#anyway I started jotting this at like 11 pm

[gerryrigged]

dicktim - La Beau Au Bois Dormant

idea gripping my tired brain by the throat about Tim being struck by some kind of sleeping beauty poison or spell and falling comatose.

Except the solution is not True Love's Kiss but sending someone inside his soul to battle the dragon that will manifest from his inner demons to keep him imprisoned, forever.

The highest chance for success necessitates sending in the one person that the sleeper trusts most - often their love, hence the poison/spell's reputation, but not always.

And almost everyone immediately turns to Dick, like in you go, Nightwing, what are you waiting for.

Which Dick. Doesn't know how to react to, because. God he would give anything to be that person for Tim again. But he knows that he broke something between them when he stripped away Robin.

They've moved past it, they're...fine. But Dick knows. It's not the same. They aren't the same.

He can't help Tim with this. Tim probably wouldn't even want him to try. And that kills him, but he won't sabotage Tim's only shot to wake up because of his own desperate wish to still be the one Tim turns to first. His north star.

There's a ticking-clock time limit before Tim won't be able to wake up at all. They don't have any time to lose.

He looks away from everyone's expectant, demanding stares.

"Call Superboy," he says, voice scraped raw from his throat. "Or Kid Flash. They'll get here in time."

He can't stand the disappointment on Bruce's face. It makes helpless anger boil hot and toxic in his belly. Bruce wasn't here for everything that happened. He doesn't know.

(Dick's never told him. How badly he fucked up.)

"Wait, not his boyfriend?'" Steph says, raised eyebrows and gesticulating at nowhere in particular and Dick's churning thoughts sputter and die into frozen blankness. Boyfriend?

Babs shakes her head on the Batcomputer's view screen.

"They're not at that level of trust yet. They haven't even been dating that long, Tim definitely hasn't told him about - " she twirls a finger, indicating all of them. Red Robin on the medical bed, cowl pushed down and cape pooled around him. The Cave, vaulting overhead. " - all of this. And he won't thank us for doing it for him."

Tim...has a boyfriend?

Wow. His little brother used to always want his advice on love. Life. Everything. If he doesn't trust Dick enough anymore to tell him even that much... Well. It just proves definitively that Dick isn't the right person for this job.

(It hurts like Dick's vital organs are being crushed in a massive fist.)

"Time is ticking," Jason Blood says quietly, looking down at the open face of his pocket watch. At his feet, a circle of lit candles awaits someone to sit down inside and sink into an enchanted meditation.

"Father, clearly it should be you," Damian says, tapping his foot rapidly. His arms are crossed tightly under his cape in a way that he probably means to come across as scornful, rather than apprehensive. "Or Pennyworth, even."

Bruce shakes his head, troubled. "No. I don't think so. Cassie...?"

"No," Cass responds calmly. "Not me." She seems untroubled by her own denial, even though she and Tim have been thick as thieves ever since she returned to Gotham.

She's looking at Dick. She hasn't looked away from Dick this whole time, or let go of Tim's hand, folded in hers protectively, over his heart.

"It's still you, big brother," she says. Gentle and direct and devastating. "Go. Bring him back."

Not so long ago, Tim trusted Dick to catch him when he fell.

Or, he was depressed and passively suicidal and telling Dick what he wanted to hear. Maybe he even believed it, after the fact.

In the end, it doesn't matter. He's Dick's brother. Dick will always, always be there to catch him, whether Tim trusts him to or not.

Dick goes.

He faces Tim, sinks into lotus inside the ring of flickering little flames, and closes his eyes, heart in his throat.

He opens his eyes. A vast, jagged bramble forest looms dark above him. Far in the distance, he can just make out a spindly tower piercing the sky, a flickering little light shining at the top.

He hacks his way through the biting brambles of Tim's resentments, leaving blood and sorrows dripping from the thorns in his wake.

He fights the sly, sinuous dragon of Tim's despair, singing with every breath that he can spare, so that Tim might hear him and know he's not alone.

He wishes he could remember happy songs, bright and lively songs - wishes he could be the light in the darkness that Tim deserves, that he looked up to and chased after and for some reason tried to model himself upon, even when he was already so very bright himself.

But any song is better than none to pierce the lonely vault of silence, so he sings of pain, of loss, of faith and faithlessness. Of holding on past the point of breaking. He sings of two hands open and outstretched, waiting to be clasped and held.

When his voice falters, when adamant scales break his sword and claws shatter his shield, he throws himself at the winged serpent, letting it coil about him and grappling it in turn. Fangs strike at him again and again, piercing flesh and armor both, before he winds his arms around its jaws and holds them shut.

It hisses through clenched teeth about failures, his and Tim's both. He holds its jaws shut, and sings of two ships tossed in a maelstrom, anchored to each other, weathering the storm.

It hisses, venom dripping from its furious curled lips, about abandonment and betrayal. He holds its jaws shut, and sings about two robins, flying with an olive branch held aloft between them.

It hisses to him of ice unending, frozen hearts, shattered trust. He holds its jaws shut, and sings about the steady radiating warmth of a hearth, of a hug, of a new dawn. Of new beginnings.

He rests his forehead on the dragon's growling snout, and sings, "Come home with me. Come home to me. Tim, I love you. Tim, Tim, Tim."

The beast shudders and shivers. And starts to break apart.

The crumbling wings buffet and beat at Dick even as they begin to crack and collapse. Dick lowers his head and holds on tighter.

The massive coiled tail squeezes around Dick convulsively, thrashing and withering. Dick's ribs crack, but he holds on tighter.

Scales etched with Tim's regrets flake off and fall away, like a tree shedding razor edged leaves in autumn. Dick closes his eyes as they kiss and cut his already tattered skin, but just holds on tighter.

Eventually, the violent disintegration comes to an end, and all goes still and quiet.

Save for a familiar shape shaking and weeping in Dick's arms.

Dick opens his eyes, blinking away sweat and blood just to be sure. But yes. It's him. Blue eyes reddened with tears, staring in horror at the ragged torn-up mess of his older brother, come to rescue him.

"Tim," Dick sighs, bones papier-mâché from relief. And exhaustion. "Timmy. Thank god."

"Dick," Tim cries out, gripping him tightly in distress. He lets go immediately at Dick's wince, and tries to pull away. "I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry, I'm - your wounds, we have to - "

Dick doesn't let him move an inch. "Shhhhhh," he breathes. "It's a dream, don't worry about it." Tim wriggles in protest at first, determinedly attempting to staunch some of the heavier bleeding, but Dick just holds him tighter. "Please, Timmy," he begs. "Please. Just let me."

Tim's breath hitches, then he wraps his arms around Dick just as hard as Dick is squeezing him, strong and anchoring. Dick's own breath shudders on the edge of a whine, and he buries his nose in Tim's hair.

-----

"Missed you," he whispers hoarsely, several minutes later.

Tim lifts his face from where he's been leaking a silent wet spot into Dick's collarbone.

"Missed you, too," he whispers back, as if they're sharing secrets and might be overheard.

Then Tim hesitates, before setting his mouth firmly. He meets Dick's gaze, and there's a fierce light in his still reddened eyes that transfixes Dick. He almost lost this. He almost lost Tim - so many times, more than he probably even knows about. He never wants to look away.

"And I love you, too, you know. That's never changed. It never will change." His brow is furrowed intently, gaze searching Dick's, like he can find and burn away any hint of doubt or disbelief.

"I know," Dick murmurs, warm down to his battered toes. Tim's alive. Tim's going to wake up, and keep living. Tim loves him, and forgives him, and still trusts him more than anyone else. "I do know. I - "

He releases one arm from its death grip, because he can no longer resist the urge to cup Tim's face, stroke a thumb across his cheek. Tim closes his eyes briefly as he covers Dick's hand with his, leaning into it, brows still drawn together. Like he's in pain, even though all the dings and scratches are on Dick, not him.

Dick's heart seizes.

He dips down, to the impossibly inviting bow of Tim's mouth, and kisses him. At Tim's small, quiet gasp, he gentles further, catching Tim's lips, pulling the full lower curve between his own in a soft tug. To his delight, Tim follows him, chasing his mouth, and they share the sweet cling and press, back and forth.

-----

Dick's wounds are somehow all still present upon waking. Magic, ugh, such a pain. The resulting frenzy of medical attention and getting bundled into another bed - too far away from Tim - like he's one foot through death's door isn't exactly fun, either.

(But still. Well worth it, for that first moment Tim's eyes flutter open and hazily lock on his. The world can keep spinning, now that Dick knows Tim is safe.)

As it turns out, Tim's recollection of what happened inside his own soul is equally hazy.

He remembers enough to melt bonelessly into Dick's chest when Dick sneaks over to share his bed, which dissolves the hard knot of worried tension in Dick's chest that he wouldn't remember anything, that he'd be back to subtle distance and awkward texts and not even feeling comfortable enough to share that he likes men, and Dick. Isn't sure he could have handled that.

So he ignores his aching ribs and multiple lacerations and puncture wounds and curls around Tim with his whole body, warmth and gratitude suffusing every aching muscle.

Tim...doesn't seem to remember the kiss. Which. Is a shame.

But Dick remembers it. Every moment is burned into him like the most intimate pyrography. That will have to be enough, until he can make it happen again.

(Tim's boyfriend doesn't stand a chance.)

#dicktim #gerryrigged #gerry words #the spindly tower was a lie #this poison/spell is SUPER mean #anyway I started jotting this at like 11 pm #thinking lol I will scribble three sketchy paragraphs max and then I MUST to bed #it is now #almost morning hghkldjkfls #gripped by the NO MUST GET A WHOLE DRAFT DOWN demon whole-ass #why do I do this to myself gdit I was ALREADY tired #ohhhh this is going to need serious editing if I ever turn back to it hghkljdkf #anyway if you noticed that technically Tim waking up DID happen after TLK #then hee hee :3 we are clink-clinking our wine glasses in commiseration

[iluvshinytwink]

Class Distraction : Jude Bellingham

"It's just like seeing her for the first time again."

Scenario: Jude remembers during your senior high school days when he'd stare at you with those softened, helpless eyes of his. :)

Song: For The First Time by Mac Demarco

AN: sorry for not posting during wednesday, i had a 3 day long school event where all i did was talk shit with my friends, watch volleyball games where i almost died (5 times), play with cards (it got confiscated), eat food, complain how hot it was and wasted money, very productive if u ask me!!!)

The idea of school love in general has me weak in the knees bro, genuinely when is it my turn.

It was undeniable how much Jude adored you. Every time he was done with training all he would think about is that when he'd come back home he could stare and admire you until daylight. He would actually melt when he'd stare at you. A small smile would be on his face and his eyes were focused on your facial features, never blinking. This was a habit that you knew all too well, you knew about this habit as early as your highschool days.

This habit all started when you changed your seat. You and Jude remember when the two of you never talked to each other the first week of being seatmates. You'd look at the board and Jude.. well he looked at you. It's safe to say the both of you were nervous to talk to each other the first week and so Jude expressed that by obliviously staring at you.

The fourth period started and the teacher jotted down notes on the board. Time to time you looked up and down from your notebook to copy them. Jude was following your steps but his eyes stopped looking at the board and wandered to you. He felt his heart jump for a second as he took in your every action. Your eyes rhythmically look up and down, the way your pen glided down the paper. He felt his world stop for a moment. Your eyes lost its momentum and you took a glance at your seatmate.

Your eyes met his and a small smile appeared on your face. Jude's back instinctively straightened yet his eyes never left yours. You felt a chuckle escape your lips and your smile widened. Jude smiled at you warmly.

"Ahem." Your teacher coughed. "Continue your smiling later. This discussion will be added to your quiz on Wednesday." Your teacher smiled at the two of you as your classmates giggled. "We weren't--" Jude defended. "Don't be shy now, Jude." Your teacher smiled as she turned back to the board. You found yourself looking back at Jude and he looked back at you. A smile appeared your face as you held back a chuckle. Jude found himself forming a smile of his own before turning back to his notebook.

Moments like those were prime examples of why the two of you were stricken for each other. A simple glace which seemingly turns into an hour long stare-- brushing of hands which turn into clasped hands, whom never let go of each other. These were the moments that made your love strong.

"Jude! Are you even listening?" You called your to your boyfriend, waving your hand around his face. Jude blinked and he straightened his back. "Huh?" Jude mumbled. You giggled at your boyfriend. "You never change, do you?" You smiled warmly. Jude smiled at you back. "Guess so." He chuckled.

(time check: 11:37 pm.. lawdy lawd. This is kind of doodoo but ill post another tomorrow cause i miss getting my notifs bombed every time i wake up 💔💔 thank you for 104 followers!! Love and appreciate all of y'all! Thank you for letting me know that ur all delulu like me 💋 anyways make sure to SMASHHHH THAG LIKE BUTTON AND SUBSCRIBE FOR MORE BANGERS LIKE THESE!)

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x you #iluvshinytwink #imsoslaying

[stevie-steven-stevington]

1-3 for the ask thing uwu

1. Tell us about your current project(s)  – what’s it about, how’s progress, what do you love most about it?

ok so. i have like....3 and a half? projects going on right now, in various states of progress from “actively working on and almost finished with” to “all i have is a few jotted down notes”. one of them is an original that i don’t wanna talk about on here for privacy reasons and shit (will tell you abt it if you pm me, bee) and one is a commission that i currently only have a premise and background info from the commissioner from bc i’m trying to finish this other project first but! i’ll talk about the other 2!

so one of them is my fic for marveltrumpshate, which. i should have done a long while back but then Shit Started Happening and it fell to the back burner and just hasn’t come back yet, but! it’s basically one of those “tony and peter gradually becoming family and learning how they fit with each other” fics - i’ve actually always wanted to write one of those and just never had the opportunity/energy to do it, so i’m excited about that. as of now i only have like 1 scene because i’m literally the worst and also MTH didn’t give an actual hard deadline and i. have ADHD. but yeah right now there’s not much to love but i do really like the amount of freedom that comes with writing one of these fics, since there’s so much empty time between SM-hoco and IW

the other is.......one of those “i don’t even go here but i got so attached to these 2 characters that didn’t turn out to be endgame and now i Have To” fics lol. i’m not gonna tell you the fandom. it’s not gonna happen, i literally hate the show and only watched it for like 4 characters out of the giant fucking ensemble cast and at this point i’m just here for 1 ship and that’s it. anyway though, it’s basically a rewrite of the latest season but this time with my ship as the main focus. it’s written as a series of scenes, started as a 5 + 1 and became.....an 11 + 1? we’re not gonna talk about that either. it’s sort of a showing of how one of the characters gradually realizes that he’s bisexual and in love with his best friend, who just recently came out too, while also dealing with deep-seated depression. i’m almost done with that one, i just have one scene left! and as for what i love most about it....i think just seeing the progression of the MC/narrator’s thoughts and feelings about his sexuality and mental health and like...the recurring motifs that i’ve sprinkled into it, like how the other character always taps his fingers on stuff when he’s anxious. it’s one of the only 20k+ fics i’ve written (which. it was meant to be like 5k max at first. it’s probably gonna be like 32k in the end. i hate myself) so it’s fun to see the progression from start to finish

2. Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project

the original project i have in the works! i’m not gonna say much, but i will say that it’s (hopefully) meant to be a YA novel, it’s very much a queer story, and it’s got my vibe written all over it lol

3. What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway)

so i feel like i definitely have one or two but i can’t think of any right now - i do, however! have a bunch of song lyrics that give me super vague but super palpable inspo so i’ll give yall some of those

“you left me stained, called it art” - trust my lonely, alessia cara

“i miss the days of a life still permanent” - i wanna get better, bleachers

“we might be hollow but we’re brave” - 400 lux, lorde

“only bad people live to see their likeness set in stone...what does that make me?” - still sane, also lorde

“the secrets you tell me, i’ll take to my grave. there’s bones in my closet, but you hang stuff anyway” - guillotine, jon bellion

the entirety of heather by conan gray

the switch from “how long can we keep this up” to “how long till we call this love” in distance by christina perri

“low on self-esteem, so you run on gasoline” - gasoline, halsey

“can’t take the kid from the fight, take the fight from the kid” - camisado, p!atd

“we tried the world, good god it wasn’t for us” and “with my mid-youth crisis all said and done, i need to be youthfully felt ‘cause god i’ve never felt young” - jackie and wilson, hozier

“my babe would never fret none, about what my hands and my body done. if the lord don’t forgive me, i’d still have my baby and my babe would have me” - work song, also hozier lol

the entirety of turning out pt ii by ajr, especially “you said you’d love me, no matter what. you said you loved me, is that what i loved?”

“and we’re not bruised, they’re just party tattoos” - party tattoos, dodie

#ask meme #shiskabubble #thanks for the ask love #writing #jude answers stuff #long post

[steebharringt0n]

sanctuary - part 3

summary: Subject 001. That’s what you’ve been called your whole life. You’ve known nothing but pain, violence, and isolation. You were their greatest secret weapon, but when your final mission is to ensure the end of the universe, you escape to Hawkins, Indiana to team up with Eleven and to put an end to all this chaos, once and for all - you just never expected to fall in love with the resident bad boy along the way.

rating: m

pairing: billy hargrove x reader

warning: graphic violence, slurs, abuse, curse words.

A/N: fuck episode 8. i am so upset. thank god for fanfiction amirite? i was too emotionally distrought to think of a better ending for this chapter, but things start picking up next chapter - i will include what happened to billy in season 3 in this story, with some obvious tweaks.

tagged list: @thefandomzoneisdangerous

001. prologue 002. firestarter

---

003. spitfire

“Pick your poison”

You stared at the plastic menu in front of you, not entirely sure what any of these foods were. It’s not like they fed you burgers and fries over at the military base. The options were overwhelming to you. Pancakes, hot dogs, milkshakes … was any of this good?

“I - I don’t know what to get …”

Billy put down his menu and stared at you, taking in your features a lot better now that you both sat under the bright light of the diner. Your (Y/H/C) hair was messy, as if it hadn’t been washed in days. The bruises around face, especially the one near your cheek looked more colorful than before. Hues of purple and yellow contrasted against your (Y/S/C) skin. The dark bags under your eyes made it seem as if you hadn’t slept in days.

You hadn’t.

“What, you’ve never had a cheeseburger before?” he questioned incredulously. You shook your head, “No, I don’t even know what this pancake food is. Is it any good?”

Billy scoffed loudly, “You’re joking right?”

Your eyes shifted around, cocking your head to the side, “No Billy, why would I lie to you?” your voice spoke softly.

He was taken aback by your comment. His shoulders relaxed and a soft expression appeared on his face, “You’re right … I’m sorry. I’m kinda new to this whole being nice thing” he muttered. 

A loud noise coming from the back of the kitchen from the diner distracted the both of you from your conversation. A tall, lanky waitress with thin hair was sauntering over, her face looking very annoyed. Billy quickly lowered his head towards you, “Whatever you do, don’t say a word. I’ll do the talking” he hissed at you quickly.

You nodded solemnly. He was the only one that had helped you get this far - the least you could is follow his instructions.

The waitress then appeared to your table. Smacking her gum loudly, a notepad in her hand. She glanced over at you, then frowned, “Boy kid, what happened to your face?”

You stared at her blankly, not knowing exactly what to do in this situation which was strange because you always knew what to do in sticky situations. It usually resulted in someone getting hurt or dying though. This situation however, was different. You never really interacted with people outside of the men that usually monitored your every move, so social cues were hard for you to grasp, along with sarcasm and certain expressions. Your eyes slowly shifted to look at Billy, waiting for him to speak on your behalf. 

“Car accident. Nasty one. Just got out of the hospital so we’re celebrating, right?” he gave you a hard looking, pressing on the fact that he needed you to play along with his little game. So you did.

“Yup. Car accident” was all you said. 

“She’s gonna take the cheeseburger with fries, I’m just gonna have a chocolate milkshake” He quickly said, trying to divert the conversation back. The waitress quickly jotted the food down on her notepad. She turned on her heel and disappeared back into the kitchen.

Billy let out a breath of air from his mouth, sinking back into his seat. “That was close. Nice playing along”

You nodded, fiddling with the large sleeve of your hoodie as silence settled between the two of you. You weren’t exactly the best at holding conversations, and neither was Billy. You mostly spoke when you were spoken to, and Billy just usually avoided people unless he was trying to get in someone’s pants.

“So uh,” he started, trying to break the awkwardness, “How did you uh, manage to make your way to this hellhole?”

You shrugged. “I killed a guy, stole his wallet, bought a plane ticket and walked the rest of my way here.” you spoke so nonchalantly it sent chills down his spine. The way you spoke about certain things had a sense of innocence to them, but the fact that you could easily kill the next person that walked in the diner almost terrified him. You stopped fiddling with your sleeve when you realized Billy was quiet.

“I’m not a monster you know” you quietly said, your eyes avoiding his blue ones. “I know I have these ... powers ... and I know I’ve used them to hurt people ... but I’m not a monster” your voice was full of emotion. Billy shifted in his seat, his lips pressed together, not sure how to respond to you. He knew what other people at school saw him as. 

A bully, an asshole, a womanizer.

But in reality, Billy was a broken man, misunderstood. Seeing you become vulnerable in front of him tugged at his heart strings - which surprised him since not many things could make him feel so emotional.

“What are you?” he quietly asked.

You shrugged again, “I know as much as you do. They kept me in the dark. I was used to kill important people, people who would get in the way of their plan”

Billy’s eyes narrowed, “Who’s they?”

“The Russians, sometimes they would lend me to other people - to kill you know? I’m assuming they probably got paid money for it. Brenner always told me I was their prized possession. I was trained for as long as I could remember, until I perfected my powers.”

Billy tensed up, his leg twitching under the table, “So what other powers do you have?”

“Just the fire stuff - plus I’m really strong” you grinned at him. From the way you were shaped there was no way anyone would know what you could snap a tree in half with your bare hands. 

“Yeah, I figured that much” he glanced down at his wrist, rotating it to make sure that it was still working. 

You pressed your lips together, your expression softening, feeling guilty that you had hurt him earlier. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you … I just don’t - “

“- like being grabbed at … I get it. My old man can be hard on me sometimes” 

Your eyebrows etched together, “Old man? You have an old man?”

Billy let out a laugh, “It’s another expression. It’s my dad. He’s a piece of shit”

You noticed his face hardening at the mention of his dad, his whole body stiffening. Unsure how to comfort him, you hesitantly reached out and placed a hand over his, warmth emitting from your palm. He looked up at you, his face now softening at the mere touch of his hand. His blue eyes boring into your (E/C) eyes. There was that feeling again, the feeling of butterflies in your stomach. You brushed it off this time, wanting to make sure that he was okay. 

“Brenner is a piece of shit too. I understand”

There was a moment of silence between the two of you. Billy didn’t move his hand away, rather enjoying the warmth from your hand. Your touch was such a small gesture, but to Billy kindness was something he really didn’t get too much often. Not since his mom had left anyways.

The silence was broken by the waitress barging out of the kitchen. You quickly swiped your hand away from Billy - as if you were doing something inappropriate and didn’t want to get caught. She placed the cheeseburger in front of you, and the milkshake in front of Billy who murmured a thanks before she made her way back into the kitchen.

You took a deep breath, the smell of the beef and cheese hitting your nostrils. It was magnificent. You had never smelled anything so amazing before, your mouth was watering, your eyes were gleaming with excitement. Food was always given to you, but you were on a strict diet, to keep your body as fit as could be. But this? This was different. Billy watched you amusedly as he ripped open a straw and placed it in his milkshake.

“Well go on, take a bite” he urged.

Your hands picked up the large burger and you took a bite. Your eyes widened, the different flavors hitting your tongue, your taste buds were on fire. You closed your eyes, relishing the taste in your mouth, chewing ever so slowly so that you could taste every ingredient. 

“Oh my god” you moaned. Billy couldn’t help but grin at you, it was like watching a little kid eat a burger for the first time.

“This is the most amazing thing I have ever tasted in my whole life!” you exclaimed, taking another large bite.

“You should try the fries - with ketchup” he advised, taking a sip of his milkshake.

He reached over to the end of the booth and grabbed the red bottle at the end. He leaned over and drizzled ketchup over your fries, quickly taking a fry with him but you didn’t mind. You picked up a fry and placed it in your mouth. Another loud moan came from you, your eyes almost rolling in the back of your head.

“Billy. This is amazing, this has been the best day of my life” you spoke with food in your mouth but he didn’t care, he was too amused at all your reactions.

Billy glanced up at the clock on the wall. 11 pm. Shit, it was getting late.

“Hey, uh, I’m gonna go use the bathroom real quick. Stay put, don’t destroy anything” he jokingly added. You were too engrossed in your burger to give him any real attention, so you just waved him off as he quickly rose up and made his way to the back of the diner. He turned the corner and walked over to the payphone that was next to the bathrooms. He looked over his shoulder, making sure that you weren’t following him.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the Wheeler’s number, dialing it quickly as he held the phone between his head and shoulders.

A soft voice answered the phone, “Wheeler residence”

“Hey, Mrs. Wheeler it’s Billy”

Her voice suddenly went up a couple of octaves, “Billy! Hello! Calling so late, is everything okay?”

Billy shuffled his feet, “Yeah, um, is Nancy there? I need to ask her about an assignment”

There was a momentary pause on the other side. Billy heard shuffling and voices, “Yes, she’s here, - Nance! Hey Nance! Billy’s on the phone for you!”

Billy heard the phone being passed off. Mrs. Wheeler’s soft voice was replaced by Nancy’s nervous one. “Hi, Billy?”

“Wheeler. I’m gonna make this quick. I need your help.”

There was another pause, and then more shuffling. “Hey mom, I’m gonna take this phone call upstairs” Nancy announced to her mother. Billy heard the thudding of footsteps as Nancy made her way into her bedroom.

“Hargrove, what the hell do you want?” her voice suddenly became cold.

“One of Eleven’s buddies is here and I can’t watch her” he spoke in a hushed tone.

“What? Her buddies? What do you mean?”

“Wheeler, I need to bring her to your house. She can’t stay at mine” he pressed on.

“Hargrove, what the hell are you talking about?!” she questioned hotly.

“I can’t explain right now, I don’t have time, but I need to come over.” His foot was twitching at this point.

He felt Nancy’s hesitation, but she finally responded. “Okay, okay. Um, meet me by my back gate in 15 minutes”

“Deal”

He hung up the phone. He was making his way back to the booth when he caught a certain red car out of the corner of his eye. His face blanched and he felt his stomach drop when he realized who’s car that was.

“Shit. Shit. Fuck” 

He turned the corner and saw Tommy H. with Alex M. towering over you. You looked small, cowering in the booth. They both were laughing loudly, picking and eating the large fries that were sitting in front of you.

You looked up from the table and made eye contact with Billy, the look in your eyes were pleading for him to stop this.

“Tommy, Alex, what the hell are you guys doing here?” Billy’s voice was low, rough.

Tommy and Alex stopped laughing and turned to their attention to the familiar voice behind them. Billy hated dealing with those 2, along with Carol. They were the bane of his existence - and yet they followed him around like a lost puppy dog.

“Hargrove! I didn’t know you liked to screw around with fucked up chicks!” Tommy exclaimed, glancing back at your cowered frame. The words stung, but you remained quiet, letting Billy take over the situation. “We spotted your car so we knew we had to stop in”

“You guys need leave now” his voice was terrifying low now. Anger was starting to set in and you could hear it in his voice.

Alex let out a nervous laugh, “Hargrove, c’mon, it’s us. We just want to know who your little friend is” Alex walked over and patted Billy on his shoulder. Billy just stared at him in disgust.

“Yeah, like is she good in the sack? Does she give good head?” Tommy quickly added, reaching down and taking another fry, staring at you with a smirk on his face. 

Your hand twitched from under the table. Your temper rising.

Not a monster, not a monster, not a monster

You repeated that mantra in your head.

Billy stared at his friend, his mouth set in a hard line. Although you had no idea what ‘in the sack’ or ‘give good head’ meant, you knew it had some sort of sexual connotation with it with the way they were eyeing you up and down. If Billy Hargrove had fucked her - odds are she was a good fuck and they wanted a taste.

Tommy looked down at you again, “I’d give her an 7, maybe an 8 if she didn’t looked so fucked up” he sneered.

Billy could hear the muscles in your jaw crack as you clenched your jaw. Your expression hardening as Tommy casually reached his hand down again to grab another fry.

Game over

But before his fingers could even touch a fry, you quickly grabbed his wrist, slamming his hand down on the table so hard you could hear the joints in his hand. Tommy wailed in pain, his eyes widening so hard it looked like it was going to bulge out of his face. You stood up from your seat, keeping his hand pinned to the table. 

“Call me fucked up one. more. time”  you hissed at him, your jaw set as you stared at him. You maintained eye contact with him as he whimpered in pain. You could feel the table starting to crack as you pressed down harder. Tommy’s face twisted in agony, his mouth letting out a loud scream.

Your palm started to feel hot, you were so close to burning his hand off when Billy quickly ran over and yanked you away by your arm. Tommy collapsed to the ground, tears streaming down his face as he grabbed his hand to his chest. Alex ran over to his friend, picking him up from the floor.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” he spoke to you through gritted teeth. You snatched away your arm from his grip. But before you could give him an answer  the waitress suddenly came barging through, her eyes scanning the scene.

“All of you! Out of here!” she yelled at the four of you.

Billy walked around his two friends, reaching into his pocket and slamming a twenty dollar bill next to your plate. He grabbed your hand, leading you outside to his car without saying a word.

He quickly ushered you in his car, making his way around to the driver’s side and opening up the door. He quickly sat down and started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot so quickly it made your head spin. 

“You can’t fucking pull shit like that! What the hell were you thinking?!” he screamed at you, reaching for his pack of cigarettes in his center console.

“I was defending myself! I wasn’t going to let him speak to me like that” you retorted back.

“Yeah? By breaking his hand?! Real fucking smart!”

“Fuck you!”

“No fuck you!”

You were breathing heavily, your heart felt like it was going to pound out of your chest. But you were so angry, incredibly angry. How dare he question your right to defend yourself. Billy reached for his zippo lighter and flicked it open, trying to light it but was unsucessful. He angrily chucked it by his feet, feeling frustrated. You instinctivly reached over and snapped your fingers, emitting a flame from your hand.

Billy looked over at you. Your nostrils flaring and your eyes burning with anger. but yet you still had the kindness in you to help light his cigarette. 

You were spitfire and crazy. Bruised and broken. Just like him. 

He had never had someone - let alone a girl - speak to him to the way you just did. But it made you all the more interesting to him. Although he would have never admitted it at the moment but seeing Tommy H cry like a baby almost made him want to smile.

He leaned over to the flame, cigarette in his mouth. It quickly lit and he took a deep inhale.

You let the flame disappear from your hand. Crossing your arms, a scowl on your face as you both drove towards the Wheeler residence in silence.

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove imagine

[sanatozakisana]

Feel 느낌

Part 2

LOVE ME- THE 1975

The plane touched down at around 11 am. The weather in Japan was a bit gloomy, especially now that December had closed in. The snow was visibly building up on the side of streets and there were several warning cones too. Dahyun took care of the bags while she let Sana wear her favorite burnt orange winter coat. It was almost like her second skin during winter time, Dahyun thought.

Waiting outside the airport for a taxi, they both sat down on a bench while Sana phoned the Airbnb room owner.

“Good morning Ms. Junji! Yes, yes. I’ve caught the directions. Thank you so much for sending them in advance!” Dahyun looked intently at Sana.

“I could never ever have her phone manners.” She thought to herself. The ‘how did I get so lucky’ thoughts eventually twisted into ‘you’re gonna have a large neon sign fall on you’ as she remembered something.

This is terrible.

Her head was swarming with hornets. A trip is what they came here for. A big, grand trip. Trips have to come with itineraries. A plan, exactly yes. Problem was, Dahyun had to be very excited to leave her list of ‘things to buy’ and ‘where to go’ in their apartment. She didn’t even keep a copy in her phone! She just had to be very traditional and write things down on a quiz-size paper.

And yes, it wasn’t Dahyun’s first time in Japan but since she insisted to Sana that she plan their trip, she jotted down places in Tokyo where Sana mentioned she hasn’t been to before.

A taxi halted in front of them. “Baby girl, come on. Ms. Junji already left the key under the rug. We wouldn’t want to take too long.” Sana urged Dahyun to go faster as they both lugged their bags to the taxi’s trunk.

The bustling streets of Japan steered Dahyun's emotions into the whirlwind of last year. The trip wasn't exactly as planned as they stayed long than intended because 'someone' just had to leave a conversation with their girlfriend open on their phone, so the girlfriend's little sister snatched the phone and read messages aloud. During dinner. With the parents.

It must've been the:

4:37 pm Sana: "i'm wearing the red lace tonight ;) "

4:38 pm Dahyun: "Dying to take it off :p"

Or maybe the little sister's awkward inquiry to the parents of "What's a red lace?" that sent Dahyun to become a spontaneous combusting mess. The parents didn't mind at first. They just looked at Sana and Dahyun like deer caught in headlights. Sana was tightly grasping her fork, cheeks puffed up with air and was ready to run a marathon back to Korea. Meanwhile, Dahyun took the chance of snatching her phone back from Sana's little sister, Hitomi, while the girl questioningly looks at everyone.

"Hitomi dear, would you like to watch TV? I heard your favorite cartoon is on!" Mr. Minatozaki escorted Hitomi to the back side of the house where their large living room is. The couple heard the TV turn on, followed by Hitomi's giggles and cartoonish dialogue. They both eased up.

"So, would you like to tell us something Sana?" Mr. Minatozaki walked back and appeared to have said it sternly than he intended. Sana once more looked up with shocked, rounded eyes.

"Uhh... Well, I was going to tell you anyway. When we go hiking next week. It's not easy for me to be so upfront about it knowing that you both have a chance of resenting me after I---"

Sana was cut off by her parents' laughter. On the other hand, Dahyun was looking like a lost child.

"Honey, do you really think that way about us?" Mrs. Minatozaki feigned offense for their daughter's rather assuming statement.

"We love you no matter what." Sana' mom continued. "I knew you were something special. And knowing this part of you honey..." Mrs. Minatozaki's voice cracked with emotions. "This just makes you more special." They hugged tightly. Sana audibly released air that was trapped inside her lungs from being a nervous wreck.

"I agree honey. But let's not get dramatic okay? We knew from the start who you were," Mr. Minatozaki turned to Dahyun, "My sweet little Dahyunnie". He mimicked Sana's seductive voice (probably overheard it because of Sana's careless nature), sending everyone in the dining room in a fit of laughter, others in a more nervous tone.

"Ya! Pa, stop embarrassing me!" Sana pouted as she turned red as a tomato.

"What's that kids say these days?" Mrs. Minatozaki asked in between warm giggles. "We been---"

"We been knew. Yes, you guys can both send me off a cliff." Sana said shyly, glancing at Dahyun who was visibly amused by what was happening. They had stayed in the Minatozaki household for a week and a half now. Sana's parents were very welcoming to Dahyun as they both gave her the biggest and warmest hug on her first day. Sana did introduce her as her best friend, but she noticed the quick exchange of 'is that so' glances between her parents.

Dinner night concluded with Dahyun as the receiving end of the Minatozakis' excruciatingly humourous jokes. She melted and blended into the family like butter. She wished that this feeling wouldn't disappear and last as long as she and Sana loved each other.

Mr. and Mrs. Minatozaki then offered Dahyun that she stay a bit longer in Japan, as Dahyun's presence in Sana's life made their daughter more joyful than how she already is. Dahyun piqued their interest and they wanted to know her more as how any parent would want to meet the future spouse of their children and secretly, how Dahyun treats Sana.

In conclusion, due to the dinner fiasco last year and being Christmas season and all, Dahyun and Sana didn't want to bother the Minatozaki household by staying there as Sana's parents told her that they'll be holding a Christmas party for all their co-workers and rich neighbors. They instead booked their Airbnb in Shibuya, deciding they stay at the capital where Sana hadn't been before, aside from her short visits.

"Here we are." Sana stretched her back and cracked her knuckles as they both step out the taxi. Dahyun was checking her phone for text messages.

The apartment was two storeys, big and the exterior looked so chic and clean with its two-tone black and white paint. They were to occupy the second floor. It was a studio-type, overlooking the football park outside. They were in Nishihara, Shibuya. It's an easy location to access every destination in Tokyo as they were slightly in the middle of everything.

2 message from Chaengchaeng

12:42 pm Chaengchaeng: Hope you and Shiba Sana have a blasting mother effin' time there!!... since u chose not to include me in ur trip.

12:42 pm Chaengchaeng: Just kidding! But seriously, they're selling tons of strawberries in Tokyo markets!!! ehem....

Dahyun smiled at the texts. Then she remembered the amnesiac person she was before they flew to Japan. In her head were voices of ugly grynches and lepricons maliciously attacking her saying, "You better think fast. From Shibuya to the trainyard ya go!!!" Dahyun was irked.

"Sana, Chaeng just gave me her list of things to buy and..." She paused as she looked up and saw how the apartment looked.

"Baby, I didn't picture it'd be this cool!" Dahyun roamed her eyes on the street surrounding the apartment, filled with winter sakuras.

#saida #saida fics #sana #dahyun #twice #kim dahyun #sana minatozaki #sanaxdahyun

[wardencommanderrodimiss]

Witches, Chapter 11: I split another giant chapter in half. In this portion, I set up a filler case that exists purely to set the scene and allow me to make up two very bad AA-style pun names; shit hasn’t quite gotten real but it sure is about to; and Athena makes some new friends.

[Seelie of Kurain Chapter Masterlist] [ao3]

[Witches Chapter Masterlist] [ao3]

----

The Wright Anything Agency isn’t lucky.

Apollo should just expect that from the start. He didn’t, this time, because he trusted Phoenix - that being a loaded statement - to know what he was talking about and assumed - bad idea - that if he bothered to say Tenma Taro would be weaker at midsummer, then there was some chance of waiting. That it would lay low to wait out the fervor of the trial and the attention turned toward the Vale. That it wouldn’t wreak havoc immediately.

But they’re just a few days into May when the office phone rings with a call from a young woman who lives in Tenma Town and has been charged with robbing her prior place of employment. “Jinxie Tenma gave me your number,” she says, in between sobs, “and said you would believe me th - that - that I think Tenma Taro did it.”

“Of course we believe you,” Apollo assures her. Athena stands on her chair, propping herself on her desk, leaning forward to listen. With her ears, she can probably hear the other end of the line just fine. She might also be able to hear Apollo’s - not doubt, exactly, or disbelief, but the uncertainty he keeps feeling over Tenma Taro. None of them have seen it. They have Filch’s word, and they all know he wasn’t lying, but could he have been mistaken? Could Phoenix’s fae ‘friends’ have been mistaken in what they thought Phoenix was asking them about?

(He doubts it, but he still doesn’t think he knows well enough what they’re getting into.)

Athena searched all of LA’s used car lots for one that was yellow - “I’m like the cab driver for all of you at the agency, and also I just love yellow” - and with a new-old car they take the well-worn path back up to Nine-Tails Vale. Tenma Town is perched a little higher up the valley but has a similar old-fashioned cobblestone vibe, though some more modern office buildings dot the streets here and there. The town square is centered on a large fountain and a statue that Apollo doesn’t think is Tenma Taro, but it’s birdlike enough that it evokes that image. 

Their client, Isabella Pyrria - picked up overnight, released on bail in the morning, returned home, and called them as soon as she made it back - is still teary-eyed when they meet her at a bench by the fountain. She explains that she likes to go on walks in the evenings and her favorite route goes past the antiques store she was fired from at the beginning of April, and she hadn’t bothered to change her route because a lot of cool moths congregate under the awning at the cafe next door. She pulls out her phone to show them pictures. Athena nods at each photo, solemnly and knowingly. “I’m more of a marine mammals person myself,” she says, “but I like the fuzzy ones and their…” She holds her hands to her forehead, two fingers raised on each, and wiggles them. “Antenna. What’re your favorite animals, Apollo?”

“Can we get back to the case, please?” he asks.

Isabella swears to them that when she passed by the store sometime around 10 pm, there was nothing wrong. She didn’t stop long to investigate this spring’s batch of caterpillars, because she was trying to get to the corner store before it closed, because she hadn’t had anything for dinner. She made it there, stayed until closing chatting with the owner and petting the bodega cat, and when she came back out she heard the sirens and saw the police cruiser lights. 

The antique store’s security camera, mounted outside above the door, broke two months ago and was never fixed, but only employees knew this. Security tapes from cameras outside other buildings further down the street in both directions showed she was the only person who had passed by either. Anyone walking to the antiques store would be spotted by either of those.

“But Tenma Taro doesn’t have to walk,” Isabella says. “It could just fly straight down and land in front and not be seen.”

“Why would a yokai rob an antiques store?” Athena asks. “Why would a yokai rob anywhere?”

“To cause chaos?” Apollo suggests. What do yokai even do - they’re all so very individual? He did some cursory internet research but couldn’t find anything on Tenma Taro; it might as well have just come out of nowhere here in California. The scroll Jinxie said was the only image of it really is only one of two, the Forbidden Chamber scroll showing the gold ore being the other. 

“I don’t know why anyone would rob that antiques store,” Isabella says, toying with the hair tie around her wrist. “It’s got pretty stuff but it’s all cheap. There’s nothing worth taking there.”

Her fingers, plucking at the hair tie and smacking it against her wrist, are illuminated red. “Ms Pyrria,” Apollo says. “Are you being fully honest with us? There really isn’t anything that you or anyone would want to take?”

She lowers her eyes to her hands. “We did have, um, a coupon deal with a really good pizza place over in the Vale. Supposed to give one out with every purchase but I kinda just, um, took a whole bunch once I got fired. But that was it.”

That looks true. Apollo glances to Athena, who nods with a secondary confirmation. Okay. They’ve got this much figured out. Now to the scene of the crime.

The antique shop’s windows are shattered, everything that was displayed in them cracked and shattered across the floor inside and the sidewalk outside. Athena leans into the window to examine a typewriter. “You don’t think there could’ve been some kind of magic artifact in here that it wanted to get?” Apollo asks. “Something languishing as just a normal family heirloom that someone dumped off here?”

“Ooh, maybe,” Athena says. “I guess they’d probably have to take inventory to really find out if stuff’s missing, and this is uh - big mess.” She points with her thumb at the police tape across the doorway. “Can we just head in?”

“Er—” They should probably introduce themselves to a detective first, lower the chances of being yelled at once they’re inside. Apollo glances in through the doorway, hoping to catch sight of anyone in there investigating. Maybe most of the investigating already happened? “I guess…?”

Before he’s really finished saying it, Athena ducks under the tape and heads inside. Apollo lifts it up to follow her. If he’s honest with himself he’s not sure what he hopes they can find. Feathers again, maybe? The interior of the shop is densely packed with tables and shelving upturned and overturned, and what would have once been a clear path or two through are cluttered. Apollo steps over a tall wicker flower stand, lying on its side, and a pillow that was probably hand-embroidered. Athena has stopped with her neck craned to the side, reading the titles of the few books still left on a shelf. 

Oh, this is going to be rough, to stay focused, when this isn’t a murder and there’s not a particular area, the place where a body was, the place where the killing happened, to hone in on. He’s defended a smattering of other cases between the large nightmarish ones that weren’t murders, but neither did they have very complicated scenes. And no co-counsel distracted by knick-knacks, either. 

“Athena,” he says. She jumps, already having become engrossed. “We should probably give the whole place a once-over, see if anything jumps out, find a detective to talk to, and then we can try and look for anything else that—”

“Hey!” A woman’s voice cuts through the stillness, a loud, indignant squawk. “Who’s in here? This is a - oh! Yo! Apolly!”

Athena’s eyebrows rise and disappear beneath her bangs. “D-Detective Faraday?” Apollo asks, turning around and unable to look for her due to making sure he doesn’t place his feet on anything breakable. 

“Long time no see!” Kay chirps, with an air of familiarity that far surpasses the scant two times they’ve actually met. From New Years he’s pretty sure that she gives Y-suffix nicknames to everyone she can, but that doesn’t make it any better when Athena is snickering at him. “I mean, I expected to see you soon, what with Tenma Taro, but not quite this soon. And who’s this?” She extends a hand to Athena. “Hi, I’m Detective Kay Faraday!”

“Defense attorney Athena Cykes!” The two seem to be competing to see who can more enthusiastically shake the other’s hand. “Nice to meet you! What can you tell us about the case so far?”

Laughing brightly, Kay shakes her head, her black hair flying everywhere. “I’m not Emmy,” she says. “I’m not just gonna purposely give up the prosecution’s whole case right here. Besides.” She props her hands on her hips. “Tonight we’re going hunting for Tenma Taro anyway, and I’m sure you’ll get enough accidental stuff from us on how we totally believe yeah, it’s that big ol’ turkey causing trouble.”

Athena asks who “Emmy” is, and as Kay explains Ema and her general lack of concern for prosecutorial secrecy, Apollo picks his way through the mess to a door left ajar in the back, into a smaller, even more cluttered room, where none of the objects still left on the shelving have price tags. Prosecutor Debeste stands wedged between a rocking chair and a dresser with a shattered mirror, his upper body twisted awkwardly to give him room to move his arms and jot something down in a little notebook. “Where’s the line between antiques and junk?” Apollo asks, deciding that there is no good way any further into this room, and since he can see most of it, he should probably just stay planted here in the doorway.

“How much it sells for, maybe?” Sebastian offers up weakly. “Is this a trick question?”

“I guess it is, since I don’t have an answer.” Apollo has difficulty trying to survey the room; there’s too much going on, too much clutter that keeps drawing his eye one way and then another, and it takes longer than he thinks it should for him to notice the deep scratches in the wall. Three rivets straight down, tearing apart the wallpaper and wood, about two inches in between them, spaced like claw marks. “Do you have an explanation for that?” he asks, pointing to it.

Sebastian shakes his head and his glasses slide down his nose. “Not really a plausible one besides ‘giant bird monster’. The defendant could persum - presumably have made them with something she found laying around here, there’s some old farm tools kinds of things, but then the question is—”

“Why bother?” 

Sebastian nods sharply. “Exactly. It’s not a message or any code or something that the shop owner recognizes, and it would be a waste of time with more chance to be caught. And with—” He points down, in front of Apollo, and Apollo examines the floor to see more gashes in the wood, of the same spacing as those on the wall, like a giant bird-monster walking about on its talons. “That, too.” 

And maybe someone’s trying to frame a yokai for the crime, again, play on those fears, but it seems like even more effort to go to. “Is there anything noticeably missing?” Apollo asks. Plenty could be not-so-noticeably missing, all kinds of little knick-knacks, but that can’t be the purpose - no one is going to rob a store for 25-cent porcelain cat figurines. “Cash register, or any large or valuable stuff?”

“The register hadn’t been touched,” Sebastian says. “No fingerprints, nothing missing. The only thing the owner noticed so far and told me is that back here she had - she said it was a weird-looking stone she’d never figured out a price for because she didn’t know what it was or was made of. She said it was roughly” - he holds up his hands, less then a foot apart, and cupped toward each other. “And shaped like a six.”

Apollo’s stomach sinks, which has become a very familiar sensation in this kind of context. “A magatama?” he asks, pressing a hand to his forehead. He knew this wouldn’t be a normal case. It’s still going terribly. “A large magatama? That would be reason enough for Tenma Taro to break into a random human establishment, more than just scaring the townspeople.”

“If I were trying to scare the town, I’d hit up more than one place,” Athena says. She leans against the doorframe and peers in, as Kay attempts to squeeze in around her and past Apollo. “Just make it a random selection, no pattern, and not attack everywhere. Leave some dread that I’ll come back and get some of the people I spared before.”

“Dread’s a key part,” Kay agrees. “Especially drop some warning in advance, not enough for anyone to be able to stop you, but just enough to make them all anxious and freaked out waiting for the worst.”

“Okay, so you’re both evil,” Apollo says. Athena chortles and Kay breaks into full cackling. “That’s probably a good thing for me to know ahead of time, before we get any further on this.”

“Before we venture into the woods in the dark with them, you mean,” Sebastian says.

“In the dark?” Apollo repeats. “In the—”

“We’ve got, uh, ‘sources’,” Kay says, making the quotation marks with one hand, while in the other she holds and examines a teacup that had managed to survive the initial catastrophe. “Informants who’ve been keeping an eye out to make sure things don’t go belly-up without us knowing.”

“Like other detectives or officers or something?” Athena asks, with a few wide-eyed blinks of confusion. 

“Something,” Sebastian agrees. Apollo makes a note to himself to look out for crows. “But we know Tenma Taro doesn’t emerge during the day. You’ll have time to investigate in town; Ms Teak, the shop owner, went out for lunch but she told us she would be coming back, uh…” Sebastian checks his watch, pushing apart his sleeve and his glove to get to its face. “Soon? She lives above the shop, which is how she knew about the crime so quickly.”

“We should definitely talk to her, then,” Athena says. “And then at sunset we’ve got a whole new investigation to start!”

-

Ms Teak is a short, white-haired old lady who invites Apollo and Athena up to her living quarters above the shop, offers them tea, and insists that they call her “Auntie” even after they tell her they are Isabella’s lawyers. “That girl,” she says with a sad shake of her head, nearly spilling the tea that she pours for Athena, and Athena almost jostles the pot out of her hands eagerly trying to reach over and steady it. “She’s a sweet girl, but her head’s so far up in the clouds at the best of times. I just couldn’t keep rebalancing the register because she got her math all wrong. Or I’d tell her where to go clean and find an hour later she hadn’t done anything because she’d started with dusting the bookshelf and started thumbing through the first book to catch her eye. Cookies, dears?”

“Er, no thanks,” Apollo says at the same time Athena says, “Sure! Thank you very much!”

Depending on what sorts of witnesses she takes this offer from, she might end up in big trouble; but Apollo showed the blackmail letter to L’Belle and he stole it and destroyed it, so maybe he’s not that much better at proper witness protocol. Other subjects that should probably be taught in law school.

“I hate to think that such a sweet girl would be capable of this,” Ms Teak continues, returning to the small round table and setting down a little plate of tea biscuits. All of the decor of the house is mismatched, like it’s all come out of the antiques store at some point or another: a wicker chair next to a polished brown wood one next to a bar stool of almost equal height to the table, a white-and-gold teapot on a blue porcelain saucer, a cutting board shaped like a pig hanging on the kitchen wall visible from where they now sit in the tiny cramped dining area. “I had to let her go, you understand. It simply wasn’t working out. But I’ve got no ill-will toward the dear girl, and I’d hoped she had none toward me. Oh, dear, dear.” She pulls the wicker chair away from the table, that Apollo now can see the green flowered seat cushion and the pillow with an embroidered - opossum? Is that a possum? - resting against the back. 

“How did she react when you told her that you were firing her?” Apollo asks. He watches Athena reach slowly for another cookie, like if she moves slow enough she won’t be noticed, and when she returns it to her mouth she nibbles at it like a squirrel, if a squirrel were nibbling because it realized it isn’t professional or polite to just scarf it down. 

“Oh, the poor thing cried, of course. So embarrassed and ashamed of all the mistakes she’d made. Hated to think she’d failed at anything though I tried so hard to assure her that just because she wasn’t good at some things didn’t mean she wouldn’t find a passion that she could get her head locked into.”

“Yeah, I got a big sense of shame and sadness when she mentioned being fired, too,” Athena says quietly, tapping at the side of Widget. “Definitely not anything vindictive.”

“I do hope you’re right,” Ms Teak says. “I do hope you and that other nice young pair - how old are you? I swear all of you professional-types get younger and younger these days - can make sure she didn’t do it and find who did.” She sighs. “And I’ve got to clean up that mess they made, and I’d just gotten done all my spring reorganizing of the shop done, too.”

“The stone that was stolen from the back room,” Apollo says. “The prosecutor mentioned that. Do you remember where that came from originally?”

“Oh, I had that old thing for years,” Ms Teak replies. “Maybe a decade or more, now. I don’t quite remember when but my memory is sharp that it was Ms Tenma, rest her soul - the mayor’s wife, I mean, dear little Jinxie’s mother - who brought it in, asked me if I’d ever seen anything like it and told me she didn’t want it back, that I was free to sell it or get rid of it however I like. She said she didn’t know what it was either, but it made her so uneasy she wanted it out. Didn’t ask where she got it from, didn’t feel that was my business. Strange things happen in this town, you know.”  

Apollo knows. Apollo knows well that this one of, but not the only, the towns where strange things happen. Ms Teak glares at them over her teacup. “Best not to ask, sometimes.” She says it like advice, a warning. “And I kept telling myself I should get rid of it, but I’ve been so darned curious that I could never make myself ask for a few dollars for it, or just throw it in a river, you understand?” She shakes her head, sending her white curls bouncing. “Maybe whatever it belongs to wanted it back now, and poor Isabella’s lucky she wasn’t walking past at the time it arrived. Though maybe sharp young lawyers like you two don’t believe in that sort of thing?” She raises an eyebrow as she takes another sip of her tea.

“We’re the lawyers who defended Mayor Tenma when he was charged with murder last month,” Apollo says, hoping that the mayor’s popularity has continued to climb, hoping that he was never so hated here in Tenma Town, and that his saying this won’t be a black mark. “We’re, um, familiar with the goings-on around here.”

“That was you?” she asks, surprised, setting down her teacup and saucer. “My goodness. All of those big cases you must get, if the mayor chose you as his lawyers, and here you are up this way for little Isabella.”

“We don’t really—” Apollo begins, because really, it was a lucky fluke that they got to represent the mayor, and luckier that they didn’t entirely blow it, but Athena kicks him in the shin before he can correct Ms Teak on their office’s humble and confusing existence. 

“Thank you darlings oh so much for helping out our little town, once again.”

“It’s our pleasure!” Athena replies, taking another cookie. 

-

“She’s the most pleasant witness we’ve ever had!” Athena says brightly, once they’ve left behind the shop to compile their information back in the sunlight of the street. “What a great chance of pace!”

“You’ve had exactly one case before this,” Apollo says. “You can’t say that like—”

“Like Filch and L’Belle weren’t both terrible?” Athena interrupts. She’s unequivocally correct, of course, even without her knowing that Apollo, after his first case, would have had the same reaction to a cooperative, forthcoming, honest, friendly client; after dealing with Olga Orly, Phoenix, and Kristoph. Apollo would have had this same response, but didn’t, because all of the witnesses in his second case were also terrible. 

She grins at his silence, knowing what it means, and from her skirt pocket produces yet another cookie. 

-

The alderman’s manor and garden are closed to the public of Nine-Tails Vale - and indeed, anywhere else - for the foreseeable future, but Jinxie still has possession of the master key and has been in to clean up and keep dust from gathering. “The alderman’s wife is still in the hospital,” she explains, “but Papa and I went to see her and she told us that she trusted the town was in good hands with us.” She squares her shoulders, a stack of charms still arrayed in her hand, ready to strike, but instead of slapping one onto Apollo’s head she just offers one to him and Athena. “So we can’t let her down!”

Kay sits on the carpet in the foyer with three boxes of pizza and one of breadsticks. “Ms Teak let me and Sebby take some coupons!” she chirps. “I thought it’s important that we all get some food in us before we head out! Sebby’s on his way over, but I flew out here ahead of time to get us food. You’re welcome!” She waves a breadstick at them and Athena enthusiastically flings herself to the floor, Jinxie sinking down with a bit more grace. 

Out the window, the sun is no longer visible, its last vestiges of light barely illuminating the horizon, but the sky is still the light blue of early dusk, nothing that Apollo would yet be worried about roaming around in. Sebastian arrives, with Phoenix and Trucy trailing him, in the blue-black, when several stars are visible along with the moon. “Papa’s up in the Fox Chamber,” Jinxie tells Phoenix. “Trying to get the Forbidden Chamber back in order, make sure it’s all set up.” She offers all three of them warding charms, as she had before. “And he’s talking to the woman who showed up earlier.”

“What woman?” Phoenix asks through a mouthful of pizza.

Jinxie shrugs. “I slapped her with a warding charm when she came in - not one of the protective charms I’ve given you, but one to keep a demon in and stop it from using its powers. And she didn’t mind that so I guessed she can’t be that evil, and Papa has the Nine-Tails to protect him. She’s very pretty - um, she has black hair and was wearing a kimono.”

Oh. That is very unfortunately familiar, too. Phoenix presses a hand over his face and sighs. “Did I do something wrong?” Jinxie asks. “Do you know her?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Phoenix assures her, and after the initial moment has passed, he looks more concerned with whether he wants to finish his slice of pizza. “I know both of the likely options, and there are - there could be worse things. Or people.”

“Mr Wright, do you know how to say things that aren’t cryptic and ominous?” Kay asks. Apollo’s glad he’s not the only one left wondering that question, and that Kay is secure enough to say it out loud, too. Maybe sooner or later Phoenix will get the point, will get tired of hearing it and adapt. Or maybe sooner than that they’ll all be eaten by a yokai.

Jinxie springs to her feet and races up the stairs, calling for her father. She returns two minutes later with Mayor Tenma and a woman who Apollo recognizes, her straight black hair as glassy as ice and her dark, sad eyes. Jinxie was right to take a precaution against her - stuck right in the center of her forehead is a paper charm. “Well, this is a surprise,” Phoenix says lightly, but his posture shifts the moment he sees her, contracting, tightening up from the loose ease he held himself with. When he finishes speaking his mouth has a plastic quality to it, the corner frozen in a lopsided and failed smile. “What are you doing here, Iris?”

He looks so much less comfortable with her here than he did in the office last year, but there’s more people here, more than just Apollo and Trucy to wonder what it is about them, between them. Iris appears no more confident, bowing to Phoenix and never quite straightening up, her hands folded in front of herself, her shoulders turning slightly inward with them. “Since you consulted the Mystic on this matter of Tenma Taro, she was concerned about what may happen to you attempting to reimprison it yourself. Or even with assistance.”

“And I assured Miss… Iris,” Mayor Tenma says, his pronunciation of her name slow and doubtful, like he knows what she is, knows this name is not entirely true to her, “that with the power of the Nine-Tailed Fox, there is little to fear.”

“As I understand.” Iris inclines her head up and to the side, and when her hair swings down and catches the light, as Apollo remembers, it has an auburn sheen. “Understand me, Mayor, that I am not here to tread on your authority, nor to doubt the power of your village’s guardian. When I say that the Fox is weaker than it was when Tenma Taro was first imprisoned, I do not mean that it and you are weak - simply weaker. And there is a ritual to prepare in the Chamber to bind the demon again, and a vast swath of forest to search through. Are we to wait for you to be finished with the Chamber to begin? The Mystic requested of me to keep our friends safe, and that is what I intend to do.”

“I’m surprised Maya didn’t come down here herself,” Phoenix says. “I think I’m overdue for her yelling at me.” He says it tonelessly, with a roll of his eyes, though the implication is obvious, that Maya is one of the fae, and Apollo would never be so casual about having one of the fae angry with him. 

“Oh, don’t worry.” Iris smiles with lips pressed tight together. “She will not forget that she has criticisms of your handling of the past eight years. But we all agreed for this situation that both she and my sweet little sister bear a worrying lack of subtlety that could have unfortunate repercussions.”

“Right,” Phoenix agrees. “Pearls would slap a yokai straight through a house. Take care of that situation but level half the town in the process.”

“Indeed. And I was already in the area, over at Hazakurain, and it was not too far to come over. Sister Bikini’s back has been bothering her more lately and I had thought to offer some assistance to the temple.” Iris’ smile gets a little wider, a little less forced. “She still asks after your well-being, and that of a certain handsome prosecutor as well.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Phoenix’s mouth quirks into an equally small smile, and then he claps his hands together and brings them up in front of his mouth. “All right,” he says. “What’s our plan? Iris? Mr Tenma?”

“I have spent these past two weeks, with the assistance of the Nine-Tails, seeking out Tenma Taro, but he has avoided me,” the mayor explains. “It is my hope that you would be able to assist in flushing him out and driving him to a place that I would be able to finish dragging him back into the Forbidden Chamber.”

“So we are gonna be bait!” Athena says. 

“No,” Phoenix says. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Sort of. Tenma Taro’s weak after being locked up for so long - not weak enough to not be a threat, but enough that it’s going to stay the hell away from its old enemy.” A wave of his hand in the direction of Mayor Tenma. “It’s not going to be so cautious when you kids go tromping into the woods. You’d just smell and seem like - people. Traces of magic, yeah, sure, but none of you are foxes.”

“So it’ll just think we’re tasty snacks and not expect us to kick its butt?” Athena asks.

“Tasty,” Trucy repeats. “Magically delicious, you mean.”

Iris giggles. Phoenix sighs and says, “Sebastian, you’re in charge.”

Sebastian freezes, eyes wide and shoulders hunched, his hands twisting around each other. He wears different gloves now than he did earlier; these have the fingers missing, for whatever reason. “Mr Wright, are you sure?”

A witch against a yokai. Apollo doesn’t really know what witches can do, in the abstract, and he certainly doesn’t know what powers Sebastian has - or the when, why, how, of him becoming a witch - but Phoenix must. Enough to have an expectation. “I’m not asking - or suggesting - that you try and fight it singlehandedly, but I think you’d be a big help in keeping it distracted.”

Neither Sebastian’s face nor his posture suggests that he agrees with this assessment. “And, Iris?” Phoenix asks. She doesn’t look surprised, turns her eyes on Phoenix slowly and blinks, waiting. “I’m sure whatever Maya told you was about me, but I’m pretty sure I’d be a liability if I was trying to keep up with everyone else through the woods, and—” 

“Your back pain is and always has been because you sit like a gargoyle,” Iris says. “But you would like me to keep your children from being killed.”

“Well.” Phoenix runs his hand through his hair all the way down to rub the back of his neck. “I wasn’t going to phrase it exactly like that. Those two” - he gestures at Kay and Sebastian - “are Edgeworth’s, not mine.”

“What?” Kay asks. “Mr Edgeworth’s my other dad, but you’re my other other dad! Are you disowning me? Have I been disowned? Why can’t you both be my dads?” She grins. Apollo remembers the conversation he had with Klavier about a particular betting pool.

“I do believe it’s been decided on your behalf,” Iris says to Phoenix. “But, yes, I will make sure none of them come to harm. If—” She frowns, her eyes narrowing, and she rolls them up toward the center of her forehead, as though trying to see Jinxie’s charm still left there. She raises a hand to it and falters, her fingers an inch from the paper. 

“Right,” Phoenix says, and he reaches over and peels the charm off of her head. 

“You can’t take it off yourself?” Trucy asks.

“There would hardly be a point to such a charm if any monster can just remove the bindings from herself,” Iris says. “Perhaps we use that charm ourselves, slap it upon Tenma Taro when we find him.”

“Ooh! I volunteer for that!” Kay bounces up and down and snatches the charm from Phoenix’s hand when he holds it out to her. “I’ll sneak up on him and whack him with it! And then, Seb, you chase it out into the open where the Amazing Nine-Tails can wrestle it back to prison!”

“You should all take some more charms,” Jinxie says, grabbing Trucy’s hands and dealing the paper slips into her palm like a card dealer setting up a game. “Make sure as soon as you see something strange, hit it!” 

“That’s sound advice,” Athena says, nodding sagely.

“That could get you arrested,” Sebastian says.

Athena raises her eyebrows and grins at Apollo. He has to suppress a groan. Somehow, in the madness of everything after, he’d almost forgotten about Athena flinging a police officer through the air. Between that, manipulating information from Fulbright, and Sebastian and Kay being plenty friendly (no matter how Kay tried to pretend she wasn’t giving out information), she’s going to get a very strange idea of what she can get away with.

Iris eyes the pizza crusts that someone left behind in the box, but seeing Apollo watching her, she quickly turns her head away, lifting her chin to feign regal posture.

Tenma Taro is going to kill them all, no question.

#if you want the key to the bad pun names it's in the end notes on ao3 #roddy fanfics #fic: the witches of los angeles

[f4liveblogarchives]

Fantastic Four Vol 1 #138 & #139

Sun Jul 28 2019 [02:24 PM] Wack'd: So apparently the whole "60s issues colored Wyatt white so as a compromise let's give him a slight tan" was not an invention of John Bryne

[02:24 PM] Aleph Null: that's supposed to be a tan? [02:25 PM] Wack'd: That or he's covered himself in strawberry yogurt [02:25 PM] ThreeOfFour: maybe its the widows peak but is that Namor? [02:25 PM] Wack'd: Nope! It's Wyatt Wingfoot! [02:26 PM] Aleph Null: dang, you're a wing, and you have feet? [02:27 PM] Wack'd: Under Kirby's pen Wyatt's hair varied from a standard close cut to something vaguely Clark Kent-ish [02:27 PM] Bocaj: Wait. [02:27 PM] Bocaj: Namor has wing feet [02:27 PM] Bocaj: HMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM [02:27 PM] Wack'd: His hairline's receding a bit, though I have no idea if this is intentional or just how Buscema draws him [02:27 PM] Bocaj: HMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM [02:27 PM] Wack'd: *Anyway* [02:28 PM] Wack'd: So wait--I have questions

[02:28 PM] Wack'd: 1. Did Johnny drop out of school? Probably, right? I mean, he’s not graduating today [02:28 PM] Bocaj: Damn johnny is a drop out [02:30 PM] Wack'd: 2. Metro College is nearby? And has phones? Besides "Stan forgot about me" there's no good reason why he hasn't spoken to Johnny or the rest of the Four in, uh--five years [02:31 PM] Wack'd: I get the idea that if he's going to return you want to make it kind of a big deal, but I'm far more comfortable with the idea that he's still been around and just not doing anything superheroey? [02:31 PM] Wack'd: Because now it's just like "oh, I've moved on with my life but I should probably invite my old best friend who's also a drop out to my graduation ceremony" [02:32 PM] Wack'd: "By breaking into his apartment" [02:32 PM] Umbramatic: oh [02:33 PM] Wack'd: Anyway, Reed decides to give the ceremony (and subsequent chill sesh at Wyatt's place) a miss in case Sue comes back [02:33 PM] Wack'd: Look, dude, I'm sure she does she'll call first? Or leave a note? [02:33 PM] Wack'd: Whatever [02:34 PM] Bocaj: When you refuse to make the first move it involves a lot of sitting by the telephone [02:34 PM] Wack'd: In fairness she's deliberately gone off the grid with his infant child and asked that no one tell Reed‏ where she is [02:35 PM] Wack'd: Not really a lot of opportunities for first moves here [02:35 PM] Bocaj: Has he asked [02:35 PM] Wack'd: Also fair [02:35 PM] Wack'd: But I'm pretty sure when someone doesn't want you to know where they are, going out of your way to find out is stalking, and that's generally frowned upon [02:36 PM] Bocaj: Well like he could have asked someone to send her a message saying he wanted to talk [02:36 PM] Wack'd: True [02:36 PM] Wack'd: You make a lot of good points [02:36 PM] maxwellelvis: True, but the problem is this is Reed Richards we're talking about here. [02:36 PM] Bocaj: Since Reed Is Never Wrong in Reed's Mind he's stuck in limbo waiting for her to come crawling back [02:36 PM] maxwellelvis: He'd have to delegate it entirely to someone else [02:36 PM] maxwellelvis: because aside from what Bocaj just said, Reed tends to make a big production out of everything. [02:37 PM] Wack'd: John Buscema awakes with a start and realizes that nothing about the team's civvie fashion sense has changed in thirteen years

[02:38 PM] Umbramatic: shameful [02:38 PM] Bocaj: "Oh shit, fashion changes" [02:40 PM] Wack'd: 1. Humphrey Bogart was a major movie star and *definitely* has folks fussing over his hair.  2. I'm finding a *lot* of photos of Lloyd Nolan with immaculately trimmed facial hair.  3. Oh god Ben's a "what about the troops" guy

[02:41 PM] maxwellelvis: Just change the references to 'Nam-era stuff and he sounds like Walter Sobchak [02:41 PM] Umbramatic: yufoufgtpit;u;jo'piop [02:41 PM] Wack'd: I'm starting to think that last issue all of his talk about being old wasn't him being brainwashed, that's just how Gerry Conway thinks he should behave [02:42 PM] Wack'd: Which is not exactly endearing me to his run [02:42 PM] Umbramatic: rip [02:42 PM] Wack'd: Well that's ominous

[02:42 PM] Umbramatic: eeeep [02:45 PM] Wack'd: So, Wyatt's tribe has a name now. "Keewazi" (EDITOR’S NOTE: I’d apparently forgotten Lee and Kirby explicitly made him Comanche.) [02:46 PM] Wack'd: I'm sure that was talked over with a lot of Native Americans not just a bunch of randomly-picked syllables [02:47 PM] Aleph Null: marvel bad [02:47 PM] Umbramatic: marvel no [02:48 PM] Wack'd: "I haven't seen Johnny in about five years, so it's definitely socially acceptable to laugh at him"

[02:48 PM] Wack'd: That said, he looks like a friggin Brady [02:48 PM] Bocaj: Which is weird because Marvel Avengers tended to leave it vague and Claremont X Men picked specific real tribes [02:49 PM] Umbramatic: now i'm just imagining a laugh track at all mentions of johnny's hair [02:49 PM] Umbramatic: and it's the Tidus Laugh [02:52 PM] Wack'd: I will say this, to Buscema's credit (and maybe Conway's?)--there's definitely still in "old west" aesthetic here, but the outfits are not nearly as "I watched a movie once" as they were last time we saw these dudes. Also: smart move avoiding teepees. It's the 70s! People want efficient heating!

[02:52 PM] Wack'd: (We didn't actually see any dwellings last time. Mostly just Wyatt's dad sitting on a carpet in the middle of an open field) [02:53 PM] Wack'd: Uuuuuuh "kings" yeah sure

[02:54 PM] Umbramatic: big mountain boi [02:56 PM] Wack'd: And with regards to "warriors" [02:58 PM] Wack'd: Oh no, Johnny did drop out!

[02:59 PM] Umbramatic: poor johnny [02:59 PM] Wack'd: So the Keewazi are in Oklahoma so jot that down [02:59 PM] Umbramatic: oh [03:00 PM] Wack'd: Wyatt traveled a long way to go to a state school! [03:01 PM] Wack'd: That explains nothing, thank you

[03:01 PM] Aleph Null: this is just what men are like [03:02 PM] Wack'd: Also last time we saw this joker he was just Mysterio but earlier and worse [03:02 PM] Wack'd: So this should honestly be a cakewalk [03:02 PM] Umbramatic: good [03:04 PM] Wack'd: nerts

[03:05 PM] Wack'd: Fortunately it turns out that attacking Miracle Man himself breaks his concentration, so no more rock man [03:05 PM] Wack'd: Coming out to gloat--*always* a bad idea [03:08 PM] Wack'd: Oh wow so Miracle Man's new backstory sure is something [03:08 PM] Wack'd: He sought out a tribe of Native Americans who'd mastered "total mental control" and had dwindled to seven despite never having interacted with a white guy before [03:09 PM] Umbramatic: oh [03:09 PM] Wack'd: They agree to a free and equal trade of information, but once Miracle Man has learned all he cares to he murders them all [03:10 PM] Wack'd: Nice of Conway to leave future writers an escape hatch in case this one day turns out to be problematic

[03:11 PM] Wack'd: Which it did, I'm pretty sure, the second it was written [03:11 PM] Umbramatic: yes [03:12 PM] Wack'd: If nothing else this is all fairly on brand for a white guy.

[03:12 PM] maxwellelvis: Well, the next time we see Miracle Man is in Marvel Two-In-One #8, written by Steve Gerber, and he doubles down on the weirdness, as I've said before. [03:13 PM] Wack'd: That's cool so long as he doesn't also double down on the racism

[03:15 PM] Wack'd: ...sure

[03:16 PM] maxwellelvis: To paraphrase Rifftrax, "Either the laws of physics no longer apply, or [Johnny] is playing Halo 2" [03:17 PM] Umbramatic: these are superhero comics, physics are just a suggesstion [03:18 PM] Wack'd: Okay, so the philosophy at play here is kind of nonsense bonkers, but I really want to hone in on the "city he has created on these barren sands." The sands weren't barren! People lived here! They were using it! Christ, Conway!

[03:19 PM] maxwellelvis: Not by choice, mind you. Though I'm not sure if Wyatt's living on a reservation or not. [03:20 PM] Wack'd: Lee and Kirby certainly seemed to think so. Conway and Buscema have issued no statement on the matter [03:20 PM] maxwellelvis: And IIRC most reservations were deliberately placed in the most desolate areas the feds could find. [03:21 PM] Wack'd: But still, it's super shitty to talk about someone's home as though you could be using this land better. [03:21 PM] Wack'd: It tends to be a big anti-Palestinian talking point--"it's good the Jews came in because it's not like those idiots were doing anything worthwhile"--so I'm a little sensitive to it [03:22 PM] Umbramatic: ah, geez [03:22 PM] maxwellelvis: Gotcha [03:23 PM] Wack'd: Anyway, Johnny, Ben, and Medusa make their way back to the surface, and Miracle Man conjures some monsters for them to fight [03:24 PM] Wack'd: And then when things start going south he summons a cyclone to wipe them all away [03:25 PM] Wack'd: Reed Richards Is Useless™

[03:26 PM] Umbramatic: LOOK BEHIND YOU REED [03:26 PM] Wack'd: We're going to find out about that next issue, apparently [03:26 PM] Wack'd: And meanwhile, in Pennsylvania, Franklin without a high-pitched scream and then passes out [03:27 PM] Wack'd: Sue decides not to send for a doctor because "somehow I know he's alright" [03:27 PM] Wack'd: Good instincts, Sue [03:28 PM] Wack'd: Back to the main story! The cyclone harmlessly drops everyone off a few miles away from Miracle Man's city [03:28 PM] Wack'd: And yeah, the Keewazi live on a reservation [03:29 PM] Wack'd: And so Wyatt, Johnny, Ben, and Medusa build a raft and head upstream back towards the reservation, with Johnny using his fire powers as a "motor" for the boat [03:29 PM] Wack'd: I'm sure that much open flame next to a wooden raft is definitely a good idea [03:30 PM] Wack'd: I think Miracle Man might actually be the most morally reprehensible villain in *Fantastic Four* yet

[03:30 PM] Wack'd: A genocidal colonist and a potential rapist to boot [03:30 PM] Umbramatic: ew [03:31 PM] maxwellelvis: Next time we see him, he'll start trying to become God. Not hyperbole [03:32 PM] Wack'd: Apparently Miracle Man is planning on destroying the entire earth! Jesus!

[03:33 PM] Umbramatic: ah yes, the classic supervillain plan, blow up ze earth [03:33 PM] Wack'd: More mook fights. Medusa is kicking some serious ass this issue, effortlessly flinging around three at a time [03:35 PM] Wack'd: Ben, meanwhile, has gone after the Man himself--and this fight is too fucking good to deprive you of

[03:35 PM] Umbramatic: BALOOM! [03:35 PM] Wack'd: God I love me some Buscema punches [03:37 PM] Wack'd: Anyway, Miracle Man tries to get up one last time, but is spirited away by the ghosts of the Cheemuzwa tribe he wiped out, who hope they can cure him of his megalomania. Awfully magnanimous of them. [03:37 PM] Wack'd: Why didn't they do this earlier? shrug [03:38 PM] Bocaj: There was a character from Fairy Tail who was raised by a first nations esque tribe but then it turned out They Were Ghosts All Along so character was free to join the main cast [03:38 PM] Bocaj: Also I hate Fairy Tail [03:38 PM] Wack'd: Anyway, we go out on a cliffhanger, the thing Reed should've looked behind him that was a Negative Zone alarm light

#1973 #Gerry Conway #John Buscema #The Main Book

[prettywordsyouleft]

The Sex Contract - Chapter 9

Genre: friends to lovers au / friends with benefits / mature content / romance / angst

Characters: Shim Changmin x Kaia Ashton (OC)

A/N: Due to the overwhelming request I have followed your encouragement to bring back one of my older stories. This was back in a time where OCs were everything and writing one chapter in each main’s point of view was the trend. I hope that even though I have edited this drastically, that you can appreciate this story comes from my older style of writing. I definitely still read this often and find it enjoyable so I hope you will too.

Prologue | 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 - FINAL

Chapter 9 – Changmin’s POV.

Changmin let Kaia into the apartment and frowned instantly, the scolding he was going to give her for wasting so much time left his mind as soon as he saw her expression. Instead, he grabbed her and led her over to the couch, helping her sit down.

“Is everything okay?”

She nodded distantly but otherwise didn’t reply.

“You don’t seem okay, in fact you look as if you’ve seen a ghost,” he pointed out, poking her arm gently. She didn’t even flinch and Changmin became concerned. Getting up from the couch, he went over to the kitchen and turned on the jug to boil some hot water. Collecting two cups from inside the cupboard he prepared the hot chocolates, in hopes the sugar would brighten her up without the effect of caffeine. He brought the drinks back over to where Kaia sat and placed them down on the coffee table.

The sound seemed to bring her out of her thoughts. “What did you say?”

“Nothing, but I made you a hot chocolate. You should drink it,” Changmin urged and the girl nodded, reaching forward for the cup and just held it. She fell back out of awareness and he wondered what she was overanalysing. He was somewhat an impatient person, and he wanted to help Kaia with her problem instead of wait for her to figure it out.

“Changmin, is it very easy for a person who doesn’t work for an Entertainment company to date an idol?” she eventually asked and he blinked a couple times at her question before shaking his head.

“You should know by now Kai, given you work in Entertainment news that it’s quite hard. It’s why most idols have relationships with each other or the people they work with.” Changmin placed his mug down and scooted closer to the caramel haired girl. “Why, what have you discovered?”

“N-nothing, I just wondered if a relationship like the one I just pointed out could stay off the radar well.”

He contemplated her statement. “Depends on the fame of the star. For someone in a less known position, it could be quite possible. But for someone such as myself, it’s barely possible to have a female friend, let alone date a girl without the whole world knowing. I’m just thankful no one has seen you as a potential partner or this entire agreement would become the most lethal operation in destroying my career.”

“Couldn’t that happen if news comes out about it?” she asked and then stared down at the beverage in her hand. “Could I end your career?”

“Hey,” he said softly, leaning closer to the girl and lightly bumping her so he didn’t spill her drink. “Why are you thinking so seriously, hm? What got you like this? Do you know someone who is dating a famous person now?”

She shook her head. “It mustn’t have been who I thought it was, because like you said, that would be nearly impossible.”

“You’ve sparked my curiosity now. Who exactly did you think you saw?”

“Junsu,” she mentioned and Changmin froze. “I uh, mean the Junsu from two pm of course ha-ha!”

He glanced at the girl who diverted her gaze, taking a gulp of her drink and then squealing because she had burnt her tongue. Changmin couldn’t help but chuckle at the awkward move and pulled Kaia’s head around so he could examine the damage. It didn’t look that bad. He smirked. “You’re so clumsy at times.”

“I didn’t think that through very well,” she agreed and then smiled, seeming to be stepping out of her thoughts. “So uh, I’m guessing you have to get back to work soon. Sorry, I wasted the time.”

“I’m not worried, I kind of miss just hanging out,” he told her honestly and she nodded her head. “I like where we’re at though too, I feel I’ve learnt a lot about you lately.”

“Like?” she wondered and Changmin chuckled again. “Hey, don’t you start teasing me. I came here on my lunch break and haven’t even eaten yet. I even gave up sushi for you.”

“So let’s order sushi then,” he proposed, glancing at his watch and faltering when he saw the time. She was right; Changmin was expected back at work in less than half an hour. He cringed lightly. “Can I order sushi for you?”

“Don’t worry; I’ll just get something on the way back to the office. Though if I’m honest, I don’t feel all that good. Do you have any medication I could take Min?” she asked, rubbing her neck and he eyed the girl with fresh concern, nodding his head and got up.

“Just wait here, I’ll get you some.” He headed into his bedroom and to the en-suite, looking in the cabinet for some medicine. Finding the box he required, Changmin went back out to the living room but frowned when she was nowhere in sight. “Kaia?”

There was no response, and he noticed her bag was still on the counter where she left it. Going over to where he left the girl, Changmin found her sound asleep on the couch. Smiling at her, he looked around before deciding to hoist the girl up. Changmin knew how uncomfortable it was to fall asleep on that couch. She surprisingly didn’t stir awake as he carried her down to his room, gently placing her on the bed and pulling the blankets up over her.

“You must be truly exhausted,” he murmured and stood back to his full height, glancing at his friend and then put the box of medicine on the bedside table. Jotting Kaia a quick note telling her to let herself out when she woke up, Changmin quietly stepped out of the room and headed out back to work.

“And so Minho said to me about some soccer match that he and Donghae, with a few trainees, have planned in two days. I was completely annoyed, of course, they plan things when we’re not in Korea,” Yunho mentioned as they both entered the apartment later that evening, exhausted from practice.

“Why are you complaining, Minho will be coming to Japan whilst we’re there. I’m sure if you time it well you could meet up for something.”

Yunho nodded and then stopped after turning on the lights. “Did Kaia come over today?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Did she forget her bag?” he continued to enquire and Changmin frowned, noting the handbag still in the same place it had been earlier. He stepped around Yunho and headed down to his bedroom, opening the door and stopped in his tracks. Kaia was still in the bed and seemed to be asleep. His breath was caught in his chest as he went over to her side and reached to feel her head. The action was enough to stir her and she opened her eyes, blinking a few times.

“How come you’re still here?” Changmin asked softly, crouching down as Kaia sat up in the bed. She looked around herself and coughed. “Are you ill?”

“My throat hurts a little.”

“Just wait here,” he told her and went down to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. Yunho was in there and looked at Changmin with concern. “She mustn’t have woken up when I left her here. She’s been asleep for at least nine hours now.”

“Sounds like she needed to sleep. Do you need a hand?”

He shook my head and smiled at the man before heading back down to the bedroom. Passing the bottle to Kaia, she drank some of it before coughing again. Changmin offered her the medication and she took it before slumping back down on the bed.

“Changmin-ah,” she said and he glanced at her. “I don’t think I have the energy to move. What time is it?”

“Eleven.”

“Ugh, okay.” She hung her head and then tried to heave herself to the side of the bed. Changmin gently stopped her.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

She looked at him tiredly. “Home. I don’t want to make you sick.”

“Well, you’ve already slept in my bed so I’m pretty sure I’ll catch it regardless. Though I am really fit so don’t worry about me, I’m more concerned about you. Which means you’re not leaving.”

“But-”

He shook his head firmly. “I have to wake up at three anyway to fly to Japan early. So don’t worry too much. Do you need me to help you to the bathroom?”

“Yes please,” she said and resigned herself to his aid. Changmin helped her in so she could use the room and then took her back to bed, assisting her in removing her jacket and pants so she was more comfortable. He then took off his own unneeded layers and flicked off the light, climbing onto the bed and snuggling into his pillows.

Everything was silent for a moment and he glanced over his shoulder at Kaia, the girl staring up at the ceiling. He chuckled and turned to face her. “Problem?”

“We haven’t exactly shared a bed on purpose yet,” she announced and he laughed again at her worries. “Don’t laugh at me!”

“We fell asleep after playing Fifa that one time at five in the morning, how is this any different? Besides, I’ve had more than enough sex with you now to not need to make a move. Sleep well Kai, I’ll see you if you wake up when I do.”

“I guess you’re right, night Min.” She sighed and then nestled into the pillow, closing her eyes and instantly drifting off.

Changmin found himself cat napping like he usually did when he knew the alarm was set for an odd time, and every time he woke up, he looked over at Kaia sleeping to make sure she was okay. It was a different experience and he enjoyed it, wondering if he would have felt any more satisfied than he did now, had they enjoyed some intimacy together before his trip to Japan. It made him realise that whilst he liked the arrangement a great deal, there definitely needed to be some changes when he got back home.

But for now, Changmin enjoyed the idea of sharing his bed with his best friend. Though he couldn’t put his finger on the reason, he knew he would miss her a great deal whilst in Japan this time.

_________________

Part 10

All rights reserved © prettywordsyouleft

[TVXQ Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [Request Guidelines]

#shim changmin #changmin #tvxq #tvxq imagines #tvxq scenarios #tvxq fiction #tvxq romance #changmin imagines #changmin scenarios #changmin fiction #changmin romance #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop fiction #pwyl; the sex contract #prettywordsyouleft writes

[thestudyfeels]

Ever had that weird feeling when you’re sitting (or peeing) and suddenly it’s like you’re losing everything? (I mean, ok, you’re losing your pee, lol). Everything just becomes too much, and you either prepare to cry, (bonus points if you curl up in a fetal position, ‘cause on the toilet seat that's practically gymnastics) or grab a bag of popcorn, your midnight bathroom snack, not caring that you’re going bonkers (I respect that, you da hood). Except for the buttered popcorn, nothing about it is fun, yet it’s happened to every single one of us.

To cut short this intro, here’s how NOT to lose your shit. It’s time to take complete ownership of your life (someone cue the dramatic music, I don’t have a stereo. #BROKE-AF).

Someone amazing once said “your brain is your most valuable tool.” That's true. Once you learn how to control your mind, you will start to see that we, being the dumb idiots that we are, over-complicate the simplest of things. You’re not losing your shit (but finish that popcorn anyway). Your mind just convinced you that you are. My wise friend once said that it’s either you directing your mind or it’s the other way around. Show your mind who’s boss and conquer it. Here’s how:

Don’t make excuses. Not only does it piss off Miss Honey and your dog (your dog has better things to eat, my dude), but it robs you of the opportunity to learn from your mistakes. As I always say, life is not a report card. It's never perfect, and it’s the little flaws that push you to aim higher. In the end, life is just growth as a human being (or as a basic hoe, like me). Here’s an example of taking full responsibility for your actions:

 Action: You didn’t submit your essay on time.

 Normal response:  “I didn’t know about the essay.”

                               “My dog ate up my entire computer.”

                               “I was saving the world from zombies.”

Conqueror talk: “I didn’t get in my essay, for that no excuse is valid. I have learned from this and you can expect better next time.”

Miss Honey will be pleased.

I’m a firm believer that emotions hinder productivity. Now, don’t get me wrong, emotions are great. There are many things to shed tears on. Tris from Divergent died. Trump became President. You just got friend-zoned. It’s great to have emotions in cases like these. But when it comes down to getting work done, it’s better to have a firm control over them.

Imagine trying to finish that crappy essay 3 mins before your deadline when Sophia from book club comes up all like “Did you hear what Archie just said to me? He’s such a jerk.” That’s torture. Honestly, it's a miracle we get team assignments done because there is always that one friend who’s either crying over an ex or dying over how cute puppies are.

When working, choose productivity over pride. The reason being, it not only affects your quality of work by distracting you but also makes you the 90 year old grannie shouting from behind in the supermarket line. People legit fly away in the other direction when they see you.

But of course, in other cases, go ahead and release the waterworks. I’m still crying over Mufasa’s death anyway.

(I’m about to get deep, wearing that diving suit, alright). Conquering is hard. There’ll be days when you’ll feel like doing anything but that boring report Miss Honey assigned. Like, who cares whether the Nile or the Amazon is longer?

However, the mindset of a conqueror is so strong that the little demon called procrastination doesn’t stand a chance. You’ll see us partying the whole weekend because we already slayed ‘em rivers and hunted down those fishies Friday. Wanna join in? Here are some aspects of the conqueror mindset: 

Procrastination isn’t allowed. We understand that procrastination not only wastes precious time but basically means partying on a guilty mind. We would rather be that person drinking all them shots than be Abby sitting in the corner, worrying about her calc HW.

Discipline. Every conqueror knows that things need to be done at the right time (and in the right way, of course). Playing slither.io is great, but if you’re hooked for 7 hours and your poor report on rivers has turned into a dust bunny, then mate, you are not conquering. Get up and get the job done already.

Time management. It’s 11:58 pm. Your report (lol, get a grip mate) has finally been wiped of all that dust, and you’re settling to start on it. You open the first page of the assignment and have a mini heart attack. It says: Due by 12 am, xx Feb ‘18). To become a conqueror, hence, you must learn to travel back in time. JK. To become a conqueror, it’s important to value time because it's priceless. A year from now, those hours you spent eating all that snake kill in slither.io won't mean shit, but if you grind, if you choose to work hard, then every single moment will be memorable and pay off.

So, how do you do it? Ok, grab your notebook, grab your cauldron, and jot down. Let’s see what we got here... ‘Add a horn of bicorn’ and just a little bit of -what’s that- salamander blood?” *Potion explodes* Um, sorry for that mess. *Waves wand to clean*

Point is, there’s no secret spell to becoming disciplined and focused. Put down that wand, please. I’ll explain.

If you truly want to take control of your life, you must know your why. Why do you want to? Maybe you’re sick of procrastinating and letting yourself down? Maybe you're tired of being a couch potato and want to get that ass to the gym? Maybe Abby wants to drink them tequila shots too? Because unless you really want it, you won’t get it. It’s important to know your why and let it lead you into battle as your motivation.

In short, you have to be a superhero (I choose to be Superwoman!) and learn to conquer your life before you save Kim from the fire. Your life is truly valuable, and here's a secret: If you want to get results you have never gotten before, you're going to have to do things you've never done before. Everyone gets the same 24 hours in a day, the same opportunities, and the same chances to follow their dreams. They just make different choices. If you choose to re-watch F.R.I.E.N.D.S. for the 58th time while balancing chips in one hand and popcorn in the other, our world will lose one of its heroes.

But if you do decide to put on that superhero cape, I’m with you. Kim, hang on. We’re coming for you.

Want to read more? Here are some related boops:

general tips for getting your shit together

loving yourself and letting go of negativity

understanding the meaning of your life

Well, it’s a wrap! I post new articles every week so you can follow me if you are interested in killing the game & conquering life bc I’ll do my best to help you in the tough yet amazing journey called life.

If you want to go thru my blog, I would rec picking your choice of post from my masterpost list! Or, if you want to read something insightful on your cozy Sunday afternoon while chilling under blankets, I would recommend reading one of my interviews. + You can also request a blog post! For that, leave your question in my ask box!

I hope you are well, stay strong and conquer life, you conqueror.

- Nandini (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

#getting your shit togther #*gyst series #unicorn studying #ref #studyplants #studyquill #moonshinestudies #artemistudying #uglystudies #cielstudies #studyblrmasterposts #obsidianstudy #athenastudying #nerdyign #thesmartstudies #natastudies #hinodestudies #hcmeworks #peace ^_^

[quarantinewithbean]

Bean is Here!

I still can't believe you are here! It's been 3 weeks and 1 day since you have made your way into the world and time is going by so fast. I thought it seemed to be accelerating during my pregnancy and it has yet to slow down.

I'm jotting down some thoughts today in hopes that I can read them and remember all of the amazing details of you as a tiny newborn. Everyone tells me that this stage of life goes by in a blink and that you will change so fast, and honestly I've found both things to be true just over the course of the past few weeks.

It is crazy to feel like I know you so well already even though you're only 3 weeks old! But your personality was pretty clear even when you were in the womb, and I've noticed so many consistencies with who you are on the outside. You are wide-eyed and very awake between 9-11 pm, except now instead of feeling intense kicks from the inside during that time I see you kick your little legs and use those amazing vocal chords that God gave you. Music and rocking in the rocking chair still calms you right down, just like it did when you were inside me. I love that you came into the world to the song "The Cure" by Lady Gaga, who was also one of your favorites in utero. I cannot read the lyrics to that song without becoming full of tears of happiness as it has such a different meaning now when I think of you.

"If I can't find the cure, I'll fix you with my love. No matter what you know I'll, I'll fix you with my love. And if you say you're ok, I'm gonna heal you anyway. Promise I'll always be there, promise I'll be the cure."

I often sing this to you now when I am rocking you to sleep. It will forever remind me of the moment you were born. Thanks to your dad for DJ'ing during my labor and playing all of my favorite jams to get me through the "push" phase (e.g., Rihanna, Whitney, and Gaga).

You, by the way, are ABSOLUTELY PERFECT LOOKING! I mean, I know I'm biased because you are mine, but seriously....I just stare at you in disbelief! You have your daddy's eyes and lips, my nose and ears and cheeks...you have perfect skin and a nice round head. And that chin dimple!! It makes me weak in my knees! That is such an amazing feature as it is something that only a few people in my family have, but definitely goes back several generations. Your Uncle Cory has it, too, and I know he thinks it is so special that you both share that. You also have a super cute dimple on your left cheek that presents itself when you smile - which, you started socially smiling at 2 weeks! The photographer who took our family front porch photos couldn't believe that you were already doing that. You have your daddy's hands and legs (we call your legs your "string beans" 🤣). You have very wide feet that look like little paddles, and everyone says those are "Campbell Feet"! And you also have these little tufts of furry hair on the top of your ears.

You don't cry too much unless you are hungry, have a dirty diaper, or are gassy - but when you do cry you make your needs VERY known. You go "0-60" very quickly when you're hungry, just like your dad ;) But once you are nursing you are perfectly content again. Sleeping at night is going well - you have been consistently sleeping in 3-4 hour stretches at night after your fussier time from 9-11 where you like to cluster feed every 30-45 min. But I'm ok with that! I have prayed for you for so long that I feel like I'd be fine with any amount of pain or exhaustion to satisfy your needs - I guess that's when you know you're a parent!

Though I have had what I consider to be some major accomplishments in my life thus far, and yet at the age of 36 I feel like my entire purpose on this Earth - why I am here - is to have brought you into the world. You are the most amazing thing I have ever done (of course, not alone - with the help of your dad, who is an equally incredible support and father). I can't wait to watch you grow and see what awesome things you do in life.

Welcome home, Conor Max ❤️

[waywardsparrownz]

A TIME FOR DRAMATICS ~

   What is an adventure? As it turns out, there are many answers to this question - all depends on who you ask really. I myself have always preferred the standard J. R. R. Tolkien definition:

  “An adventure is some sort of exciting undertaking on which one embarks generally seeking novelty, or treasure. Sometimes they find these things, but more often wind up tangled in with dangerous and interesting forces which they were not seeking in the first place. Generally marked by plans gone awry, and a sense of getting swept off one’s feet.”

  These were not the great Tolkien’s actual words of course, but they happened to look a lot wiser when formed into a quote. It’s the spirit that counts I told myself.

  Here’s another, this one from my own lips:

  “An adventure is when the best laid plans are blown apart by something unexpected.”

  You see, a true adventure is marked by plans that DON’T work out. Those perfect days, or road-trips, we arranged where everything worked right and went according to schedule aren’t the ones we remember. The really interesting things are the ones you don’t expect, or necessarily even want.  That age-old storyteller’s trick of the protagonist setting forth in search of a certain lesson and learning something they weren’t looking for along the way. Life-changing experiences tend to be unpleasant affairs, but at least they’re never boring.

  “Well, whadaya think?”

  “It’s interesting…”  Finchly clacked his beak thoughtfully, gazing across the dying fire into the golden shadows and deep blues accentuating the distant Tetons and their foothills. The sun had dipped below the horizon some time ago, but the first star had yet to emerge. I’d have to put another log on soon… “Possibly a little pretentious though - Melvin really overdoes it with the hops. Roadhouse brewing is WAY better!”

  “Wait what?” I was confused.

  “Maybe I’m just not an IPA bird…” Finchly mused, taking another long drink.

  “Not the beer you pinhead, the blog!” Finchly was good company, but not a good listener. I’d been reminded once again.

  “Oh that! Right. Is that what you were on about? Hmmmm… Well it’s interesting, but I don’t really see how it ties into snowboarding.”

  “It doesn’t yet, but it will!” Even I had to admit, the connection was pretty tenuous - but I had grand plans for something akin to an adventure saga. My own little miniseries pulling connections of fate and the attempts of individuals to combat such forces. The perfect series of campfire stories distilled from unwritten misadventures in New Zealand.

  Knowing the strange series of opportunities missed, opportunities taken, odd adventures, and even odder connections; the whole story was just too tempting to be passed up. This wasn’t entirely true of course. I had passed up the chance to jot it all down once already and that choice had bothered me ever since. I’d had my reasons at the time, but that point might as well have been a lifetime ago. Then there was the strange element of life looping back back on itself. It seemed only fitting, considering a dangerous strain of the flu had put an end to my and Finchly’s first blog, that a worldwide pandemic should serve to rekindle it.

  “I don’t really see how it fits into snowboarding either,” Said Greg, carefully stacking  another log on the fire. “Maybe it’s time for a good story.”

  “The events are all there,” I replied thoughtfully, “Some of it got written down in my journal while it was happening, but I haven’t really connected everything into one piece yet. I’m not sure it’s ready.” I dropped my eyes from the nearby mountains, losing myself in the flickering orange embers by our feet.

  “There’s no time like the present!” Chimed in Mike, picking up his guitar and plucking some strings. He’d been present for a good portion of the events I was working onto paper anyway, and knew most of the story already from having been an active participant. “Though we should probably order some food, cause this could take awhile.”

  “And beer!” Proclaimed Finchly, with a mournful look at the empty IPA he’d been complaining about.

  “Don’t worry, we’ve got Molson's and PBR in the fridge.” Said Greg. Apparently he’d already checked. One of the benefits to having a fire-pit with an awesome view right off your back porch.

  “I can order some Dominos.” Added Jordan pulling out her phone.

  “Alright then.” I sighed. “Now mind you it’s not really all straight in my head yet.”

  “Don’t worry about that!” Snapped Finchly. “I was there! If you get lost I can fill in the details.”

  “If you can even remember them!” Chuckled Mike, brushing shaggy hair out of his eyes. “I seem to recall you were pretty busy doing your own thing chasing some long lost love all over New Zealand at the time.” Finchly glared at him pointedly, but kept quiet. After all Mike wasn’t wrong.

  Before they could get into it further I cleared my throat and got started. 

“Jordan, is Domino’s on the way?”

  “Sure thing!”

  “Ok then,” I paused for extra drama. “So it all started when I realized there were no buses to Te Anau…”

  “Whoah! Whoah! Whoah! That’s not right at all!” Finchly was very animated. “It all started when you met me in Keri Keri!”

  “Firstly: no it did not! That’s where your adventure starts, and everyone already knows that story. Secondly: this is a story about snowboarding, viruses, and fate; that we don’t need to drag it down with already established details.” Everyone at the fire already knew Finchly’s story, he’d made sure of that many times over.

  “Well at least explain why you were going to Te Anau for the listeners benefit.” Said Mike, stroking his beard. “I don’t think everyone here knows that part and it’s pretty interesting.”

  “Ok, ok.” I surrendered, moving closer to the flame’s warmth, pulling my coat tighter - resigned to a longer yarn than previously planned. The tale’s true origins dated all the way back to a newspaper article I’d come across in some Aukland cafe my first day in New Zealand; but that strange coincidence, I decided, would serve better as an interesting anecdote to be dropped in later. “So it all started with a chance encounter at 11 PM on the 6th floor of Wellington YHA while we waited for the 2 AM ferry…”

[cosmosogler]

hello friends. i didn’t sleep well last night at all. i’ve felt sick and dizzy and on edge all day.

got an email from my graduate advisor. it says “please come see me asap.” i’m guessing he wants to talk about my classical mechanics grade. but at least i have the less unacceptable quantum grade to show for it... have i proved i can do it if i keep working hard?

probably not.

i dreamed about adventure time. in the dream i recognized it was because the show is ending and i don’t want it to end. 

i think the business man showed up again. i think he played a more prominent role in this one. maybe that’s why i can’t remember it very well at all. i can never remember any interactions i have with that guy and it’s kind of intimidating. 

but, of course, the intimidation is all in my head. the meaning is all in my head. because he is all in my head, because my dreams are all in my head.

he feels like some kind of separate thing though. i don’t like how he’s been lurking and i don’t like that every time i talk to him i can’t remember anything about it except that i MAYBE interacted with him and the strong feeling that i don’t like him or the way he thinks very much.

kinda wish he’d do something already instead of showing up in the background constantly. but maybe he has done something and i just don’t remember it.

and no, he’s not “this man.” that guy is spooky but i’ve never dreamed about him. this guy has a blurry face and angular features and i haven’t been able to remember any good looks i’ve gotten at him.

anyway i showered and drove over to linda and david’s house. they made waffles again. we talked for a long time. i admitted that my grades weren’t very good and told them about my struggles to make my disability accommodations work and the amount of misinformation that gets spread around the physics department. they talked about their careers as teachers. we talked a little bit about politics but i wanted to talk more about my worries about what kind of information i’m getting and what kind of story that tells. the “political divide” has become such that it feels like i’m living on a different planet than people who don’t share my ideology and i wonder if facebook algorithms and google and all that have put me into my own echo box without my noticing. 

the conversation came about because we were talking about our very special racist guest back in october, and the financial repercussions of hosting a “free speech” event that my school had no interest in hosting.

they also showed me a really funny chain email video they’d received about a “millennial” interviewing for a job. i felt, like, my teeth grind in anger as i watched it? i think i was offended? have i ever even felt offended before??

they said it was really well acted and it was satire and all that and then while we were chatting on the couch i noticed linda and david falling back on those caricatures to describe the young people in their lives. but i felt comfortable challenging them on that a little bit? i mean yeah i agree people can be surprisingly unreasonable, but i also think, they can be surprisingly reasonable? and all these weird new trends come from a place of wanting things to change for everyone rather than selfish laziness.

or at least, a lot of them do. that’s my understanding anyway.

then it was literally like 3 pm and i got a call from gramma about going to the arcade with my cousin for dinner. so i had to drive home real quick. my card didn’t work at the gas station and i called mom about it and she got all huffy about not being able to transfer money to my card. i said “no, i called to ask if i could get cash back later.” 

she said “oh.”

i got to talk to an actual gas station attendant for the first time in my life! that was exciting. and by exciting i mean not boring.

i’m starting to realize that my criteria for “not boring” are WAY lower than most other people’s. like i can keep myself entertained in an empty concrete room on the floor for hours just by trying to remember songs or videos. 

maybe it’s because i spent so much time grounded with nothing to do as a kid? getting kicked out of the house and hanging out outside for several hours a day every summer in the 120+ degree heat? not being able to handle physical activity?

laying in a hospital bed for days with only one movie to watch, and then laying around in the recliner for weeks after that while i waited for my arm to start working again?

maybe my life was very different to other kids’. 

anyway, gramma and grampa picked me up and we went to dave and busters. i played some arcade games with my brother and cousin. he made a rape joke and when i expressed disapproval he didn’t make a similar comment again. maybe he just didn’t see another opportunity. maybe he understood i didn’t like it and stopped saying it for the next hour. i dunno.

the food made me REALLY sick for several hours. my brother said his food wasn’t very good either. i felt like garbage the whole ride home. my brother expressed that he likes having me home, when i told him my flight is tomorrow. he took the opportunity to complain about our sister using the tv so i said “well she lives here too. if she didn’t watch the tv then it wouldn’t get watched.” 

he said he wanted it in his room but mom wouldn’t let him, which was not what i was saying, but he moved off of being angry about our sister, so it’sssss a win.

when i got home i played some logic puzzles and drew out more comic stuff. the ideas looked better in my head. i didn’t like how the first one came out, but i think i talked about that quite a bit on the picture i did post. i’ll have to beef up the dialogue and work on my storyboarding there. and maybe write smaller.

i am trying to hit a balance between “this guy is genuinely hurting and feels bad literally all the time” and “that doesn’t make him not an asshole.” i’d like to take a sort of story direction with that. by the time the games take place we see that his entourage does (for the most part) genuinely like him. so i figure over time he would have to re-teach himself to consider other people’s feelings, and he would manage it well enough to keep these guys on board for his “blow up the universe” plan.

while i was trying to get a design down for queen jaydes in that comic there i looked up all the backstory stuff i never found when i played through the game myself. it’s actually... almost exactly what i was planning anyway?? so i’m kind of relieved i only have to make some minor changes to my timeline.

the game plays up the flashbacks as a real “romeo and juliet” quick-flame romance that escalates really quickly but i wanted to portray something a little more laid-back and, like... healthy? like sure they bring each other goofy little gifts all the time and blumiere really throws his life into this relationship (he needs a Project at all times and learning to be kind is not a bad thing to devote himself to) but they also communicate about issues and bring up boundaries? i dunno. i wanted it to be something that you’d really believe affected both of them so much that this is the driving motivator behind the villain of the game.

ehh i could talk about it for a long time. i think about it in the shower and in the car when i don’t have anything else to do and i have to keep myself entertained.

see? i was going somewhere with that long aside earlier!!!

i had a long... well, i talked at oz at length about why i don’t mention to my classmates that i draw, brought on by something i said to linda and david earlier. i think it’s mostly because i feel guilty when i talk about my art. like i only have so much skill in my life and if i devote it to my art and pokemon and music and cinematography and other hobbies then it gets sucked out of physics. and physics is important to me, but it’s hard to express myself through physics. it’s easier to stuff myself into little blue demon men to express my emotions. and i have a lot of emotions.

i know that my physics skills suffer when i go a long time without practicing. that’s... true. i have so much anxiety about it that when i take a break i end up taking a LONG break. too long. it’s so stressful... i’d be so much better at it if i wasn’t so nervous all the time. i know this. 

maybe the next step there is to be comfortable with my hobbies and how they have a useful place in my life alongside physics, without replacing it.

mom always went on in high school about how i was drawing “INSTEAD” of doing schoolwork. maybe that’s where i got the idea from. i dunno.

something good that happened today.......... ehhhh. i need to do some stuff before bed and it’s 11:45. i visited with everyone that i had the opportunity to, this break. i got my ipod set up and more or less squared away. i have to figure out how to remotely deposit a check still, and i need to pack, but that won’t take too long, and it’s not hard.

so i guess i’ll grab my ipod and get to work there. i’ll have to jot down some notes for the comic to make sure i don’t forget what i wanna do. the flight isn’t going to be a good time to work on it considering how self conscious i am... i can catch up on the adventure zone instead. 

[millennialdeconstructed]

the moment I realized everything was happening...and would keep happening

11.2.18

Well well well. It’s been quite a few weeks since my last full post, and even more since I said I would post. I can definitely understand how kids in college go abroad getting everyone they know to subscribe to their wordpress blog and falling off of posting after just a few weeks. And it’s most definitely because they’re actually living their experiences instead of jotting it all down, but as the days have gone by, I felt myself in desperate need of laying everything down so I could process it all in one continuum, and consequently move forward in my life. So much has happened in the last few weeks that my head is spinning, and I can only be grateful that life is moving as quickly and fully as it is these days.

I’m nearing eight weeks in New York City this coming weekend, and I’m baffled as to how much internal turmoil I’ve experienced. I wish I could include a laughing emoji here, but I won’t, and it probably wouldn’t show up on tumblr anyway. I say turmoil not to be melodramatic nor to suggest any negativity, but to sincerely express the truth. I have been pulled in so many different directions emotionally since moving here, and there are a multitude of reasons: I came to a new city, I started a new job, I didn’t really know anybody, I kept getting lost on trains, I have to pay rent, and then I have to pay bills, but before that I have to get paid, and I have to learn new things at work, and be challenged by new situations, new people, and I have to put myself out there in order to build my social life, annnd make time to meal prep, go to the gym, and spare enough time to sit at the laundromat somewhere in the week, too. AND maybe get a decent night of sleep every night, because that’s crucial to surviving a workday.

I know, I know. That’s life! People live it every day! But when everything about that is new and happens literally all at once, especially coming out of a year where I was still in college, then spent the summer with my parents in the suburbs, it felt like a lot. In addition, I’m very new to a city, and being me, I want to envelope a city and squeeze everything out of it that I can, so I’ve spent much of my free time acting like I’m on a time-stamped vacation and trying to explore as many nooks and crannies of NYC that I can. In essence, I’m exhausted.

But wait! I also spontaneously got a side gig as a barista at a bougie little cafe in greenwich village, owned by antoni porowski of queer eye on netflix. I applied because I clicked on his instagram story, which led me to the website, and I thought, hey, I have barista experience, i’m new here and am existentially bored during the evenings after my 9-5 job, and the extra cash + social interaction would be a great time. This happened during the week I shall dub as “the one where everything happened to me,” a la Friends episode title style. Here’s how everything happened to me in literally the span of one day:

It was a Tuesday. I want to say, October 9th. My full-time job was finally picking up and I was getting pretty busy. I had an interview at the cafe immediately right after - it’s just two blocks away from my main job, which was why I thought it was ideal as a side gig to do a couple of nights a week. I went, and had the most amazing conversation with the owners and was so intrigued and excited about the cool people I would meet while working there. I was, at the time, also talking to a very interesting guy on the dating app Hinge, with whom I was vibing hard (see next post for more details). He asked me to, quote: “get ice cream sometime? or coffee? or both?” to which I obviously agreed, because those are my two favorite things in the world. And then, I met up with an aunt whom I have never met, and she ended up being so hip and ~cool~ and shared all of her wild stories of having once lived in NYC in the early 2000s. We then went to the top of the Empire State Building at midnight, and 80 some floors in the tallest point in New York City, I truly couldn’t believe how much had happened since I’d moved here, let alone in that day alone. In just five weeks, I had gotten a SECOND job, had a potential date, and capping it off with an insane view of the city at night just felt so surreal and like life was really starting to come together. 

But that was October 9th, right? And today is November 2nd? Right. So immediately after that week, I started the second job, and while it’s just as fun as I expected it to be, immediately got insanely sick due to sleep deprivation from working 9 AM-11 PM, got ghosted by that guy who I had actually been willing to meet up with, and my main job picked up so much that I was mentally and physically exhausted, and suddenly, my dream life wasn’t so dreamy anymore. Because how else can life be other than to shit on you just when you think you had it good? 

Needless to say, it took a few weeks to fully recover and reorient myself again, with a side gig to add to my routine and the need to adjust other factors. The only consistent thing I’ve experienced since moving here is the adaptation. It’s the expectation to constantly be bombarded by the unexpected. I came here and immediately forced myself into a routine, so I could make my life and actually be living it, rather than adjusting. I’ve come to realize, and I’m sure I will continue to do so, that the adaptation is a necessary and demanding part of building a life and routine, and that I should embrace it rather than override it. 

Cheers,

P

[inmed]

Obsgyn Hell in Pati

Would you fly in an airplane if you were told the pilots have been forced to work 32 hour non-stop shifts? No. You wouldn’t. Even a child can tell you that we need 8 hours of sleep in every 24 hour period. Common sense: skipping sleep immediately becomes evident as the senses dull, memory gets hazy, mood gets irritable, and decision-making ability goes down the hole. Do these symptoms sound familiar? Yeah, the same thing happens to people drunk on alcohol. A sleep-deprived pilot is no better than a drunk pilot. And nobody will be at ease in an airplane knowing the guy in the cockpit is drunk or sleep-deprived.

If we wouldn’t trust a sleep-deprived pilot, why do we trust sleep-deprived doctors? We can’t blame the passengers and we can’t blame the patients. They probably have no clue and they blindly place their trust in the hands of the professionals.

Sadly, the people who made the decisions to have doctors work 32-hour shifts are doctors themselves: the experts of human physiology! These are the very same professionals who prescribe rest more than any other medicine! Isn’t that ironic and amazingly stupid?

Well, whoever that decided that koas have to pull 32-hour shifts must have the IQ of a ping-pong ball who has failed at understanding the most basic physiological aspect of humans other than the need to breathe: the need to sleep. Not only should this person be stripped of their medical license, they should also be jailed for putting patient’s lives at risk. If I was the chief of an airline company and I demanded that my pilots shall work 32-hour shifts without sleep, and people found out: I would deserve to be jailed. Why should this practice be accepted in the hospital?

Okay, now that I’ve made my four paragraph preamble to set the mood for what’s to come, let me start my diary-like blog entry:

Obsgyn is my first big station. I had Forensic before this. Forensic was basically a load of paperwork and waiting 24/7 for the inevitable: a dead body in the hospital requiring an autopsy ASAP so the family can bury it in the morning. So even though there were just around 10 autopsies during the four week period, the constant stress was irritating: sleeping with the ringtone volume on max. There’s not much else to say about Forensics: it was stinky, we didn’t do much other than get strained wrists from writing endless reports. 

Ok, back to Obsgyn. It is 10 weeks long. That’s two and a half times as long as a small department (such as ENT, Neurology, Forensics, etc.) The first couple of weeks we were in Sardjito. The following three weeks were spent in RSUD Sleman, my favorite hospital so far. Those three weeks were alright despite the 32-hour shifts thanks to the many opportunities to sleep in the comfortable koas room or just quietly escape the hospital. Still, 32 hours are 32 hours and it is absolutely exhausting.  I would say “daily” but a day only has 24 hours. Our 32 hour shifts were “daily” in the sense that when one ended (at around 2pm), we’d go home and then be back the very next morning at 6am for the next 32-hour shift. There is no such thing as “weekends” or “holidays”. Let me give you a run-down of what one shift looks like:

5 am: wake up. shower. call a GoCar by 5:30. 6 am: arrive at RSUD Sleman. Go up to the 3rd floor where the Obsgyn stuff is. Start going through all the patient’s medical records in both the ward and the “VK” (birthing room) and noting down the “SOAP” along with some other important info in my notebook. 7 am: the doctor arrives for a “visit”. Basically a walk through the ward and VK to see all his patients for up to a couple minutes each. We scuttle behind him and try to mumble out the patient’s information that we jotted down earlier. The doctor ignores most of this and asks us simple questions about the patient: “when was the last time hemoglobin was checked? how much is it?” - and usually we wouldn’t know the answer. 8 am: the doctor sits at the nurse station to write stuff in the medical records and the koas stand there waiting for questions. These questions tend to be more about theory and are quite difficult. 9 am: the doctor goes to the poly-clinic. Two of the koas who started their shift the day before follow him. I remain in the ward with one other koas. 10 am: we chat with the nurses and midwives about random things. 11 am: we walk down to the cafeteria and eat something. I buy some bottles of water. 12 noon: we try to nap in the koas room. there are two beds and it’s airconditioned.  1 pm: unable to sleep, I walk into the VK. I notice two women in labor. I sit down at the mini nurse station there and start chatting with the midwives. 1:30 pm: the midwives order me to do “DJJ” (fetal heart rate monitor) on all the patients. Now there’s four suddenly. 2 pm: Finished with the DJJ, I sit back down only for the resident doctor to walk in and ask me to set up the USG and wheel the patient in. 3 pm: My koas partner wakes up and walks into the VK. We sit together with the midwives, talking. 4 pm: One patient seems to be going into the active phase. The midwife orders me to do more DJJ. We start wondering who will assist with the delivery. 5 pm: Another patient is brought in. Suddenly the VK is full. 6 pm: Hungry. The cafeteria is way past closed. What to eat? I start flipping through the GoFood options when suddenly I hear loud noises from behind one of the separator curtains in the VK. I peer in and see that the midwife is already in position to help the patient deliver the baby. She looks at me and asks if I’m going to join or not. Of course I say yes and put gloves and apron on. I feel useless because the midwife is capable of doing everything herself and I’m just standing there watching. 7 pm: The baby is out and I take my gloves off. The gloves never really touched the baby. Instead, I was left to pull the placenta out. Boring. It’s all boring. And I’m quite hungry by now. Back to GoFood options. We walk to the ward’s large nurse station and sit down there, chatting with the midwives. It gets boring quickly. 8 pm: Food is on the way still. And we walk back to the VK. The midwife there tells us that a woman had already delivered while we were absent. We act surprised at how quick it was. A new patient is wheeled in. “God damn it, why do women have to give birth so much?” is written all over my face. I get told to do DJJ and take blood pressure. The GoFood has arrived at the lobby. I run down to get it. 9 pm: We finish eating in the koas room. I waste time on my laptop and my partner sleeps again. I wish I was good at falling asleep, but I’m not. 11 pm: I put my laptop away. I walk to the VK. 12 midnight: another woman starts giving birth. 1 am: the same lady is still giving birth. We all keep glancing at the clock because we know that the baby is stuck. The resident is woken up. I’m drowsy and want to sleep but of course, I can’t. I’m watching the midwives and the resident doctor try to encourage the woman. They start discussing the medications given to the woman. 2 am: the resident finally gives up and decides he will operate for SC (cesarean section). I’m ordered to follow the resident. 3 am: the operation finally begins. I get to help out a bit by holding the suction and passing some instruments to the doctor. I don’t feel sleepy but the core of my bones feel sore. 4 am: the operation ends. the resident is annoyed it took so long. there was bleeding. Small chat with the resident ensues and we walk back to the VK. 5 am: I lay down on the bed in the koas room. Exhausted. 6 am: My alarm rings and I walk over to the ward to go through the medical records again. 7 am: the doctor arrives for a “visit”. I’m wearing the same clothes as I did the last time (yesterday) when he came. He’s wearing fresh new clothes, hair still wet from his shower. 8 am: the doctor asks questions. 9 am: the two of us follow the doctor to the poly-clinic where we do anamnesis and watch how the doctor handles each patient. What was a sort of dull headache becomes a full fledged one: I’m trying to figure out if it’s due to low blood sugar levels or dehydration or because I only got like an hour of sleep. 12 Noon: the patients finally finish. The nurse makes small talk for a bit. We then walk upstairs towards the koas room. The midwives there make more small talk. 1 pm: My GoCar arrives. I feel lucky that the poly-clinic ended earlier than I hoped. 10 minutes later I arrive at home. I finally shower, shave, brush, and then eat (my maid’s cooking). 2 pm: My head touches the pillow and I fall asleep. 9 pm: I wake up. Most restaurants are closed. I can’t go out at this point. I guess I have to call GoFood again to order something from somewhere that’s open late. 10 pm: I eat and then wonder what to do. I can’t sleep again because I just woke up.  I try to work on the PowerPoint to present for my Refkas (case reflection) tomorrow. 2 am: I fall asleep anyways. 5 am: Wake up. And the whole process repeats again.

So, this happened for a total of three weeks in RSUD Sleman. Then, about two weeks ago, I was sent here to RSUD Pati for a total of four weeks. The shift is the same length but the content of the shift is different. Here in Pati, we can’t just relax that much. We’re expected to do a lot more deliveries (by mostly ourselves), suturing episiotomies and ruptures, filling in medical records, doing loads of little tasks such as taking blood, installing IVs, installing IV pumps, and of course studying. After Pati, RSUD Sleman looks like a holiday. 

It is midnight now. Tomorrow morning I have to be at the hospital for another day in hell. So I’m going to leave it there.

Hopefully I get time again to discuss Pati. It’s an interesting place with interesting hospital and I have a lot to say about it.