#yes i have had these wc written 4 a week and just took this long bc i wanted a graphic what about it. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

justsomerandomfanfic · 2 years ago

Text

An Apple A Day - (Doctor) Eddie Munson X GN Reader - November 26th

Title: An Apple A Day

(Doctor) Eddie Munson X Gn Reader

Additional Characters: The gang back in Hawkins (Mentioned), Reader's mother (Mentioned), and brother (Mentioned)

| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 |

WC: 1,927

Warnings: Reader has a mother, Reader has a brother, Reader breaks her leg, doctors, Eddie lives, hospitals, Reader has a cat mentioned, cuteness, awkwardness, slight forbidden relationship, slight angst, and fluff

It was an unusual day at work for the young doctor who had recently moved from Hawkins Indiana, though not necessarily bad. Eddie survived the Upside Down, finally graduating from Hawkins High School and going to college for his doctorate. Eddie had gone through a lot of changes once he got into college. He had cut his hair, not too short but not too long, and changed his attire. He still wore black, leather, and band tees, but at work, he wore something more professional. He didn't want to leave his friends, especially after everything that happened, but he had to get out of that town. After everything that happened, he wanted to help people; heal people from illnesses or broken legs. Checking the chart on the clipboard in his hands, Eddie knocked on the door before entering.

"Hello, I am your doctor, Dr. Munson." He introduced himself as he continued to read the patient's sheet.

"I'm Y/N... But you probably already know that." Your voice softly answered, causing Eddie to look up.

Eddie felt his heart skip a beat as he looked at you. You were gorgeous with your hair slightly disheveled as if you had just woken up. Your face was soft yet you had a determined look about you that caused Eddie to smile softly to himself. Slightly flustered, the younger man looked down at the sheet again. "Ah! Yes, I did know that. Well, it seems that you did break your leg. How does your knee feel? It says that you hurt it in the process of breaking your leg."

"Good, actually. It feels a little sore. I think I just twisted it or something." You answered back, taking your time to eye the doctor in front of you. It should be a crime to be as cute as he was. Why was your doctor so cute? Usually, your doctors were nice old ladies or weird middle-aged men who had four kids. Must've been your lucky day. Well... Not really, your leg was broken.

"Uh, if I may... How did you break your leg?" Dr. Munson asked you, snapping you out of your daydreaming, slightly embarrassing you as you cleared your throat.

"I... Uh... Fell..." You mumbled under your breath, glancing away from Dr. Munson, who seemed slightly surprised by what you said.

"Fallen?" he questioned you as he raised an eyebrow, giving you a curious look.

"Yeah... Fell..." You replied as you nervously fiddled with your hospital gown.

"Off of what?" He asked, only making you glance away and bite your lip.

You laughed breathily, shaking your head, "It's stupid... I fell 'cause I was trying to get my cat out of a tree."

Dr. Munson smiled slightly at your answer as he took in your answer. "It's not stupid. I find that rather remarkable. I didn't know that I would be treating a hero today." Eddie teased before his eyes traveled over to your cast, noticing the two names written neatly across. "Your family came in today?"

"Yes," You breathed out, shocked by your doctor's words, nodding your head and then clearing your throat. "My mother and brother. They came in this morning."

Eddie smiled warmly, "Well, that was nice of them." He spoke softly before clearing his own throat, looking back to your chart. "Well, uh, it seems that you will have to stay here for another couple of weeks. It seems your surgery went well and all that so now, as a precaution, you should avoid any strenuous activity, so try to move around as little as possible. Also, please take your medication when given and try to eat normally while you're here because it'll help." The young man explained calmly and clearly, watching your reactions carefully.

"Alright, thank you, Dr. Munson." You reply with a smile.

Eddie shook his head with a smile of his own, "No need to thank, Miss L/N. Just doing my job. And, please, call me Eddie." He replied, chuckling lightly.

"Then, please, call me Y/N, Eddie. Everyone else calls me Y/N anyways." You said happily, causing Eddie to chuckle.

"Alright, Y/N. Then please let me know what your pain level is. And remember to drink plenty of fluids." Eddie replied as he began writing things down on your chart, causing you to nod your head.

"Will do.”

As the days passed by, your mother came in to visit you multiple times, as did your brother, which was always a treat to see him. You loved them dearly, but when they visited your mind would be elsewhere, thinking about a certain doctor. You woke up every day in that stiff hospital bed and waited impatiently for your favorite doctor to come in and check up on you. You even went to bed thinking about your chats with him that morning or afternoon. Every day it seemed like you were falling deeper into love, but you tried your hardest to stay strong in order to keep your growing feelings hidden.

But, unbeknownst to you, Eddie wasn't far behind in the same boat. He had grown fond of you since he first saw you, but he knew deep inside, he couldn't do that to you or himself. It wouldn't be fair to you; you were his patient. But, he couldn't help but also noticed how often you'd blush around him. How bright your smile would be when he entered. He was falling, and he was falling hard. He needed a plan to save himself, but, unfortunately, there was no way out. You were going to make sure of that.

Knocking on your door, Eddie walked in, smiling as he did. "Hi, Y/N. How are you feeling today?" he asked as he leaned against the door frame, waiting patiently for your response.

"I'm fine, Eddie. Thank you. How are you?" You responded with a small smile, turning on your side to face the doctor.

"Not too bad. Just coming to see how you are fairing. No pain or anything?" He asked as he approached you.

"I don't think so, Eddie. But, if you ask me, I don't feel too great, honestly," You admitted softly, placing your arm over your forehead. "Is my discharge date soon?" You sighed dramatically, making Eddie chuckle.

"Well, we can get you started tomorrow. Then you'll be free from your hospital bed prison." Eddie joked with you as you giggled and rolled your eyes.

"Very funny, Eddie," You said with a smile as you sat up. "So does that mean I can try and walk?" You asked hopefully only for Eddie to nod.

"Of course. You'll have to wear your crutches to start off, however. But, first, how are you feeling? Any dizziness, nausea, lightheadedness, chest pain, or headaches?" He asked, quickly grabbing the pair of crutches leaning against the wall and passing them to you as you pushed off your covers.

You grabbed onto the handles of the crutches, you quickly stood up, Eddie making his way to your side, his hand pressing against your back to help stabilize you. You bit your lip as you tried to ignore how warm his hand was over the hospital gown. Nervously, you took one step with your good leg, pressing your socked foot on the cold ground before hesitantly moving the crutches forward. You moved, your foot sliding along the floor. Slowly, slowly, you moved. The first few steps weren't too bad, but as you stepped farther and farther, your movements became more and more hesitant as you found yourself getting tired. You let out a shaky breath, and you took another step only for the crutch leg to go unsteady and you to fall forward. Before you could say anything, you heard Eddie yelling out, but it sounded muffled and distant like he was speaking through a tunnel or some other sort of soundproof barrier. You closed your eyes, hoping and praying that you wouldn't hit the ground hard enough to injure yourself more. However, instead of hitting the ground, your body collided with someone's chest. As you opened your eyes, you saw Eddie staring down at you with a worried expression on his face.

"Hey... Are you okay?" He asked softly, making your face heat up at the small amount of space between you two.

"Uh... Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks.” You stammered, blushing heavily as you realized that you had fallen into his arms, which made you blush harder.

Eddie looked down at your face as he held you tightly in his arms, and he was surprised to see the faint trace of tears forming in your eyes as you struggled to hold back your emotions. "Are you sure? Do you want me to get you anything? Water? Does your leg hurt?" Eddie quickly rambled out, only for you to shake your head.

"Can you... Just hold me a while?" You asked softly, still trying to fight back your tears.

Eddie nodded his head, letting out a soft sigh as he held you gently and hugged you close. A wave of relief washed over you as you snuggled closer to Eddie, burying your face in the crook of his neck. His scent was calming, and it reminded you of home in some sort of unknown and weird way. After a few minutes, Eddie pulled back just enough to look at you properly. He stared for a moment, admiring how beautiful your features were. His cheeks tinted pink, he felt like he could stare at you forever and never get bored. But, suddenly, his thoughts came crashing back to reality and his lips twitched into a nervous grin. "I um... We shouldn't be doing this..." He whispered, his eyes darting away from yours.

You tilted your head slightly, confused by his sudden change in behavior, "What? Doing what?" You asked as Eddie led you back to your bed, leaning the crutches back on the wall.

"You're my patient. I could get fired." Eddie muttered as you realized what he was saying.

“I'm sorry!" You exclaimed. "I didn't realize-"

"No, it's fine," Eddie interrupted quickly. "It's my fault. I shouldn't have feelings for you." He chuckled nervously.

Your eyes widened as you sat there, staring up at the man before you as he ran a hand through his messy curly hair. "When am I discharged?"

"Tomorrow." Eddie hastily answered, not fully paying attention.

With his answer, you brightly smiled, "Alright, ask me out tomorrow." You remarked, making Eddie turn to you with wide eyes.

"What... What are you talking about?" He asked, watching as you simply shrugged.

"I won't be your patient tomorrow. Ask me tomorrow." You answered, laughing lightly.

Eddie stared at you, completely stunned. He had hoped that you wouldn't notice, but obviously, he hadn't been very subtle. "Okay then... I will. Tomorrow." Eddie finally replied as you gave him a thumbs up and an adorable smile.

"Awesome. Now, don't you have other patients to take care of?" You asked teasingly, making Eddie nodded his head rapidly.

"I do. I'll check on you before lights out. Uh, yeah! Metal…" Eddie nervously spoke, rushing to the door before abruptly stopping in his place. Turning around, Eddie gave you a nervous smile, "Goodnight, Y/N." He mumbled quietly before leaving, closing the door slowly as he left your room.

Once he left, you flopped down onto your back and groaned, resting your head on your pillow. You couldn't believe your luck! Eddie had just agreed to ask you out tomorrow. Now, all you had to do was wait.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x gn reader #eddie stranger things #stranger things stranger things season 4 #stranger things s4 #stranger things season four #angst #cute #fluff #x reader #x gn reader #doctor eddie munson #eddie lives #eddie lives au #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things #stranger things au #stranger things fanfiction

15 notes · View notes

i-literally-cant-with-this · 8 months ago

Text

A/N ::: I haven't written anything for like, a week now? I mean, nothing substantial. I started this 4 or 5 days ago and dropped it until this morning where I finished the last 3-5 pages. Anyway. I never write "Asshole Draken" because I really just don't see him pullin' that shit. But we all have bad days. And I guess this was one of his. But don't worry, it turns out so, so good (I think).

C/W ::: Asshole Draken x F.Reader, saying mean shit to each other, without saying too much, he gets a teeny itty bitty bit physical with her but that's all. He doesn't hit her so don't be completely deterred by this if that's what you were thinking. Uh, M->F and F->M Oral. Slight face-fucking, name calling (but it's ... ok? Idfk. Shut up.) I proofed this once cuz I got a sick kid that wants me to play roblox with her so I gotta go do that. If I missed anything shoot me a message and I'll check it out. I hope you guys like this!!

WC ::: 3,314 *roughly 8 pages on Google Docs* Sorry not sorry it's so fucking long.

He sat in the corner of the garage, working in near total silence on his bike.

You came over today because he invited you. You thought it was going to be fun, sitting in there with him while he fiddled away with the machine. Boy, were you wrong.

He was quiet for the most part. But when he did speak, he had nothing nice to say to you. He was really short for someone who was so much fucking taller than you.

You looked over at him, watching as he pulled the old engine out of the bike. He had a rag in his mouth and grease on his face. His hair was messy and his eyes were focused on the task at hand. You admired that determination. Still, you couldn't figure out what the hell his problem was.

You leaned back in your chair and crossed your arms over your chest. A question sat on the tip of your tongue, threatening to pass the closed threshold of your lips and enter the shared space. God you wanted to talk to him. Maybe you could help him find out what was wrong with the bike. You knew a thing or two about mechanics. Sure, not as much as he did. But a second set of eyes and hands rarely did more damage.

But then, the question died on your tongue. Because you knew why he didn't want your help. You're not even sure he wanted you there. You stood and headed toward the door to the house. Then and only then, did he finally speak up.

"The fuck you goin'." He said quietly.

You turned around and glared at him. "What?"

He set down his tools and pulled the rag out of his mouth. "Said, where you going? You're supposed to be helping me. You said you’d come over today so you could fucking help me with this goddamn thing."

"Helping you? Helping ...? Ken, you won't so much as even look at me. You haven't smiled at me, you barely said hi when I got here. And you're pissed at me?"

Ken stood up and walked over to you, towering over you as he wiped the grease off his hands. "I asked you for help and you said yes. I didn't ask you to just sit there and look pretty. Speakin' of, what the hell you wearing today, anyway? Is this supposed to be cute or somethin'?"

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, I am just here to look pretty, Ken. I'm not here to do anything else. I'm not here to actually do anything."

Ken took a step back and scoffed. "Are you serious right now? Are you really just gonna act like this? You don't wanna be here. I can see that. You can leave, g'head. Get out."

You stepped away from him and squared your shoulders. "Fffffine." You challenged. "Your wish is my command, my King." Turned away from him now, you muttered under your breath what a dick he was being and how you didn't know for sure if he wanted your help today with this. If you had known, you wouldn't have dressed the way you did.

"Sorry? Did'n hear ya jus’ now. What was that?" He said it louder than he needed to.

You spun around and met his gaze with your own. "I said, you're being a dick."

"Well, if the shoe fits, babe. And you're being a bitch. So, let's just wear these shoes, eh?" He shot back. “Let’s wear these shoes and jus’ walk away from each other.”

You were both silent for a moment. The air between you thick with tension. You could feel the anger bubbling up inside of you. Who the hell was he to speak to you like that? You came here to see him and he was treating you like shit.

You wanted to scream. You wanted to hit him. But you didn't.

Instead, you turned on your heel and stormed out of the garage, slamming the door behind you. He yelled at you to come back but you ignored him. You were done. Done with his shitty attitude and his shitty behavior.

Grabbing your jacket and your purse from the couch, you threw them both on and headed for the front door. You could hear his footsteps coming from the laundry room into the kitchen and sooner than you expected, they were right behind you.

"Jus’ gonna leave, huh?" He growled. "That's it? You're gonna walk out of here and leave me to finish this stupid fuckin' thing on my own?"

"You don't want my help, Ken! You don't even want me here right now! You've made that painfully obvious. So ... yeah. Yeah. I'm going to go. And you can call Mikey and have him suck you off while you two idiots do whatever it is that you do when you're toget---"

He grabbed you by the jaw and brought his face down to yours. "You … don't fuckin' talk to me like that. You understand? You're the only one who sucks this cock. An' right now I feel like you should be doin' a lot more of that than mouthin' off to me the way ya are. Gettin' on my las' fuckin' nerve righ' now, princess."

You looked up at him, shoving his hand away from you. "Ken." You said softly.

He pulled his hand away from your face and took a step back. "Mm? ... Ya got somethin' to say? There's a surprise."

You shook your head and bit your bottom lip. "I'm ... I didn't mean to ..."

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so you're ... what? You're sorry now? You always know the right things to say to me at the right times, don't ya? Yeah, yeah ya do."

You nodded. "Yeah. I guess."

He leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. "So, what? You're gonna come back ...? You gonna help me with this goddamn thing like I wanted ya to? You think I want you here now after ya actin’ like such a shit?"

"Oh my fucking god, Ken. Make up your mind, would you? This conversation is like watching someone on a swing that's out of control. I don't know which way to look and I'm getting nauseous. Just fuckin’ …tell me what you want." You rolled your eyes so hard at him it felt like you pulled a muscle in your socket.

"Tch. There go ya world famous eye rolls again. You look like ya do when 'm fuckin' ya real good. You're good at those." He smirked. "You're so goddamn dramatic. Always making a scene. Just come back here and help me with this thing. I'll even let you hold my big, heavy tools, k, princess?"

You stood there, arms crossed over your chest. You were ready to throw hands with him if he said anything else. But he didn't.

Instead, he walked over to you and wrapped an arm around your waist. He kissed the top of your head down to your neck and whispered an apology. You could feel his breath on your skin and his body pressed against yours. You couldn't believe he was acting like what happened didn’t just happen between the two of you.

"What the hell was that, Ken? You're such a ... a ... an asshole!"

He chuckled softly and kissed you on the lips. "I'm sorry, baby. You're right. I am an asshole. But you make me crazy, ya know? Ya little hissy fits irritate the shit out of me sometimes 'n I just explode."

You shook your head. "I don't want to be the one who makes you explode, Ken. Not like that, anyway." You giggled. "That's not why I came over today. I came here to help you. But I didn't even get the chance to. You didn’t give me the chance to. You were in a bad mood when I got here."

"We’ll get back in there and you can hold my tools like you always do. And I'll show ya what to do. Deal?" He looked down at you with a soft smile.

You smiled back. "Deal."

"Think you needa learn a little lesson about how you need to not take that bitchy ass little tone with me, hah? Follow me, now."

You watched Ken walk away and disappear around the corner into his bedroom for a second before what he was implying was registering in your brain.

"Oh. OH, shit." You caught up to him and found him sitting on the edge of the bed, his coveralls pulled down to his waist, he was leaning back on his hands. A vicious smirk set on his lips.

"Yeah, 'Oh shit.' Come here, brat." He reached back and took his hair out of its braid and tossed the tie onto the bed.

You walked over and stood between his legs. His hands were on your hips, gently caressing the silky fabric of your dress. You were already wet for him and he knew it. It was written all over your face. The way your hips swayed when he touched you.

"'M sorry I said what I said about what you're wearing today. You look really fuckin' sexy. It's distracting. I think you should take it off f'me." He gestured his hands downward, "C'mon. Get outta it."

You smiled and slid the straps off your shoulders one at a time. Then you slipped the dress down to your ankles, exposing your tits and pussy to him.

“No panties today, hm? You really had no idea I wan’ned your help with the bike?” His eyes were glued to your body. He stared at the roundness of your belly, rubbing it with the palms of his hands, sliding them around to the fattest part of your ass. He squeezed it gently and pulled you toward him, placing kisses on your stomach, moving down to your pussy.

His stubble tickled your skin as he kissed you. You sighed as he slipped his hands between your thighs and spread your legs apart a little more.

"What's this?" He dipped his fingers into your pussy and pulled them out, pressing them against his thumb again and again, holding them up to your face to show you how wet you were - like you were completely unaware of it at this point.

"You know what that is, dummy." You threw your head back, forcing your chest out a little bit more.

He laughed. "Yeah, I know what that is. What I don't know is why. Why ya so goddamn wet when you were just so fuckin' angry with me a minute ago. You like it when I yell at ya?" He was teasing, you knew he was. But his expression was anything but playful.

You shrugged. "It's not like I want you to be mean to me, Ken. But, I do … I kinda like the way you get when you're mad. It's ... hot."

Ken rolled his eyes. "Of course, course ya like it ... little freak like that. Just like when I fuck you hard and call you names." He licked his fingers and grabbed up your ass with a loud smack, making you yell out and jump closer to him.

You nodded. "I can't help it. I like it. And now? Well, now I know you like it too. You wanna fuck me like that, don't you? Fuck me hard and make me scream? Tell me what a perfect little slut I am for you? Tell me what a horny little bitch in heat I am? Fuck, Ken." You lowered yourself down and climbed onto his lap, straddling him. You could feel his hard cock strain against his clothes and he winced as you ground against it.

"Can't help it. You look at me an’I get wet sometimes. Can't fucking stop it. It's like my body is under your control." You whispered. "You know what I like."

He looked up at you with a wicked grin on his face. "Yeah, I know what you like. You like to be told what to do. You like to be bossed around. You like when I put you in your place, princess. An' I'm gonna do that. Righ’ now."

He stood, hoisting you up with him and turned around. Facing the bed, he lowered you down onto it. "Fuckin' slut. Startin' a fight with me just to get this cock. Tch. You asked for it, sweetheart. Fuckin' asked for it today ... 'n you're gonna get it." He shoved his coveralls down the rest of the way, leaving his boxers on and climbed down between your knees, kissing your thighs softly.

He rubbed your pussy with his fingers, ghosting them around your clit, teasing you, making you buck your hips up into his hand. He held your legs down with his other hand and sneered. "Did I tell you to fuckin' move like that?"

You raised your head off the pillow and looked at him, "N-no. Didn't."

"Sorry? N-no? N-no WHAT?" He mocked.

"NO SIR, you didn't tell me to move like that. 'M sorry." You smiled.

"Good girl ... learnin' fast. I like that. Good fuckin' girl. Keep it up, keep learning, keep behaving for me." He leaned down and kissed your pussy softly, moaning quietly into you.

"Hngh, fuck, Ken. Wanna move, please lemme move!"

"Mm-mm. No. Did'n tell ya to, did I? Hold the fuck still, princess." He smiled that smile at you and you could feel your cunt clench up immediately.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, Ken." You whined. "I w-, I want it, fuck, please."

He sat up and shook his head. "Nah, nah. Not yet. You're gonna have to wait for it. Be patient."

You groaned and slammed your head back down onto the pillow. "Ken, please. I can't wait. Please, please, please ... fuck you. Holy shit."

He laughed harder than you thought he should have. "F- ... fuck me? You come over here and get all uppity and have the audacity to say that to me. Goddamn it. I don't understand why you keep making me teach you these lessons, baby girl. It's like you need to be taught the same shit over 'n over 'n over again."

You couldn't speak. You could barely breathe. You were so worked up and so ready for him to fuck you relentlessly. But he wouldn't. Not yet. You had to wait. And that was driving you crazy.

"Fuck, Ken. PLEASE. Please fuck me, fuck me. I wanna ... ngh ... you ... so fucking bad. Please, fuck. Ken. PLEASE." You begged.

He chuckled and stood up, motioning for you to take his boxers and pull them down. "Fine, fine. Since you asked so nicely." Take 'em off." You sat up and pushed his boxers down with both of your hands and kissed your way down his abdomen until they were all the way off and his cock slapped against your chin.

You took it into your mouth and sucked on it, swirling your tongue around the tip and then taking as much of it down your throat as you could.

"Fuck, fuck ... that's it, that's it ... suck that cock, suck thatttt cockkkk baby." Ken growled. He pulled your hair back and held it tight in his fist, moving your head up and down on his cock. You moaned and choked, your eyes watering as he fucked your face.

"Mmmm, fuck, you like that, don't you? Like when I fuck this pretty little face of yours. Fuck, it's so fuckin' perfect. Fuck, baby. Look at me, look at me." He lifted your chin and forced you to make eye contact with him. He groaned as you whimpered.

He let go of your hair and backed away from you, standing at the edge of the bed. "Get over here."

You crawled over to him and sat up on your knees in front of him, waiting for him to tell you what to do next.

"Suck that cock s'more, baby. I want to see that make-up fucking ruined on that sweet face of yours."

You took him back into your mouth and sucked him harder, faster. You moaned and whimpered as you bobbed your head up and down on his cock.

"Good girl, g-hah fuck-good fucking girl. Righ' there righ' there righ' there FUCK ... fuck yes."

He held your hair back and thrust into your mouth, making you gag a little on it. You looked up at him, tears streaming down your face. His eyes were closed and he was panting heavily. He was close. You knew he was close. You felt his cock begin to twitch against your tongue as you doubled-down on your efforts.

He pulled out of your mouth and turned you around, bending you over the edge of the bed. He rubbed the head of his cock up and down your pussy, teasing you, making you moan and cry out for him.

"Ken, Ken ... ple- goddamn it! Ken, pleeeaaase." You whined.

"Mm-hm mm-hm, beg for it, bitch."

You both stopped and stared at each other when he said that.

It kind of surprised you. The both of you.

He furrowed his brows and opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He couldn't think of anything to say after that.

You had never been more turned on than at that moment.

You jumped up and quickly positioned yourself over his cock, sitting down just enough that you were sure he could feel you as much as you could feel him. Both of you pulsing over the touch of the other.

"Ken, Ken ..." you whined against his lips.

He kissed you and pushed your head back with his hand, forcing you to look up at him. "Mmm, fuck, baby. What do you want? Tell me what you want, slut."

You moaned at that and sunk yourself down onto his cock, taking him all in at once. "Wan' this, fuck ... wan' you s'bad."

"Yeah, yeah ... you fuckin' do. You want me to fuck you so hard you can't fuckin' move anymore. That's what you want, right? That's what you want, sweetheart."

It was not a question. He flipped you over and onto your back and he began fucking you at a brutal pace. "Fuckin' wanna get wrecked by this dick. Gonna get so fucked out you can't do anything but drool. Fuckin' slut. Fuck ... fuck yes."

You could barely speak. You couldn't form a coherent thought. All you could do was moan and whimper and whine.

He fucked you so hard and so fast, you weren't sure how he was able to keep going. He leaned down and kissed you, his tongue in your mouth, his cock in your pussy. It was bliss.

You screamed out and he bit your bottom lip, growling at you, "Fuck! Fuckin' love it when you scream like that, baby. Keep doin' it, keep cryin' 'bout how good I fuckin' feel n’side of you."

You wrapped your arms around his neck and held onto him for dear life as he fucked you into oblivion. He was relentless and unforgiving. You could feel him tense up and you knew he was about to cum.

He groaned loudly and thrust into you a few more times. You could feel his cum rush into your deepest places. He collapsed on top of you and you both gasped for air.

"Holy shit, Ken. Jesus fuck." you said through deep breaths.

"Right." He chuckled. "Gonna have to be an asshole more often."

You reached down and pinched his ass between your thumb and index finger.

"Hey! The hell ...?" He kissed the tip of your nose. "Did'n mean it. I know better 'n that."

"Yeah, don't forget who this pussy is attached to, princess." You laughed and shoved him off of you so you could help him finish the work on the bike before the day was over.

@kazutora-kurokawa @ryuuc00chie @katkusuo @darkstarlight82 @viburnt @southside-otaku @arlerts-angel

94 notes · View notes

chocolatequeennk · 2 years ago

Text

NaNo update, 11/24-11/27

Usually the Thanksgiving weekend is a great writing weekend for me. Not so this year! I had a lot of things going on, and I ended up getting behind almost three whole days.

Today, however, today I caught up.

So, over the last 4 days, I have:

Written the whole scene of them actually capturing Gallifrey in the stasis cube

Figured out a few issues in Forever Timeless--I'm eager to do some editing tomorrow, now that my word count is caught up

Plotted out several of my Ficmas fics and written a couple of them

Ficmas took most of my energy today. I needed stories where I could just sit down and write a huge amount of text all in one go, without having to hop around in the story for a paragraph here and there.

Oh! I almost forgot the word count update.

Today's words: 3949 Total wc: 45002

I think for a sneak peek today, we're going to go to a scene I wrote last week. This is in the 50th rewrite, between Ten and the younger Rose.

Rose looked at the TARDIS her Doctor had just entered, along with her older self. She wasn’t exactly jealous, but it was weird to watch him with another woman—even if it was herself.

“Ah!” Pinstripes pointed at her in jubilation. “You always tease me when I’m jealous of myself, but now you get it!”

Rose blinked. “How did you know what I was thinking?”

He blushed and tugged on his ear. “Welllll…” The word dragged out in a way she’d already become familiar with, but this time she had a feeling he was stalling for time.

She crossed her arms over her chest and he looked over at his younger self. “A little help here?” he muttered.

The younger Doctor shook his head and laughed. “Oh no, Doctor. You got us into this; you can get us out of it.”

The Doctor sighed and turned back to face her. “Ah… you remember I’m not human, right?”

“It’s hard to forget when you keep insulting humans every time you cut yourself shaving. ‘Stupid apes!’” she said, in what she felt was a pretty good imitation of him.

If possible, the pinstriped Doctor turned even redder. “Yes, and… you know Time Lords are telepathic. I told you that on Platform One,” he added.

“Yeah, I remember. After you told me—or let slip—that the TARDIS was in my head.” He flinched, and she smiled. “S��ok, Doctor. I forgave you for that a long time ago.”

“So… would you maybe forgive me if I told you that some day in the future you and I form a telepathic bond and it means that even right now I can kind of follow your train of thought? I’m not trying to read your mind, I swear, it’s just that I forgot that you didn’t know that I could do this and—”

Rose stepped forward and put her hand over his mouth. His brown eyes widened even further as he looked down at her.

“Can my Doctor… Does he…”

A furrow appeared in the Doctor’s forehead. “Ish it okay…” He pointed at her hand.

#nancy's daily writing post #nanowrimo #forever timeless #time and again #ten x rose #every doctor x rose tyler

16 notes · View notes

wonunuu · 4 years ago

Text

iris beauty ❀

8: hallucinations or memories of the past

✎ synopsis: falling for a guy is never easy, especially when your best friend of many years basically claimed him; you and mina have been friends for as long as you can remember, but your loyalty and trust are tested when she asks you to pretend to be her in meeting a guy she had been talking to online and you unintentionally start to develop feelings for him.

✎ genre: romance, angst, drama, comedy

✎ pairing: reader x yoon jeonghan

previous | mlist | next

a/n: i totally forgot it's update day today lmao. also the written part is so bad,, i think i wrote it at like 1 in the morning 🥴🥴 but like yeahh send me your thoughts!! i love reading them ☺️☺️☺️

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

wc: 900+

The day has arrived. Today, you will be going to one of South Korea’s famous landmarks, Seoul Tower, where you will meet up with your best friend’s boyfriend—yes, your best friend’s boyfriend. “Final spin,” Mina orders you and you oblige, twirling to show her the outfit she had picked out for you. It was a lavender coloured loose cami dress layered with a white cardigan, and paired with white converse. As for accessories, you wore silver studs and bracelets Mina had bought, along with your golden necklace with an iris flower pendant, a gift from your parents. Though it didn't match the other silver accessories, you still kept it as it held very special memories from your childhood with your parents.

“I don't know why we had to go full out,” you complain pointing to your outfit. “I’m just gonna meet him for a little while anyways.”

“Definitely not. I told you you need to match my clothing style. And I thought we agreed on no complaints?” Mina pouts, knowing it will hit you right in the gut. You roll your eyes at your friend and her persuasive skills, “Fine. No more complaints, sadly.”

“You look so cute!” Mina chirps, hugging and squeezing the life out of you.

“When is he coming?” you asked. The two of you had been preparing in the parking lot of the tower, waiting for Jeonghan to arrive. “We agreed to meet around 4 o’clock. It’s five ‘till four, he should be here soon. You should go wait in the entrance,” Mina instructs. “I’ll be right behind you guys.” Although she wasn’t gonna meet Jeonghan herself, she still wanted to see the boy. She didn’t want to be noticeable, so she wore a black hoodie, skinny jeans and sunglasses.

“Okay.” You took a deep breath, looking at Mina who was staring at you fondly.

“Thank you so much, YN. Tell what he sounds like later, okay?”

“I will.”

As you wait for Jeonghan at the entrance of the tower, you peek a glance at Mina who was standing about five meters from where you stood, looking around for the boy whom she didn't know the face of. Eventually, she meets you and gives a thumbs up—a sign of encouragement. You smile in response, and go back to waiting.

“Excuse me,” a man says, snapping you out of your trance. “Could he possibly be Jeonghan?” you thought, but when you saw him, you held in a laugh. It was a man in his forties—the possibility of him being Jeonghan is impossible. And the key giveaway is that he has a child with him, guessing she’s at the age of five or six.

“Do you know where we can buy the tickets to go in?” he asks. “I'm pretty sure if you go in and turn right, the booth should be there,” you inform him as you point in the direction. He gives you a thank you before going in, you watched the father and daughter enter the building, hoping you didn't give the wrong directions. When you turn back, you spot a boy dressed in an orange shirt, light blue jeans and gray coat walking your way.

“Hi,” he greets. “Are you perhaps Mina?” He asks. His face looks soft and gentle; beautiful chocolate brown almond-shaped eyes, nose perfectly centered on his face, and his lips resembled the colour of a peach. His hair was styled up, revealing his forehead.

He looked immaculate, and from the side of your eye, you knew Mina thinks the same way as she has completely stopped functioning to stare at the man in front of you.

“Jeonghan?” you say. He nods and smiles. You contemplate whether you should greet him with a hug or not, but your thoughts are interrupted when Jeonghan gives you a compliment. “You look wonderful.” He says and you feel your cheeks flush warm, turning red. You look down at the floor then back at him. “Thank you. You too, you look amazing.” You reply.

“Shall we go in?” He asks, offering his hand for you to hold. For a second, you thought he was moving too fast, but quickly remembered that Mina and him have been dating for weeks now. You then place your hand on his and he interlaced his fingers with yours, locking it tightly, before walking into the building.

“Tell me more about yourself,” you inquire as the two of you sit on the chairs placed near the window that viewed the countless buildings in the city below. Jeonghan takes a breath, “Uhm let’s see. Well, I like sports and I can say that I'm quite good at them.” He brags, straightening his shoulders, looking proud. You giggle in response. “How shameless,” you thought.

“I bet I can beat you at badminton.” You teased. Mina and you have been playing badminton since you were young. You were confident in your skills as you've had quite a lot of experience with the sport. “There's only one way to test out your theory,” Jeonghan replied. You scoffed, “Theory? Theory? FYI, Mina- I mean my best friend and I have been playing the sport since we were little. She never managed to beat me.” You inform him, almost slipping your words, but you corrected them quickly.

“Then we should schedule another meet up, and this time, it will be at the court.” He leans to you smirking, eyebrows raised. You nod. “Shit. I got carried away."

“Great!” He cheers. “I look forward to meeting you again, Mina.”

“Me too. I had a lot of fun today. Thank you.” You replied while Jeonghan looked at you fondly.

He then approaches you carefully, wrapping his arms around your figure, and you do the same. Before pulling away completely, Jeonghan gives you a soft peck on your cheeks. Your heart starts to race, but you shut it out as this is just a kiss for Mina, not you.

After he departs, you look for Mina. You see her a few meters behind you, smiling.

---

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

tags:

@yyxyzti @acciofirewhiskey @doiewonu @shuajeong @wooziverse @boogyuu @rjsmochii @haniehae @twentysixofmays @suhfluffy @sydneyy-jade @itsdnguyenxoxo @dancingddays @lovingyu04 @fluffyhyeju @haoraecane @dy-mglzz @1800zuho @t-secretpot @floweryjeons @yaebbinnie @t-secretpot @not-sojoyuus @xcalicoups @ryuyalana @bubblywonu @youbloominsideofme @lavenonie @winternight-wonwoo @muhanuibean @mariecoura @juji-han @strawbinnie-shortcake @isa499 @pseudoyop @serenadesvt @glouraeswei @glowingjaehyun @sunflowergyeomie @kunmaid @apricottulips @hao-ling @cheolright @pancakeandfrogs @elcie-chxn @yanniezx @jeonjungkaka @scoffingscully @sunflower-euphro @monstathedisco

unable to tag: @tyongs @jeongjungkaka @jammyjamjamss @hauntedprincessarbiter

add your @ here!

#seventeen #seventeen fluff #seventeen texts #seventeen imagines #svt #svt imagines #svt au #seventeen social media au #svt scenarios #svt texts #jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan fic #jeonghan fanfiction

209 notes · View notes

lue-arlert · 3 years ago

Text

From Across the Country - Chapter 1

Summary: Armin and Ivy have been pen pals since primary school. After a break in communication, they’re finally reunited via the paper and ink through which they’d grown so close.

WC: 2.6k

Chapter content warnings: OC content, modern au, hints at depression, long distance relationship, flashback

A/N at the end of the chapter

A New Assignment

The hot sun greeted her bright green eyes as she pulled open the front door and trotted down her porch, fanning herself with her hands as she sighed in exasperation at the sweltering heat that surrounded her. Her only chores remaining for the day were to check the mail and make dinner, and truthfully she wasn’t sure she even had the energy to cook after spending the day reorganizing the living room, doing two loads of laundry, running the dishes, and vacuuming both floors of her home.

While mulling over her dinner choices, she stepped up to the mailbox at the end of the driveway, then waved at the vehicle pulling into the right parking spot of the concrete, one of her roommates having just returned home from work.

She hissed gently as her fingertips pulled open the small door of the mailbox, the metal scorching to the touch from the sun, and she quickly snatched the envelopes from the box and nudged it shut once more with her elbow.

“Son of a bitch,” she grumbled, shaking her hand to the side.

“Hi, Ivy!” The brunette waved over the top of her car and bounced around the front of it, two grocery bags hanging from her arm.

“Hi, Sasha!” She waved back and trudged up the sloped driveway to meet her at the small pathway leading to the house. “How’s Nicolo doing?”

Sasha sighed in annoyance and shook her head, pushing the front door open with her foot. “Stubborn bastard keeps trying to stand without his crutches.”

“The break is never gonna heal if he keeps this up. Was he trying to cook again?” Ivy dropped the mail on the side table by the couch and ran her palms over her dirty blonde hair, pulling it through her fingers up into a sloppy bun.

“Yes! Like, just because I like eating doesn’t mean he needs to keep trying to feed me—I know how to cook! I’m a farmer, for fuck’s sake.” She groaned and carried her bags through the living room into the kitchen and plopped them on the dining table. “Did I get anything from my parents today?”

Ivy scooped the envelopes back into her hands and flipped through them. “No, it’s all for Connie—wait.” Her heart thumped at the baby yellow envelope sat in between all the others, her eyes trailing over the various stickers that framed her address, her name neatly written in a dark blue marker.

“I can’t believe it!” She exclaimed happily, dropping the other bills and letters back on the table.

“What is it?” Sasha poked her head back into the living room with a mouthful of an apple that was wedged between her fingers and raised an eyebrow.

“Armin wrote me back!” She excitedly sat on the couch and flipped the envelope around in her hands, admiring each sticker and each pen stroke, her cheeks beginning to burn from grinning.

“Oh, your old pen pal from elementary school? Didn’t he stop writing like a year ago?” She took another bite of her apple.

“He did,” Ivy’s fingers traced over his return address—it was different from the last time she’d heard from him, he must have moved again recently. “I can’t believe he wrote me again!”

“What’d he say?” Sasha stepped over to her and stood on the other side of the coffee table, watching Ivy as she began to peel the envelope open.

“I dunno, but it’s a thick letter.” The last correspondence was brief, almost as if Armin had no interest in continuing the communication. There wasn’t much of an update, just a list of what his plans for that week were, and no mention of his moving, either.

Ivy carefully removed the folded papers and began to open them, when something fell out of the pile, drifting onto the floor.

With furrowed brows, she leaned forward and plucked it from the carpet, turning it over in her hand. Her heart rate increased and eyes widened, her mouth going dry.

“What?” Sasha asked, confused.

“He—he sent me a Polaroid of himself.”

Her stomach fluttered up into her throat and her hands began to shake as she gazed at this perfect image: his arm was extended and out of frame, showing he snapped the photo of himself, as he sat cross legged on a floor and leaned to his side to show a background of a small, tidy living room, a cat curled up on the couch. His hair was a shimmering blond, sitting softly over his eyebrows with what looked like a buzzed undercut, and he was smiling at the camera with big blue eyes that looked deep enough to swim through, his plush-looking lips curved shyly over his mouth.

Ivy had to force her eyes away from the photo, but each time she did, she found them glued right back onto him. In the ten years they’d been pen pals, never had they exchanged photos of themselves, social media names, phone numbers, or anything that would lead each other to finding the other person outside of a street address. They’d always respected each other to never seek the other person out without consent or initiating that one wanted to give the permission first.

“Lemme see!” Sasha hopped over to the couch and sat on the arm, leaning over her friend to look at her hands. With a quiet gasp, she turned to look at Ivy, then back to the image. “He’s beautiful.”

“He is.” Ivy couldn’t stop smiling. What did this mean? Why out of the blue did he send this? What else was in the envelope?

She finally sat the Polaroid on the coffee table and finished unfolding the rest of the letter, finding perfectly lined white paper with his familiar clean handwriting scrawled all through it. It crinkled lightly in her hands as she read over the update. Having gone so long since hearing from him, it felt like the first time she’d received a letter from him—a feeling she knew she’d never forget.

Her small, squishy fingers picked at the sticker packet until all her favorites were peeled away and stuck to her palm and sides of her fingers, leaving behind the ‘ugly’ stickers that consisted of just shapes. Her letter and envelope had to be perfect, had to have all the cat stickers, all the glitter pen writing, all the prettiest additions to it.

She stared at the name written very plainly in the middle of the pure white envelope and grinned widely, shoving some of her hair out not her face.

“Ivy,” her teacher called her attention as he squatted beside her, arm around the back of her chair. “What are we sending to…” He glanced at the papers on her desk, then back to her. “Armin?”

She cleared her throat dramatically a pulled one of the cat stickers from her palm, placing it to the left of the capital A in his name. “‘Dear Armin,’” she began in her sweet little 9-year-old-voice, reading off her chicken scratched letter, “’Hi. I hope you are doing good. My name is Ivy. I like cats. My mom said I can get a cat when I turn ten, because ten is a respon’sble age to be having a cat. I don’t know what respon’sble means. Do you like cats? I hope you like cats. Then we can be friends, and I can always use more friends. My friend Sasha likes dogs. Dogs are okay, but I like cats better.’”

She grinned to her teacher and placed another sticker to the right side of the N in his name.

He chuckled at her and tapped on the page. “Your handwriting is improving! I think this will be a great project for you. Are you excited to have this new friend?”

Ivy nodded furiously and grabbed a pink glitter pen, hastily uncapping it. “Yeah, I hope he wants to be my friend.”

“I’m sure he will.” He stood from beside her and patted her head, striding over to the next student.

***

A week and a half had passed since the students sent out their letters, and Ivy was growing antsy to hear back from her new friend. She’d sent plenty of pages of her drawings and telling him about herself, that she was sure he would want to be her friend.

She went into detail about her blonde hair and green eyes, her age and height, and her favorite foods, her favorite toys, and her favorite day of the week—Thursday.

Ivy squirmed in her chair as she watched the teacher and his student assistant pass out letters to each of her classmates, her palms sticky with nervousness.

Finally, the assistant reached her and she all but snatched the letter out of her hand, with an excited, “Gimme!”

This pulled an amused snort from the assistant as she scurried away from Ivy’s table to move onto the next student.

Ivy’s fingers rapidly tore at the envelope flap, too eager to see its contents to pay any attention to the decorations on the envelope itself.

With wide eyes and slacked jaw, she scanned over the finely written words on the folded lined paper.

Dear Ivy,

Hello! My name is Armin. I’m 9 years old, 133cm, 28kg, and I also have blond hair! But my eyes are blue, not green.

I’m in Mr. Smith’s 4th grade class at Paradis Primary, and my favorite subject is science. I like to learn about the oceans and mountains and rocks and the sky. Did you know you can find mountains AND volcanoes in the ocean?!

I like cats, too! I’ve never had a cat, but a friend in my neighborhood has a cat, and I really like it.

I really like the drawing you did of you and your friends. Here’s a drawing I did of me and my friend Eren! He’s been my best friend since we were little.

I’m happy we have this assignment and we can meet new friends! My mom says this assignment will be good for me. I hope I can make lots of friends this way.

Anyway, class is almost over. I’ll talk to you later!

Yours sincerely,

Armin

Ivy’s eyes lit up. She was absolutely taken with this boy already, his handwriting captivating her in a way she didn’t understand, his use of big words impressive. His art skills may not have been the best she’d ever seen (even for a 4th grader) but she was still so enthralled in his artwork that she couldn’t help but hold the letter to her chest as she stared at the crayon drawing.

“Armin,” she whispered to herself, grinning widely at the idea of this new, exciting friend.

That evening, after she finished her dinner and homework, she began to go through her room to find things she wanted to tell Armin about, wanted to find things to send to him and share with him. She was too giddy to go to bed that night, dreaming to herself of all the things she wanted to talk to him about. She had a good feeling about him, this blond boy she’d never met, this smart boy she’d never once seen in her life. Oh, how this was going to be a beautiful journey.

“I’m heading to class,” Sasha leaned down to Ivy, who sat at the dining table flipping through the morning news on her phone, and touched her cheek to the blonde’s with a quick muah!

“Have a good one, Sash,” Ivy grinned at her friend and reached for her coffee, bringing the warm mug to her lips.

“We’ll see,” the brunette laughed as she scurried through the living room to the front door and quickly popped out of it with a loud click as it shut.

Ivy sighed and laid her phone on the table, rubbing her face deeply to remove the sleep from her eyes. She had spent a majority of the night reading over Armin’s letter, all seven pages, taking in every detail of his explanation for his hiatus from writing her.

Her feelings were hurt that he just quit contact cold turkey, but his words made sense to her. Slowly, she lifted her mug to her lips once more, glancing to the staircase as it creaked with quick footfalls.

A short, buzzed cut man entered the kitchen with an exaggerated yawn, stretching his arms over his head. “G’morning, Ives.”

“Morning, Connie. There’s breakfast in the microwave for you.” She flashed him a quick grin before sipping at her coffee.

“Thanks!” He briskly trudged through the kitchen and went to retrieve his breakfast, punching the buttons on the microwave to nuke the food for 30 seconds. “How’d you sleep? Did you even get any?”

“No,” she sighed with a smile, looking over her shoulder at him. “But that’s okay, I’ll nap once I’m done responding to the letter.”

“I can’t believe he finally wrote you back.” Connie poured himself a mug of joe, returning the pot to its hot plate as the microwave beeped at him.

“I know, I’m still shaken over it.” Ivy turned back to her phone, plucking it off the table and opening her app for her local craft store. “If I place an order at Barnes Crafts, can you pick it up for me on your way to work?”

“I don’t work today, Ives.” He joined her at the table, sitting to her right on the corner of the chair with his legs spread as he leaned over his plate, taking two quick bites.

“Shoot,” she frowned at him, then shrugged. “It’ll have to wait, I guess.”

“Ives.” He reached over and rested his hand on her wrist, rubbing his thumb over the dip from her palm to her forearm. “You’ve gotta leave the house soon, babe. You haven’t gone anywhere in weeks.”

She shrugged again and pursed her lips, glancing away from him. “I’m fine.”

Connie stared at her for a moment before releasing his touch from her and returning to his food. “I’ll come with you today, if it helps.”

“Could you?” She asked with a tone of relief, her shoulders untensing at his offer.

“Yeah. What do you need, anyway?” He shoveled another bite into his mouth.

“New stationary. I want my letter to be perfect.” Her grin spread over her lips wider, butterflies taking their place in her belly.

He smiled at her and nodded, polishing off his breakfast with one final, large bite. With a mouthful, he said, “I’m sure it will be.” He swallowed after quickly chewing. “You’re creative. It’ll be all cute when you’re done. Are you gonna be extra and spritz it with your perfume?” Connie wiggled his brows at her and poked at her arm.

Ivy blushed with a soft laugh and batted his hand away. “No, you freak, I’m not gonna do that, that would be weird.” But honestly, it wasn’t a bad idea. She’d never done it before, but had frequently seen it in old movies and period pieces.

He chuckled and stood from his seat, taking his empty dishes to the sink. “Alright, get dressed and let’s go.”

Giddy, Ivy lept from her seat and hustled up the stairs to her room, quickly changing into a pair of light wash ripped shorts and a white tank top of her favorite classic rock band, then slid her feet into black canvas flats, her excitement unwavering.

Before leaving her room, she sat at her vanity and gazed at her mirror, admiring the photo of Armin that she tucked into the side of it. Her warm cheeks and broad smile wouldn’t fade at the sight, and her fingertips absently touched the photo, grazing the side of his face. She would return the gesture and include a photo of herself when she would exchange her correspondence.

Lue’s Complete Masterlist

A/N: Thanks for tuning in! I hope you enjoyed it! I’m not sure if the chapter is too short, I wanted to at least get my foot in the door with this, so chapters may vary in length.

Any feedback is greatly appreciated! Thanks again for reading!

#armin arlert #Armin Arlert fic #aot #snk #modern au #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #fanfic #attack on titan fanfic #shingeki no kyojin fanfic #Armin #From Across the Country

27 notes · View notes

kawaiijohn · 3 years ago

Text

Going Angst Week Day 2: Obsession

Ao3: Here

WC: 1689

Nav: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

prev | next

The scenery behind the door was very... unique Quizz would say.

“You know, if I wanted space I would just remove a wall. A room suspended in the endless void is a little... extra, don’t you think?” They asked nobody.

There was a singular platform suspended in an endless inky void of space with a singular pathway to the door. Nothing sat upon it but a desk- complete with a fancy looking double-monitor setup and roomy drawers underneath. It looked sleek, modern, tempting.

Quizz didn’t know why the single point of focus in an otherwise liminal room was so enticing, but hey! The feeling in their chest hadn’t led them astray. Yet.

With a shrug they began walking, their saunter turning into a slow but steady glide as they negated gravity. “Well, only one way to go. Down it is!!”

The monitors lit up with a strange logo- a devilishly smiling face with red shades and blue flames for hair. Okay... that looked really cool, but... why was it lighting up? They tapped the space key and a password entry blinked before them.

“I can’t even remember my name, what makes this place think I’ll remember a fuckin’ password right off the bat? Sheesh!!” He pulled the chair out and took a seat, realizing it didn’t need adjusting and was hella comfortable.

Alright... he could work with this.

With a too-wide grin he began trying to unlock the machine.

-----

It turned out he could not, in fact, work with this.

Quizz had his cheek pressed against the desk, growling lowly at the password box as it flashed tauntingly at him. It really didn’t help that the damn thing cackled at him with every wrong entry.

“Stupid computer. Stupid amnesia. Stupid Quizz... stupid stupid stupid.” He pried his face off the desk in despair and slammed his forehead on it a few times. “The fact that nothing seems to hurt me makes me think I’m just having an awful dream.” Another slam. “But with my terrible luck I’m in purgatory or something.” Slam.

“Why is this so damn hard... Always gettin’ myself into so much trouble- way more than it’s worth!! Gods mom was ri-...” Quizz paused and thought. “.... she was... who? Who was... right?? ACK!” They grabbed their forehead, talons accidentally scratching the fuck out of their face in the rush. “I-I... why do things keep. Leaving me?”

They took a moment to calm, thinking about it- thinking about the trouble they were in; lost and alone with apparently only a locked computer for company. “Please, I... don’t want to forget her. I just want to... know...” The pain in their head subsided as the thing in their chest thrummed violently. “Who was she to me again??” They had to remember, feelings of both nostalgia and love rushed over them, followed by a single, near debilitating shudder of regret and the gut-wrenching feeling of failure.

‘I’m sorry I wasn’t enough... I couldn’t be there for you all...’

Quizz gasped loudly. “I... someone said I get into trouble... it was familiar, but not angry. Exasperated... and then I... I left them. How did I leave?” Their heard vibrated strangely again. “I don’t think I left them willingly. But who were... they?”

A happy, yet tired family sits at a table. A single chair remains empty yet another day; a small plate covered in frogs sits on a placemat in front of it. There’s three other people, smiling yet tired. Pizza steams fresh in the center with two figures talking excitedly about something else. They’re all smaller besides one more in focus than the others. They look... older? The image clears a bit more and reveals a stout woman with slightly greying hair and blank eyes...

Something clicks into place.

"Mom!!! I remember mom- I think... but who are the others? Kids, at least maybe? Ah, what was her name- I can... Her favorite color was peach!!” They readied themself for pain again, but none came. “ Ah, so the initial memory sucks when I remember it!! Noted! Thanks brain, I hate it!!!” They tapped their forehead and stood in front of the desk, arms crossed. “Now, brain, my dear friend- can please you do me a favor and, oh... I don’t know... fuckin’ LET ME UNLOCK THIS FUCKIN’ DESKTOP?? Please???”

The monitor snickered softly at them again after a moment of absolute silence.

“ALRIGHT SMARTASS!!!” Quizz slammed their fist hard on the keyboard, hearing something click softly underneath. “There’s literally no need to get sassy with me! So what do you say, help me out here, bud? Please???” They pleaded with the computer, but got a loud raspberry in return. “Cool. Just fuckin’ great.” Another smack to the keyboard made something inside the desk click again, the sound of some sort of mechanism unwinding. After a moment, a drawer (one he was SURE was locked) glided open gracefully.

Quizz perked up, ignoring the fact they were about ten seconds from slashing the monitor in half with their new claws. “Alright! Now that’s the shit I’m talkin’ about! That’s the shit I’m fuckin’ about!!!” They turned and saluted the blank space surrounding him. “Thanks, weird void room. Thanks weird asshole computer!! I totally appreciate the help you gave me!!”

‘Ah, sarcasm. Never fails to lighten the mood.’

With nimble fingers the amnesiac started shuffling through the drawer. It had several very... interesting items inside- weirdly shaped pens, a neat collapsable cane he was gonna inspect later, but the best of all was a pair of dope-ass red shades that they absolutely donned immediately- a feeling of pride and rightness filling them as they put them on.

They made it to the bottom of the drawer when their chest thrummed violently. A lone binder, locked tightly, sat at the bottom. They grasped their chest with one hand and the book with the other, admiring the intricate silver swirls and black glittering stars covering it. Quizz placed it on the desk, noticing a small, strangely glittering key hanging off of a chain attached to it.

The room seemed to whisper directly into his mind.

‘Open it. Inside. Open... learn about... read... learn...’

With a shaking hand, they unlocked it and read.

They read.

And read.

Memories coming to the forefront and fading away just as soon. Their eyes scanned words that would pixelate and blur as soon as they glanced at them. Names and places, numbers and facts- blurred away from his sight.

‘No. This is not how it should be.’

A growl bubbled up in his chest as he kept reading. Names were all universally destroyed, photos for the most part blurred out. But categories- favorite places and things... birthdays and personality types- all of those were categorized neatly and nicely.

Some pages had just a few, and those names were less obscured- some even with profile pictures fully visible.

Those pages made his chest rumble happily. He couldn’t understand why.

But there were three specific pages that stood out. Just looking at them... it made his blood itch, his chest scream in longing.

He needed to finish them. If he didn’t... he didn’t know what he would do.

He poured over the pages over and over and over again.

They all had information filled for the most part, more categories were finished than any other page had been, but things like the person’s name and appearance, as well as the photos were unhelpfully blurred out.

They snarled at the thought of not knowing what it meant.

“Can’t make anything easy for me, huh?”

One was a page that was rather childish. Observations were written but he could barely understand them- the letters scrambling before his eyes. But he noticed something- it seemed the entry was cut short; the only clear thing besides crayon drawings of frogs said ‘entry cut short, just like their time with us.’

The second page was filled with pressed flowers- all different types of lilies and snapdragons. Everything was written with a glittery peach gel pen. They ran a claw over the script and felt a tear fall from their eyes. The writing made them feel something deep and painful- the same pain they’d felt a short while ago.

Their eyes scanned the page, noticing a single clear data entry.

Favorite Color: Peach

“This was... is this my mom?”

Upon saying that, the page become more readable- some smaller things filling out and the photo less ‘thumb over the camera’ and more ‘they moved while I took this’.

If this was information on people they knew then...

Quizz yelled as their chest spiked in pain, something overcoming their willpower.

If this book was filled with things about the people they loved, then they will... they are going to... uncover all of it- collect all the information and find them. They’ll collect everyone interesting they meet- ask them... get answers, know things, know all things to... to -

Protect.

Love.

Learn.

Know. Know them.

After feeling cold pins and needles consume their form, Quizz flipped back to the third and last page that had gathered their interest.

The very first page in the book.

Their claw ran over the scrawling handwriting- admiring how the writer crossed their sevens with lines, how they looped their letters and underlined things for emphasis. They felt nostalgic and hollow.

This page had every single category filled, but the descriptions were blackened out; like they’d spilled ink all over the page. They looked it up and down but couldn’t find a single clue about who page one would have been.

With a sigh they grinned and noticed something peculiar on the inner cover- right next to the bio. There was a single note, a single clue.

Password: Page 5′s best friend.

Now that... that tickled Quizz’s fancy. Page 5... that would be the childish froggie page? Yes it was.

Quizz felt the buzzing in their chest become steady, violent yet subdued. It was telling them this was the right direction- that attaining that information would fill a hunger they didn’t know they had.

Interesting, this was going to just be... delightful.

#dantes vibe corner #my fics #dp oc #dp #danny phantom #phanfic #dp quizz #quizz #long post #going angst week 2021 #this one is more mild but the next one is gonna fuckin HURT

18 notes · View notes

fandomscombine · 4 years ago

Text

The Hargreeves Kerfuffle Part 2: Family Reunion

The Hargreeves siblings x Hargreeves!Reader (Familial Relationship)

BG: The Reader is Number Eight. It follows how you fit into the structure of Season 1 and the family dynamic of the siblings.

This part follows the collapse of The Umbrella Academy during their youth and having the family back together after years apart for the very first time.

I have mashed up the information and some events from both the comics and the tv series. So a heads up for readers who haven’t read the comics, it was hinted in S2 but in the very beginning of the comics, it’s canon that Reginald is indeed an Alien.

The series will consist of 10 parts. Where the reader would have a focused interaction with each sibling. (Eg. After this part, it would be Luther x Reader, then Diego x Reader and so on! –Yes Ben is included)

WC: 4786 (never had I written so much for one part before!)

Contains: Angst. Death- Reginald and Ben (so not exactly a spoiler, but while writing Ben’s scene had my eyes water a bit.) Crap childhood and the Hargreeves being a mess.

A/N: You guys are literally the best! Reading your replies and comments about how much you enjoyed part 1 and are looking forward to the rest of the series, really warms my heart!

>>GENERAL MASTERLIST<<

>>THE HARGREEVES KERFUFFLE SERIES MASTERLIST<<

READ: [PART 1] [PART 3] [PART 4]

>>JOIN MY WRITING CHALLENGE!<<

March 21, 2019.

Never had you thought that you would be back here, looking up the gates of The Umbrella Academy, 13 years later.

There was and still is so much pain associated with this building, this entity, this identity of The Umbrella Academy. That you hadn’t seen it coming- well not exactly completely blind to it. Sir Reginald Hargreeves’ upbringing of children-your siblings, your childhood- had always been shit but you had never come close to imaging it to be as emotionally and mentally damaging as it did.

Children at aged 7 finding out they had powers was great. To a kid, it was a dream come true to be a real-life superhero. It all started out as fun and games but soon, training started to be competitions to outshine your siblings-your competitors whist being told to work together at the same time. It was quite a hard concept to grasp as a young kid, but in order to get any attention and praise from a distant father, a kid would do anything.

By the age of 9, the superhero team of ‘The Umbrella Academy’ was officially announced to the world. The group consisted of the 7 Hargreeves children, publicly known as: Spaceboy, The Kraken, The Rumor, The Séance, The Boy, The Horror, and Foresight.

An 8th child with seemingly no superpower, had been secretly tucked away, hidden from the world and too, distanced away from her own siblings. It was though Vanya Hargreeves didn’t exist.

You did try your best to spend time with Vanya and keep the Sunday sister bonding time with her, but with all your training and missions, combined with all her violin lessons and some other private lessons she often go on with in long periods of time - though she wouldn’t mention what they were- there was absolutely no time to be in each other’s presence, so soon you along with the rest of your siblings slip away from Vanya.

At age 10 was a big year for the Hargreeves siblings, they had kind of successfully protected the city of Paris from the chaos of the Eiffel Tower being a spaceship- yes it did flew away but at least the people were saved- The mission became world wide news and soon every move they made caught the public’s eye. With this led to more intense training and additional etiquette workshops to better the group’s public image.

Reginald being a helicopter parent took a toll on the children, who had coped in their own ways. Luther taking the role of ‘leader’ to heart, Diego with his never ending hero complex, Allison using her power to get whatever she wanted, Klaus fell into the world of drugs and alcohol, Five-the rebel who thinks he’s smarter than everyone even dad, Ben into the world of video games, Vanya became ever more quiet and more to herself, and you-a yes person to dad who calls you his most valuable asset that has ever crossed his path, never wanting to let him down.

Things really started to get out of hand at the ripe old age of 13. Breakfast had been a mess, Five had a massive argument with dad and stormed out of the house. You ran after him, caught his coat just as he passed the gate- the very gate you are standing in front of now.

‘FIVE! WAIT!’

‘WHAT?’ He turned, looking angrier as ever.

‘Please don’t leave.’ You place your hand on his shoulder- damn when did he become taller than you? ‘You both can talk this out. Rationalized things out’ You pleaded.

He shook your hand away. ‘Talk? REALLY Y/N? You think good old dad would dare listen to someone younger than him? TO HIS OWN CHILDREN?’ He snorted. ‘You are daft y/n. I thought you were smarter than this-‘ Five sighed. ‘But a guess you are too much of a daddy’s girl to see things clearly.’

‘I know you didn’t mean that’ You stammered, not letting the tears fall. ‘that’s just your anger talking.’

‘oh but I do mean it. Now if you’d excuse me, I have to get going to prove dad wrong.’

Five makes a step forward but you blocked his way

‘GET OUT OF THE WAY Y/N’ He pushes you. ‘I DON’T WANT TO SEE YOUR FACE ANYMORE.’

As you fell to the ground, you see him blip away.

That was the last time anyone had seen Number Five and his final words still haunts you to this day.

‘get out of the way y/n! i don’t want to see your face anymore.’

To make matters worst from having a sibling disappear and to never come back was to have another sibling lose his life.

The media was quick to publish the news. It was all the tabloid and news outlets seem to care about. The headline would vary but all in all still carry the same heart-breaking news. Be it from ‘The Horror dies in mission.’ , ‘The Umbrella Academy loses the life of another of its members.’ to ‘RIP to teen superhero Ben Hargreeves aka The Horror.’

Oh Ben, dear Ben. Why must he be taken away? You thought. Why?

The mission was meticulously planned and prepared for. You were sure to have extracted all the information on what was to go down and what the villains’ moves were from your vision.

You had memorized that every aspect of that dream- you had 2 weeks to prepare. Everyone was supposed to be safe, but why wasn’t Ben?

Why didn’t reality play out as to what you foresaw? You had never slipped up before. Why had the one time you did cost you the life of your beloved brother? Why?

While sobbing your eyes out onto Ben’s grave, a memory of what seemed so long ago came rushing back.

>>‘I’m sorry y/n.’ He said leaning on your door frame.

‘Ben!’ You exclaimed. ‘I’m so glad you’re back up and running!’

Ben was caught off guard. ‘You—You’re not mad at me?’

‘Why would I be mad at you?’ You questioned, genuinely confused at your brother’s words.

‘Cause, Cause I almost got you killed. I am a monster.’

You sat up straight at those words, your ribs hurt a bit at the sudden movement, but you didn’t care. Your brother was blaming himself for something he couldn’t have controlled.

‘NO BEN!’

Ben jumped from your sudden outburst.

You motioned for him to come closer.

‘Ben…’ looking into his eyes. ‘Ben you are no monster.’

‘But—’

‘uuh uh I’m not done’ You held his hand in yours. ‘You are no monster what happened then was an accident, nobody knew, heck nobody expected powers to just show up. It was beyond anyone’s control. It took us by surprise.’

His shoulders relaxed.

‘It wasn’t your fault. I don’t blame you for what happened.’

He gave you a bone crushing hug. ‘Thank you y/n. You don’t know how guilty I was feeling.’ Voice muffled by your shoulder, which is now wet with his tears. ‘I kept thinking about the pain I caused you and I wasn’t allowed to leave my room even when I begged dad to see you and say sorry. y/n’

‘Shhh shhh’ Rubbing his back. ‘It’s alright Ben. What’s important is that we’re all here now. Alive, Safe and sound.’. <<

‘I’m sorry Ben…’ You choked out.

‘I’m so sorry Benny…’ Wiping his gravestone of your tears. ‘I—I got you killed. I am a monster. I am THE monster.’ You hiccupped. ‘It is MY job to keep everyone same, to do the reconnaissance, to ensure that everyone in the frontline is safe. It is my power to foresee what could go wrong, to avoid disastrous mistakes. And….and I failed, Ben. I failed. I failed you, dad, The Umbrella Academy.’

‘I miss you Ben so much…’ You lie down with an arm across the lawn. Picturing that is was him you’re hugging, that he is really there.’ more than your annoyingly sweet ass could ever believe. I wish you were here Ben, safe and sound. And if you could hear me Ben, I wish you could forgive me.’

Your eyes slowly fall shut from the emotional guilt you’re feeling but a warm breeze passes through like a warm embrace lightening the heavy burden within.

A soft whisper of reassurance and familiar words brings you to peaceful rest.

‘I forgive you y/n. It wasn’t your fault. I don’t blame you for what happened.’

You stirred from your sleep as you felt yourself lifted from the ground.

‘Careful Diego! You might wake her up.’ You hear Klaus say.

All this trauma, stress and was just too much to handle by minors and as quickly as all your powers came, the same goes for the people who left.

Klaus was the first to leave the academy at age 16, who choose to be self-checked at a rehab centre, stating that that was a way healthier environment then this shithole that was ‘home’. Who could blame him? Especially when you yourself were planning to leave.

As much as you wanted to get up and leave in the dead of night, you can’t. You don’t have the heart to leave your remaining siblings behind. No, not in this environment. If you were to leave, you wanted them to go with you, to at least know they would have a good life ahead.

Under Reginald’s watchful eye, it would take time to sort the plan out, but it would be worth it.

And you know just the person to talk to.

‘Heyya Diego.’

‘You’re up to something y/n/n and I don’t want to be in any part of it.’ He says without glancing your way. ‘Not after the pineapple incident.’ Diego’s eyes finally landing on you.

Rolling your eyes, you chuckled. ‘Oh come on Diegs! That was years ago! It was just a childish prank—’

Diego gives you the finger.

‘-Oi! It is not MY fault what Luther did to you; besides you were supposed to take the EAST stairwell, NOT the West.’ You say matter of factly, shaking your head. ‘Ughh no, we are getting out of topic. Diego, I need your help and you have to promise not to tell anyone-’

‘You’re devising a getaway plan, aren’t you?’

Your brows scrunched together. ‘How’d you—’

‘I’m not blind y/n, I recognised the look of someone who too is planning to escape.’

You raise a brow. ‘Too?’

‘Yes, Too.’ Diego edges closer to you. ‘Now, why don’t we save the trouble of potentially ruining each other’s individual schemes and join forces. Team up. More brainpower. And whatnot. Deal?’ Offering his pinky out.

You ignored the outstretched gesture. ‘What happened to being a lone wolf huh? I thought that was your thing now?’ You countered.

‘Like a said y/n, the more brainpower, the higher the success.’ He explained. ‘Say, we do manage to get out or perhaps just leave, like Klaus. Where would we go? Where would you? Hmm?’

‘I… I…’ You honestly don’t know.

‘Exactly. That’s why we team up and once we’re out of here. We stick together for a while till we get back on our feet and figure out what we want then go our separate ways.’

You nod, digesting his words. It seems like a solid plan with ample flexibility before deciding on what to do with your life after. But….

‘Okay…..’

‘Okay!’

‘…On one condition. It would not only you and me. We’ll try to get to convince the others to come along too.’

‘What?! y/n no, that’s too many people on the plan-‘

‘More brainpower, higher the success. Your words Diego. Not mine.’ You retaliated. ‘Besides, we can’t just leave everyone here. It’s miserable here. They’re family Diego.’

‘Fine we’ll tell Luther and Allison.’

‘Everyone, Diego.’ You stared him down. ‘And that includes Vanya. No buts.’

‘Ugh.Fine.’ He points a finger towards your face. ‘We tell Luther, Allison AND Vanya. But I swear y/n if anyone of them rats us out or backs out of the plan. We leave them behind. No pity if they choose to stay in this shithole of a house. They are old enough to make their own decision and to face the consequences.’ He leans back to the bed’s headboard. ‘That’s my final offer. Deal?’

‘Deal.’ You interlock your fingers, sealing the pinky promise.

It was easy to get Vanya on board, as she was the child that received the crappiest treatment from dad. Allison was hesitant at first but after convincing her the real world had so much more to give compared to that of the imaginary perfect bubble she created for herself here in the academy with the use of her power, she was on board.

Luther that ever loyal ‘leader’ of the academy would never dare cross dad, the idea wouldn’t have even crossed his mind. Diego had failed to make him see reason and so have you. Luther only came around to be a part of the escape because Allison had agreed to it.

It took almost 6 months. The time has come. You all had saved up enough money to rent a loft apartment downtown and pooled enough to last at least 3 months on your own.

At 1:00 am. All the remaining 5 Hargreeves are to ready with their backpacks to sneak out in groups, boys and girls, and meet at the rendezvous point, Giddy’s Doughnuts. There, a van would be available for them to drive to the apartment.

The boys were to go first, as to let Diego deactivate the security features of the house while Luther stands guard.

It was only supposed to take 15 minutes tops, it was 20 minutes past now. Something was wrong.

Deciding as a team to check up on the boys, you, Allison and Vanya head down to the foyer.

Upon arrival, you see Luther with his hands covering Diego’s face, Diego who seem limp as a log.

‘Luther what’s going on?’ Allison’s voice rang out beside you.

‘I’m sorry….’ He looks down unto the unconscious Diego in his arms. ‘I just… I just couldn’t.’

‘Number Eight! How could you! How could all of you! Three! Seven!’

The room seemed to turn colder by the sound of the voice. You turn and see Sir Reginald Hargreeves.

‘Dad…’

‘YOU ARE ALL A DISGRACE.’ Reginald spitted.

‘But dad!’ Luther pleaded. ‘I was the one who informed you about their plan!’

‘ENOUGH! NO MORE OF THIS FOOLISHNESS, BACK TO BED---’

‘That’s right NO MORE dad!’ Shouted Allison. She glances at dad then at Luther. A frown etched her face as she commanded. ‘I heard a rumor that you couldn’t move your legs.’

The effect was immediate. The lower half of Reginald and Luther stayed still as a rock while they tried their best to break free. But alas, Allison had the upper hand. ‘I heard a rumor you let us go freely.’ At once, both men calmed down.

And to add insult to injury. Allison focused on Reginald and rumoured ‘And you would leave Diego Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves, Vanya Hargreeves, Y/n Hargreeves and Allison Hargreeves alone.’

Luther’s betrayal felt like a stab in the back.

Moving on and creating a new life from the ground up for oneself was hard but having your siblings with you had definitely made it easier.

It took a while to get the hang of things, being 4 young adults with nothing. You missed Mom and Pogo, but you knew that they, like Luther would stick with Dad.

Vanya was the first to take up stack, she provided the finance to pay rent and groceries with the salary she would get from her violin performances at the local theatre. Soon Allison would also chip in from the money she received from her acting gigs.

Diego showed interest into joining the police academy while you wanted to get away from the lifestyle as much as possible, opted to move across the country and pursue tertiary education-because that was what normal 18-year-old do right? For once you want to be ordinary and what better way than experience what student life is all about.

Though there is one teensy detail that was hindering your application. You were home-schooled by your robot mom. There weren’t report cards or grades that any university would accept. Even if there were, you wouldn’t want to go back to that dreadful house.

Both not wanting to lose your newfound passion, you and Diego had an enormous favour to ask.

‘NO not a chance!’ Allison crossed her arms. ‘It’s unethical!’

‘Yes we know-‘ you replied.

‘But it’s the only way.’ Diego reasoned. ‘It’s not fair for y/n and I to not be able to follow our dreams and to finally FINALLY move on with our lives, Ally. While you and Vanya get to live out yours.’

You nodded along. ‘We ask you just this one thing and we’re out of your hair.’

Allison looked between you two as if to decided whether it would be worth it. ‘Fine, just this once.’ She sighs. ’And this doesn’t get out kapeesh?’ pointing her finger.

‘kapeesh.’

‘I’m gonna miss you so much!’ Vanya admitted.

You pulled both your sisters into a hug. ‘I’m miss you gals more!’

Allison wipes her tears away. ‘Don’t forget us okay? Remember we’re only a text away.’

‘Tell Diego that I’m gonna miss kicking his butt when he come back from his officer training, ye?’

Over the years you hadn’t lost touch with your family. It’s been a while since you’ve all together physically, but you do video chat every once and a while and you have a general tab on each of your siblings. Vanya is currently the 3rd chair violin at her orchestra, Diego had channelled his inner batman and believe to be a vigilante keeping the streets and public safe.

As for Klaus, Diego had told you that he hasn’t managed to keep off his ~happy place~ and had seen him in and out of nightclubs.

Allison….Well who wouldn’t know about what she’s up to. A-list celebrity with numerous critically acclaimed movies to her name, one half of Hollywood’s hottest couple and amazing role model for mothers. Ahh Claire that sweet angel, who says that you’re her favourite aunt, that smile of hers melts your heart.

The last you’ve seen of Luther is when his journey to the moon has been televised a couple of years ago. There’s been no news since.

The rattling of the gate brings you back to the present.

‘AH yes, Miss.y/n. He has been expecting you.’

‘Pogo!’ You exclaimed, wrapping him in a hug.

‘So I’m not to late then? Where’s mom?’

‘Grace is with Sir Reginald, my dear.’ Pogo leads you up the stairs.

Looking around, everything is as pristine as usual. ‘I see that nothing’s change’ You noted.

‘Yes, well I was asked to keep it as it always was.’

He opens the door to Reginald’s quarters. There on the bed was dad, looking sickly pale but still alive unlike to what you had seen in your vision.

Beside him wiping away the sweat on his forehead was mom. ‘Oh, my dear y/n I’m glad you could join us.’ She says as if years hadn’t gone by without your presence.

You reach the foot of the bed. ‘Dad…’ you begin.

But Reginald cuts you off. ‘Number Eight. Glad to see that logical and curious side of yours overrides that irrational emotive side.’ His voice weak yet still holds its signature condescending tone. ‘It is your disposition to the voice of reason and mysteries of the unknown that led you here, despite your supposed hatred towards me-‘

‘There’s no grey area, I do hate you.’

He waved his hand to dismiss your interruption.

‘As I was saying, it is of this reason- your control over the impulsiveness that is apparent to all of your siblings who lack control- is why you are my favourite.’

You scoffed.

‘It is true, my dear y/n.’

‘Oh please. You only see me as a “valuable asset”. Remember?’

Reginald nods. ‘I do, but I believe the exact words were “You would do great things Number Eight. To see into the future is a valuable asset to have indeed”. Thus, implying that your ability is the asset not you.’

‘Sure, just rub it in don’t you.’ Rolling your eyes.

‘I hope that you do too remember that also in my own words that you were and still are “the cleverest of the bunch”.’

‘So why am I here, you’re clearly not dead.’ You looked at him again. You’ve never seen your dad so fragile ever. ‘….yet. So there must be something to do with that. Perhaps find your killer?’

On the bedside table, you took note of the cup of tea and medication. Your brain is in super speed, running through ideas on what could have cause him to be so sickly.

‘It could be your meds…..’ You look up. ‘Mom who else has access to Dad’s medication?’

‘Just us dear, Pogo and I.’

‘Number Eight there is no killer. I am dying because of old age, it is quite normal for-‘

‘NO No but the mortality rate is 350 years for the species of—’

‘Ah!’ Reginald’s face showed of surprise which slowly turned into cunningest. ‘so, you know then’ He chuckled.

‘Yes.’

‘Since when?’ He asked genuinely curious.

‘When we first showed signs of powers, some of your notes were written in a language I did not recognised.’ You recalled. ‘So, I did some digging, it took a while but when I found about the secret safe under this very bed and what it contained. Everything became clearer.’

‘Very good. Y/n. Nobody knew about the safe expect myself.’ He looked over at Pogo. ‘Did you know of it?’

‘No, Sir.’ Pogo admitted. ‘Not until now.’

‘Very well indeed. You knew all this time, yet you didn’t say anything. Why?’

‘Because it didn’t matter.’ You shrugged. ‘The only thing that matter in this household was our powers.’

‘Did the others-‘

‘No, they didn’t know. I hadn’t told a soul. It is not my secret to share.’

‘And soon it will be yours.’

‘What?’

‘Number Eight, it is without a doubt my time here is limited. Perhaps as little as an hour.’

Never had you seen someone talk about their death like this. You shiver at the thought.

‘By the fact that you are here now and had seen a vision of me dead means that the block I had place on you to prevent you peering into events regarding me is failing. Failing as my health is.’

You want to be angry. How dare he supress your power. But you stand still as a rock by his confession. ‘why?’ A soft whisper was all you could muster. ‘why?’

‘Because I had to keep my real identity a secret. To prevent you from exposing me.’ He coughed. ‘But turns out, you hadn’t need to use your powers to know that, as what you’ve told me.’ He looked at you with watering eyes. ‘You found that all on your own, yet you did not disclose anything.’ He reached out for your hand to which you accept. ‘For which I am delighted that at least I can say that I have one child, a daughter to be proud of.’

A daughter to be proud of.

You would like to think that you are strong and independent. And those are true. But that small child that all that wanted was to experience a parent’s love and affection. That emotional support of that small child which you thought you had successfully tucked away came clawing its way back to the surface.

‘y/n’ You had almost missed it, wiping away your tears, you leaned closer.

‘Listen carefully….’ Your dad’s chest was barely moving. It was a struggle for him to get the following words out. ‘The end is near, get the others ……and save…..the…..tttiiiimmm’

You never head what came next. Sir Reginald Hargreeves is dead.

Under the setting sun, Reginald looked at peace.

A half moon shines brightly above the house. It had been 3 days and 7 Hours since it happened.

Exhaustion is starting to catch up with you but there is still so much to do.

News channels had broadcasted the breaking news of your father’s death.

You had personally called your siblings to deliver the news, they are to arrive tomorrow for the funeral at noon.

Luther who had been expecting to relay dad his daily report status on the space radio, cussed at you in anger-those were the first words you heard in 12 years- calmed down and said that he will be there in 3 days, in time for the funeral.

‘Sweetie, I brought you some tea.’

‘Thanks mom.’ You take a sip. ‘Hey mom did you think you’re gonna be alright now that you know…. That dad is gone?’

She runs her fingers to your hair. ‘I’m gonna be fine dear, I am stronger than you know.’

You smile at her. You just can’t help but to think what’s gonna happen to her now that your dad is gone. Pushing that thought away-like she said, I am stronger than you know.

‘Now, why don’t we get you to bed.’ She cuts you off before you can say a word. ‘Uh uh. You have done so much already. You need rest especially with the funeral in 9 hours. Pogo and I can handle the remaining task.’

‘Thanks again mom.’

She tucks you into bed. ‘Good night y/n/n. Sweet Dreams.’ She kisses the top of your head. ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too mom.’ As she leaves your room, you realised that you didn’t want to be alone. ‘Mom…’ You called out, almost childlike.

‘Yes dear.’ Grace makes her way back in.

‘Well you stay with me? Sing to me until I fall asleep?’

‘Ofcourse dear.’ She smiles, pulling up a chair beside your bed.

The lull of your mother’s voice sends you to sleep with the memories of the childhood before power. When everything was simple. When there was love in this household.

You awoke to sounds of screams and flashes of blue light. You hurry to your window, it shows the courtyard, a ball of blue chaos small black figures.

You pull on your jacket and ran downstairs, the clock in the foyer shows 11:37am. Crap you overslept! But that means…..that the figures you saw were your siblings. There are early….that’s new.

You arrived in the courtyard just as you see Klaus throws a fire extinguisher at the blue light.

‘What are you doing?!’ Shouted Luther.

‘What is that gonna do?’ Allison questioned.

‘I don’t know!!’ Klaus turned around ‘Do you have a better idea?—Oh hey y/n! Nice to see you!’ He ran over and gave you a tight hug. ‘What a family reunion ehh?’

Before you could reply, the ball of blue gave out a crackle of electricity.

‘Everyone get behind me!’ Luther pushes in front of everyone.

‘Yeah! Get behind us.’ Diego chimed in, pushing Vanya closer to you.

Vanya ignores Diego, trying to get a better look herself. ‘It looks like something is coming through!’

The ball of light exploded, the sudden burst of energy was blinding that you had to cover your eyes.

Then nothing, total darkness.

THUD. You heard Vanya scream.

‘Argh!’

The blue chaos had expelled something….someone.

Luther was the first to speak. ‘Who’s there?’

‘Show yourself!’ said Diego.

As a collective group, you walked towards the mystery person.

Your eyes go wide with shock. No it can’t be, it’s impossible. You must be seeing things.

‘Does anyone else see little Number Five, or is that just me?’ wondered Klaus.

Klaus looked around and saw that everyone showed that same face of disbelief. Pleased to know that it wasn’t the drugs, he snickered. ‘Now THIS! THIS IS WHAT I CALL A FAMILY REUNION.’

Little Five who didn’t seem to have aged a day since you last saw him,

It’s been years but seeing him looking like he did back when you last saw him, you recall the last words he had shouted at you.

‘get out of the way y/n! i don’t want to see your face anymore.’

Five looks down at himself drowned in tattered oversize clothes, wining. ‘SHIT!’

Something is wrong, something is very wrong and you know it.

No way was this all a coincidence for your father to warn you about some impending doom and have Five to reappear 17 years later. It must be related somehow…What’s next you thought……For Ben to come back to life too?

END OF PART 2

READ: [PART 1] [PART 3] [PART 4]

Taglist [All]: @gruffle1

Taglist [TUA]:@herecomesthesun1969 @alabaster1223 @ultraviolet-m @winterierwriter @lordofthunderthr @grapesauze @xbarrjallenx @white-wolf-buckaroo @yoheyyosup @infinitystones2018 @94seun @buckynatlarry @thegirlwholikestomanythings @just-some-stars @97yrm @2cuteforyourlies @e-bendy @criminallyhamilton @aqarath @change-the-world-someday @sambucky8 @spankin-soda @big-galaxy-chaos @cosmichellfire

Feel free to tell me to you want to be tagged for the series or for all/any other of my fics.

Would love to hear your opinion on the series so far too!

236 notes · View notes

oceansviolin · 5 years ago

Photo

SERAPHINE CURRY + WC / TASK001

( drowning mention tw/ )

1. you know who [SERAPHINE CURRY] wants to see around new york? [UTP] their [CHILDHOOD CRUSH] who is [19-23] years old. [YOU DON’T HAVE TO] contact them at [oceansviolin] ( drowning tw / heavily inspired by the little mermaid. following someone who would have fallen into the water/got pulled out to sea and eventually saved and resuscitated by seraphine. although seraphine developed a crush, she kept this mostly to herself and rarely tried to contact the other person. ) [ INSPO. ]

2. you know who [SERAPHINE CURRY] wants to see around new york? [UTP] their [SLOW BURN ROMANCE] who is [19-23] years old. [YOU DON’T HAVE TO] contact them at [oceansviolin] ( very much a seen as ‘fated’ couple that just seem to fit together seamlessly. the yang to seraphine’s ying, most likely, seraphine’s muse for her current strain of art work so expect a lot of fuckn drawing. ) [ INSPO. ]

3. you know who [SERAPHINE CURRY] wants to see around new york? [UTP] their [ROOMMATE] who is [19-23] years old. [YOU DON’T HAVE TO] contact them at [oceansviolin] ( roommate and probable best friend ; the one person who has common sense and shares like 4 braincells with seraphine. constantly up to the dumbest shit, and often ends up being seraphine’s cultural interpreter and has to put up with someone who doesn’t know how to wash dishes or what a mcdonalds is. ) [ INSPO. ]

#unstoppable;task001 #yes i have had these wc written 4 a week and just took this long bc i wanted a graphic what about it.#drowning tw/

0 notes

scandeniall · 5 years ago

Text

mirrors for friends ch //4

pairing: TBD x reader

| prev | next | masterlist

wc: 2338

during songs: reader is normal text, atsumu is italicized and bold denotes them singing together

Ch 4 New Tattoos and Dates

The bell above the door rang signaling a visitor to the tattoo shop. Iwaizumi didn’t pay it much attention as he continued setting up his station, one earbud in. If it were some walk in, he had no doubt that one of the other artists would take it and he didn’t have any scheduled appointments. It was an average Wednesday afternoon. Very few walk-ins during the middle of a workday, and he had 2 appointments which had been done earlier, and a consultation in the early evening. The call of his name by the shop's receptionist, caused him to halt. Looking at the cause of his disturbance he was met with the familiar face of his friend and lead singer of his band. After a quick thanks and greeting, Iwaizumi led the girl towards the back of the shop, to his station.

“So what’s up (Y/N).” Iwaizumi had, texted you earlier in the day, to confirm whether or not you two were still in for a quick session. He’d also checked if you were interested in color so that he could be as close to set up as possible for when you arrived. He knew it wouldn’t be too long, or else you wouldn’t have made the trip during your lunch break.

“Well obviously I want a tattoo,” you murmured, shuffling through your tote bag for something. You heard Iwaizumi restate obviously, before he went to get a new box of gloves from the back room. By the time he had come back you found what you were looking for and handed him a sheet of paper that had been folded at least 10 times. “I want this.”

You watched as your friend traced his fingers over the lines of the worn paper. “It’s pretty. Did-“

“Yeah. He did,” you cut your friend off confirming his suspicion on who drew the design. “He did it a few months ago. And the way things are now, I just wanted to finally get it on me. So I could quit walking around with the paper, y’know.” Iwaizumi nodded in response, before pulling you into a hug. “How’s he doing,” he whispered, pulling away just enough to look at you. “Same as usual.” The sad smile on your face caused an uncomfortable pain in his own chest. “But hey, at least things aren’t getting worse. Now stop going all soft on me, I’m tryna get tatted.” Your voice didn’t have its usual lilt present when teasin, but nonetheless Iwaizumi pulled away after placing a light kiss on your temple. “You know we’re here for you,” Iwaizumi felt the need to remind you and with that you slightly returned to normal. “Yes dad I know. Now c’mon I only have an hour.” Unbuttoning your shirt, you relaxed on the cushioned table.

The needle buzzing was like music to your ears. You’d laid quietly on your side, scrolling through your phone as your friend bent over you, bringing the picture to life. The stinging on your side wasn’t too bad. You'd been able to do that until he got to the part of your tattoo that came on your inner rib cage. Your flinching hadn’t gone unnoticed by your friend. “How you holding up. This area hurts like a bitch.” You hummed in response before telling him to distract you.

“Well I’m going on a date this weekend after practice,” Iwaizumi said pausing to dip more ink.

“The Iwaizumi Hajime is going on a date. Dude how long has it been.”

“You’re annoying. It hasn’t been that long you know.”

“It’s been like 3 years dude. But you’re better than the rest of us I suppose. Our band is literally full of failures in love.” You laugh before wincing. Iwaizumi offers a quick apology before agreeing with you. He was the member that went on the least number of dates, mostly due to not wanting to deal with the games and drama that came with dating in your 20s. Iwaizumi had always held some sentiment of not wanting to waste his time, but that seemed to only grow stronger the older he got.

The man remembers his only serious and long term relationship years ago. He met her at 17, the two dating for 4 whole years. Years that turned out to be a waste of his time. He’d ended up getting sent pictures of his girlfriend cheating on him. Her and the guy were cuddled up kissing and seeming very much in love right in the middle of a park. The guy was completely opposite of him. Once he confronted the girl about it she told him that he was too rigid for her. Too made of steel and rough around the edges. He was more outgoing and extroverted and everything Iwaizumi wasn’t. He wore the type of clothes Iwaizumi would cringe at but wore anyway to make the girl happy. The new guy didn’t have any tattoos or any ear piercings and apparently the two of them just clicked. At the time of the breakup the artist had been in the early stages of his friendships with you and Kuroo around that time, and the two of you helped him deal with his heartbreak through writing.

The three of you crafted one of the songs that the band still played often. If You Can’t Hang. It was written before you had even met Atsumu, let alone became a band. It was the first time Iwaizumi had gotten into song writing, and that first song is still being played by you all.

“She came in for a tattoo a few weeks ago. We’ve been texting since.” You hum in acknowledgement, as he put the finishing touches. The minute you felt the fmailr coolness of foam hit your skin, you locked your phone. “All done, come take a look.” You took your friends hand as he walked you towards his mirror. Maneuvering the button up blouse, you looked at the art, a gasp escaping your mouth. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.” While you were usually better with words, your friend knew that this time was different. He carefully examined your posture, to make sure you were really ok, before you turned to face him.

The sincerity in your eyes whenever you allowed Iwaizumi to tattoo you never failed to put a smile on his face. While this wasn't the first tattoo he’d given you (you insisted on never going to another artist since you and Kuroo met him all those years ago), this one is now your most personal one to date. He knew it, and you trusted him. “Anytime kid,” he replied, now covering the new art with plastic. “You're only a year older, Iwa.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you buttoned up your shirt. “Yet, I’ve become a dad to three brats. I know you have to go, so let's get you all checked out.”

You paid and then started your trek back to work, pulling up the band group chat:

‘Just got tatted ;)’ Attached was a photo of your new tattoo. Three wildflowers whose stems overlapped to resemble a bouquet. A budding rose, a peony and a gardenia, whose stems had small buds coming out of them. You laughed at the reactions from your friends. Atsumu uses a sickening amount of emojis to hype you.

‘Damn (Y/N).’

A minute later you opened up your individual texts with Kuroo to see his response to the new ink.

‘Just let me know when, and I’m there.’

----

You eyed the time on your phone before glancing back towards your drummer who had been typing away at his phone. When you caught his eye you gave a knowing nod. His date was tonight, and he hadn’t mentioned it to any of the other two boys chatting away. It was nearing 8pm, around the time you guys usually stopped for the night. You all had time to practice 1 more song.

“Hey how do you guys feel about running Agree to Disagree again. I wanna try the guitar backing for Kuroo again. Then let's call it a night?” The rounds of approval caused you to go pick up your own guitar. “Yo (Y/N) we doing version 1 or 2,” Atsumu asked excitedly. Considering this song was largely written by him, it was one of his favorites. You had to admit, it was a fun song as well. If Kuroo was your meaningful genius, and Iwaizumi the heartbreak specialist, Atsumu’s songs were fun.

Agree to Disagree absolutely screamed Atsumu. It was smooth, and cocky just like him. His bass in the song was also insane. It was him in a song, and that showed whenever you guys played that song. You remember when you first heard the lyrics in the first verse about him not having time for anyone other than himself. You’d teased him about the fact that at least he was self aware. This song was also one of the only where you, Atsumu, and Kuroo all did some vocal work. Kuroo being on the bridge had been due to the fact that he helped Atsumu write the song and that the two of them didn’t know what else to do for the end.

The differences in the song versions were whether you backed Atsumu more or if he backed you more. The two of you also went back and forth more creating for what felt like a more energetic and dynamic version of the song on 2. After thinking about your attempt at guitar in this song, which you didn’t do too often, you felt confident in your choice. “Fuck it, lets do version 2. All in boys” You high fived your bassist as you heard Iwaizumi count you all down and Kuroo strums the first chords.

Maybe I should care a little more about what everybody thinks But I just don't have the time for nobody but me The mood I'm in keeps changing like the weather So you can keep the sun 'cause I like the night time better You think you're better than me? You don't like what you see? I think it's best we agree to disagree

You’d picked up the guitar backing easily this time around, and felt comfortable enough to start engaging with your bandmates. The second half of the chorus you’d made your way over to Atsumu, leaning so that you were sharing his microphone.

I'm doing fine by myself I never asked for your help I think it's best we agree to disagree

I wear my heart on my sleeve like a worn-out sweater But with a needle and some thread, I've been keeping it together Life's too short to be worried 'bout whatever So you keep shining in the sun, but I like the night time better

The ending of the song was met with high fives all around. “You did good (Y/N). Think we’re ready to take that version live.” Kuroo complimented you, taking the guitar you handed him before running your arm across your sweaty forehead. “Thanks dude. Maybe. That felt good. What’d you think Tsumu?” You were meant with a sweaty body throwing himself at you, to which you cringed.

“Hell yeah. Stop pushing me away, I’m tryna love ya.”

“Iwa, get him off of me.” You managed to push the younger boy off, but not before the oldest member told you that you were out of luck. The 4 of you cleaned up, 3 of you grabbing your instruments and their cases, as you all made your way to Iwaizumi’s front door. “Samu’s going out tonight any of ya wanna join?” Iwaizumi made some excuse about wanting to clean up, causing you to laugh at the lie. You looked at Kuroo who shook his head. “Can’t man. Got an early meeting tomorrow for this project. I need my beauty sleep.”

“Too bad your beauty sleep doesn’t do shit for your hair.”

“Says the old man, turning down a night out to clean up.” Kuroo yawns, being the first one to head outside the rest of you following. He reaches for your guitar case, now holding them both before nodding towards your car. “I took the motorcycle tonight.” He spoke, forcing your attention to the bike, his mother had gifted him once he graduated college. “I just had Iwa stop by my place earlier and pick it up. Anyways, I’ll see you guys tomorrow. We’re filming a youtube video right?” At your confirmation, Kuroo nodded before placing both instruments in your back seat. He gave the three of you a last wave, before riding off.

“I’m down to go out. Just let me head home first to shower. I miss Samu anyways.”

The bassist nods, typing a message, presumably to Osamu. “I can pick you up, just text me when you're ready.” You groan, causing him to shoot you an annoyed glance. “Dude, that means I’m gonna have to sit in your backseat while you take your hookup home.”

“That hasn’t happened in years. Besides, I’m too tired to pick up someone tonight. Just tryna get a drink or two and hang out.” Your reluctant agreeing, causes the bassist to head off, He bids Iwaizumi a goodbye, and promises to see you in a few.

“Has it really been years, since he pulled that?” Iwaizumi’s question causes you to laugh. He knew the three of you well enough to know that saying years was probably a stretch. “It's been maybe a year. But this time, I won’t have you or Kuroo to call.”

“You’ll be fine. Text me what bar you guys go to so I go anywhere but there. Be safe tonight, and tell Osamu I said hello.” You give the man a nod and a thumbs up before walking to your own car. You notice he watches as you get in the vehicle and roll your window down to yell out. “Good luck on the date. Go get us a real band mom!”

a/n: whew yes i am finally on plot track now. Also remember because i dont know which guy this is gonna be (only because i love my ideas for them all) for I take any and all suggestions. Anyways, the link is the exact tattoo and placement bc its cute to me. I’ve honestly had this written for at least 2 days now but i dont want to seem like im posting too much? BUT Let the plot commence now!

taglist: @o51oc

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #iwaizumi x reader #atsumu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu imagine #kuroo x reader #mirrors for friends

18 notes · View notes

hilllsnholland · 5 years ago

Text

Paper Airplanes

Pairing: College!Tom x College!Y/N

Wc: 2kish

Warnings: swearing and tooth-rotting fluff :)

Summary: You know all those cliches in movies? yeah well, this oneshot is full of them. So...check yes Juliet?

There were many things on your to-do list today. Homework, filing papers, possibly getting lunch if you had time (which you did not). On your long list of things, getting hit in the eye with a paper airplane was not one of them. Your hand went up to feel the sensitive hit while the projectile fell into your lap. Luckily it didn’t hit your actual cornea, just the lid, but fuck that hurt. You looked around the office/lounge area to see who was the assailant, only to see Tom.

“For fuck sakes Tom,” You whine and throw the plane back at him.

“Sorry love, I just wanted your attention.” He laughs and picks the plane right out of the sky. “Need someone to keep your company?”

He signaled to the very barren student lounge/event office space that you were currently in charge of. You had taken the job as a ‘student event assistant’ last semester, which basically meant you made posters for Uni events, in charge of student activity sign-ups, paperwork, and most important taking ID pictures. It was a very laidback job though, your desk sitting in the student lounge which was usually quiet. Most of your time was consumed getting homework done or watching Hulu.

“As long as nothing else comes at my face,”

“I can’t-“

“Holland, I swear to God.” You narrow your eyes and he laughs.

“You know me too well Y/N,”

Tom says as he knocks on the locked door of your desk area. Your desk was positioned in a smaller office room that was open to the lounge. It was easy access for you to talk to other students or for others to ask questions. Mainly it was a nuisance to walk around your desk and through the door, but you dealt with it. Tom grabbed a chair next to your desk and leaned back, feet propped up on your physics textbook as he relaxed.

You rolled your eyes, shifting his feet off your books and placing them on the free area next to them. It took some time to get used to Tom’s pestering nature, but after meeting him last semester it became a fond friendship. Tom had come to the event office to ask if he could publish posters for his brother’s movie festival. You agreed and he went straight to playfully flirt with you. Nothing had happened though, which you were trying to not mind. Although his presence made your heart thump and palms sweat, you didn’t want to jump into some puppy dog love.

“Who do you have for physics?”

“Watanabe,”

“Yikes. Good luck with that babes,” Tom flips through the book and raises his brow at you. “So, what time are you off?”

You turn your clock towards you and saw it was 4:15. Forty-five minutes until freedom, and by that you mean watching your shows while eating pizza bites.

“I get off at five,” You spin in your chair and Tom stops you with his foot.

“You got plans?”

“Do I ever?”

Tom snickers and moves your chair between his legs, your feet bouncing off his. He bites his lip and looks beyond you. For a second you thought you were going to explode. Was Tom going to ask you out? Not only would that complete every dream and wish you’ve had ever, that would also give you something to do besides self-indulge. Tom stands up suddenly and looks down at you with that shit-eating grin he always has.

“Can you retake my ID picture?”

“What?” You furrow your eyebrows and Tom shrugs.

“I lost my ID. Help a boy out,” He whines while grabbing the sides of your face. “I’ll make it worth your wild.”

You feign a sighed ‘fine’ as you turn on the ID machine. Tom hops over the waist height counter and stands in front of the small white backdrop. You spin your seat around and play with the settings until it’s not a fuzzy mess of Tom’s face.

“Hold on,” Tom fumbles with his pockets until he pulls out a pair of circular black glasses.

Fuck, as if he couldn’t get any cuter. Your face is flushed as he adjusts them on his face. The frames are big but they make his brown eyes sparkle behind the glass. No way could they be real, he’s just toying with you at this point. Tom rubs his lips together, sliding his tongue between the pink lines and smirking at you. He knows he looks like a whole meal. Your mind wanders. It’s getting really hot all of sudden. Now all you can think of is how his glasses would look perched upon your-

“Nose?”

“Huh?”

“I said, do these glasses look too big for my nose?” Tom squints his eyes at you and you laugh off the lustful thoughts.

“No, no you look good. Why do you want to wear glasses in your ID though?”

“I want to look studious,” He states as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

A flat ‘hmph’ leaves your lips as you raise three fingers in the air. Tom relaxes and shines that perfect smile towards the camera lens. You count down and click the camera to snap the most perfect photo you’ve ever seen. Tom can’t take a bad picture, can he? This sappy crush you have is becoming a little obsessive because now you can’t stop staring at his beautiful face. The machine chucks out the new ID and you hand it to him.

“Picture perfect,” He muses and pulls out his wallet. “I also wanted to wear the glasses to see you get all red,”

Your chair spins in his direction and you throw a pen at him. It misses by an inch, flying past his ear as he laughs at you. Tom leans on the counter, picking the paper airplane that he threw before. He plays with it, moving the nose across the desk until it’s running past your hand that’s sitting on the computer keys. He pretends to trace your hand with the makeshift toy, humming to himself.

“So we’re going to go eat after or?” Tom hums with that stupid twinkle in his eye.

“Sure, you want to go to the usual?”

Main Street. It was a small, hole in the wall place in the downtown district near the Uni. They had the best sandwiches. Tom brought you there one evening after a job fair at school. You remembered it so vividly, down to where he carved your name into the window sill by your signature spot. Tom nods and drops the paper airplane back on the desk. He has been so fixated on that damn toy since he walked in here. It was close to driving you mad.

“Are you going to recycle that or?”

“Please. Y/N, I’ve been waiting for you to open the airplane since I got here.” Tom states in almost a watery tone. He was pleading to you with his eyes. “I’m dying here Y/N,”

Tom was riled up, now pacing back and forth in front of you. No wonder he was acting so strange, whatever was in the airplane had him going crazy. His excitement, or dread, was causing his mood shifts which were more than usual. You grab the airplane and unraveled it from its original form. Every unfolded layer made you nervous. What the hell did he put in here that’s making him so jumpy? You see words appear on the page and with one final crease, it shows a small note.

Dear Y/N,

Be my girlfriend and fly away with me?

At the bottom of the page it has two large boxes with ‘yes’ and ‘no’ written next to them. Tom’s signature was below that, his bubbly and perfect handwriting made it official. You didn’t respond. Was this a joke? Like, was Tom Holland really asking you out with a note?

“Are you serious?” You laugh

Tom doesn’t react. He’s biting down on his lip and waiting for you to give him a real answer. His palms are sweating. This was the only way he could find the words to say anything. He was a little oblivious, he needed to see it in writing because words made him lost. You look at him and he seems to be getting disheartened.

“Tom-“

“Hey it’s okay,” Tom grabs the paper and tries to stuff it into his pocket.

“Tom-“

“No, it’s alright. I’ll see you around,”

Tom grabs his stuff quickly and rushes out the door. You stood there feeling stupid. You laughed at him for Christ sakes! But in your defense, it seemed like a joke Tom would make. His face though, you saw the crushed look upon his face. He was gutted. You look to the clock, 4:45. Fuck it. Executive order, you were done with work and now you had to make things right.

Tom sat in the dimly lit restaurant, stirring a cup of tea with a little wooden stick. His heart felt heavy, his mind was cluttered with antagonizing thoughts. He felt stupid. After days, maybe weeks, of trying to say something to Y/N, he wrote a stupid fucking note? What kind of grade school shit is that? Tom didn’t even touch his sandwich. He felt physically ill.

His fingers brush over your name that was carved into the window sill. God, it took forever to write it into the wood. He tried a pen, knife, and keys. Took all of dinner but it happened. Your name forever carved into one of his favorite places. Tom couldn’t be mad at you. Your name sparked that light feeling in his chest. Like his heart was flying. It was dumb though, a stupid puppy dog crush. His eyes fixated on his uneaten food until something poked his nose. It didn’t hurt but it was blunt, something scratchy. A poorly made paper airplane fell on top of his Mediterranean sandwich. He looks up and sees you standing there, hands behind your back like you’ve done something wrong.

“Y/N, you don’t-“

“Come on Tom, open it.” You whine and take the seat in front of him. “I’m dying here,” You mimic.

Tom gulps hard, opening the airplane folds nervously. You were not a master of paper folding at all. The nose of your airplane was bent before it hit Tom’s nose and the creases were all wrong. But it got to its destination and that’s all that mattered. Tom unfolded it and saw your beautiful handwriting scribbled across the paper.

Dear Tom,

Sorry for being an ass. Do you forgive me? (Checking yes means you’re my boyfriend so choose carefully)

Tom scans the bottom where there are two boxes. Both had the word ‘yes’ next to them, leading him with no ultimatum. He laughs, grabbing his pen and creating a new box. You sit back, still unsure if he was mad that you disregarded his note from before. Tom turns the note around and you see the new box says, ‘Definitely you div’.

“So I’m the div huh?” You giggle while leaning close over the table. “You’re the one using primary school ways to win my heart,”

“It worked didn’t it?” Tom wiggles an eyebrow at you, his lips looking delectable.

“Why don’t you come over here and see,”

Tom lifts himself slightly out of the chair to meet your lips. His one hand cupped your cheek while the other moved across your carved name on the window sill. You were trying to not completely burst into a fit of laughter. You were out of this world happy, even it was full of cliches. But maybe that was the thing about puppy love. It’s pure and full of gestures of admiration. All reservations aside, you were now falling fast into that ‘puppy dog love’.

Tom’s lips are better than you could ever imagine. It was the thing you see in movies, that true love’s kiss or whatever. It felt right? It felt better than right, it felt like the most amazing thing you could besides looking at Tom’s beautiful face. And boy, did he feel the same way. All those days worrying about what to say paid off. He finally got to kiss the girl of his dreams. Your cute little gasps against his lips. The way your hand carresses his so softly. This was better than any dream he ever had.

“Worked pretty well, huh?” Tom leans his forehead against yours, pecking smaller kisses to your lips.

“Shut it Holland,” You kiss him again. “Don’t make me write a breakup airplane,”

#Tom Holland imagines #Tom Holland imagine #Tom Holland fluff #Tom Holland blurbs #Tom Holland fics #Tom Holland x reader #Tom Holland x you #Tom Holland fanfic #tom holland

445 notes · View notes

ajax-b1ue · 6 years ago

Text

Suspension of Disbelief: Ch 3

2018 Big Bang Fic Challenge Submission Amazing Artist, Big Bang Partner, and Header Creator: @ahoardofsides TW: Villainous Deceit, angst, manipulation, gaslighting, self-deprecation, self-harm, anxiety attack, violence, blood, attempted murder Pairings: Platonic LAMP WC: 1761

( Master | AO3 | 1 | 2 | Chapter 3: Two Noble Kinsmen | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 )

By the time Roman was finally ready to declare himself done, it was morning, he was exhausted, and all of the anger he had felt yesterday had burned away, leaving guilt in its place.

He wasn’t eager to face the others again so soon. But, feeling as though they were never going to be able to move past all of this until he could give them something to work with, Roman decided to grit his teeth and bear it.

And so, Roman made his way back out to the common area where the others were having a quiet breakfast. They immediately took notice of him, but also exchanged glances with each other. Roman avoided eye contact, as well as speaking with any of them

Patton still tried to greet him. “Hey, Roman! How’re you doing this morning?” The moral side tilted his head, eyebrows going up. “…Feeling a little better today?”

Roman simply placed the parchment bearing his work on the table. He then turned and walked to the hall— and the second he was out of sight around the corner, he sank out, retreating to his room again.

At least it was done. Nothing to do now but wait— he’d have to deal with the other sides later, but, that was later. In the meantime, Roman was finally going to get some rest.

Roman reappeared in his room, and was only mildly surprised to find that Deceit wasn’t there. Then again, the other side seemed to be irritatingly good at knowing precisely when Roman was trying to work on something, because he only ever seemed to show up then. Roman wasn’t about to complain, though, as he pulled off his sash and coat, and collapsed into his bed.

A knock at his door woke Roman some time later. He was bleary and confused for a few seconds; the only visitor he’d had in recent memory was Deceit, and he just showed up.

The knock repeated. Roman drug himself up from his bed and over to the door, hauling it open to find Logan standing there.

Roman blinked several times, still trying to clear the sleep from his eyes. “Logan?” he asked, almost incredulous.

“…Yes.” The logical side shifted in place.

“What are you doing here?”

Logan held up a familiar piece of paper. “This.”

Roman eyed the parchment bearing his idea— and the red handwriting on it that was entirely new— then Logan, who still watched him uncertainly. “You couldn’t wait until I had woken up to come offer your critique?” Roman asked, peevish.

Logan blinked, then adjusted his glasses. “Ah, no, that wasn’t… I apologize,” he offered awkwardly. “I didn’t realize you had gone back to sleep. And,” Logan went on, “while it could use a little polishing, yes… I actually wanted to tell you, I thinks it’s good.” He proffered the paper to Roman. “You did good work.”

Roman’s eyes flicked down to the paper in Logan’s hand again, and the red ink written on it— all over it.

A ‘little polishing’.

Roman’s gaze went back up to Logan. The logical side shifted uncomfortably again. “Thank you for your approval,” Roman offered flatly, before closing the door and turning to flop back on his bed.

Logan was left standing there, recoiling slightly to avoid getting the door shut into his face.

He wasn’t entirely sure how to interpret Roman’s behavior. …He didn’t slam the door on him. And he actually spoke to Logan, so the logical side supposed it was an improvement from the previous day.

It wasn’t entirely unreasonable that part of Roman’s current demeanor might have been caused by lack of sleep, Logan reflected, since it seemed he had apparently stayed up all night to finish his work. But Logan couldn’t honestly accept that Roman’s less than enthusiastic reception of him was entirely motivated by sleep deprivation.

Logan knew that they’d been at odds for a while now, with the previous day’s blow up seeming to be the culmination of that… But that was a large part of why Logan had chosen to visit Roman in his room. He was uncomfortably aware that his criticism of Roman’s work ethic had not been entirely fair or called for, and clearly the creative side had been under increasing stress. And while he’d only read it over once so far, he did truly think Roman’s idea was a good one— though he had no idea where they were going to get a forklift.

Knowing how much Roman thrived on positive feedback, and how isolated he’d kept himself the past few weeks… and acutely aware that he was at least partly to blame for that… it had seemed like the ideal time to reach out and try to make amends, even if it wasn’t something Logan had much experience at.

But Logan was forced to admit, staring at Roman’s closed door, perhaps… Roman simply wasn’t ready. And it was frustrating, to feel like there was nothing he could do or a way for him to better understand.

Sighing quietly, Logan turned away. He supposed it would be worth discussing with Patton. Maybe he wasn’t the best at understanding or dealing with emotions, but Roman’s behavior couldn’t be healthy, and leaving him to it sounded even worse. In the meantime— he held up the piece of paper.

If nothing else, Logan could use this time to go over Roman’s idea again and actually sit down and proofread it. Helping Thomas get started on his next project could only help to ease the tension they were all experiencing right now.

Roman tried to return to sleep, but was too listless to really rest. He eventually gave up and instead tried to figure out what to do with his day.

Still laying in bed, he stared at his desk, having absolutely no desire to return to it. And why should he? He’d been slaving away trying to come up with some workable idea for who knew how long now.

More unexpected knocking at his door made Roman glare and let out an inarticulate sound. Another knock had him growling, “Go away, Logan.”

“It’s Patton,” was the muffled reply. “Can I come in?”

“…It’s unlocked,” Roman finally grumbled, still not getting up.

Patton ducked his head in. “Hey, kiddo.” He let himself in, carrying a tray with what appeared to be lunch on it. “I know you didn’t eat breakfast, and you’ve been skipping a lot of meals lately.”

“We don’t need to eat, Patton,” Roman reminded him wearily.

Patton set the tray down at Roman’s abandoned desk, then came to sit on the side of his bed. The princely side reluctantly pushed himself up into a sitting position, not yet speaking. He knew he owed Patton an apology, but like his writing, the words just wouldn’t come.

But, Roman seriously doubted that was why Patton had visited. The question he was expecting (and dreading) was, ‘Are you okay?’, but surprisingly, it never came.

“What’s your plan for the day?” Patton asked instead, watching Roman closely.

Roman looked over at his desk and gave a low groan. Patton’s forehead wrinkled and he cocked his head. The fatherly side’s look of concern made Roman sigh, and after a moment, he relented. “I am… unenthused… with the idea of doing any more creative work today.”

“…Then don’t.”

“…What?”

Patton shrugged. “Seems like you’ve been working yourself to death for a while now. I think you’ve earned a day off. When’s the last time you’ve scaled a castle, or fought a dragon-witch, or rescued a handsome prince?”

Roman snorted. “One generally rescues princesses,” he returned. Patton gave him a dubious look. “…Yeah, okay, it’s been princes.” Patton’s mouth pulled to one side in a lopsided smile, and despite himself, Roman couldn’t help but return it.

After some deliberation, Roman had to admit, Patton’s suggestion sounded… nice. Very nice. Just spending the day in one of the fantasy scenarios he’d created in Thomas’s imagination, not having to worry about coming up with something original, or deadlines…

Roman realized that he was smiling even wider, and that cinched it for him. “You know what, padre? That’s an excellent suggestion, and I’m going to take it. Thank you,” he added, inclining his head.

He was rewarded with a fond smile. “Of course. Hey— do you want any company?” Patton asked. “Or, would you rather take the day for yourself?”

Roman hesitated; he knew full well that Patton was trying to reach out to him, and rebuild what had been broken between himself and the other sides, but… As selfish as it was, he really just wanted a day to enjoy himself, without any awkwardness or judgment or unpleasant confrontations.

Patton’s expression became an understanding smile at Roman’s hesitation. He just patted the creative side’s leg, bidding him, “Have a good time. And if you need us for anything, you know where to find us.”

“I do,” Roman assured him. Then, as Patton pushed himself up and made to leave, he started, “Wait, Patton—” The other side paused at his door, turning back to face Roman. Roman chewed on his lip for a moment, then sighed. “…I’m sorry.”

Patton’s expression melted into the warmest smile Roman could recall ever seeing on the moral side’s face, and the corners of his eyes crinkled.

Then he winked. “Nice to meet you, sorry! I’m Dad!”

Roman snorted, ducking and shaking his head, and Patton let himself out, chuckling.

Roman’s adventure into the imagination ended up stretching the entire day, and he found himself far more relaxed at the end of it; he was bone tired, but in a good way. He even found that he was feeling… more himself, his spirits somewhat lifted, and was actually wearing a smile as he announced his return to the mindscape.

“Dear friends and fellow citizens of Thomas’s mind— I return to you, victorious!”

“You were gone?”

Roman froze, his good mood punctured.

Virgil sat on the couch, headphones on, eyes glued to his phone. He didn’t bother to look up at Roman, who tried to ignore the sting and instead walked to the kitchen. As he left the room, Virgil’s quiet voice followed him: “Should have known— things were actually peaceful around here for once.”

Roman stood stiffly, refusing to react, but his whole frame was tense.

When he finally turned to leave, he could see Virgil, still sitting there, staring at his phone and acting like nothing happened.

Roman sank out silently, returning to his room to fall into a numb sleep.

#suspension of disbelief #ts fanfiction #sanders sides #roman sanders #deceit sanders #angst #big bang

35 notes · View notes

thespace-dragon · 8 years ago

Note

Psst you got any good sick or injured Keith fic recs?

OK! finally getting around to answering this. sorry it took so long but ive like literally had to go through all of my bookmarks to find some, and even then the ones im about to rec are pretty loose on the sick/injured Keith.

Needless to say, theres lots of angst, some have happy endings, some dont. Ill add the warnings in for each rec

Finding Home by spacegaykogane

Warnings: N/ASummary: After the wormhole collapses, Keith finds himself stranded on a strange planet. Alone. Until Lance comes along.With their lions dead and resources limited, Keith and Lance need to put aside their differences and work together to get home.Wherever that may be, now.WC: 26966 (6/6)General Notes: Its the typical fic of Lance and Keith getting stranded on a planet post s1 wormhole collapse. From what i remember its told mostly through Keith’s pov and I enjoyed it for all its worth. 7/10

we’ll make it, you and me by asexualrey

Warnings: Major character injurySummary: "Keith, if we make it out of this alive, I'm going to kiss you." WC: 6421General Notes: I really wish i remembered more of this one, i can only tell you that it was good. Lance is the one that ends up hurt the most, but like both of them are pretty beat up. 8/10

The Six Gun Sound (Our Claim to Fame) by Mytay

Warning: N/ASummary: “We’re not robbing the bank of the biggest crime lord here, Lance. Do you have a death wish?!”“Let’s just do our damn best to not die. I am too gorgeous to expire this early, dude — I haven’t even hit my prime yet.”Six weeks after crashing landing on this miserable world, the Red and Blue Paladins are on the verge of losing everything. This is how Lance and Keith turned it all around and earned their badass reputation as The Two McClains: Mercenaries That Get The Job Done.WC: 13181General Notes: They both get pretty scuffed up in this one, and its more of that dynamic duo action. i really love these two as space mercenaries/pirates. 8/10

Keith’s Scar by 61feathers

Warning: N/ASummary:Keith and Lance comfort each other later after Keith tells everyone he is Galra.Lance didn't get the chance to tell Keith his scar is actually really sexy though.WC: 1134General Notes: Short and sweet post ep8. You know that shoulder injury he gets, all about that. 8/10

all we have to do by akinghtley

Warning: N/ASummary: Keith gets hurt during a mission, and Lance is not sure how to handle that.Lance wakes up on the floor outside of the medical bay, jerking wildly, body a mess of aches and twinges.WC: 19418General Notes: summary pretty tells all there is to this fic, and its pretty much all this, and Lance not knowing what to do with himself really. I loved it. 9/10

Don’t Forget to Remember Me by CamelotQueen

Warning: N/ASummary: Keith recognizes him immediately. Alarm bells go off in his head. This person is important, he thinks. He wishes he could remember.“Keith!” he exclaims, “Look who’s finally awake. How are you feeling today?”Keith falters. His mind is working a mile a minute trying to recall this person’s name, what he is to him.“Um… who are you?” he asks dumbly. He immediately regrets it._______Keith suffers from dissociative amnesia.WC: 4107General Notes: a;sdkjgnasah this fic, holy shit, keith with amneisia kills me. my heart hurt the whole time, ust ughhhh. He’s not necessarily hurt but Lance is there taking care of him and boy, the domestic life suits them, but damn does it hurt. 10/10

Homecoming by Thesis

Warnings: Major Character DeathSummary: Two deaths and one funeral. Keith has trouble readjusting to Earth and Lance has trouble dealing with Keith. WC: 9845General Notes: I’m emotional over this still and i havent read it in forever ok/ thats all i gotta say. 9/10

bruises by Chaosandthecalm

Warning: N/ASummary: "Show me how much you hate me.”Keith wants to know what Lance's problem is. The answer might surprise him.WC: 3632 (3/3)General Notes: Boys being boys and being idiots. What can you do. 7/10

Of booty shorts and Injuries by Queerklancing

Warning: N/ASummary: Keith is sure that he’s having a heart attack. Or that he hurt his brain when he fell earlier. Because it’s simply not possible that the boy who’s sitting next to him is not a hallucination. How could someone so gorgeous just sit in an emergency room at night?"Keith and Lance unexpectantly meet at the emergency room in the middle of the night.WC: 23862 (4/4)General Notes: lmao this one is great, def not as heavy as the others, but both of these doofuses get injured. keith is a hockey player and lance has legs for days. enjoy. 10/10

Prison Bonds by GriffinRose

Warning: N/ASummary: Keith and Lance are captured and stuck in a cell together, but it's not the Galra. They almost wish it was. These Cordalians feed off of emotions, and their favorite emotion is sadness. Worse, they've found a way to make their victims relive their worst memories to make that pain fresh again, and Keith has a lot of terrible memories he'd rather not relive.WC: 18925 (8/8)General Notes: just read it. please. 10/10

Heroes by battleshidge/Amiria_Raven

Warning: Graphic Depictions of ViolenceSummary: “My mom always hated the Garrison and what we were supposed to do there. I never got it. How can you despise the idea of being a hero?” Lance laughed a little here, dryly. “But I think I understand now.”He took a shuddering breath.“Because heroes aren’t meant to survive,” he choked, and then buried his face as the tears started falling again.WC: 8463General Notes: askgjnafbab, lance breaking down in this fic hurt my heart. 8/10

of florists and tennis shoes by venpast

Warning: N/ASummary: 'Lance wasn’t sure if he’d imagined the brief tremble at the corner of Keith’s lips or not, that slight stutter that promised a smile. But before he could guess further, Keith gave his knee a shove and got to his feet. He reached out to him, “I’m done here, and I’ve still got some daisies to sell you.”“Yeah,” Lance agreed, looking down at the extended palm, noting the little Saturn tattoo on the inside of Keith’s wrist where the sleeve hiked. He took the hand, “better not overprice those too, you asshole.”'(in which lance is a broke university student trying to impress a pretty girl with flowers, but ends up falling for the florist that sells them instead.)WC: 63774 (11/11)General Notes: This isn’t the kind of physical hurt that most people think of, but Keith does get emotionally hurt in this one and it just breaks my heart. i really loved this, its wonderfully written, and its just, wow. 10/10

Echoes of the Past by Gigapoodle

Warning: Graphic Depictions of ViolenceSummary: It was his fault. He shouldn’t have retreated – he should have ran after them, Galra forces be damned, and ripped the red paladin right out of his weaponized hands, shooting the commander dead on the spot.But he hadn’t. Lance stood there, frozen with adrenaline and fear, before backing out with tears in his eyes, justifying it to himself by saying, ‘he won’t get far, we can easily get him back once I have Voltron with me.’He’d forgotten they didn’t have Voltron. He’d forgotten that without Keith, Voltron was nothing.Keith is Galra. Keith is gone. Keith is Galra. Keith is gone.WC: 28197 (yes one chapter)General Notes: this is more along the lines of keith finding out he is galra and hence running away its still one of the best fics in this fandom imo. 10/10

i can’t help but want by aknightley

warning: N/ASummary: Lance deals with the aftermath of being sucked into a black hole and stranded on an alien planet.When Lance wakes up, all he can see is blue.WC: 16921General Notes: more of klance being stranded on a planet post wormhole collapse, and just yes. 10/10

Just Static by Jessadilla/wobblyarms

Warning: N/ASummary: --Static-----iro, Hunk, Kei---, nybody? I’m-----static----I’m sorry guys. This is all my----static--cc-----I found my coordinates. They’re---stttcc--guys. I hear something-----scccc--end transmission-Alone on a hostile planet, transmissions aren't getting through. How did it come to this?WC: 84141 (16/16)General Notes: just holy fuck. this fic made me cry, like straight up. it is more than likely one of the few fics that have made me cry, and i dont cry easy. 100/10

#klance #keith #fic recs #holy moly #those are like all the really good angst fics i have centered around keith #i really tried with this #sick/injured keith is not something i find often #and most of the time its because of emotional damage #sorry if some of these arent what you were looking for #but theyre all great fics #fawnvanilla #dragon answers

518 notes · View notes

myflowerfriends · 5 years ago

Text

Final Blog Posts

Blog 7: Unsaturating the World

Figure 1: Saturation in boardwalk photo, https://www.adorama.com/alc/0008627/article/100-in-100-Dont-be-a-super-soaker-saturater

In photography, to saturate an image is to edit it so that all of the visible colors are intensified against the white; the right side of Figure 1 is saturated to bring out the vibrancy in the greens and blues. The lowest form of saturation is greyscale, where the photo loses all colors and becomes simple variations of white and blacks. I kept thinking of this term, saturation, while doing the readings for this week. It feels like humanity has taken hold of the saturation scale in Adobe Photoshop and is steadily turning the world greyer. This week’s post looks at the causes of biodiversity loss and extinction, particularly in chapters 9 and 10 of the textbook.

One of the first times I really felt a deep empathy for the environment was when I must have been about eight years old, and I was flipping through a magazine in my dad’s dental office. On the cover there was a polar bear, and on the inside there must have been an editor’s note that stressed how sad and absurd it was that the editor’s children might live to see a world where polar bears go extinct. It completely blew my mind. Polar bears going extinct?! But they’re such iconic animals!

Figure 2: Polar Bear on Time Magazine, 2006. Not sure if this was the exact magazine I was flipping through, but it carries the same energy. http://content.time.com/time/covers/0,16641,20060403,00.html

What I didn’t realize then was that every twenty-four hours, between 150-200 species of plant, insect, bird, and mammal go extinct.[1] And according to Miller and Simmons’ text, “20-50% [is the] percentage of the earth’s known species that could disappear this century primarily because of human activities.”[2] The guilt on the shoulders of humankind should be there, but it is not. There is hardly any action being taken to preserve these species, or at least ease their suffering—and hardly any action being done to do the same for our human sisters and brothers.

“Given the pace and scale of change, we can no longer exclude the possibility of reaching critical tipping points that could abruptly and irreversibly change living conditions on Earth.” [3]This quote comes from the World Wildlife Populations Down 50% in Last 40 Years video, which explains just what the title says. There are critical tipping points that are coming closer and closer to being reached each day, and very little being done to reduce the strain of these.

One way to remember the reasons that are causing this biodiversity loss is through HIPPCO: Habitat destruction, degradation, and fragmentation; Invasive (nonnative) species; Population growth and increasing use of resources; Pollution; Climate change; and Overexploitation. Habitat destruction is at this time the most common damaging action being taken, and is a difficult one to stop. It can be difficult to realize too; people in industrialized parts of the United States took great pity on the wildfires being burned in the Amazon Rainforest in late 2019, but were hypocritical to the land that was destroyed so that their city or suburb could be built.

This also reminds me of an interaction I saw on Instagram the other day. There was a post by National Geographic on how salmon are being overfished and losing their wild habitat. One of the top comments stated something along the lines of, “this is why we need to farm salmon! Stop fishing in the wild, it’s the only way to protect them!” And it made me think, because if the problem is that isolated—salmon in the wild are disappearing, so just eat the ones that are farmed—then that would work, maybe. But the issue with salmon, or any species, is that they do not exist in a vacuum. They are an integral part of ecosystems in their natural habitats; farming salmon would eliminate a lot of the benefits that salmon have in the wild.

I was just having a discussion with my brother about this too, and we started making a list of things: what if cows were wild? Would they look the same or had hundreds of years of domestication made them softer and bigger, as chickens have become? Farms make evolution work differently.

As do zoos. Is there any real chance of zoos integrating animals back into the wild? I support animal education, and I get that it’s easier to study animals in zoos than in the wild sometimes.

Figure 3: A photo I took in February, 2019 of the South African Lion and Safari Park website where they acknowledge that they do not feel comfortable with their own lion-petting exhibits but continue to have them for economic purposes. The website has since been renovated and this page was completely removed.

But zoos tend to really get me questioning their ethics. Are they necessary for people to understand why it’s necessary to protect them, or is watching high quality documentaries enough to give humans a change of heart? I had a huge fallout with some friends of mine while we were studying abroad in South Africa because they went to a Lion Park where lions are bred and adults are euthanized. I heard lots of, “but you connect with the animals! You learn to respect them for their conservation! They do scientific research there!” And then the question is, how different is using horses for entertainment? Is it not practically the same as breeding lions for human entertainment? This isn’t the section of the course dedicated to philosophy, but the unanswered questions remain, bring the choice back to whether we will keep the turning the world grey or work on brightening its diversity.

The Critical Thinking Question #5 on page 218 is a tough one: what would you do if a wild boar invaded and tore up your yard or garden?

Currently my dad is having an issue where these strange moth-type bugs build cocoons on the pine trees separating our house from our neighbors. They’re killing the pine trees, because when they make their cocoons, they eat the needles. My dad asked me, as an environmental studies major, what the best option would be: let the bugs take over the trees and once they turn brown, cut them down? Or use pesticides to kill the trees?

Critical Thinking Question # 5 on page 250 asks: Are you in favor of establishing more wilderness areas in the United States?

To that I say: YES TO MORE WILDERNESS AREAS!!!! More old growth forests means more biodiversity! Any disadvantages would just be hidden advantages; for example, less room for suburban sprawl would give more space for the earth to heal.Less private space allows for more public space, which can be used by humans, vegetations, and wildlife.

WC:1189

Question: It is interesting too, that some species are considered accidentally introduced/invasive. Are humans accidentally introduced to places, or do we make possible the ability to sustain life on any corner of the earth because we were designed to do that?

Blog 8: Eat or Be Eaten.

Aquatic Biodiversity Loss and Extinction

Figure 1: Lake Erie, 2015, https://www.nps.gov/piro/learn/nature/images/Waves-on-shore_1.jpg?maxwidth=1200&autorotate=false

Unless you have seen one of the Great Lakes with your own eyes, you cannot fathom what they are really like: vast, powerful bodies of water, with big waves and long stretches of sandy beaches; comparable to an ocean. I grew up living about a block away from Lake Erie, and when I was younger, I really hated my hometown. I wanted to live in a big city. My parents countered my arguments by emphasising how lucky we were to live in the Great Lakes Basin. It wasn’t until I attended a March for Science that I realised how important it was to protect the lakes — see me pictured below with my generic sign, and my friend Max holding a sign that my mom crafted; she’s the one taking the photo.

Figure 2: Cleveland’s March for Science Protest, 2017. Photo by author.

Part of my love of the Great Lakes, and of open bodies of water in general, comes from me living so close to them. But as Sylvia Earle is quoted in the beginning of chapter 12, “With every drop of water you drink, with every breath you take, you are connected to the sea, no matter where on Earth you live” (253).[1] Even if you live in a desert, every decision you make can in some way affect aquatic ecosystem services. Take, for example, the Great Pacific Garbage Patch.

Figure 3: Eastern Great Pacific Garbage Patch, 2019.

https://www.forbes.com/sites/scottsnowden/2019/05/30/300-mile-swim-through-the-great-pacific-garbage-patch-will-collect-data-on-plastic-pollution/#4b2a7f36489f

There are actually two large garbage patches with some connecting debris in-between them; the greater of these patches is just off the coast of California, and is about 600,000 square miles, and in some areas, several feet deep. It is an island floating on the surface of the water, made up of plastics and microplastics. Because plastic is not biodegradable, the Garbage Patch continues to grow, and many animals, such as the albatross pictured below, die due to ingestion of these plastics, which Chris Jordan documents hauntingly well in the film Albatross.[2]

Figure 4: Albatross Bodies with Plastic, 2018,

https://www.albatrossthefilm.com/ourstory

One thing that I think could have been better written about in this chapter is water distribution. I stumbled through this very briefly in my presentation while explaining biophilia and the damaging effects of trying to make Las Vegas into an oasis in the desert. I understand that this chapter is focused more on the biodiversity of aquatic ecosystems, but I still think that concept 11.5 of this chapter could go more in depth with the ownership rights of water sources, or perhaps the section on the Great Lakes in the previous section could explain how although the Great Lakes are the largest collective body of freshwater in the world, water diversions are pretty much limited to regions within the Great Lakes Basin, and why it is important that it stays that way.

Critical Thinking Question #2, p. 280:

Three Greatest Threats to Aquatic Biodiversity

1. Ocean Acidification

2. Plastic Pollution

3. Coastal Wetland and Watershed Protection

4. Overfishing (if there are fish left after the above 3 are increased!)

The list above is my answer to the Critical Thinking Question for this chapter. All of them are caused by humans on the land. The greatest threat according to me is that of ocean acidification, or the increasing amounts of heat and acidity in the oceans. This stems from increased Co2 in the atmosphere. One of the main factors contributing to that, is animal agriculture.

Soil, Agriculture, and Food

Figure 5: You Can Smell the Methane in This Photo, 2014

https://www.wilderutopia.com/health/cowspiracy-animal-agriculture-despoils-land-water-and-climate/

Chapter 12 in the textbook discusses the effect of food production on the environment. I act like I know a lot about this when people ask me why I’m a vegetarian, but this chapter was full of great information and details that I didn’t fully understand until now.

The issue with animal agriculture is not only that Co2 is basted into the atmosphere through gasses released form the animals and humans which eat them, and the clearing of land for the animals. With the depletion of biodiversity to allow animals grazing land, vital natural habitats for other species are lost, as shown in George Monbiot’s brief video on rewilding the countryside and rural areas.[3]

Truthfully, I expected the chapter to be much more focused on animal agriculture alone. But other forms of farming are nearly as bad, as pictured below.

Figure 6: Effects of Food Production of Any Sort

https://slideplayer.com/slide/6187595/

I’m also glad that the chapter covered a comparison of overnutrition and malnutrition. I found the quote: “We live in a world where, according to the WHO, about 795 million people face health problems because they do not get enough nutritious food to eat and at least another 2.1 billion (29% of the human population) have health problems stemming largely from eating too much sugar, fat, and salt.”[4] The greed of modern civilization never ceases to amaze me.

Critical Thinking Question #1 p. 320

Figure 7: Vertical Harvest of Jackson Hole, 2013.

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/2056017617/vertical-harvest-of-jh-a-growing-system-for-change

If I were a member of Growing Power Inc. and in charge of turning an abandoned shopping center into an organic farm, I would begin by getting a perfect team together; potentially including some of the students in this class (networking!). I’d do my best to dismantle the concrete and debris of the shopping center, and reuse whatever I was able to on the spot. As it is in the Case Study, my farm would be powered partly by solar electricity and solar hot water systems, and would be structured like a green house to keep the produce supported year round. As it is in Jackson Hole’s Vertical Harvest organic urban farm, my employee positions would first be open to disabled peoples who are working on communication skills, training in this center for jobs elsewhere.[5] We would be deeply integrated into the community, selling our produce locally and donating to food banks and soup kitchens whenever possible. That sounds too good to be true, but we’ll leave it at that.

Question, and I think about this every day: which is better for the environment, to be vegan and avoid animal products entirely but eat non-local tofu or other forms of meatless protein; or to eat only locally sourced food which would make animal products more of a staple to the diet?

WC: 1156

[1] Miller, G. Tyler, and Scott E. Spoolman. Living in the Environment. Chapter 11: Sustaining Aquatic Biodiversity and Ecosystem Services. 19th ed. Boston, MA: Engage Learning, 2020.

[2] Jordan, Chris. Albatross. https://www.albatrossthefilm.com

[3] Smith, Peter. “George Monbiot on reqilding countryside and rural areas” YouTube, 2016. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K1KW-0YbO3Q

[4] Miller, G. Tyler, and Scott E. Spoolman. Living in the Environment. Chapter 12: Food Production and the Environment, p. 286. 19th ed. Boston, MA: Engage Learning, 2020.

[5] “Vertical Harvest Jackson Hole,” Vertical Harvest, https://www.verticalharvestjackson.com/our-mission.

Blog 9: Fight the System by Appreciating Soil and Supporting Local Farmers !

Symphonies of the Soil

Figure 1: Cover Artwork, 2012, https://www.imdb.com/title/tt2229397/

When I began watching this documentary, I braced myself for what I thought was going to be a long, boring hour-and-a-half. But by the end of it, I think it may have changed the trajectory of my summer plans.

The first half of the documentary is an almost meditative description of different types of soils found across planet earth, backed by an orchestral score. Ironically, one of the first phrases of the narrator is: “most of the planet is non-living.”[1]And it is. As my sister pointed out, even humans are mostly CHON: carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen. Yet plots of land are not 100% soil; half of it is the compounds that make up soil, and half of it consists of spaces for air, water, and microorganisms which use soil to survive.

Figure 2: Andy Foraging for Mushrooms in Washington, 2019, photo by author.

This point leads to another: you cannot grow good produce in a void. If you were to strip a type of soil down to its purest form and attempt at planting anything in it, it likely would not be successful. This seems to be the thesis of the second half of the documentary: farmers need to feed soil the natural ingredients it needs to be nutritional.

As I don’t have a very strong science background, some of this went over my head, such as the part about the lupines and nitrogen fixation. This summer, as long as the pandemic settles down, I hope to get an internship or job working in permaculture or vertical harvesting. It’s very odd to me that I can talk so much about the environment but know so little about it in a physical way. Although I try to shop mostly locally or from farmers markets, the development I grew up in didn’t allow gardens aside from flower beds, so I have had very little connection to soil or the ground I live on.

A critique I have of this film is that they paid very little attention to indigenous practices of cultivating soil, or hunter-gatherer ideas. They looked at how the harmful processes began, with civilizations in Europe flattening out the hillsides and beginning monocrop farming during the agricultural revolution, and they did discuss the Law of Return, but I thought there might be more references with how the soil had been used in previous human populations, and perhaps a discussion on primitivism. The discussion that was had in the film was more focused on finding a structured form of rewilding agriculturally, which I support, but still I thought the film could show the other side, and give more credit to the indigenous groups that have been pushing for this rewinding for centuries.

Figure 3: Stone Age Reenactment Group, http://www.jutulskinn.no/stone-age-gathering.

No matter how far you think society should dive into with a return to primitivism, the message of this video is clear: we can do a better job at how we farm, in order to produce healthier more sustainable products. It feels as though this shouldn’t be too difficult—but with the rigid constraints set forth by the corporations involved in the agricultural industry, farmers have very little say in how their crops get produced, and animals have become far removed from from the agricultural process, removing a great source of natural fertilizer as well. The next film explains that a bit more.

Food, Inc.

Figure 4: Food, Inc. Cover Image, 2008, https://www.imdb.com/title/tt1286537/mediaviewer/rm3514966016.

Food, Inc. uses various segments to explain the systems put in place to produce food, and how rigid those constraints are within the law-and-order system of the United States of America. These segments range from showing statistics, interviews, and video clips of what the world of agriculture is really like.

I found the Polyface Farms clips to be fascinating, because it was so difficult to watch and listen to, but was still the best possible scenario for meat farming. The cattle fertilize and mow the variety of greens they eat; there are no shipments of corn that have to be made. As Joel says, “it’s all real solar dollars….we’re every bit as efficient, especially if you plug in all of the inefficiencies of the industrial system.” [2]

Figure 5: Joel at Polyface Farms, http://www.temeats.com/polyface-farms/.

I think this will be the hardest connection for people to make, especially because we need food to sustain ourselves. Someone can be addicted to nicotine and cut it out of their lives, or can choose to avoid it altogether. But they cannot simply ignore food. People can ignore bad food, but the temptation is always lingering as a possibility, and if you grew up like I did—eating processed foods for breakfast, lunch, and dinner until I was about sixteen and realized I needed to be healthier—breaking away from those habits can feel like the single most challenging thing to accomplish. And when fast food is the only option due to income levels, the cycle gets even more challenging to break.

Figure 6: Elk in Wyoming, https://content.osgnetworks.tv/petersenshunting/content/photos/bull-elk-bugling.jpg

I am reminded of an argument that put me on bad terms with my boss at my summer job as a waitress at a guest ranch near Jackson, Wyoming. Elk lived in the meadows just outside the property and were hunted and sold locally. One of our most popular items on the menu was elk tenderloin, and once I had a guest ask how local the elk we served was, a reasonable assumption as our website says that our kitchen sources locally and is as sustainable as possible, even though the menu does not specify what is or is not local. Upon speaking with the head chef I learned that the elk was actually shipped in, frozen, from Austria. The more getting-into-everybody-else’s-business that I did, the more I realized that the only ingredients we used that weren’t shipped in from Sysco were a weak amount of herbs from the farmers market. That guest was from Philadelphia and could have had fresher elk had he shipped it from Austria to Pennsylvania rather than Austria to Utah to Wyoming.

Along with that, our menu was incredibly meat-and-potatoes based, following exactly the prediction that humans are hard-wired to crave salt, fat, and sugar.

Something my mom makes fun of me for saying all the time is “it’s supply and demand!” as if all the problems in the world could be that simple. But in truth, they can be. And I hope that just as my generation has severely damaged the tobacco industry, the next generation can put an end to big corporations controlling the food industry, so that 30% of the United States’ land base will not be corn, and the choice between medication or buying vegetables will be unfathomable, and local food companies will overrule the 4 major meat companies in charge now.

A critique I have of Food, Inc. is that there is very little said about the dairy and fishing industries. I felt that there could have been an additional segment on those in the film—perhaps they aren’t as bad as the meat and corn industries, but I do not feel as though they are righteous enough to be counted out of this conversation.

I also am a bit confused by the Monsanto segment and hope to discuss that in our class time.

Question: Food, Inc. is very focused on the United States of America. What are food systems like in other parts of the world? Is there a correlation between colonized places having more fast-food?

WC: 1257

[1] Garcia, Deborah Koons, director. Symphony of the Soil. YouTube, 2012, www.youtube.com/watch?v=tDZVKMe2FTg.

[2] Kenner, Robert, et al. Food, Inc. 2008. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=smk2xq2l3Ig

Blog 10: The Health of the Environment, The Health of Humans

Figure 1, COVID-19 illustration, https://www.statnews.com/2020/02/11/disease-caused-by-the-novel-coronavirus-has-name-covid-19/

This week’s focus is on hazards and waste on human health and the environment. Chapter 17 in the textbook begins with a discussion on diseases stimulated from biological and chemical hazards and how these can be linked with environmental causes. The chapter ends with a discussion on risks, and how decision making can affect the world around us.

One of the most frustrating, common, and powerful diseases is cancer. Cancer’s direct cause in an individual is unknown. The title of the article “Breast Cancer: prevention or Cure? Why Is Breast Cancer Awareness/Cure Run By Major Chemical Companies?” gives good insight to the confusion around cancer research. The article goes on to explain the intricacies behind cancer research and bring to light the distrust that many people rightfully have towards corporations that are in control of cancer funding and research. Again, I see these problems tying so deeply into capitalism: individuals finding ways for their own selves to be as successful as possible without working towards the greater good.

Ethics always comes in to play and is very noticeable in this chapter. If malaria is such a murderous disease, and malaria is spread by mosquitoes, how bad would it be to just completely wipe out the mosquito population? I admit that I will appreciate any bug that lands on me, or gently flick them off, unless they are a mosquito. I do not like the inconvenience of mosquito bites, and killing mosquitoes gives me a weird sort of satisfaction that I could not achieve from the death of any other living being. In my biology class last semester, we looked at a case study of several scientists who were considering wiping out mosquitoes entirely in areas of the world susceptible to malaria. After long debates, no conclusion was reached. It feels wrong to eliminate a species that is annoying to us—if this is possible, then who’s going to stop the wolves in the western United States from eating cattle on ranches encroaching on their wild territory? At the same time, this could be a heroic achievement and an extreme stress-reliever for humankind.

These things seem like such simple solutions: page 455 of the textbook lists some ways to avoid exposure to hormone disrupters. Yet the article of the man who eliminated plastic from his life yet still got microplastics from his milk which was stored in a mason jar but filtered through a plastic lining proves that even when trying desperately to follow that advice, it is still just about impossible to be rid of them completely.

Figure 2, Microplastics Diagram, https://www.java-biocolloid.com/event/the-threads-of-microplastics-in-food-8721

I recently read the chapter “The Indian Healer” out of The Indian Giver, a book by Jack Weatherford in which he goes through the various ways that Native American peoples have contributed to modern medical technology or found the basis for medications. Native American practices of healing should be can be used to encourage well-being in medical practices, so as to put into action ways that advance views on the interconnectedness of community, the environment, and medicine overall.

I can’t help but think of what it felt to be alive before the industrial period began. I generally do feel better when I have spent some time in fresh air—but any fresh air in this day and age still has toxins in and around it, and no food nor water is completely free of microplastics or

A quick critique I have about all the extra informational videos and articles is that although they are very interesting, they are quite outdated. In other classes I am not allowed to cite articles older than five years old, and all of these are from the mid 2000s. I understand needing to learn the history of how we perceive chemicals in the body, but there was no range for that either. I’m curious as to what research has been put out within the last few years—or months.

CTQ #7 on p. 468 asks to name some risks that I face and how to eliminate or reduce those risks. This causes me to check my privilege once again; even when I come across pollution, I will likely have access to the best healthcare to heal me from whatever risks may concern me. There are risks that I can avoid, but that I still choose; I have chosen to live in Manhattan, with all its pollution, instead of living in a pristine area out west. Yet perhaps my education in New York will allow me to strengthen my ties with academia so that I can preserve those lands out west.

Solid and Hazardous Waste

I also recently read Waste Seige: the Life of Infrastructure in Palestine by Sophia Stamatopoulou-Robbins, who’s covering the discussions behind environmental, economic, and social issues that in occupied Palestine. Through illegal occupation, Israeli settlers are forcing neo-capitalist practices in the area, leading to more forced consumption, leading to more waste in an area that cannot contain it, and does not have the finances nor the leadership to create more sustainable waste options, such as those shown in the textbook. Palestine has become a literal dumpsite, and the effects of the toxins in the various wastes infiltrating the area is murderous. There is an ironic “Polluter Pays Principle” in use, where the governmental organizations have Palestinians pay higher taxes because technically they are the ones who are polluting—it is their sewer systems overflowing, their land that has the burning dump sites, and their people who are being cheap, non-sustainable products. Ironically, the sewers are flooding because Israeli-settler waste flows directly into them as well; landfills in that region are almost all located in designated Palestinian areas; and the suffocation of the economic process in Palestine keeps their people from having any upward mobility.

Figure 3, Landfill in Palestine, https://www.haaretz.com/israel-news/.premium.MAGAZINE-israel-s-solution-for-expelled-bedouin-between-garbage-and-junkyard-1.6158225

CTQ #1 p. 600: List three products you use and make them cradle-to-cradle.

The past two years I have begun having an immense feeling of guilt if I purchase something that isn’t made sustainably, or that isn’t able to be recycled or composted. When I need to buy something new (key word: need), I spend a lot of time looking into which company I can trust. I get most of my products from Package Free Shop. But as I keep saying, it goes back to economics. I’m sure anyone who uses their shampoo and conditioner bars and natural face oils would prefer it over whatever drugstore brand they use currently, but that price difference is what makes it so unreachable. To circle back, this is highlighted in Chapter 17’s discussion on HIV: lifesaving drugs are expensive, and simply cost too much to be used widely both in less-developed countries and in impoverished areas of industrialized countries.

Question: With marijuana becoming a much more common recreational and medicinal drug, I would have appreciated an unbiased discussion of it in this chapter, instead of it being left out completely. Does smoking marijuana affect your lungs as badly as smoking tobacco? Are there any studies being done on dab pens, which include THC but don’t include nicotine like traditional vape pens?

WC: 1105

Blog 11: Water (cont.)

Had I been patient with blog 8, I may have realized that there would be a whole other blog dedicated to water, filling in the gaps that I felt were left out in the previous readings—chapter 20 really digs into the inefficiencies of Ohio water treatment. This is that blog post, looking at chapters 13 and 20 in the textbook.[4]

Figure 1. Water Dispersal, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Water_resources

Chapter 13: Water Resources

Water is stored in many ways in the earth’s surface, but only 0.024% of the earth’s water is readily available as a liquid freshwater. Due to climate change, areas that are dry are becoming drier, and areas that are oversaturated are becoming wetter and with saltwater, not freshwater. With that small percentage of water that is usable to humans, about 70% is used to irrigate cropland and raise livestock.

Industrialized nations in particular treat water as if it is free; Miller and Spoolman note that “we have no substitute for this vital form of natural capital” (325). Things that don’t seem to be made of water need large amounts of it in order to be produced, such as blue jeans and lettuce; producing a quarter-pound hamburger takes about 2,400 liters of freshwater. “About 66% of the freshwater used in the world and about 50% of the freshwater used in the United States is lost through evaporations, leaks, and inefficient use” (342). Water really is our most necessary resource, and we absolutely take it for granted.

The United States has lots of freshwater resources, particularly in the eastern states. The book reads, “the United States has more than enough renewable freshwater to meet its needs. However, it is unevenly distributed and much of it is contaminated by agricultural and industrial practices” (329). Freshwater shortages are becoming more common and will continue to expand as climate change increases. Aquifers are losing their water faster than the rain is refilling them—in some parts of the United States, four times as fast—and much of this water being taken out is going to waste. There are other frightening results that come from too much groundwater being pulled out of the earth, such as sinkholes, as pictured in Figure 2.

Figure 2. Sinkhole in Guatemala City, 2007. https://www.businessinsider.com/giant-sinkhole-photos-2014-9

There is an option of tapping deep aquifers that lie beneath the surface of the ocean, but this is dangerous in that they are nonrenewable on a human timeline, little is known about what effects doing this may have, no international treaties govern these areas yet, the costs are unknown, and the water is likely still contaminated with some salt, arsenic, and uranium.

Dams are also not an ideal way to increase water supplies, because even though they help humans in many ways, they can destroy the natural environment in many ways, which in turn brings destruction to humans after a matter of time. Desalination is another option, albeit a costly and perhaps inefficient one, though more research is being done in the search to find better desalination technology.

The 4 R’s of recycling (refuse, reduce, reuse, recycle) may be the best way to work with water. Refusing unnecessary amounts of water, and reducing one’s usage of necessary water, are two prime first steps to take when trying to heal water issues. Part of what will make this easier for people to remember to follow is if water is treated by society as a necessity, through higher prices of freshwater (and perhaps a Universal Basic Income – style user pays approach) and redirecting government subsidies to being more efficient. Simple household changes, such as installing low-flow toilets, fixing leaks as soon as they are noticed, and redesigning lawns and outdoor spaces with vegetation that suits the ecoregion can also help limit the amount of freshwater wasted. Vaster options can include incorporating infrastructures in communities that reuse greywater in areas that are able.

Water has no substitute. Sure, you can drink LaCroix or Coke Zero and treat that as your liquid intake for the day, but freshwater is at the base of those items. Without some form of h2o in our systems, humans would not survive for more than a few days.

Chapter 20: Water Pollution

The previous chapter had its focus on freshwater, and how to be efficient with it. This one focuses on what happens if that freshwater gets polluted. In some parts of the world, mercury, pathogens, metals, and other nutrients can kill people drinking the water if it is not treated properly. In some areas, this does not directly affect humans intake, but can affect humans lives in other ways—for example, all of northeast Ohio becoming a laughing stock when the Cuyahoga River caught on fire in the late 1960’s (see Figure 3).

Figure 3, Cuyahoga River fire recolored, June 1969. https://1960sdaysofrage.wordpress.com/2019/03/18/burn-on-big-river-cuyahoga-river-fires/

But in the textbook, Miller and Spoolman start this discussion of as saying that the Cuyahoga River fires were a success story. I rode my bike by the Cuyahoga River just the other day and it was not ablaze—there were fishermen and ducks in it. Still, most of the world’s major riverways are heavily polluted, with “80-90% of the raw sewage in most cities in less developed countries [is] discharged directly into waterways” (548). Yet there is hope that these rivers can heal, though it will take a tremendous amount of strength from the humans who have caused this incredible pollution in the first place.

Balance is another important factor into keeping water clean. No water, not even the “clean” water humans drink, is pure h20—that would kill us. We need small traces of other elements in it too. Too many nutrients, though, can lead to eutrophication, which is when a shallow body of water has too many nutrients, causing dense growths of organisms which decompose and suffocate the body of water, giving it a greenish-teal color.

Question: Why are some mountain lakes so brightly colored? Does it have to do with eutrophication, even if they are pristine?

WC: 1112

Blog 12: Future, No Future

Figure 1: Protestors rally against pipelines being put into Wet’suwet’en land in Canada

First off, I would like to disagree with Justin Trudeau’s statement made at the Houston Energy Conference in 2017 where he says that “No country would find 173 billion barrels of oil in the ground and just leave them there.” I would like to believe that I, and many people with unselfish morals dedicating their lives to environmental justice, would let those oil barrels STAY IN THE GROUND.

I was surprised that Trudeau was the one to say it, as when I was younger, I thought he could do no evil; I was quite a little liberal. But now I see his desire for economic greed showing through his attempted democracy, just as I thought the Paris Climate Agreement was exactly what the world needed, and now see that there’s a lot of flimsy rhetoric in there. But we’ll get to that in a minute. First, the reading:

Chapter eleven of Simon Lewis and Mark Maslin’s The Human Planet: How We Created the Anthropocenetells how there are three possible future for the world: continued consumer capitalist development, collapse, or a new mode of living. [5]

Continue

Figure 2: Consumerism, http://links.org.au/node/1972

I think it’s interesting that they even gave continued consumer capitalist development a chance—I feel as though they could have just grouped that with collapse. I recognize that not many people (ie. My family who I am quarantined with) think the way I do, so I am glad they gave the explanation. Business as usual cannot continue. We are heading for collapse.

I suppose in some kind of sense, you could say that it can continue. But that’s because what’s continuing isn’t really capitalism in the first place. The small changes are already being had. For example, our right-wing president is dishing out monetary stimulus checks to bolster the economy, which smells a lot like socialism to me (delicious).

Lewis and Maslin explain our current economic system as being driven by positive feedback loops which end in fundamental changes. The factors which underlid all human societies are changing faster and faster as time moves onwards—it is true exponential growth. It is consumers acting as though we have infinite resources even while living on a finite planet. It is contradictory. But even in it’s core, our current system is one of change.

Perhaps the change requires all cars to be electric, but the increase in demand for electric cars requires an increase in demand for the lithium mined in Bolivia. Maybe there is no realistic, futuristic plan to put in place that will efficiently and sustainably save the world. Maybe I just need to read up more on this. Lewis and Maslin do offer some good suggestions, though, including Universal Basic Income and Half-Earth.

A New Way of Life?

Figure 3: Half-Earth website screenshot, https://www.half-earthproject.org

Universal Basic Income (UBI) and the Half-Planet theory are the two most clearly stated pathways for success of our planet that we have studied thus far.

UBI: I know a lot of professors don’t like to talk about their politics, but I was trying to figure out where yours lie as someone who knows so much about the interweaving’s of politics and the environment. A few months ago you dropped that you were a big proponent of UBI, and I thought, “aha! so Andrew Yang is the one who will save the environment!” But my impression of Yang’s UBI felt more focused on Artificial intelligence—I really just didn’t know a lot about UBI in general. (side note: I am REALLY excited for it to be summer so I can stop having deadlines and start just immersing myself in the random topics I want to learn more about. This course gave me a lotta suggestions.) After reading about it in this chapter, I think that UBI is really promising. Lewis and Maslin state that, “[UBI] breaks the link between work and consumption; we could work less and consume less and still meet our needs…those working in the fossil fuel industry would have the security of income to retrain” (406). This sounds incredibly promising, but there are still questions involving culture (some people feel more “manly” working in a coal mine) and how this would play out with refugees and non-citizens residing in the United States, etc. Still, I think a solid attempt at integrating this into our economy would help the world in lots of ways.

Half Earth: I am very interested in the idea of giving half the earth to other species, and perhaps indigenous groups as well. Again, I look at the suburbs and think of how seemingly easy it would be to develop rewilding techniques. All it would take is one popular suburban mom changing her front lawn from monoculture bluegrass to being a large garden—or whatever a local environmental rewilding consultant would suggest—and the rest of the neighborhood would follow suit. Half-Earth may seem like an enormous task to take on, but I genuinely have faith that it is possible.

Collapse

Figure 4: Quarantine Meme That My Mom Thought Was Real, https://www.boredpanda.com/nature-healing-quarantine-jokes/?utm_source=google&utm_medium=organic&utm_campaign=organic

As an environmental studies and anthropology double-major, people would ask me where those two overlap. I even felt that I was choosing two very different subjects because I was so scatter brained—I’d study a little about the environment, a little about humans, and figure out what I was going to do with that somewhere along the way. I let myself feel belittled for choosing two of the “easiest” subjects—no intense economics, no organic chemistry to work through. Just a lot of thinking too much about things which some people may consider completely irrelevant, a task which I am very good at. So it made me feel a lot better when, I believe it was you Dr. Kindervater, who said: “These two scientists think there is time for economic and political changes to save human kind. Culturally, though, do we believe it?”

For a long time I really thought that collapse was the only path our planet was headed towards—that Jane Goodall was bullshitting us all with her Reasons For Hope, and that if Bernie Sanders didn’t become president and begin balancing out the wealth gap and making changes to environmental legislation, then we might as well all be dead now and let whatever remaining species reclaim the earth before we make them go extinct too. I guess, if you’re someone who prefers life over death, (and I suppose we are all those types of people as even if we want to kill ourselves, we haven’t done it yet!) the we might as well have hope for the future, and continue working towards the new path.

“With great power comes great responsibility” is a quote from Uncle Ben in the Spiderman series, which Peter Parker/Spiderman keeps close to his heart as he begins to realize his powers, and is constantly questioned with the choice to use them selfishly or for the greater good. With increased technology, humankind collectively has the power to transform the earth or destroy it. I hope that soon we recognize what is at stake with our planet, and learn how to efficiently reduce the destruction being caused. It might not bring dolphins into the heat ponds of Washington D.C., but it would certainly allow for a lot of other miracles to happen.

Question: My concern with UBI is, how can you make sure that people aren’t spending it irresponsibly? Would it be better to just raise the minimum wage, or expand the amount available for people to get food stamps and free healthcare? Would UBI allow people to get their basic needs met, or would it provide for spending money on sustainable/fair trade products?

WC: 1251

[1] Vidal, John. “UN Environment Program: 200 Species Go Extinct Every Day, Unlike Anything Since Dinosaurs Disappeared 65 Million Years Ago,” Huffpost May 2011. https://www.huffpost.com/entry/un-environment-programme-_n_684562

[2] Miller, G. Tyler, and Scott E. Spoolman. Living in the Environment. Chapter 23: Economics, Environment, and Sustainability. 19th ed. Boston, MA: Engage Learning, 2020.

[3] https://www.dailymotion.com/video/x26ybub

[4] Miller, G. Tyler, and Scott Spoolman. Living in the Environment . 19th ed. S.l.: Cengage Learning, 2018.

[5] Lewis, Simon L., and Mark A. Maslin. “Chapter 11: Can Homo Dominates Become Wise?” The Human Planet: How We Created the Anthropocene, Yale University Press, pp. 367–416.

0 notes