightly to avoid the top of the doorway, he combed his hair back with his left hand to keep the curly mane out of his eyes.

His hands fished in his pockets, reaching for a hair tie. All he found was a couple dollar bills, some coins, a packet of gum, and the rubbery texture of an eraser. Steven bit his lip to keep from cursing, and attempted to control the kinky mess with both hands, enjoying a brief moment of clarity before the jungle obscured his reddened eyes once again.

Why did I agree to go on the “short” gem mission yesterday? I barely got 2 hours of sleep, he thought to himself, ordering his usual—large mocha, no whip. He moved to the nearest table and sat down, legs bent out slightly to avoid tilting the table with his knees.

With a yawn and a stretch, he leaned back in his seat and pulled out his phone, checking for any assignments that might have escaped his watchful eye. There were the usual sounds of the coffee machines, buzzes, whirrs, and occasional screeches from the old timey machinery. The place seemed to have one foot in the past, and one in the future. There were old paintings on one wall, and T.V. screens showing the news on the next. Faded green paint filled the walls, and wooden floor that creaked with the slightest movement. Eggshell white crown molding worked its way around the room, curving along the walls and riding the corner between the ceiling and the wall. Next to the cash register, there was a bright silvery frame that held glass in place, displaying every food that the coffee shop had to offer. Muffins, cookies, cakes, toasts, waters, juices, coffee beans, it was a wonder that the smells in the container didn’t seep through the glass. While the front of the store was entirely of glass, it was early, and in the last breaths of summer; dim sunlight poured into the room, bathing the milky white tables in golden color. The cursive letter art reading “Empire Espresso Coffee,” the brown letters blocking sunlight from passing behind them. The barista leaned back into the counter for a moment, giving an exasperated sigh.

As Steven’s arms laid down on the table, phone in hand, he glanced above the little screen to see a girl about his age. She rummaged through her bag worriedly, squinting as she pulled a glasses case out, breathing a sigh of relief.

She wore slightly torn skinny jeans that revealed sepia skin underneath. A baggy hoodie several sizes too large hid her arms almost to the fingertips, and a beanie concealed much of her dark brown hair and held it out of her eyes. The girl prodded her glasses into place with a fingertip, nudging the frames up and down, side to side until the light refracted on the lenses, hiding her eyes from the world.

“Large mocha for Steven?” the barista called.

He hadn’t realized he was staring, and chastised himself–how many times had Pearl told him staring was rude?

Steven looked away from the girl to the barista holding the large cup. He got up and strode over quickly, grabbing the cup and raising to his lips to take a sip. The barista deadpanned at Steven’s gratification, and simply turned away and brushed coffee grounds off of his charcoal apron. Steven walked back to his seat and plopped himself down, the chair creaking under his weight as he adjusted.

Quickly, he raised his phone to the table once again, and began hurriedly texting friends for advice, but to no response. After waiting for what seemed like hours, the barista called the next name.

“Tall latte for…Cone-knee?” the barista called, staring at the scrawled writing on the cup.

The girl rolled her eyes and gave an exasperated sigh, walking up to get her latte. She received her coffee in a hurry, giving a shy nod and a quiet thank you, then sat down at the table next to Steven, and pulled a laptop out of her bag and began to type.

Steven sat frozen, unsure of what to say–or whether he should even talk at all. Thoughts raced through his head, his heart pounding a mile a minute. He wasn’t even entirely sure if this is what romance felt like–if it was, what did he do? Act on impulse? Out of the question! Where would he even start? Was he too big? Did that make him look scary? He slumped in his seat, but then what if that made him seem shallow? Was he even sure about what he thought of her? What’d she think of him? How would he–

“Uh...hello? Your foot is on my shoe…”

He felt something shimmy out from under his sandal.

“Oh! I–so sorry, um...hi–I’m Steven. Uhh, the barista uh–really butchered your name, didn’t he. Cone-knee, am I right?” He reached out his hand and forced a laugh.

That was…horrible. To his surprise, she gave a shy smile, reaching out her hand, mostly hidden by the sleeve of her mint-green hoodie, and gave his hand a tentative shake.

“It’s pronounced Connie, but with how many people pronounce it wrong, I might as well change it..” she responded quietly, tilting her head and giving a polite smile. Steven grinned involuntarily, shocked at how warm his face felt at the simple gesture of kindness. Her shoulders hunched, as if she was trying to make herself smaller. She turned her face away towards her laptop and long black hair fell away from her ear. Steven noticed several piercings along the her ear; two studs of black-gray metal, and a thin rod of steel going in a diagonal line along the outside of her ear.

Steven felt himself blush as he laughed at her joke, nerves making his hair stand on end. Incomplete thoughts bubbled under the barrier of his lips as he muddled through what he could say, beginnings without endings, jokes without punchlines, answers without questions. In a rush, words spilled out of his mouth without purpose.

“So…what have you–er, what’re you studying here?” Steven asked, leaning his elbow on the table. He fidgeted with a lock of hair between his thumb and index finger.

“Oh, I’m here for la—“

The table underneath Steven’s elbow tilted under his weight, and he slipped out of his chair, crashing to the ground on his side, the table falling right beside him. His coffee cascaded down to the ground, spilling all over him, and the ground. People around the shop quickly turned towards him, staring at the giant of a man twisting on the ground as he sat up, staring at the coffee stain all over the front of his shirt.

“Steven! Are you okay?” Connie asked worriedly.

“Y-yeah—it’s more comfortable down here, anyways,” Steven laughed, hastily getting up, then stumbling for a moment from the coffee all over the ground.

“I’ll help you out a bit, are you alright with that?” Connie asked as she raised from her seat slowly, and took half a step around the table.

“Yes, th-thank you.”

Both the students knelt on the ground, wiping up the spilt coffee.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch what you said you were studying, because of the…table malfunction.” Steven said nervously, spreading napkins all over the bamboo flooring.

“Law, you?” Connie responded, giving a slight grin at Steven’s terminology for the accident.

Steven was staring at the floor as he cleaned, hands dropping napkins over where the mocha had spread along the ground, then bundling them in a cautious grip to bring them to the trash. Instinctively, his arm moved to push hair out of his eyes, but he stopped when he remembered the sticky bittersweet drink covering his hand and sleeve; he resorted to blowing his hair out of his eyes, then tilted his face up to look at Connie to answer the question.

“Astronomy, you?”

Steven returned to cleaning the coffee immediately, continuing to spread around the napkins. There was a brief moment of silence between the students–neither of the students realized the error at first. Steven’s movements came to a halt, and blush washed over his face.

“N-never mind, I already asked that.”

Connie gave a slight giggle. “It’s okay, I do stuff like that too.”

She adjusted her glasses slightly, the light refracting and highlighting the flecks of hazelnut-gold color amidst her dark brown eyes. Steven couldn’t help but stare or a moment, it was like stargazing to him.

“That kinda surprises me, though–most people are here for the law program.” She said.

“I’ve always had more interest in what’s up there than down here in a book, honestly. I’ve...always loved stargazing. P-probably something to do with my last name..” He exclaimed with a point towards the ceiling, then toward the ground beneath him.

“And what would that be..?”

“Universe, I know, I know–it sounds fake, but it’s my actual last name, I swear.”

Steven raised his hands jokingly, although he couldn’t help but smirk as he realized there were things much harder to believe about him than a weird last name. For just a moment, before he busied his hands cleaning the floor again, Steven’s eyes lingered on Connie.

“Why does that name sound familiar…?” Connie mumbled, gazing off towards the tiles by her hand.

“Last year, I won nationals wrestling for the school–you might’ve read it in the campus newspaper, or the yearbook or something.”

“Did you get a scholarship for it?”

“Yeah...it’s a bit hectic juggling studying with the practice schedule, though.”

They both gathered the coffee-scented napkins in their hands, cringing at the stickiness, and rose to walk them to the garbage.

“I bet it would be...I’m on a scholarship, too–well, a partial one. And for nothing nearly as impressive.”

Steven reached for a few more napkins, and raised his shirt a bit to wipe it off, revealing the colorful gem where his naval would be, and the treasure trail going along his stomach underneath.

“What for?” he asked, pulling his shirt taut with one hand, then scrubbing with a napkin, to no avail. He tossed the napkin into the trash as he gave up on cleaning the coffee stain on his shirt.

“Academics…”

Connie trailed off as she noticed the pink glint of Steven’s gem, but before she could ask, his shirt was lowered over it again. She assumed she had been seeing things.

“You gotta teach me some study habits, I’m barely keeping my grades up as is.”

Steven and Connie shared a light laugh, and Connie turned partially away, looking at the napkin container.

“Ah...I’m pretty sure you got better things to do.”

“Not much, actually.”

Connie’s eyes widened in surprise a little bit, and she looked up at Steven. Their eyes met as they looked up from the napkin container, hands slowing to a halt as both students shifted to mimic the other, falling into a sort of rhythm.

“W-we should...probably finish cleaning the coffee…” Connie broke the pattern with a mutter and a look away.

Her voice was barely audible over the sounds of machinery, making caffeinated concoctions of every kind. They both walked back to continue cleaning. Neither noticed the other’s blushing.

Both their heads raised as phone notifications danced in their ears. The simple songs jingled simultaneously, and both of the students hurriedly cleaned the last of the spilt coffee.

“I gotta go to class,” they said in unison.

Both students paused for a moment after, realizing what had just happened. Steven stood, a bit shocked with himself. He didn’t expect things to go so horribly–yet work out so perfectly. He pondered if she was feeling the same way–or if not, something similar, at the least. They both gave an awkward smile, and walked quickly to the door.

“After you?” Steven said, holding the door for Connie.

“Uhh...yeah, thanks.”

Steven tilted his head, admiring the girl in front of him for a breath. He raised a hand to avoid looking aimless in looking, but only achieved an awkward half-wave.

“It was nice meeting you.” Steven said.

“Y-you too!” Connie said a little too abruptly, and waved back.

Steven stood still for a moment, gazing as the girl shouldered her bag, textbooks rubbing against each other as the sack moved around. She brushed her hair out of her face, tucking it neatly into her beanie, then pulled the beanie down on her head slightly.

She seemed almost calm, comfortable. At ease...did he do it right? Does she like him back? As a friend, or as something else? Or was all this wrong and she was just tolerating him..

Connie turned away, walking with her bag pulled close over her shoulder, arms tucked close to take up as little space as possible. She walked quickly, with purpose–to get somewhere, without being seen. But Steven noticed what he thought was a skip in her step. He gave a wide grin and spun on his heel.

He silently thanked his lucky stars that the coffee spilled–if he drank the coffee and had that encounter, he’d be bouncing off the walls for days. Steven blew a couple stray locks of hair out of his eyes, and walked towards his class.

Steven laid in his bed, unable to fall asleep. Situations ran rampant in his mind–what’d he say the next day? Would he even see her again? How did he forget to get a clean shirt? Thoughts buzzed in his head. He hadn’t even payed attention in class–not that he had wanted to. His head was high in the clouds–hell, he had to stop himself from floating down the stairs to his dorm. A flash and a clang sounded as the young man summoned his shield, tossing it up above him and catching it while he laid.

He dissipated his shield, and with his hands reached up over his face, he couldn’t help but squeal.

Steven’s roommate, Nicki–and best friend since his freshman year of highschool, turned towards him. Confusion played on her face for a moment, and he noticed her lips shift to the side as she chewed the inside of her cheek. Brow furrowed in thought, she laid on her side, staring at the cloth of a glove on her hand. Her face brightened and she sat up as realization struck like a match.

“So who is it?”

“Her name’s Connie, she’s...amazing. I barely talked to her, but she...she’s kind, and smart, and beautiful, and–” Steven stopped himself, and pushed his face into a pillow, giving another loud squeal.

Nicki gave an incredulous look. He was just as surprised as she was. Him? Talking to a crush? The only person he could comfortably talk to without a bit of nerves was Nicki. She was a sibling to him.

“And how’d talking with a big ball’a nerves like you go?” she asked with a sly grin.

“I–I uh..tipped a table leaning into it. My coffee spilled everywhere–” Steven pointed towards the brown stain “–and we talked as she helped me clean it up.”

“I bet your gem glowed.”

“It did not–at least I...don’t think it did.”

Steven slipped his shirt off over his head, inspecting the medium-sized rose quartz stone inside his body. The mechanics of however the gemstone worked still confused him to this day, and while he’d learned to control it with the Crystal Gems, but there were still times where his gem had a mind of its own.

“You think I’d have a shot with her?” Nicki asked jokingly.

Steven gave a sarcastic look, and laughed.

“You would never.”

“Don’t test me.”

Steven gave a low laugh, and tilted his head. Steadily his giddy demeanor faded, and he laid back, eyelids heavy and hands under his head, hidden by the long locks of curly hair. As the adrenaline of the day faded, soreness from wrestling practice and the gem mission leapt to the forefront. He shifted in his bed with a low groan.

“In all seriousness, though–you talk about having a shot with her...but I’m not even sure I have a shot with her.”

“Steven–do you have any idea how many girls had crushes on you in highschool?”

“Still.”

Both the students laid in silence for some moments, thoughts buzzing through their heads. Before Nicki could think of anything else to say, quiet snoring came from Steven’s bed. She sighed, a bit annoyed–she had been hoping to get more details out of him.

The room fell into a rhythm, Nicki’s breaths slowing as she fell asleep as well. Creaks were heard overhead as students in other dorms walked around the building, and a couple unnerving thuds from neighboring rooms. Though through it all, students continued to sleep–not quite peacefully, too much stress from school for that. But sleeping nonetheless. Nicki’s framed photos with friends, family, and pets. Steven had loved playing with her dog Molly, and the “playdates” he arranged between her and Lion made the two animals become fast friends. Her bedsheets were a mess, half the blanket hanging off of the mattress as Nicki slept. Her arms were wrapped around a pillow, her face buried in the softness.

On the other side of the room, there were photos of Garnet, Pearl, Amethyst, and his Dad. Along with Rose’s Sword hanging on the wall, disguised as part of an eccentric samurai sword set. The only person who knew it wasn’t plastic was Nicki. His left leg hung off the foot of his bed, his foot in the air, right bent slightly, foot resting up against the calf of his left leg. His right hand laid on his chest, fingers covering the body hair, sticky from the mocha-covered shirt. His left still laid beside his head, hidden in the swirling mess of hair.

#steven universe #connverse #connverse fic #my son #connie maheswaran #college au #coffee shop au #steb writing #writers on tumblr

39 notes · View notes