#i don’t see him going above and beyond to get the highest grades in that specific area in the way remus had to and did | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

engie-ivy · 3 years

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Wolfstar fic based on this amazing fanart and this amazing fanart by the wonderful @questions-forthe-marauders, whose work I love!

Remus got asked on a date, but Sirius doesn't seem to share the excitement.

Happy To Have You

“And just, out of the blue, they asked me out!” Remus says breathlessly. He still can’t quite believe it. Someone asked him, Remus Lupin, out!

It’s usually guys like Sirius who get asked out; handsome, charming, and popular guys everyone wants to be or be with. Not ill-looking, awkward guys like Remus, who people only remember as James Potter and Sirius Black’s friend.

And Remus has always been perfectly happy with that! He’s beyond grateful that he gets to be friends with someone like Sirius, and he has always been perfectly content standing in Sirius Black’s shadow. The only one who hasn’t been content with that is Sirius himself, as he always insists on dragging Remus into the spotlight, like he actually thinks Remus is something worth seeing.

“So, when’s the date?” James asks excitedly.

“Next week,” Remus replies. “We’re going into Hogsmeade for a couple of butterbeers.”

“I’m happy for you, buddy,” James says, with a broad grin on his face.

“So happy,” Remus thinks he can hear Sirius mutter underneath his breath.

He can’t help but notice that Sirius seems miffed about something, and has been kind of grumpy for the entire conversation. He probably doesn’t understand why they’re making such a big deal out of this. After all, Sirius gets asked out at least six times a week, but for Remus, someone wanting to date him is close to a miracle.

As if he’s reading his mind, James slings an arm around Remus’ shoulder. “Anyone would be lucky to date you, Remus. Don’t you agree, Sirius?”

When Remus turns to look at Sirius, for a brief moment he sees a flash of an unfamiliar emotion in his eyes, but the next moment it’s gone.

“Yeah, totally,” Sirius says. His smile seems a bit forced, but the words sound genuine, so Remus decides not to dwell on it. He refuses to believe that Sirius can’t stand someone else getting attention instead of him. That’s just not how Sirius is like.

Remus actually has a lot in common with his date. Sam’s calm and quiet, and does not like to draw too much attention. They’re in Gryffindor as well, one year above Remus, and love to spend their evenings sitting in the common room reading a book. They’re easy to talk to, and have a cute laugh.

Remus and Sam have actually read a lot of the same books, and they’ve been enthusiastically discussing their favourite parts. It has actually been really nice to have someone to talk to about these things, and Remus says as much.

Sam smiles. “I can imagine it must be a welcome change to talk to someone with an attention span longer than two minutes.”

Remus frowns. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Y’know,” Sam shrugs. “If you hang around Sirius Black all the time, it must be nice to talk to someone who’s capable of actually having a mature conversation.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Remus asks, his voice turning cold.

“I know he’s your friend,” Sam says quickly. “And I can imagine he can be fun to be around, but still, it must be refreshing to talk someone with a little more... substance.”

“You do know Sirius is one of the smartest persons in school, right?” Remus asks, feeling annoyed by Sam’s unfounded assumptions. “He consistently has the highest grades in our year.”

“Really?” Sam raises a sceptical eyebrow. Then he laughs, and suddenly it doesn’t sound cute to Remus at all. “You really wouldn’t say that from seeing him!”

“Well,” Remus says sweetly, but there’s a dangerous undercurrent to his voice, and the look in his eyes is stone cold. “Maybe you shouldn’t say anything at all about things you clearly know nothing about.”

“Aaaw, don’t be like that,” Sam says. “All I’m saying is, I think we’re a lot alike, you and I. Level-headed, calm people, who enjoy good books and intellectual conversation. And if I were you, I would sometimes get tired of being around someone who’s so loud all the time, and constantly has to be the centre of attention.”

“Sirius doesn’t have to be the centre of attention,” Remus argues angrily. “He’s just the kind of person who automatically draws people in. He can’t help it.”

Sam looks at Remus thoughtfully. “Maybe I misjudged.” And Remus knows he’s not talking about his opinion of Sirius.

“If you thought I wouldn’t stand up for my friends,” he says icily. “Then I can tell you right now, that yes, you very much misjudged.”

“I’m not trying to be mean,” Sam chuckles. “I know you like Sirius, and that’s fine, I can imagine it’s entertaining to have him as a friend, but I would also understand if sometimes you need a break from his immature behaviour.”

“So is that why you asked me out?” Remus asks sharply. “Because you’re jealous of Sirius, and you thought I’d be sitting here telling you how much more engaging you are than Sirius, how much more interesting than Sirius, how much smarter than Sirius? Well, you can forget it! You can’t hold a candle to Sirius!”

“I asked you out because you seemed like a cool guy,” Sam argues. “I didn’t think you were just another one of those dense Sirius Black-admirers.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Remus says calmly. “I think there’s much to admire.”

“He’s got a pretty face, sure,” Sam says, rolling their eyes. “But I personally don’t see the appeal, with his stupid jokes and childish pranks, and don’t get me started on those lame puns about his name...”

Remus taps his finger against his chin. “I don’t know, sounds like a case of Sirius jealousy to me.”

“Oh, Godric, please don’t.”

“Don’t worry, I understand,” Remus smirks. “He’s sirius-ly amazing after all.”

Sam groans. “I think it’s best if we end the date here.”

Remus walks back to the Gryffindor Tower feeling smug about having put Sam in their place, but as these things usually go for Remus, doubt starts creeping in.

What if he made a mistake?

Someone was finally willing to date him, which might never happen again, and what does he do? He picks a fight because they aren’t a fan of Sirius! Sirius really is sirius-ly amazing, so of course people are going to be jealous of him, with how close he and Remus are. Remus will never find someone if he keeps calling people out for that, even if someone might ever again be willing to date him.

Remus feels less and less confident as he climbs the stairs. Sirius is going to go on tons of dates, and Remus will stay alone forever, because of course no one’s ever going to accept that for him, Sirius will always come first.

Wait, what was that?

That’s... not normal, is it? Oh Merlin, he’s gotten too caught up in Sirius, hasn’t he? Maybe he should’ve just changed the subject and let it go, maybe it was ridiculous of him to make such a fuss about it, maybe Sirius will think it ridiculous of him when he hears why Remus ruined his possibly only chance of dating someone.

The closer he gets to his dorm, the less convinced Remus is that he’s made the right call.

As he pushes the door open, Sirius looks up from where he’s is sitting on his bed, his knees tucked against his chest. “So... how’d the date go?” He asks immediately.

“Meh,” is all Remus manages to say.

Sirius doesn’t waste second. “Well, it is their loss. Anyone would be happy to have you. You are funny, sarcastic, smart, and you have such an unique sense of humour,” he says in one breath.

A warm glow spreads across Remus’ chest, and he stops to stare at Sirius for a moment. Sirius looks back at him with fierce determination, like he’s challenging Remus to dare to disagree.

A soft smile appears on Remus’ face, as he walks over to the bed and sits down next to Sirius. “You know...” he says. “Someone will be so lucky to be with you too one day. You are sirius-ly amazing!”

Sirius beams at him and Remus feels some strange kind of fluttering in his stomach. As they just look at each other, Remus can feel all his worries disappear.

No, he definitely made the right call.

Check out the art that this fic was based on here and here!

#my tumblr writing #based on fanart by questions-forthe-marauders #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius

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ey8508 · 3 years

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Rumors and Secrets: Victor | 李泽言

Note:

R&S for this card (CG above)

Chapter SPOILERS up to Season 2: Chapter 18-21 (read at your own risk)

Contains 5 chapters

Translation isn’t 100% accurate (or include grammar errors)

Every part for LZ’s dialogue would be in “this setting”

Do not repost to any other site (reblog is fine)

Chapter 1 Page 1 It's no exaggeration to say that the name "Li Zeyan" has run through my entire high school era. This "evil fate" probably starts with a 31-point Chinese test paper. I'm Gao Qishan, only 17 years old at that time, but there are so many things that usually interest me. Games, animations, and football are nothing compared than reading a book in a room. But hey, it's a pity that my dad doesn't think so. "I only scored 31 points in the Chinese test, and I'm still here with a hippie smile!" In the study, the old man blew his beard, looking disappointed, "How can my son be so useless!" Page 2 "Your son is very capable. I was the MVP of the basketball game last night!" "Your PPP is useless! You are in the second year of high school, not the second grade of elementary school! You have a 31-point score and you have a face to play basketball? You don't have any shame or a competitive spirit. Do you not want to go to college anymore?!" . I was about to reply impatiently, the old man took out a magazine from somewhere, poked his hand at the cover and yelled at me: "Look at the person. He founded the company at the age of 20. In just two years, he has been on the "Business Rising Stars" cover interview! Look at yourself again, someone who is almost 17 years old and does not have the realization of it, do you want to be in the worst generation in the future, ah?!" Page 3 I'm not happy to hear this: "What's so great about starting a company? Your son, I will start a company in minutes!” "I'm almost out of school, and I started my own company? Oh, I'm going to be better!" The old man raised his head, and the thick magazine almost hit my handsome face. "Learn from others, and don't give me daydreaming here!" Page 4 I grabbed this "Business Rising Stars" with enthusiasm. A decent young man in a suit was looking ahead through the photo. On the cover was a striking headline: "Li Zeyan, an astounding leader in Lianyu City.” "This title is exaggerated!" Even if I was taught by Lao Gao, I was inexplicably better compared with this Li Zeyan, and I just threw the magazine under the sofa. Who wants to learn from him? Just looking at it is a tarnish to my ability! Page 5 But somehow, at night I tossed and turned and I couldn't fall asleep! The more I closed my eyes, the more uncomfortable I was, what did Li Zeyan do. When I turned over for the 100th time, I suddenly sat up. It was a task by old Gao to read the magazine anyway, so I decided to retrieve the magazine and just take a look. After sneaking into the study room, it took me a long time to find the magazine in the innermost part of the sofa. Page 6 "... Although Li Zeyan is only 22 years old, he is already the president of Huarui, an emerging medium-sized company in Lianyu City. Starting from scratch, he started from a small office to now has hundreds of people. Every step he walks is particularly solid and decisive. Li Zeyan’s way of business is beyond ordinary. He is like a lion, born with a King's aura." All these compliments just for this, isn't it just descriptions of someone starting their own company? I just haven't paid much attention to reading. Just relying on my ingenuity, and getting a high score on the tests, it is absolutely nothing when it comes to starting a company. Hmph, just you wait. Chapter 2 Page 1 The university in City A is not only one of the top five in the province, but also the top five in the country. It is a university that I, Gao Qishan was admitted to dignifiedly! How about that, I said I'm absolutely fine. In a blink of an eye, the freshman year has passed. In the past two years, I have also paid a little attention to Huarui. The development has been okay, it has not closed down, and the scale has doubled. It's just normal development. Is it worth the old Gao's praise from time to time? Every time he flipped through a financial magazine and sighed, "You are so young, so good", it sounds a bit too much. Page 2 As the saying goes, "Seeing is believing", I think this sentence is right. Taking advantage of the summer vacation, I decided to apply for Huarui's summer internship to see in person how the company is, just not to waste my talents and financial knowledge. Soon I entered the building, but how can the interviewer in the middle feel a bit familiar, the more I look at it, the more I recognize... Wait, isn't it exactly Li Zeyan?! What's happening, is Huarui going bankrupt? Why is the president personally do the interviewing for the summer interns? Page 3 "Manager Chen has something to do, I happen to be free." Probably my shock expression was too obvious. Li Zeyan flipped through the information at hand and looked up at me blankly. "Gao Qishan? First, briefly introduce yourself." I don't know what's going on. I was so startled by Li Zeyan that I couldn't help but straighten up. After swallowing my throat, I mobilized all my attention, took a deep breath and said, "Hello, my name is Gao Qishan, and I am a freshman in the Department of Economics and Management of the University of City A..." Page 4 After introducing himself, Li Zeyan asked a few more related professional questions. This kind of small question is nothing to me. It seems that Huarui’s interview is nothing more than that. He occasionally knocked his fingers on the table subconsciously, and asked with a deep gaze: "Why do you want to come to Huarui for an internship?" The continuous response made me more and more relaxed. I changed my sitting position and quickly thought about how to deal with this new question. Judging from previous information, Li Zeyan is a person who likes to win at everything. He should appreciate the kind of answers that seem extraordinarily confident, right? Page 5 After carefully thinking about this, I straightened my back and raised my chin and said: Although Huarui is quite a new company, it has grown at an amazing speed, and the achievements it has made so far are obvious to all in the industry. And although I am a freshman student, I think I have a very strong learning ability. In this regard, I have a lot of similarities with Huarui. Therefore, I think Huarui is very suitable for me and will definitely make me grow faster. Of course, I can definitely give back the same freshness and vitality for Huarui. With a confident smile, I finished my speech and waited quietly for Li Zeyan's nod. But to my surprise, a few seconds later I was greeted by a frown from Li Zeyan. Page 6 "It seems that you have confidence in yourself. To be a man and to do things really requires self-confidence, but everything must be controlled." Li Zeyan stared at me and said in a hurry, "Only by maintaining reflection and introspection can we truly make progress." I understood his words, and my face flushed. A few days later, I really received a notice from HR (Human Resources) and I didn't get hired. Page 7 Although I had a foreseeable result from Li Zeyan's remarks, when I really received a reply and recalled the interview scene, I was still very angry. After my sophomore year, I went back to the final exams and tried to fight for the first place. I'll make sure that my ambitions are not just mere words. I have written down the "new hatred and old hatred" on my notes. I will definitely use the shortest time to create my own territory, leaving Huarui far behind! Chapter 3 Page 1 Today is the first day of my "Yuanshan Group" moving to a new building. Morning light came in from the spacious floor-to-ceiling windows, and I stood by the desk, proudly holding on to the brand-new office chair. In the next semester of the junior year, I used the dividends I participated in the project as the start-up capital, and I didn't need a penny higher than the old one, so my "distant mountain" just rose from the ground. Isn’t it just 20-year-old to start a company from scratch? What's the difficulty? When I founded Yuanshan, I was exactly 21, and the rounding is almost the same as Li Zeyan. Because of this, my old man, Lao Gao stopped training me long ago, and I guess he must have praised me secretly. Page 2 In just a few years, Yuanshan has grown from a small company of eight people to a scale that now occupies a seven-story high-end office building, and the suffix has also changed from "company" to the word "group". To be honest, my founder is very satisfied with Yuanshan's growth. Although there is still a certain distance from Huarui, after all, they are also developing along the way, but it doesn't matter, I am still young, and sooner or later I can catch up. It didn't take long before the opportunity to "catch up" came. Page 3 I was originally interested in the land to the north of Lianyu City. When I heard that Huarui was also planning to bid on that land, I became more interested. The Lianyu Municipal Government intends to develop the somewhat hindered northern side. At present, construction has begun to build a crossing bridge and a shopping mall, and this piece of land is nearby. "It is more than enough to build a six-star resort with 18,000 square meters and the supporting facilities can be added. Maybe Huarui made the same idea." I have paid attention to the recent developments of Huarui and have invested in four resort hotels one after another. The senior management of the company also agreed that the land is worthwhile, and if it can be won within the highest valuation of 89 million yuan, it should make a profit without losing it. Page 4 A month later, I came to the auction site with confidence. Sitting in front of me at ten o'clock is Li Zeyan, the president of Huarui in a suit and leather shoes. After a few years of absence, I can finally compete with him. On the stage, the auctioneer gave an impassioned introduction to the land, and then said in a melodious tone: "The starting price is 35 million, and the auction will begin now!" As soon as the voice fell, several companies immediately raised their signs. But my opponent is Huarui. It is still early, so I have to wait for Huarui to make a move. Page 5 When the bidding became increasingly fierce, Li Zeyan finally raised his placard for the first time: "60 million." The opponent finally appeared, and I immediately raised the number plate: "61 million." As if he was just encountering an ordinary bidder, Li Zeyan never answered with words, but raised his placard again: "70 million." I continued to chase: "71 million!" Side to the front, Li Zeyan seemed to raise his eyebrows slightly. After a few seconds, he raised the number plate again, and said: "80 million." Page 6 "81 million!" As if finally realizing my bite, Li Zeyan glanced at me slightly sideways, then he raised the number plate, the noise was low and clear: "90 million." This figure has already exceeded the company's highest valuation, and the assistant quietly tugged on my sleeve, beckoning me to forget it. But if I really give up on this, I still feel no sigh of relief in my heart. The auctioneer has already shouted in front: "90 million twice." Page 7 "100 million!" My voice came out, at the last moment. Of course, Li Zeyan finally gave me a straight look. I watched his hand nervously, and saw that the number plate was never raised again, and the auctioneer had already shouted excitedly: "One hundred million! Yuanshan Group has come out of one hundred million! One hundred million once! Three hundred million!, make a deal!" Page 8 Finally got it! Such a valuable piece of land I believe it will be a great help to Yuanshan, and it’s just around the corner to get rid of Huarui. I didn't even consider the cost of 100 million yuan. I just felt that my body was comfortable and exuberant, and the bright prospects were beckoning me. When Li Zeyan passed by me, my triumphant pride couldn't stop. "Thanks to Mr. Li for the bidding this time." Page 9 Li Zeyan put his suit jacket on one hand, and passed by me. I thought he would argue with me back, but Li Zeyan just raised his eyebrows uninterested, and then strode away without looking back. Okay, as the winner of the auction, I allow the loser to occasionally gaffe. Just when I was gearing up to do a big job, the Finance Department urgently sent a bad report. Due to my "passionate bidding", Yuanshan's capital chain suddenly had a problem. Chapter 4 Page 1 I urgently convened a high-level meeting, and after several discussions, the best solution at present turned out to be to invest in Huarui! Personally speaking, I have a hundred reluctances in my heart. Not long before the auction, I took the initiative to bow to Hua Rui. Didn't that slap me in the face severely. However, the cruel reality lies in front of us. Yuanshan is not only my own person, but also the collective effort of hundreds of employees. To let Yuanshan survive this crisis steadily, I can only and must "take the initiative to surrender" to Huarui. Forget it, "vote" just "vote"! Although it was a mistake in my decision-making this time, Yuanshan's development prospects are so good that Li Zeyan should never not invest as long as his eyes are correct. Page 2 However, the negotiation process is still more difficult than I expected. It is not that Huarui has no intention to invest, but almost all the conditions listed are on the lowest line of the distant mountains. "If I remember correctly, the creditworthiness of Huarui's previous investment in the gaze lock company is not very high." I fought hard against the low pressure, and Yuanshan's creditworthiness has always been in the top four in the industry. "...with Yuanshan's creditworthiness Huarui's right to speak will definitely be improved. I think Mr. Li can think about it again." Page 3 "Do you think you are still eligible to negotiate terms with me?" Li Zeyan straightened his mouth, exuding deterrence, "...Huarui Investment in Yuanshan is not for charity, and has no obligation to pay for your suicidal behavior." He raised his hand and glanced at his watch, with a hint of impatience on his face: "Think carefully about it yourself." The long negotiation was finally over. Although Yuanshan and Huarui finally reached a cooperation intention, the whole process failed me. I thought I was about to be on the same line of competition with Li Zeyan, but I was beaten back to the former "interviewer" again. Page 4 By the area downstairs in Huarui, I was smoking a stuffy cigarette, and suddenly there was a faint sound of footsteps behind me. It turned out to be Li Zeyan. Although he was still expressionless, the murderous aura and arrogance from the negotiations seemed to have diminished. Li Zeyan steadily walked to my side: "Gao Qishan, I remember you once came to interview for a summer internship." I didn't expect Li Zeyan to take the initiative to speak. I was surprised. He said: "Several years have passed, and it seems that self-confidence is increasing." If it wasn't for my lose, I stood up slightly: “Although I made a mistake this time, as far as the strength of Yuanshan is concerned, I have the capital to be confident." Page 5 "Yuanshan's strength is indeed pretty good, but don't rush to eat the cakes that you can't eat for the time being. Being high is far from a long-term plan for enterprise development." Li Zeyan said lightly, and took out a card from his pocket and handed it to me, "There will be a practical business forum in Lianyu City next week. You can come and listen when you have time." A practical business forum? What do you mean, is he mocking me for being too pragmatic? The inexplicable enthusiasm and self-esteem suddenly appeared, and I blurted out: "Mr. Li, even if Yuanshan is really not as good as Huarui now, there is no need to humiliate people like this, right?" Page 6 Li Zeyan frowned: "What are you talking about?" He paused, his eyes sinking, "I thought you would be an opponent you could look forward to, but I didn't expect the vision to be just like that." Without additional explanation, Li Zeyan turned and walked away after speaking. I was stunned, looking at Li Zeyan's steadily leaving behind, I couldn't help but relive the conversation just now in my mind. Could it be that Li Zeyan meant that because he regarded me as a potential opponent and hoped that this opponent could become stronger and more competitive, did he propose to let me participate in the business forum? Page 7 That's right, it seems that only such an explanation can make sense! Thinking of this, I couldn't help blowing a whistle. After all, it was an "imaginary enemy" and pursuit of goals since the age of 17, which can be affirmed and recognized by Li Zeyan. It is simply an easter egg that comes with the negotiation, and it is worthy of the old man to praise me ten times. I was being silly and happy. Suddenly my fingers hurt, I have forgotten about my cigarette that was about to burn my fingers! Chapter 5 Page 1 With Huarui's capital injection, Yuanshan passed the crisis steadily. After more than half a year, the foundation of the resort has gradually taken shape. Just when everything seemed to be going in a good direction, early this morning, the news of "the crash of the president of Huarui" directly bombed all major platforms. Reminiscent of the so-called "homicide list" that was suddenly leaked on the internet a few days ago, I inexplicably feel that these two things may have some connection. Who on earth wants Huarui to sink in the water? Wait a minute, which company announced the list. Could it be that their person in charge is secretly playing tricks? Page 2 Before I could find anything out of my investigation, within a few days, the news of "Which company claims that Huarui has maliciously acquired a large number of pharmaceutical companies" once again detonated all platforms! "Deliberately monopolizing the pharmaceutical market will inevitably cause the price of medicines to rise, which is obvious." "Just for profit, this behavior is very bad!" "Even Huarui's own workers and can't stand it, which shows how terrible Li Zeyan's actions are!" Page 3 Opinions on the Internet are divergent, and public grievances are boiling, and they all accuse Huarui. But I don’t believe it. Although I have only met Li Zeyan several times in person, for so many years, because I have always regarded him as an opponent and target, I have studied Huarui and Li Zeyan’s behavior more than anyone else. The nonsense on the Internet, I don't believe a word! I browsed the web quickly, staring at the almost identical title and searched viciously. Page 4 "Huarui’s reputation plummeted, Li Zeyan fell into a situation where everyone was clamoring and angry, and the heads of the company was clearly cut off from him." In the video, the host's voice kept ringing into my ears. All the signs made me firmer in my previous thoughts: It must be looking at which company is crossing the river to demolish the bridge! I immediately called the assistant to the inside line: "How much do you hire me for a large number of naval forces? How many can you hire? How many! That's right, I have to spare no effort to clarify for Huarui, and by the way, I will focus on the company. Going right now!" I know that this "bad strategy" and only a small help but I haven't beaten Li Zeyan righteously, how could Huarui have an accident in such a situation! What I want is not the taste of winning without a fight. Page 5 Probably because of anger, I couldn't help but send a message to Li Zeyan: The outside world said that Huarui's energy is exhausted. You will not be reduced to the point where you still need to borrow money from me, right?" This message was sent, and I did not expect Li Zeyan to reply to me. However, when it was almost midnight, I suddenly received an email from Huarui. ‘Huarui has always been a responsible company, and will do what it says without fear of any storms. Now everything is running normally, you don't need to worry about it.’ Signer: Li Zeyan. Page 6 Looking at this email, I couldn't help but smile in the middle of the night. Also, Huarui has always been fighting steadily, and Li Zeyan has never fought unprepared battles. Maybe he is playing a big move. Otherwise, how can I say that he is my respectable and close opponent! As for my secret match with Li Zeyan. Give me another three or four years to see who wins and who loses.

#rumors and secrets Victor #mr love queens choice #mr love queens choice victor #love and producer #love and producer li zeyan #mr love victor

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joheun-saram · 4 years

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The Back of Your Car (myg)

Summary- How would you deal if you were stuck in the trunk of your best friend’s car with your new crush?

word count- 3.3k

pairing- undergroundrapper!yoongi x recentgraduate!reader

rating- R

genre- fluff, smut(ish?), friends2lovers, collegeau

warnings- nothing too bad, just making out and dry humping to orgasm lol, oh and swearing.

a.n- my first Yoongi fic? Yes sirrrrrrr. I be simping for this man all day everyday. Also, yes the premise is dumb but also who doesn’t wanna be locked in a trunk with Yoongi. Just me? Okay. Coolcoolcool.

This was written for the ‘A Long Hot Summer’ project by @thebtswritersclub. The member I picked was Yoongi and the sense I chose was touch, because when you can’t see you can only feel. 👀 Hope you like it!

Feedback much appreciated! 💕

gif is not mine! :)

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“Really guys? Really?” You sighed as you stared at the small trunk of Jin’s sedan. You were so done with your friends. The audacity of them to ask you to jump into the trunk for the two-hour-long ride.

“What? We cleared all the junk for you! Plus it’s not like you’ll be alone.” Namjoon stated matter-of-factly, his hands on his hips.

Your friends had been planning this week-long trip to Jin’s cottage for the past month as the last hurrah before everyone really started working in the real world, and somehow everyone had missed the fact that two cars would not be enough for your group of ten and all your belongings.

You had been friends with most of them since at least the start of university, over five years ago, but you’d be lying if you said they still didn’t annoy you at times. Well, you had been friends with everyone except Min Yoongi, the person you were being forced to now share this tiny trunk with.

“Why can’t Jungkook and I share the trunk?” You looked pleadingly at your closest friend. Jungkook and you had been friends since childhood and his bunny smile was present in almost all your pictures. Although you had been introduced when he and your younger brother became friends in fifth grade, it soon became evident that he and you were a better friendship fit as after middle school his appearances at your house soon turned from gaming with your brother to watching movies and arguing over anime in your bedroom. He had seen you madly in love with your first boyfriend and then seen you ugly cry, wasted at 2 am after your first breakup. Whereas, you had been there to buy him a cake and blast Lonely Island in his dorm when he lost his virginity in his freshman year of university. Jungkook was comfortable, Jungkook was easy. Plus, your habit of platonic cuddles made you far more comfortable spooning him for two hours than the mysterious Yoongi, who you met four months ago and may or may not be harboring a massive crush on.

“Noona, I can barely fit in there alone! You and hyung are the smallest of the group. It just makes sense!” Jungkook looked proud of his logic, patting your head smugly as you glared at him. You hated that he was now the muscle-bound version of the scrawny kid you used to know but more so you hated that he was entirely justified in his logic.

“But what if we get rear-ended? I will die! Do you want me to die?!” You were exasperated as you stared at the group with wide eyes. This was not how you imagined the end of your summer before the real world to be - with Hosoek’s car filled with all your supplies, taking up most of the backseat, leading to your dilemma. Who had thought it was a good idea to bring an icebox that won’t fit in the trunk? Well, none other than the host, Jin, who insists his steaks needed ample room to breathe in the ice for the ride up to the woods.

“You can get in first, so if we get rear-ended my death will cushion you,” Yoongi spoke softly, looking at you as you blinked dumbfoundedly at him. Although you were sure this was part of his dark humor, you felt a flush creep up your neck at his attempt to dissuade your worries.

Yoongi was introduced to your friends through Namjoon. Your tightly knit group of friends barely talked to anyone else but Namjoon was the social butterfly, always at parties or networking for his Soundcloud growth. He was an amazing rapper, selling out most small clubs he performed at. That’s where he had met Yoongi, befriending him when they performed together, and slowly integrating him into your clan. At first, it didn’t seem like his quiet, introspective persona would fit in your group’s dynamic, what with Jimin and Taehyung’s constant platonic PDA, Hoseok and Namjoon’s rap battles, and Jin, Jungkook and your bickering, but he seemed to have found a groove, seamlessly integrating himself. His deadpan comments whenever Jimin and Taehyung got too much, his addition to the rap battles, and his role as a mediator over your arguments had slowly made Yoongi a solid part of your dynamic in a short amount of time. Even Namjoon and Jin’s girlfriends who had been a part of the crew for over one and two years, respectively, hadn’t gelled in this fast, still feeling like they were eight-wheeling a giant polyamorous group.

“Umm… thanks? But that’s not the point. We shouldn’t have to ride in the trunk because Jin’s precious icebox stole the seat!” You tried to play it cool, ignoring the amused smirk that Jungkook threw your way as he spied your face heating up. He was all too aware of your crush and would take every opportunity to make you feel awkward around Yoongi.

“Okay tell you what. If you guys ride in the back, we’ll give you guys the best room in the house. First pick and everything,” Jin negotiated, clearly annoyed at the situation and wanting to get on the road.

“Alright. One more condition though. You all are buying mine and Yoongi’s drinks for the whole trip.” You acquiesce, because to be honest the master bedroom at Jin’s cottage was the most coveted spot, usually not even up for discussion. It boasted a king bed with the softest mattress imaginable, not to mention the ensuite bathroom consisting of a jacuzzi. You were beyond excited to snag that baby to yourself for the week. Plus, with your alcohol tolerance being among the highest of the group, you were excited not to drop any money on alcohol.

With hums and cheers of agreement, the party started moving along. You climbed in Jin’s trunk first, opting to face Yoongi rather than spoon him awkwardly. He climbed in with much less resistance than you, curling up as far as he could. Space, however, was smaller than you had anticipated and in this position, even though you both crossed your arms, your knees and arm were touching. You were happy when Namjoon abruptly shut the top, engulfing you both in darkness since it hid how red your face had become at the proximity. Your skin felt like it was on fire where it touched his, your heart speeding. You wondered if he could hear it and if it was healthy if it kept this pace for the next two hours.

Surprisingly you could barely hear what was happening in the car, voices coming through in muffled and music barely audible, drowned by the hum of the engine that roared through as the car started moving, slowly jostling you.

“You okay?” Yoongi asked tentatively after a few minutes. “You seemed a bit nervous about getting in.”

“Yeah, it’s just a little claustrophobic.” You weren’t lying, although it felt more so because of your feelings for Yoongi. Although you routinely hang out with him and your friends, practically every day this summer, if you were really counting, you had never once hung out with him alone. Even when he requested to record your vocals for one of his songs, Namjoon had been there. Now just sitting with him alone you felt extremely awkward, unable to deal with your feelings.

“Here, let me turn my flashlight on,” he said as he dug around for his phone in his pocket, one of his calves now between yours. “I heard that light can help with that.”

You were suddenly blinded as he turned on his flashlight. As your eyes adjusted to the onslaught of photons, you saw Yoongi’s face, much closer than you had thought it’d be. Although you had found him attractive since the first time you met him, you had never seen him this close. His cheeks were squished by his shoulder, his long black bangs swept haphazardly across his forehead as his lips pursed in a little pout. You didn’t think you could find him more attractive but he took your breath away. You don’t know how long you just stared at him but your trance was broken as you saw his lips move, registering what he was saying far more slowly than usual.

“I’m sorry you’re in here with me. I’m not the best company, I know.” He averted his gaze opting to look above him.

“What? Why would you say that?”

“I don't know. You wanted to be in here with Jungkook. I understand though, he’s much nicer than I am.” Your heart fell at that. You didn’t think he would be bothered by your insistence to be with Jungkook and you were starting to feel guilty.

“I only said that because I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“You don’t have to say that. It’s fine I get it. You don’t really like me.” He looked into your eyes, trying to search for any dishonesty.

“Of course I like you. What?”

“Oh? It’s just that you never talk to me.” Oh if only he knew the reason why you never talked to him was that you were scared you were going to stumble over your words and make a fool out of yourself.

“I… You never talk to me either!” You tried to move further away from him so he couldn’t make out the flush that was creeping up with your neck, finding you had nowhere else to move to.

“I always try to talk to you. You either answer in one word or just walk away.” Yoongi didn’t know why he was being so insistent but he needed to know. He had found you interesting the moment he met you. Every joke you made had made him laugh and he would be lying if he didn’t listen to the vocals you recorded for him almost daily. “It’s okay… I’m sorry. You just make me nervous.”

“Me? I make you nervous?” You tried to control the giggle that arose at his comment but were unsuccessful. Why would you make Yoongi of all people nervous?

“You’re intimidating!” He laughed, smiling at you.

“Sure… Whatever you say Yoongi.”

Soon your conversation moved to a comfortable one, sharing anecdotes about your friends and laughing over their antics. You hadn’t realized how easy it would be to talk to him once you were over your nerves. You hadn’t even thought about the constant voice in your head that made you spaz every time you saw him. However, that was short-lived as suddenly, you were thrown into the darkness, the light from Yoongi’s phone cutting off.

“Ah. Sorry. I think my phone’s dead.” He reaches between you to tap his phone to no avail, his fingertips lightly brushing your skin, making your skin tingle and reminding you again why you were nervous.

“It’s okay.” You don’t know why you whispered, but somehow the dark changed the entire atmosphere - your nerves kicking into high gear again. You could feel the hum of the car, each little bump on the road overtly noticeable. If you didn’t know any better you’d say you could feel his breath on your face. Yoongi felt it too - the comfort dissipating into tension, making his heart beat faster.

“Careful!” He hisses as the car hits an exceptionally big bump, his hand instinctively reaching out to hold your head to ensure you don’t hit it at the back, while his other goes to your waist to pull you closer. In the cramped space, there was nowhere to go and you could feel your skin heating up where he touched you, sending sparks down your spine.

The air seemed to have thickened between you - the jokes of earlier fading away to make room for whatever this tension was as your heart pounded in your chest, his breath now definitely on your face. Suddenly there’s another bump, and Yoongi takes the opportunity to pull you closer, his jean-clad leg moving further between your bare ones. You suddenly realize how close this leg is to your core, and a slight whimper escapes your lips. His eyes go wide. There’s no way that sound was for him, was it? Regardless of all the times he had dreamt of having you in his arms, surely his mind was playing tricks on him. There was no way you were actually into him like he was into you.

“Y/N…” he says softly as he tries to unsuccessfully make out your eyes in the dark. You feel your face flush as you realize that you didn’t imagine the whimper, you actually made that noise, out loud. Panicking you rack your brain for an excuse, but all you can do is say his name, speaking it breathlessly into the small space.

He feels his heart accelerate when he hears his name from your lips. If he didn’t know any better he would think it almost sounded like a plea. It’s taking all his willpower not to crash his lips against yours, to hear more of your whimpers. Before he can get too lost in his thoughts another bump on the road sends you forward, your hands fisting in his shirt, faces only a hair length apart.

You don’t know who leaned in first but soon your lips are against each other. He feels your soft lips on him and it’s like he’s in a trance. The dark seems to have heightened his senses and it's like he can feel every single movement tenfold. You move your hands from his shirt to the nape of his neck, wanting him closer and it seems that he wants the same as his hand moves from your waist to your hips, pulling you closer.

You feel his tongue on your lips and you oblige, feeling sparks of electricity flow through you as you taste him. He tastes like mint and coffee, a combination that you would have found abhorrent except right now it felt like the sweetest nectar. The kiss is desperate like if you stopped the other would disappear, and it leaves you panting.

In between kisses, Yoongi grabs your ass, groping it and making you moan in his mouth. A smile makes its way across his face as he relishes your sounds. He can’t believe this is happening. He kisses down your jaw to your neck, wanting to taste every bit of you.

“I’ve been wanting to do this since I first saw you.” You pant in between moans as he sucks on the sensitive juncture where your neck meets your shoulders, the dark igniting a boldness in you. Hearing you say that makes him stop. He wishes he could see your face to see if you were joking, but before he can get too much in his head, he hears you whine his name.

“Me too. Fuck.” He says as he continues kissing your neck as he starts moving your hips, making you grind against him. Even through layers of clothing the friction from his thigh on your clit is palpable, making your breath hitch, your hand holding on to his sleeve at the shoulder. “Is this okay?”

You can only moan in response as he abandons your hips now that you found a rhythm and moves his hand up towards your chest, moving it under the hem of your shirt. Your skin is deliciously soft as he strokes your stomach gently before he moves to your back in search of a clasp, only to find none. You weren’t wearing a bra and that only made him harder as he cupped your chest, feeling your nipples under his thumb as he grazed over them. The sensation was unbelievable, making you soak your panties, it was like his hands were barely there, making you arch your back, chasing his touch. You could feel your orgasm building as you felt the tension in your stomach build. He had barely even touched you and you felt like you were going to lose your mind. Each sensation felt new. You finally understood what Madonna was talking about in that song.

You pulled his face close to you mewling a “please” against his lips as you crashed your lips against them. You melt into him, the passionate kiss igniting more pleasure in both of you.

“Are you going to cum baby?” He asks, his breath mingling with your pants, the nickname warming your heart, as he pulls your head back gently by your hair, giving him more access to your neck, sucking and kissing, driving you closer to the edge. “Go ahead. Cum on my leg baby.”

The pressure inside you grows as you grind faster, the friction against your clit simultaneously too much and too little. He finally increases the pressure on your nipples, rolling them between his fingers as he ravishes your mouth with a deep kiss, making you come undone. Your legs shake, your hands grabbing at his shirt and hair, walls clenching around nothing as you cum.

“Fuck. Yoongi” you whine as you come down from your high, his lips still on your neck, your panties sticking to you.

“God. You’re so hot.” Your moans are still ricocheting through his mind as he takes your hand in his, intertwining your fingers and kissing the top of it. Even though he didn’t get any relief and his boner still painfully lies against his tight jeans, he doesn’t mind, enjoying your scent as he nuzzles your neck.

“Yoongi, I have to tell you something.” He wishes he could see you. The way you began your sentence makes his heart ache in anticipation as you pause longer. “I like you.”

“I’m glad you don’t kiss people you hate like this.” Yoongi is elated, pulling you in for another kiss, different this time. It’s gentle and he wants to put all the emotions he’s been feeling in it. He wants to show you he likes you just the same, if not more. You pull him closer as you return the kiss, mirroring his tenderness.

“No, I mean I don’t want this to be a one-time thing.” It makes his heart race. He can’t believe how lucky he is.

“I’ve been dreaming about you since I met you, do you think I’m going to let you go now?” He chuckles as he kisses your forehead and here cramped in the back of Jin’s car you think you’ve found heaven. “We should really thank Jin and his obsession with steaks, eh?”

You laugh as you feel the car come to a stop, giddy with endorphins, your four-month crush finally coming to fruition. The sunlight is bright when the guys open the trunk, blinding you momentarily before your eyes focus to see Yoongi smile at you, wide with his gums on display. It makes you giggle like a lovestruck teenager when he tucks your hair behind your ear. To Yoongi at that moment, you’re the most beautiful person he’s met. He climbs out of the car, helping you out as well.

“What the fuck? Did you guys make out in the back of my car?” Jin yells as he looks at the two of you and both of you go red at being caught.

“Umm… no. Why would you say that?” You avert your gaze from the broad-shouldered man bashfully as he looks at the two of you wide-eyed.

“Noona, hyung has your lipstick all over his face.” Jungkook supplies, a cocky smirk on his face, and that’s when you register Yoongi’s lips and jaw painted your signature red, making you laugh uncontrollably.

“Whatever. It looks good on me.” Yoongi says with a drawl and an eye roll as he holds your hand in his. “Let’s just go to the cottage, okay?”

He leads the group, your fingers intertwined. That week you make sure to take advantage of the room you both won. The jacuzzi does wonders to heal your soreness from your adventures in the king-sized bed, much to the chagrin of Hoseok who had the unfortunate luck of sleeping in the room next door.

#bts fanfic #yoongi fluff #suga fluff #bts x y/n #bangtan sonyeondan #bts smut #yoongi x you #suga x you #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #yoongi smut #suga smut #bts x reader #bts fic #bts

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malikmata · 3 years

Text

Notes from a Brown Boy - Kansas Diaries

*Author’s Note: Some people’s names have been changed to protect their identities

The rain was the first thing to greet me when I landed in Wichita. Overhead the gray clouds loomed, shadowing the farmland that yawned in the distance. Distance. At first glance, the city seemed like one long stretch of prairies and cracked parking lots, occasionally punctuated by billboards of grinning injury lawyers and lit up restaurant road signs.

If you spend enough time here amid the crumbling old buildings, watching the weeds sway in the vacant lots, you’ll feel the slow, inevitable creep of dread or something like it.

It’s easy to feel lonely here.

But, if you’re receptive enough, you’ll run into many friendly folks. Sometimes too friendly.

For example: During my first week, I went to Freddy’s, a local fast food chain, and ordered a crispy chicken sandwich with fries. The cashier, a young woman with glasses and short blonde hair, suddenly started confessing her fear that her 8-year old chihuahua wouldn’t live a long life.

“I still think of him as a teenager,” she said.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “He’s a chihuahua. They live long lives.”

Out here, in the most middle-of-the-road cities, you sometimes get a chance to show an act of passing kindness. While waiting in line at one of the hip, new cafes downtown, a place called Milkfloat, a tall elderly gentleman recommended which coffee and pastry to get.

“My wife says this place has the best cold brew in town.” Afterwards, grabbing his pastry and coffee, he wished me a good day. Most folks here always do and you better hope it comes true. Because here, like elsewhere, a day is filled with ordinary heartbreaks.

I will simply call her “Tita.” She works as a tailor at a department store, the only tailor working there, hemming and tapering racks full of suit pants under fluorescent lights. The nature of the job requires exact measurements and a keen eye for detail. She works hard, often skips lunch, and comes home dead tired. Her husband is recovering from 4 broken ribs after a car repair job went awry. Nothing can be done but wait until he gets better.

They live in a languid suburb on Wichita’s east side, a street with few sidewalks but plenty of lawn.

And noise. Plenty of noise. The neighborhood sits next to a car dealership. The skies overhead rumble continuously with airplanes and thunderstorms. Dogs bark at anyone who gets too close. A pickup truck blasts a corny country song as the cicadas and frogs belt out their lonely mating calls. Occasionally, a child’s laughter rises above it all.

Gossip is one of the great pastimes in towns like these. Even if you shut yourself up in your home, stories trickle in.

The neighbor across the street shot himself in the head.

The elderly couple that used to live next door got committed to a nursing home.

A fellow around the corner is on his third attempt to grow weed.

A college student starves himself morning to night so that he can save money for college.

Down the street, a kid lifts weights and punches the heavy bag hanging on his front porch.

Here, dumb luck seems, more so than in the big cities, the providence of God.

A man told me he got a job installing new carpets at a friend’s house. He was in desperate need of money, having sent most of it to his mother back home, who proceeded to gamble it away. When he ripped out the old carpet, he found a bundle of $10,000 dollars just lying there. His co-worker said, “We should split it.”

“No, no, we can’t take it.” the man said. He gave the money to his friend.

Sometime later, he went to the casino and couldn’t stop winning jackpot after jackpot. He brought home close to $16,000 in one night.

“So, if you do something good,” he told me, “God will remember that.”

Many people have come to live and die here, all of them wrapped up in the melancholic churning of faded ambitions and familial obligations.

Some people here have found something that returns them to the placidity they once felt in their youth. Sometimes that’s enough to keep them going.

For example:

I met Phil Uhlik, the namesake of the music store on E Douglas. He heard me playing an old Martin acoustic in one of the rooms. He shuffled in slightly hunched over, wearing a blue paisley shirt and brown shorts. He looked at the sunburst guitar in my hands and said, “It’s got a little beauty mark there.” He pointed to a small nick just above the sound hole. “All girls have beauty marks.” He pointed to his cheeks and smiled.

Uhlik started this music store 51 years ago and enjoys every moment of it.

“When you go to work for Boeing, that’s work,” he said. “But this, it doesn’t feel like work.” He motioned to the instruments all around him.

“How’d you get started?” I asked.

“I started off playing one of these,” he said, taking one of the accordions off a nearby shelf. As he strapped it on, all the years seemed to disappear. With a big crooked-teeth grin, he breathed life into the old accordion, his hands dancing up and down the keys. The smile never left his face as we bid farewell to each other.

I wish everyone in this world were as lucky as Phil.

I’m always seeking indie bookstores when I travel. Eighth Day Books provides much needed shelter from the summer heat. The shop was built 33 years ago and used to be located about half a mile east, in Clifton Square Village. About 17 years ago they moved to their current location, a 1920 Dutch-style colonial house on the corner of E Douglas and N Erie. Its blue trimmed windows peek through the foliage of neighboring trees.

When you walk in, you’ll see shelves of books on Christianity and Theological studies, most notably in the Eastern Orthodox tradition. I’ve never seen a bookshop with a section dedicated to Iconography.

Wichita, despite its size, feels like a small place. And with that cramped spaciousness, you’re likely to run into someone you may remember or who may remember you. Here I ran into my girlfriend’s 8th grade English teacher. A bald, bespectacled man with a gentle demeanor. After a bit of catching up, he said to us with a smile, “I hope all your dreams come true.”

The short story writer, Raymond Carver, once wrote: “Dreams… are what you wake up from.”

Wichita is a land that hypnotizes you; it makes you dream, dream of something beyond the miles of strip malls and airplane factories, beyond the shocks of wheat and windswept plains, beyond the doldrums and ennui. But it also shakes you awake, reminds you that you’re in it, that you better stop dreaming.

I’m not the religious sort anymore, having survived the regime laid down by my Catholic parents. But there is something enthralling, maybe even inspirational, when I look at the rows of beautifully painted portraits of saints and martyrs. Such solemn faces surrounded by golden halos. According to the Eastern Orthodox tradition, such paintings transcend art; they’re supposed to be windows through which you can glimpse the divine. They remind me of my grandparents with their judging eyes and moral seriousness.

My book haul for the day:

Snow Country by Yasunari Kawabata

The Diary of Anne Frank

Earthly Signs: Moscow Diaries by Marina Tsvetaeva

Near to the Wild Heart by Clarice Lispector

In that last book, I found this lovely little passage:

…”in the Revolution, as always, the weight of everyday life falls on women: previously--in sheaves, now in sacks. Everyday life is a sack with holes. And you carry it anyway.”

From Earthly Signs, P. 40

According to the 2019 United States census bureau, 15.9% of Wichita's population lives below the poverty line. That’s higher than the state average, which hovers around 11.4%. That’s not the lowest nor is it the highest in the country. As befitting its location, Kansas is right in the middle.

The minimum wage in Kansas is still $7.25 despite efforts to increase it to $15. When Covid-19 hit, city and service workers bore the brunt of the impact. You can keep all your empty slogans like “We Love Our Frontline Workers.” Congratulate me all you want for my hard work but where’s my pay?

When you see that business here has returned to normal--people freely walking around without masks, no longer socially distancing--it still feels all too strange; we spent an entire year under lockdown. There’s still a pandemic by the way.

Loved ones fell ill, died alone, hooked up to ventilators in closed off hospital rooms. I believe every interaction now carries the weight of all those deaths. My family, like so many others, didn’t escape unscathed from the pandemic. My grandpa, Amang, caught Covid. Since he was an elderly citizen (and suffering from emphysema to boot), he was among those considered most at risk. We all feared the worst. Somehow he survived. The doctors called him a “trailblazer.”

Now, with businesses back to 100% capacity, I’m afraid that, just like the 1918 Flu epidemic, the past will fade like a nightmare upon waking. But it was so much more than that; it was an avoidable tragedy.

If you want to know what this pandemic has done to people and their livelihoods, is still doing to them, take a ride through downtown.

Things were already going bad before Covid hit. Back in 2004, the writer Thomas Frank wrote,

“There were so many closed shops in Wichita… that you could drive for blocks without ever leaving their empty parking lots, running parallel to the city streets past the shut-down sporting goods stores and toy stores and farm implement stores.”

What’s the Matter with Kansas: How Conservatives Won the Heart of America, P. 75

What led to all this blight? Frank attributes the decline to:

“the conservatives’ beloved free market capitalism, a system that, at its most unrestrained, has little use for smalltown merchants or the agricultural system that supported the small towns in the first place.”

-P. 79

The same story happens in a lot of places. A megacorporation keeps eating everything around it and leaves nothing else at the table.

The people are left hurting, a pit in their stomachs, and some asshole somewhere profits off of it.

While at the DMV, I overheard this:

“You have a good day now,” the security guard said.

“I’ll try my best,” a woman said.

My girlfriend heard them too and laughed.

“You really do have to try your best in order to have a good day here.”

At some point, we hit the town with a couple friends: Monica, and her boyfriend Will. Both are musicians trying to carve out their niche in a place that, on the surface, seems apathetic to creative pursuits.

It’s impossible to not be captured by their energy. As soon as we walk into their house, Monica, with her dark blonde hair draped over her shoulders, reached in for a hug. Will, a tall and bearded fellow with a bear-like presence, also went in for the hug.

“Ready to experience some Wichita nightlife?” Monica asked.

What is the nightlife here like? A group of high school punks wanted to fight us over a couple movie theater seats. Bored kids play rounds of “Chinese Fire Drill” at stop lights. I heard a nazi biker gang rolled into town at some point during my stay. Regular things like that.

At a low-key bar downtown called Luckys, I met a guy named Cory. He told me how he met a 15 year old kid loitering here, looking lost and forlorn.

“I don’t know what kind of advice I can give you but I’ll do the best I can,” Cory said.

This is the spirit I’ve often come across during my stay: A sort of slightly intrusive compassion. For a cynical Californian like me, the behavior seems a little strange, maybe even a little annoying. But I’ve come to appreciate the candor of it.

“Guaranteed we’ll know half the people here,” Will said.

Right away, he shook hands with the bartender—a high school friend of his—and asked him how his band was doing. Afterwards, we sat down and talked. Talking, after a year of pandemic lockdown, has become a lost art to me. But a little alcohol loosened the lips and suddenly I talked as though I’d known these people my whole life.

Will sipped his whisky on the rocks and told me:

“If everything in this world is meant to break down eventually, then any act of creation becomes an act of defiance.”

It may sound naive but to me, it’s true. I think about the words of the writer, John Berger:

Compassion defies the laws of necessity. To forget yourself and identify with a stranger has a power that defies the supposed natural order of things.

--The Shape of a Pocket, P. 179

Making art has to be, in some way, a compassion act, because it involves letting the environment and the people you meet speak for themselves, allowing a collaboration.

“When a painting is lifeless it is the result of the painter not having the nerve to get close enough for a collaboration to start… Every authentic painting demonstrates a collaboration.”

--The Shape of a Pocket, P. 16

You need to open yourself up, feel what someone is saying behind their words, and hopefully, feel what they feel.

Art, like Compassion, is defiant.

Among the 4 or so Asian markets here, you can find all the ingredients you need to cook up something good. During my first week, I stopped at a place called Grace Market. Like a lot of small Asian markets, it’s family run. A father from Taiwan. A mother from Korea. The son usually helps out when he can. Today (June 23), On this warm Wednesday morning, the son is manning the cash register.

“You’re from California? I’m from there too,” he said.

“Where at?” I asked.

“Sacramento. How about you? So Cal?”

“Nah, Bay Area.”

“Funny. That’s where my parents met.”

“Small world.”

On a different day, we met the father, a jovial man who never fails to say hi when you walk in. He came here over a couple decades ago from California, doing work for the US Army in Garden City. Once his service was over, he decided to stay in Kansas.

“I think you know why,” he said.

More and more young folks these days are leaving California. The high cost of living is presumably what’s driving this exodus. I told him I was also thinking of leaving the Golden State, as much as I love the place.

“Well, a town like this has a lot of potential if you want to save money,” he said. “If I tried to start this business in California, I don’t think I could’ve done it.”

The summer heat can, with the suddenness of a lightning flash, give way to thunderous storms. Speaking as someone from California, whose home has gone through excruciating periods of drought and wildfire, these nightly downpours are a startling yet relaxing sight.

The distant boom of thunder in the distance reminds you of how much of our lives depend on the weather, how small we are in comparison, how we are never separate from the goings-on of nature. The rain doesn’t come down lightly here. At night, it smacks and drums against the window pane with all the force of an animal trying to get inside.

But I don’t find myself frightened by it so much as awed by the combined power of wind and rain colliding against our rickety old house.

Kansas lies in the Great Plains, where layers of cool and warm air often combine into a low-level jet stream. Unimpeded by any natural obstacles on the wide flat plains, the wind roars across the expanse. Thunder growls over the prairie. And lightning flashes on the horizon in a fearsome red tinge.

The storm rages throughout the night, the only source of light in an ocean-sized plain.

“In general, the gods of the Wichita are spoken of as "dreams," and they are divided into four groups: Dreams-that-are-Above (Itskasanakatadiwaha), or, as the Skidi would say, the heavenly gods; and (2) Dreams-down-Here (Howwitsnetskasade), which, according to the Skidi terminology, are the earthly gods. The latter "dreams" in turn are divided into two groups: Dreams-living-in-Water (Itska-sanidwaha), and the Dreams-closest-to-Man (Tedetskasade)”

From The Mythology of the Wichita, P. 33

If you go downtown, you’ll see a sculpture called “The Keeper of the Plains.”

It’s almost 9 o’ clock when I get there, so large crowds have gathered to watch the ring of fire lit around its perimeter.

The statue was designed by indigenous artist and craftsman, Blackbear Bosin. Born in Cyril, Oklahoma, but living much of his adult life in Wichita, Kansas, Bosin was of Comanche and Kiowa descent and almost entirely self-taught as an artist.

When you come upon the Keeper of the Plains, standing tall on the fork of the Arkansas and Little Arkansas Rivers, you can’t help but feel a mix of admiration and sadness. It’s a striking statue, especially when set against the beautiful orange and lavender hues of the setting sun. But monuments like these end up reminding you of the Wichita peoples who were killed, displaced, driven from their land, and left to die in reservations, forgotten. The tribes that once lived here along the southern plains still show traces of their culture but now, you’ll see it mostly as a memory in a museum or as art hanging on the walls of a library.

I learned from a video by the Wichita Eagle that the last speaker of the Wichita language, Doris Jean Lamar, died back in 2016. It must be indescribably lonely to be the last speaker of a language. There is no one to have a conversation with, no one to whom you can confess your hopes or your regrets. But in the video, Lamar, even knowing that she is the last speaker, expresses hope that future generations will know what the language sounded like.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5ScPkN_xGRI

Is forgiveness even possible when injustices are still committed today against native peoples everywhere?

Not enough can be said about the skies here, which seem at times so brilliantly marbled with peach and lavender colors that you begin to walk with your head perpetually craned upwards.

It’s this aspect, the overwhelming sense of the sublime, that will probably stay with me long after I’ve left Kansas.

I think again about the nature of dreams. It isn’t such a sin to dream about things, about things that haven’t happened yet, and about things that have happened. To quit dreaming seems too cynical, like admitting from the outset that everything is screwed, that you should stop trying.

During my stay here, I’ve met many people who aren’t so irony poisoned yet, people who are achingly sincere and kind. They haven’t stopped trying. There isn’t much room for cynicism here. I appreciate that a lot.

Farewell to you, Kansas, you and your clumps of cumulus and vast fields of cows and grass. I’ll see you again.

Check out Will’s music! It’s gloomy, melancholy, and LOUD!: https://teamtremolo.bandcamp.com/album/intruder

#diary #photoblog #photo diary #midwest #kansas #travel diaries

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sepublic · 4 years

Note

So given how terrible the blight parents are I wonder how their parenting methods effected Emira and Edric given their care free and rebellious nature? I also find it worth noting that the twins don’t really seem to have many reservations about who they make friends with.

Well, I’ve already tried my hand at analyzing those two. But if I had to guess…

I think the implication is that Emira and Edric have each other. Amity is clearly defined as an incredibly lonely individual, and even when she had her best friend Willow back then, she couldn’t exactly confide in Willow about any grievances she had towards her parents. But Ed and Em? They’re literal twins and siblings. No matter what they go through, they go through together.

Similarly, Emira and Edric just seem… Naturally more confident and sociable. Whether or not that’s just how they were born, or the result of slightly different upbringings, or otherwise; We can’t say for sure. But as you’ve suggested, I feel like part of the reason why the twins are such troublemakers (beyond them already having a penchant for that kind of thing), is because they’re defying their parents in their own way? Edric himself says he’s allergic to the rules; These two have no reservations about appearing ‘proper’.

Them being a lot more sociable also means that they’ve likely interacted with others more and thus have a better view of how people actually act, or at least should. Likewise, they definitely lived underneath a strict household; Maybe not TOO strict at first, but enough that these two would’ve grown to dislikes rules and authority as a result!

Then again… We never DO see Ed and Em talk to anyone outside of their family besides Luz, who they already know has a connection to Amity for various reasons. But regardless, I wouldn’t be surprised if the twins have the confidence to be more openly defiant against what their parents say because they have one another as support, just have more self-esteem like that, and interact with other people more. Even if Luz is the only ‘outsider’ we see them going out of their way to interact with, these two kids obviously are still rebels in their own right.

We also know that the twins are VERY talented- They skip class, but otherwise their grades can’t be argued with. Emira and Edric apparently have the highest scores on the exam; Or at least scores so high that Amity feels the need to compete with them. Given how Amity knows about Ed and Em’s class-skipping, but still regards their scores as valid, this would suggest that the twins are INDEED pretty skilled, and naturals at it. They don’t have much to worry about because everything they do, they ace through without effort! I have to wonder if Ed and Em are like Eda, in that they both enjoy their curriculum but hate the stifling environment, hence why all three are talented in magic but hate the rules. But given how Edric laughs about the idea of him and Emira being interested in school, probably not.

Now what’s interesting is that in Amity’s diary, she mentions how her parents apparently just let Ed and Em get away with things, and claims that she knows they aren’t perfect. I wouldn’t be surprised if Ed and Em being naturally talented and skilled, and thus having a guaranteed successful future, is why their parents are allegedly more lenient with them; To Mr. and Mrs. Blight, Emira and Edric are their popular kids who do things effortlessly and with grace! There’s nothing to worry about too much…

But Amity? I suspect that there may be pressure on her… That her parents are disappointed that Amity didn’t immediately prove to be the child prodigy that her siblings were. As a result, Amity’s parents feel the need to put extra pressure on her, to make sure she maintains the family name. But not only that…

Some more speculation, but I have to wonder if despite their good skills, Emira and Edric still manage to annoy their parents for precisely the above-mentioned reasons, and know it? Perhaps when Mr. and Mrs. Blight raised them first, they didn’t expect the twins to become so rebellious and defiant; Potentially because they had one another as support. And with the twins being confident able to see through the pressure that their parents put on them, Mr. and Mrs. Blight have essentially ‘given up’, labelling their first-born children a lost cause…

…While focusing pressure on Amity; Amity, the new kid who’s supposed to make up for the flaws of her older siblings. Amity, who isn’t too old to mold into the perfect, ideal Blight now that her parents know how they’ve ‘messed up’ with the twins. So it’s possible that Emira and Edric are considered too old to reshape into the ideal children that Mr. and Mrs. Blight want, so they’ve focused all their efforts on Amity; Who is much more vulnerable, younger, and naturally less confident. They keep a close eye on Amity and control everything about her life, because they don’t want to end up like her siblings; Who, while they ARE talented (and this somewhat compensates for their ‘mistakes’), they’re still not ideal.

So instead of bothering to discipline Emira and Edric, their parents have more or less just ignored them in favor of Amity. And, I have to wonder if Amity is also at least somewhat aware of this, given how she knows that Ed and Em seemingly don’t get in trouble with their parents, and are just naturally more defiant against the rules like that. I can see Amity’s parents encouraging her not to be like her troublemaking siblings; Or Amity just naturally competes with Ed and Em for her parents’ affection anyway. Only, her parents aren’t truly fond of the twins… Just ignoring them at this point, or passing them off as ‘sufficient’ for their grades and popularity in school.

I also have to wonder if Ed and Em turned out better because there wasn’t as much pressure back then; Their parents expected them to grow up super-obedient at the time, and didn’t foresee the twins being such troublemakers. Perhaps this privilege of not having to live as strictly led to Emira and Edric embracing a troublemaking lifestyle, and by the time their parents noticed; It was too late! They had grown to be rebellious kids and adding more rules wasn’t going to change things. So, may as well leave them to their fate and focus on the one kid they CAN change…

And as I mentioned in that previous analysis, I think Ed and Em are at least somewhat aware of the effect that their parents have on Amity, and that’s why they want her to loosen up; There is little doubt in my mind that they were also abused. Possibly not as much as Amity, but still- The effects of their parents’ teachings are still there. Emira and Edric believe in ‘tough love’, that one has to do harsh punishments for the ones they love, and I can see them also acting out of selfish retribution for being told on. Similarly, they’ve also had their fair share of just general meanness towards Amity for the sake of entertainment; I can’t completely gloss over that. This lack of self-reflection may be a result of Emira and Edric just naturally being privileged kids.

Of course, I’ll give the twins more slack given that they seem genuinely concerned with how Amity pushes others away- I’m not sure if they know why Amity broke ties off with Willow. Either way, they’re looking out for her… and I wonder if that’s part of why they like Luz so much; They see her immediately try to make a friend with Amity so unconditionally, and they’re like, “Perfect! The perfect friend to get Mittens to lighten up, a natural troublemaker who can teach her that there’s more to life than rules!” And of course, Ed and Em interact with Luz themselves and see first-hand how lovable she is, and grow to unconditionally like her as well!

TL;DR I think Emira and Edric manage to compensate for their perceived ‘flaws’ by being naturally-confident, talented people; Them having one another likely helps with this. Of course, Mr. and Mrs. Blight still see how their first-born kids are delinquents with no respect for authority… It may be due to privilege since their parents never bothered to enforce many rules, or because they DID impose them. Regardless, when Amity rolls around, the parents basically give up on the twins, and focus all their effort on molding Amity in particular while she’s still ‘young and fresh’, and making sure not to make the same ‘mistakes’ that they made in letting the twins be their own individuals.

And, this gives mixed messages to Amity; To be better than her siblings, but also being punished by her parents for not being as good as them when it comes to grades and other things like that. Ed and Em are aware of the effect their parents are having on Mittens (they’ve experienced it firsthand), but they’re not self-aware enough to realize that they’vealso internalized some toxic teachings as well, and have also been pretty harsh and mean to Amity with their pranks. They mean well, it’s just that Emira and Edric underestimate or don’t think fully on what their actions are doing; I’m fairly confident that the twins are also a major part in why Amity is the person she is now.

But, we know after Covention that they actually apologize to Amity and try to make things up to her. It’s possible that they’re also doing this to keep Amity from getting them in trouble with their parents (see my previous analysis), but genuine love is there nonetheless, alongside some growth, maturity, and self-reflection. It’s also why they like Luz so much; Not only is she just neat to the twins, but they know that she’s the perfect person for helping Amity unlearn the toxic abuse from their parents.

(What I’m saying is, Emira and Edric TOTALLY ship Lumity, and it may have been their intention from the start.)

#the owl house #owl house #ask #the owl house edric #the owl house emira #edric blight #emira blight #the owl house amity #amity blight #analysis #speculation

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mtgbracket · 3 years

Text

Tiebreaker - Mazirek, Kraul Death Priest vs Polukranos, Unchained

Hi folks! Yesterday, these two cards both got 177 votes in Batch 2.3, leading to a tie. I don’t vote in the polls so that I can be the tiebreaking vote when it’s needed. So here I am doing that.

I am going to be using the same format as I did for the ties in the original Magic Bracket - see this old post for an example. Essentially I will provide a written analysis on each card over five categories, and then finish with scores. If the scores also tie then my personal favourite gets the nod. The categories are:

- Quality of design, scored out of 10 - Power level, scored out of 5 (overpowered cards will score lower) - Flavour, scored out of 5 - Art, scored out of 5 (combined across multiple arts if there are any) - Place in Magic history, scored out of 5

Let’s get stuck in.

Mazirek, Kraul Death Priest

Design

Fittingly for a death priest, Mazirek cares about death - specifically, he’s one of the relatively few cards that care about sacrificing. While we’re more used to seeing this on black-red cards in recent years, Mazirek was printed in Commander 2015 and the sacrifice-matters element is perfectly at home in black. While it doesn’t feel green, the reward you get - +1/+1 counters on all your creatures - certainly does, and Mazirek has a solidly black-green feel as a result. And by both caring about death and growth/life, he also feels specifically Golgari - which matters as the Kraul are a Golgari insect group. Sacrifice-matters probably does play better in black-red (where red’s ability to sacrifice its own stuff lines up nicely), but it’s not massively out of place here.

Having flying (which makes sense for an Insect) but a measly 2/2 body for 5 also guides the player to imagining growing him into a massive threat through adding lots of sacrifice effects. The design is also kept light by not having Mazirek provide any inherent way of sacrificing things or making sacrifices happen - the player has to provide their own. This is pretty common for these kinds of designs, but is good because it means the rewards can be a bit juicier, as the player has to provide a sacrifice payoff, an enabler, and likely some fodder - although making your opponent sacrifice things also works!

One ding against the sacrifice trigger is that it does require players to handle a small bit of rules knowledge - specifically, identifying the “sacrifice” keyword action and understand which things are and aren’t sacrifices. And effects that make temporary tokens are annoyingly inconsistent about whether the tokens are exiled or sacrificed, which sets up a bit of a reading debt.

Power level

Fittingly for a card from a Commander precon, Mazirek is pretty potent. He can grow your team quite substantially with a few triggers, even if he doesn’t provide you an in-built way of getting them, and promises unbounded payoff. Combined with a sacrifice outlet and something with Persist can even make infinite combos, which is pretty compelling as a power option. Mazirek is technically legal in Eternal formats, but isn’t up to grade there - but that’s not a mark down on him as few cards are.

Mazirek ranks #278 on EDHREC, as the Commander of 424 decks, and as a card appears in 4% of decks on the platform. This indicates a potent and popular Commander card.

Flavour

Mazirek, as mentioned above, is the leader of the Kraul, the Golgari insect race. His card name certainly conjures up a lot of what’s going on with him - “Death Priest” is quite a title, and gets across both the death-focused aspect of the Golgari as well as the Kraul’s society - Mazirek was the leader of the Kraul race until his death in the War of the Spark storyline. His name is also fun to say - and feels quite insectile. It’s a shame that the “priest” title, which feels more like a Cleric, is not matched with his typeline, where he is a Shaman. There are plenty of green and even black-green Clerics, so this does feel like a minor ding.

Mazirek’s flavour text reinforces the “insect” thing nicely, with talks of clicks and buzz, and the very Metal “incarnation of decay”. Overall the picture of a rotten, death-feeding entity is well sold. Being empowered by death is a flavourful concept, but “sacrificing” specifically is hard to convey as a flavourful concept - it’s a bit too mechanical.

Art

Mathias Kollros’s piece revels in the black-green colour palette we’d expect from a Golgari legend, and shows the central figure suggestively in dark greens and yellow highlights, but with the details hidden by strong green-white backlighting. The posing emphasises the many additional limbs that Mazirek has over a humanoid figure, with his wings and extra legs, as well as his elevated position. Some drippy, slimy looking moss decorates his podium and the darker edges of the piece give us the sense that we’re in the Kraul’s tunnels. After adjusting to the main image we also see the eggs at the edges of the image, adding to the insect / creepy vibe for an overall very effective piece.

Note that the colour palette appears to have been significantly darkened from the original printing for the later Double Masters version for no clear reason. I think the original printing is the superior.

Place in Magic history

Other than a supporting role in the Ravnica / War of the Spark storyline, Mazirek doesn’t have much to write home about here - no particularly unique or interesting things about him.

Polukranos, Unchained

Design

From this year’s Theros: Beyond Death, we have the zombified version of Polukranos. Originally gaining infamy as Polukranos, World Eater, this hydra is now presented in a black-tinged version - our second black-green card. He starts out with square stats as a very undercosted-seeming 4-mana 6/6, before later promising to escape as a 6-mana 12/12. The “permanent damage” drawback here is something originally seen on Judgment’s Phantom creatures, which only ever lost one counter per instance of damage; the counters-per-damage version was premiered on M11′s Protean Hydra as a “heads” metaphor, and was also seen on Ugin’s Conjurant. Conjurant and Polukranos share an important improvement - they only apply the replacement effect while they actually have a +1/+1 counter, which stops them becoming invincible if you raise their toughness some other way.

As well as being a big reservoir of power and toughness, this newer version of Polukranos connects mechanically to the original by including a fight ability - and a very rare repeatable one at that. This opens up some interesting options whereby if Polukranos has shrunk too much, you can fight him off in order to have him die and then be able to escape and reset him with his final Escape ability. Polukranos has the highest card-cost for any Escape card, needing six other cards to come back - justified by his massive size upgrade when you do so.

The design overall hits some of the right notes for the established Polukranos power set - beefy and activated-ability-fighting - while adding some interesting play patterns with the Escape mechanic. It doesn’t do a great job of feeling green-black to me instead of just green however - monogreen has Escape cards and that’s all that black is really bringing to this package other than a generic multicolour power injection and the Zombie creature type. And the design is very busy, with a lot of text and moving parts that is a bit confusing to play.

Power level

While being a Limited powerhouse, Polukranos hasn’t managed to get anywhere in general constructed thanks to competing for resources with the far superior Uro, Titan of Nature’s Wrath, which is commonly played with black.

In Commander, EDHREC shows Polukranos, Unchained at rank #494 as a Commander of 170 decks, and appearing in 3% of decks. The combo with Vigor is particularly nice - you can choose to apply Vigor’s replacement effect instead of Polukranos’s own one and have him grow every time he fights instead of shrinking!

Flavour

The name is straightforward enough - and connects with the art - but not inspired. The lengthy rules text doesn’t even leave room for Escape reminder text, let alone flavour text. The character of Polukranos is of a dangerous monster that Elspeth had to defeat in the original Theros storyline as the champion of Heliod, but the new version is just “that same guy from before, only he escaped from the Underworld”.

Art

Chris Rahn is one of Magic’s most notable current artists, with a great ability to render detailed fantasy images with beautiful details. The purple-and-grayish hues of the underworld are used here to show the location, and nicely we see the upper purple head of Polukranos blending with the beautiful night sky.

And those purple heads are shown coming from the same root - I believe they are actually regrowing at the time of the art! There are a lot of nice visual indicators of this - a pinkish glow showing where the stump was, the purplish colour of the two new heads, and the fact that those are a little smaller than the other four. The new heads both have collars on so I imagine these are magical collars designed for a hydra - but the art also shows that the chains weren’t strong enough, as the name tells us. A close look shows a loose chain breaking a statue in the foreground - and the other foreground figures help sell the size of the monstrous creature in front of us. The overall mood is “Oh s***, the monster has got loose!”.

Place in Magic history

We have a minor storyline character here and the card has no particular resonance or important part to play, so not looking at a whole lot here.

Final verdict

Mazirek, Kraul Death Priest

Design - 7/10 Power level - 4/5 Flavour - 3/5 Art - 5/5 Place in Magic history - 2/5 TOTAL - 21/30

Polukranos, Unchained

Design - 6/10 Power level - 3/5 Flavour - 2/5 Art - 4/5 Place in Magic history - 2/5 TOTAL - 17/30

Good luck to Mazirek, Kraul Death Priest in Round 3!

#mtg #magic the gathering #mtgbracket #tournamentofchampions #magic bracket tiebreaker

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in-tua-deep · 5 years

Note

How would Ravenclaw! Klaus react to the ghosts in Hogwarts? Like, would he ignore them until he realizes everyone else can see them? Does he discover that he can make ghosts corporeal and/or levitation and telekinesis now that he's not on drugs? Does he accidentally talk to a ghost that no one else can see, like the ghost of a muggle, and everyone thinks he's crazy? Basically, what are your Klaus headcannons for your HP AU? (Sorry if this was too long, I've just been thinking about this alot.)

asdfFGDH no worries - I also like the idea of Ravenclaw!Klaus but for the purpose of this au he is a baby Slytherin bless his heart

okay okay okay

So the thing is, while the kids stay at the school for winter break and that’s fine, they have to go somewhere for the summer. Headmistress McGonagall took them for the remainder of the summer before they went into their first year, yeah, but she wasn’t exactly planning on housing seven magical kids. She was just the best bet to transfigure them seven beds (can you say bunk beds?) as a temporary measure

The summer between first and second year they end up with the Weasleys who have an empty nest after Ginny moved out. They have room for seven magical kids at least, even if they kind of tiptoe around one another and it’s kind of an awkward placing

Molly Weasley is very physically affectionate and loud. The kids are very used to violence and getting yelled at so this is not a fantastic combination. Five thinks Arthur Weasley is an idiot of the highest degree after several questions regarding muggle things (and the other won’t say it but they’re kind of thinking it as well) not to mention their general wariness of male parental or authority figures.

Diego volunteers to cook with Mrs. Weasley and likes it but then immediately feels guilty because that’s something he did with Grace and he misses her so he swings wildly between liking Mrs. Weasley and hating her for not being Grace and then feeling guilty for liking her AND guilty for hating her and it’s a vicious cycle

Luther still resents the fact that they can’t go home, even if he’s starting to clue in to the fact that the way Reginald treated them was way beyond not normal and that he’s actually way safer than he’s ever been before? It’s weird and he feels guilty for what he perceives as disloyalty for enjoying himself and having fun and so he’s kind of moody like Diego is

(this combination is somewhat explosive oops. at least they don’t share a room unlike they did at McGonagall’s place)

now this is a somewhat long winded way of saying that during the summer, the Weasley kids do come and visit their mother of course! And, one fateful day, one half of a matched pair shows up to cheerfully cause chaos. George Weasley comes home with a big smile and free samples from the shop to distribute among the little kiddies under his parents roof - have to keep them on their toes after all!

And Klaus sees ghosts. Which, if you said this to any wizard or witch, they would nod and tell you that they also see ghosts! Except Klaus sees more than the ones like Nearly Headless Nick and the Bloody Baron. He sees souls that are only wispily tied to the world, who haven’t had time to solidify their presence. Who follow behind their family.

Now, Klaus doesn’t mention this. It’s not normal, after all, and all of the Hargreeves have agreed to keep their... extra issues under wraps in case the grown ups decide to return them or something, or decide they aren’t magic after all, or whatever. They’re eleven going on twelve they’re allowed to be afraid.

So Klaus doesn’t mention anything when the red headed man comes in followed by an identical (albeit slightly younger) man. Klaus only cottons onto the fact that this man is a ghost because Molly Weasley introduces George to them and not the other one. No one notices the other one. And they’ve seen pictures, they know that there used to be Fred-and-George until the war happened and then there was only-George.

(related: Klaus is actually very happy with the wizarding world ghosts and also very pissed off about them. On the bright side, the killing curse leaves no visible wounds! So there’s not as many incredibly disturbing traumatizing ghosts to look at! Downside here is that Klaus cannot tell if a ghost is a ghost. Unless they’re wearing fancy ass historical period clothes :/

Klaus memorizes pretty much all the years students out of sheer self defense. If there someone who Klaus knows Is Not a Student, he just quietly asks the nearest sibling who is In The Know about his powers

He gets anxious when they’re out in like, hogsmeade or diagon alley though, or when there are a lot of strangers. his general rule of thumb is to only interact with people his siblings interact with, or people who he touches first. He’s perfected the ‘accidental bump’ move thank you

The other sibs are all very accommodating because if Klaus’s secret gets out, then all their secrets get out)

Anyway so Klaus’s modus opperandi is to ignore ignore ignore! Usually if ghosts don’t realize he can see them, they leave him alone. Unfortunately, Klaus is sharing Fred-and-George’s old room with Ben (they organized themselves this way so that Ben can wake Klaus up when he has nightmares)

and Fred floats up to reminisce while Klaus is in there and Klaus would ignore him except he keeps making comments and looking sad and just UGH and he’s lurking in front of the door and Klaus can’t just walk through him to leave. That’s weird and gross. So eventually, eventually, Klaus snaps at him “Can you please move?”

and he’s tired and he had nightmares last night (he can’t just ask Five to carve the good dream runes into some random lady’s son’s bed) and he just wants to go downstairs okay?? and he’s not thinking about it and the guy looks young and friendly and almost alive and it just slips out

and Fred stands there in shock for a solid second before finally whispering a simple - “You can see me?”

and this is a mistake

Fred tries to convince Klaus so hard to tell George and to pass messages and and and - he’s just so excited! He’s been following George around, watching him wallow in grief and watching his family wallow in grief and he’d thought that ghosts were just. Ghosts. He didn’t realize it was even possible, this invisible existence. He’s been silent for so long

But Klaus is a traumatized eleven year old okay he is Not About Any of This

eventually Fred gets it into his head that he’s freaking the kid out and softens, because Fred’s always been pretty good with kids anyway. He listens when Klaus haltingly explains why no one can know and then kind of hedges, because Fred is really nice, so he makes a deal

He’ll tell George about Fred, but only when he’s 17 and a legal adult in wizarding society with no chance of being sent back into Reginald’s grasp. Fred thinks this is stupid, but he’s waited fourish years already and didn’t expect to have any chance so (and Klaus is very adamant about keeping away from his ex-Dad and Fred knows there’s a reason)

anyway Fred follows Klaus when he goes back to Hogwarts to start second year. Well, kind of. He splits time between the shop/lurking after George and then going to bug Klaus. Klaus is very resistant to this at first, because if the other ghosts realize he can talk to Fred, then they’ll want to talk to him.

Fred fixes it though by basically just going around (because Fred is still legendary and his pranks are to be feared and all the ghosts in Hogwarts uniforms with haunted eyes that fell defending their school know that) and warning them off. He takes requests and messages and passes them to Klaus to write down in a notebook to be distributed when Klaus hits 17 - so Klaus isn’t bothered by any ghosts

besides being bros with Fred is actually a very excellent thing to be because Fred knows everything about the school. He knows all the secret passageways and all the trick steps and trap doors and empty rooms. He mentions missing having a map in passing, but tells Klaus it would have been so much cooler to have an invisible ghost to scout ahead and warn them about professors or anyone coming

Klaus doesn’t keep Fred secret from the others, so the whole family gets to benefit from Fred’s vast knowledge

(Klaus’s written test grades increase, to the bafflement of his professors - it certainly helps having a ghost to help you cheat!

none of the family are above cheating tbh, they are all very wary of the concept of failure in general and are willing to do a lot to avoid becoming acquainted with the consequences of failing)

Klaus probably figures out making ghosts corporeal when he’s hmm. 15? There is. a lot of drama in Klaus’s fifth year and it’s stressful and there is an Incident where Fred going corporeal saves Klaus’s life

(Fred helps out a lot in Klaus’s fifth year, actually, the kids would probably be in serious trouble without him)

anyway this sparks another freak out where Fred says they HAVE to tell George - because this changes everything!! They fight and don’t speak for like two entire weeks before Fred comes back and grudgingly apologizes. After so long hanging around the Hargreeves, he knows very well that they were Super Fucking Abused and are fearful of being returned for Good Reason

so Fred gets to be the one that Klaus practices with and figure out corporeal ghost stuff with

I’m going to say no levitation/telekinesis in this au (pending the results of season two maybe?) but I will say that the first year flying class? Klaus fucking excels. You think about Klaus on a broom and it should be a disaster, but Klaus is the best flyer in Hogwarts, he treats the broom almost as an extension of himself

Slytherin keeps trying to recruit him onto the quidditch team but Klaus always laughs it off saying that he’s not a jock - also his flying skills do not translate into catching/throwing skills thanks. He’s graceful as all fuck but if you try throw him a quaffle or whatever, he will drop it

i feel like it should be noted that with all seven of them, the Hargreeves could form their own quidditch team lmao

But yeah to sum up, Klaus ignores ghosts (his housemates tease him about being scared of ghosts and he laughs them off), he does discover his ability to make ghosts corporeal due to no drugs, no levitation/telekinesis, he can absolutely see ghosts that wizards can’t see (and not every wizard/witch who dies becomes the wizarding version of a ghost), and I have headcanons about Klaus being very good on a broom lmao

#ask me #anonymous #hogwarts au #tua au #tua/hp crossover #the umbrella academy #klaus hargreeves #fred weasley #the weasleys #luther hargreeves #diego hargreeves #ben hargreeves #my usual rambling to get to the point #long post #in tua deep

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baeklination · 4 years

Text

구름 도시 (Cloud City) pt.1

Warnings/Contains: None really. Some light cursing. General talk about the case, but nothing explicit.

au: members of the justice system

Characters: Baekhyun, Kai, Suho, Sehun

WC:3400

Date:200523

Masterpost Part 2

¤¤¤

APRIL 17th

Jun-myeon poked his head out of his office.

“Byun, we’ve got a girl reported missing, go talk to her parents will you?”

Baek-hyun grabbed the holster from his chair, out of habit more than anything

“How old?”

“She’s twenty-six, Cho Min-young, lives in Hammer Hill. Her parents are waiting”

Baek-hyun slowed down and raised an eyebrow at his boss.

“Jun, you know I’m not a star case- guy, but a missing twenty-six year-old..? I thought you meant a kid. She’s probably at a boyfriend's house-”

“Nope”

“Girlfriend then-”

“They’ve called everyone they can think of, and she didn’t show up for work this morning. Come on, Byun, as a favour; it’ll be in and out. Take the new guy with you, show him how the pro’s do it”. Jun-myeon shot a wide smile at him, knowing he’d won Baek-hyun over.

In the middle of the stations commotion sat a young detective, trying his best to look as if he hadn’t overheard the conversation between Baek-hyun and the lieutenant, but he felt like a kid waiting for his fun uncle to collect him.

“Come on, Jong-in, you heard the boss”, Baek-hyun said, approaching him. “Is it alright if we drop the honorifics, can I speak informally to you?”

“Yes, it’s okay, Mr.Byun, you can speak informally.” Jong-in nodded with a slightly nervous smile.

“We, Jong-in. We speak informally. No mr, hyung, or nim, please.”

Having reached the car, Baek-hyun waited for Jong-in’s reaction( although if anyone asked, he’d never admit to such vanity).

“Shit, this is your car? It’s a beauty!”, Jong-in exclaimed when he realized what ride was theirs. “You’re in to the classics?”

Baek-hyun chuckled and feigned embarrassment.

“Yeah, this is my Old Betty”, but the charade only lasted a moment. “70’s Coupe Deville - Cadillac, obviously. My father brought it back from the States in the 80’s”. Seeing the question on Jong-in’s face Baek-hyun continued “He went to college over there, and saw this darling; dirt cheap if you ask him - a prettier penny than that if you ask my mother. He retired it a while back, and let me buy it. Actually, he would never let me buy it - I’ve been paying for their weekly grocery shopping without him knowing for the past two years now” he laughed, and Jong-in, now more relaxed, rolled his eyes in a I-know-the-type-way. Reaching in and popping the hood he gestured for Jong-in to follow him.

“See” he pointed to the machinery “the engine was alright, but I know a mechanic, so I had it fitted with a V8, and the normal updates; better versions of things they had in the original. I know, I know, the original is the soul and all that - but I don’t want my girl going bust when I’m doing 110 on the highway chasing bad guys, you know”. Jong-in nodded, but this part was beyond him. “Now she’s got 600 HP and manages 130 km and hour, easy”, Baek-hyun shamelessly bragged as they got in the car. It wasn’t any wonder really, the car was in top condition; the body a dark, almost black, brown, grill and hubcaps gleaming like they were newly polished, and the inside a creamy dream of tan leather and red details.

“So, do you also have a classic?”, Baek-hyun’s eyes were shining with anticipation. Jong-in might’ve opened a Pandora’s box here, and he didn’t want to make a bad impression on their first day together, but decided that honesty was always the best route.

“No, I wish..! If I knew anything about cars then maybe I could buy an oldie, fix it up myself, you know, but I’ve never been good at cars. And buying one in good condition…”, he sighed.

Baek-hyun whistled “Hell, I couldn’t afford that, and I’m a couple of pay grades above you..!”.

“Yeah, and with my kid, I think it’s better to save than splurge. Our Honda runs good enough.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you have a kid. Boy or girl? Give me the deets.”

“Girl, Yong-sun. She’s eight months old, home with mommy - my girlfriend. We’ve been together seven years”, Jong-in said, almost stumbling over the last part, in case Baek-hyun would find it improper that he had a child before getting married.

“That long..! Congrats man, then you know it’s tried, tested and true”, Baek-hyun said, calming Jong-in’s nerves. Driving out of the garage he changed tone to a serious, albeit still relaxed, one “So, what d’you think; girl really missing or just out of reach? Pitch me some scenarios, rookie.”

¤¤¤

Having parked on the side of the street, Baek-hyun stepped out and surveyed the area for a while. Hammer Hill was a nice neighbourhood; not the highest echelons of society, but definitely upper middle-class.

“Pretty nice place for a single twenty-something to live in, no?”

“Pretty nice for anyone”, Jong-in replied. “But those online stars make a lot of money, you know”.

“This much?” Baek-hyun frowned in disbelief. “You think she’s doing something on the side? Catering to a different audience, so to speak? Wouldn’t be the first time”, Baek-hyun sighed, while he started up the stairs. Jong-in, not wanting to offend anyone, erred on the side of caution

“I don’t know, anything is possible. But making this much money in a…” he hesitated “...pure way is also possible”.

“First lesson passed, rookie: avoid jumping to stereotypical conclusions”, Baek-hyun said with a dunk on Jong-in’s back, as they walked up to the door. After ringing the doorbell Baek-hyun turned to Jong-in and hurriedly said:

“But don’t mention prostitution to her parents, okay? Don’t say anything to alarm them further. We want them to remain calm, so they don’t forget to mention anything. Besides, she’ll probably pop up in the next day or so. Just try to...get a feel for the situation. You’ll be doing a lot of these house calls, trust me”.

The door was opened by Min-young’s mother, a woman in her fifties, without any especially distinguishing features, except for the worry in her eyes.

“Mrs. Cho, I’m detective Byu-”

“Oh, finally, thank god, come in”, Mrs. Cho exclaimed with relief, and moved so they could go in. “I apologize, it’s a mess, but I didn’t want to touch anything in case…” her voice faded. She ushered Baek-hyun and Jong-in to the living-room, where an older man - presumably Mr.Cho - and a younger man stood up to great the detectives. Baek-hyun gave it another try.

“Good afternoon, Sir, I’m detective Byun, this is my colleague detective Kim”, he said and took the man’s hand with a warm smile “you must be Mr. Cho”.

“Detective Byun, Kim”, Mr. Cho said with a short nod to them “Thank you for coming.” Gesturing to the young man he continued “this is Oh Sehun, Min-young’s friend”. They exchanged remaining pleasantries and sat down.

“So, tell us, what’s going on; the lieutenant said you haven’t heard from Min-young - is it okay if I call her Min-young?” he interjected, remembering his manners. After getting the okay from Mr. and Mrs. Cho he continued “So, still nothing new from Min-young since...yesterday evening, was it? Tell us what happened”. Mrs. Cho, with a slight tremble in her voice started

“Well, it wasn’t anything special yesterday, really. It’s not that we had plans and she didn’t show up. But I tried calling her in the evening, but she didn’t pick up the phone. We tried calling a couple of times, but when it got late we figured maybe she was just really busy, and decided to wait until the morning.”

“But she hasn’t picked up today either”, Mr. Cho chimed in. “I tried calling at eight thirty, right before she goes to work, but she didn’t answer, so I tried her office...nothing. They still haven’t heard from her” he said, holding his palms up. Baek-hyun sensed Mr. Cho was more perplexed than scared, which would be helpful in locating her, as opposed to Mrs. Cho, who might overlook something because of the stress she clearly was under.

“Excuse me”, Jong-in said in a low voice, and the whole company looked at him with surprise, almost having forgotten about his presence. “You said she went to her office; wasn’t she a social media personality? She didn’t work from home?”

Good catch, Baek-hyun thought.

“Oh, no. She used to, but she felt a bit cooped up working from home, so she moved to a small office space in Rolling Hills; in the Gigamex complex.”

Baek-hyun let Jong-in take the lead, try his wings, so to speak, and focused more on scribbling down names and dates in his police issued notepad (he found that it made people feel as if he really listened if he used pen and paper instead of some smart device). This also gave him the opportunity to gauge their reactions to any questions, to make sure they were on the up-and-up. And what of this Sehun character? Up until now he’d been quiet, only a few nods and nervous hands clasped together. Interrupting his train of thought, Jong-in continued

“And who was it you talked to at the office?”

“Michelle. We don’t know her last name, but she’s Min-young’s assistant, she helps her with editing and her calendar, I think”. One could tell that world wasn’t Mr. Cho’s arena, but he was close enough with his daughter to have heard a bit about it. Mrs. Cho picked up her mobile, and after a few scrolls held it out for Baek-hyun to copy

“Here. This is her number. She couldn’t say much, but if you want to talk to her...” Baek-hyun received it with a barely distinguishable bow and took her number down.

“Do you know if anyone was...less than nice to her online? Did she ever mention anything specific?” Jong-in knew the price of putting yourself out there often was people being rude, nasty, or worse, so he wanted to make sure he covered at least some of the bases. And to be honest, as distasteful as it may sound it was exhilarating; his first interview in the field. And he seemed to know a thing or two more than Baek-hyun about this topic, so he got to shine a little. But her parents were adamant about her job not being an issue here.

“Her channel is about arts and crafts, making things from scratch, baking and those kinds of things. The people who write her are kind. Sure, there are a some rude people, but most of them are so sweet”, Mrs. Cho said.

“What about a boyfriend, was she seeing anybody?”, Baek-hyun asked and looked at Sehun, as did her parents “Are you..?”

For the first time Sehun let go of his hands, and waved no.

“No, no. We’ve been friends since middle school, she’s like my sister. And jogging buddy. We go running a couple days a week, have dinner or coffee after. We were supposed to go yesterday evening, but she cancelled”, Sehun explained.

“When was that?” Baek-hyun recognized the sign of voluntary M.I.A. Sehun unlocked his phone and showed the caller log to Baek-hyun “17.12. We usually meet up around five thirty, so it’s odd that she cancelled with such little notice”.

“Did she say why, or sound different in any way?”

“No. She said it wasn’t anything special, she just had something to do. But when I asked her again she wouldn’t say. I was kinda annoyed, but now...” Sehun shrugged his shoulders and looked so hopeless he almost made Baek-hyun think something had happened to Min-young. But being the veteran he was he knew the majority of these cases ended happily - a lost phone, a drunken night, or a secret boyfriend - so he composed himself and gave them a smile.

“I know you’re all very worried right now, but trust me when I say we get a lot of calls like these, and it almost always ends up being some kind of misunderstanding. But we’ll follow up on these tips you’ve given us when we get back to the station, of course. Could we just have a quick look around the apartment, to see if anything seems amiss?”

¤¤¤

Having seen nothing suspicious in Min-young’s apartment they assured the Cho’s that they would call them the next day, and said their goodbyes.

“You did good up there, Jong-in”, Baek-hyun complimented his partner for the day. “What are your thoughts?”

“Thank you, Byu-Baek-hyun” Jong-in stuttered, making Bae-hyun laugh.”I feel bad for them. But like you said, they almost always come back. So...do we talk to her assistant, get phone records from Min-young’s cell provider?”

“Phone records takes more than...” Baek-hyun looked at his watch “than the two hours we have left. Let’s call the assistant, and you can run down locations of CCTV in the area”.

“To see when she left the apartment and which way she went…”

“We’ll take a closer look tomorrow morning if she’s still not back. So her friend, Oh Sehun…” Baek-hyun let the question hang in the air.

“Yeah. Do you usually see friends joining this early? He’s probably telling the truth, but…”

“But..?” Baek-hyun echoed for Jong-in to continue.

“Well, he was the last one to talk to her. And did she really not say anything to him?”

“Exactly. I don’t think he’s hurt her, but it’s possible - likely even - that he might know more than he’s telling. Remember what I said about catering to a different audience? Let’s do a quick background check and talk to him tomorrow. Maybe he’ll be more open when the girl’s parents aren’t around.”

Back at the station Jong-in started working on the CCTV footage while Baek-hyun went to update Jun-myeon.

“Hey, boss...”, he knocked on the frosted glass window, but didn’t wait for a reply before he opened the door. Jun-myeon was on the phone, but gestured for Baek-hyun to come in.

“...twisted baguettes, not ordinary ones, got it. Bye, love” he said, hung up and shared one of his life lessons with Baek-hyun “happy wife, happy life. Now, how’d it go?” Baek-hyun ran his fingers through his hair and sighed.

“As expected, I’d say. They were worried, but it hasn’t been that long. We’re gonna run down some leads they gave us before calling it a day”.

“Okay, sounds good. And Jong-in?”

“Yeah, he did good, boss. And he likes my girl”, Baek-hyun smiled.

“Ah, Byun-ah..!”, Jun-myeon exclaimed “That’s why you like him, ‘cus he likes your car..!”

Baek-hyun choked a smile “No, he’s good, honestly. But why does he get to be “Jong-in” while I’m still my surname?”, he asked, raising an eyebrow. Jun-myeon countered by raising both brows.

“Because I don’t want nine guys in my office every time I ask for Kim, is why he’s “Jong-in”...”. Baek-hyun clicked his tongue and pointed at Jun-myeon.

“Got it. Well, I’m gonna do some digging with the time I’ve got left”, he said and stood up.

“You’re a star player, Byun. Fighting!”, Jun-myeon said jokingly as Baek-hyun closed the door.

¤¤¤

Baek-hyun and Jong-in had punched out after checking off their list. There wasn’t much to see, really; the assistant, Michelle, hadn’t seen Min-young so she couldn’t offer much assistance, ironically enough. And as far as Sehun goes, he seemed to be harmless; no citations, no odd-ball photos or rants on the internet...just a guy. Nonetheless, Baek-hyun had begun to feel a touch uneasy about the whole thing, so after shutting the engine off in the driveway he called the precinct and asked the officer on the night shift to send a request for Min-young’s phone records.

Better safe than sorry, he said to himself. Locking the car door was his queue to give his work mind a rest, and it wasn’t hard to do when he saw the note on his front door: 17.25 You have a houseguest, B!(Cover shift) It was signed with a winking smiley inside the O of the name “Veró”. Baek-hyun chuckled, spirits lifted. He had barely opened the door before a little corgi was upon him, tap-dancing around his feet with bright eyes. Baek-hyun put his blazer on a valet stand and bent down to greet his guest.

“Well, hi there, Mongi..! What are you doing here?” he said while playfully wrestling with the dog “Did you tell mommy to drop you of at the fun house?” He looked at his watch; an hour ago. “We might as well go out now, nugget. And then it’s dinner for the both of us - I’m famished!”.

With his parents living a couple of hours away, having Veró and Mongi was a real blessing to him. It’s not every day you meet someone you’re almost a hundred percent comfortable with; may it be in silence, changing clothes, physical interaction, crying or ugly laughing. Veró (short for Verónica) had moved in next door almost three years ago, and they instantly hit it off. Well, it wasn’t the right hit at first. They had dated for about four months when they both realized that they weren’t lovers’ material. The reason they felt exceedingly comfortable with each other was because they were best friends. They called it quits on the romantic part and now hung out as just friends; dinners, talks through the night, even sleepovers - and of course the semi-shared custody of Veró’s dog Mongi. Baek-hyun had fallen in love with him the first time he saw him, and insisted she name him Mongryong, but Veró was dead set on “Miguel”, a latin singer, or “the sun of Mexico” as she called him. They ended up having a marathon of games and soju to decide who would get the honours, and to Veró’s dismay Baek-hyun won, and the rest is history.

Since Veró left so late he knew she was covering for someone from the night shift and therefore didn’t expect her to be back until early morning at best, so after dinner they both curled up in bed: Mongi with a bone and Baek-hyun with the latest issue of Journal of Forensic Sciences.

“The things they can find out with forensics these days, Mongi, I tell ya...” Baek-hyun sighed, and Mongi looked at him, breathing heavily from his ferocious battle with the bone. “That’s right, pay attention, so you don’t go out in the streets acting like a fool.” He put the magazine on the nightstand as well as taking off his t-shirt before turning off the light - the queue for Mongi to curl up in the crook of Baek-hyun’s knees.

“Good night, nugget.”

APRIL 18th

Baek-hyun was the quintessential morning person, so when the alarm went off at 06.00 he immediately got up. The same could not be said about Mongi.

“Rise and shine, Mongi. Time to do some laps”, Baek-hyun cooed while putting on his sweats. But it would take the sound of food being prepared for Mongi to bounce out in to the kitchen.

“You try it every time, and I tell you every time: walk, then food.”

The air was chilly, a typical late spring morning, and there was an overcast hinting rain would come before long. He may not look it, but the dog was a top runner, so Baek-hyun could jog at a pace that made his heart rate go up a few notches, all the way down to the river, about twenty minutes away. He stopped by a drinking fountain, giving Mongi a few palms of water and splashed his face and water-combed his hair back. The clouds had lifted by the horizon, and the sunrise stained the clouds a yellowy apricot and Baek-hyun took it all in; these precious still and silent mornings were the favourite part of his day. He felt a tug on the leash, so he snapped out of it and they started back home for breakfast and a shower.

He wrapped a towel around his waist, draped a second one over his shoulders and made his way to the kitchen. A lot of Baek-hyun’s colleagues ate at work, but he preferred to have a quiet breakfast at home before all the hustle and bustle, so he sat down with his cup of black coffee and rye porridge. He was halfway through his meal when his phone rang, so his slippered feet shuffled to the bedroom:

“A call this early is never good, boss.” He sat down on the bed with a sinking feeling.

“Sorry, Byun. We’ve got a body, female. Under Pioneer’s Bridge. She hasn’t been identified, but…” Jun-myeon paused.

“You think it might be her.”

#baekhyun #baekhyun crime story #kai #jongin crime story #exo fanfic

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soror-o-n-s · 4 years

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Why Liber Resh is so Important

As I wrote in this post, I recently started doing Liber Resh again and realized how potent and important of a ritual it really is. I said I’d write up a post on that, and here it is.

What is Liber Resh?

First of all, if you’re new to all of this, or through some circumstance don’t know what Resh is, here is the text of Liber Resh. It consists of four solar adorations meant to be performed at the four stations of the sun throughout the day.

How do you do Liber Resh?

The actual text of the ritual is pretty short, and without some involvement with the Thelemic community, membership in the A.’.A.’., or some extra research, is not really workable. If you were a member of the A.’.A.’. you would use your grade sign at all four stations, and would learn the adoration from your superior. Most people however are not members of the A.’.A.’. for one reason or another, and a set of informal, often word of mouth, instructions have developed. So for all of us outside the fold, the signs customarily used are:

Sunrise: L.V.X signs

Noon: Sign of Fire

Sunset: Sign of Air

Midnight: Sign of Water

For the adoration, many people use Liber AL III:37 starting from, “Unity uttermost showed! . . .” I personally like to also include the previous stanza starting with, “I am the Lord of Thebes . . . “ as well.

You’ll find another dilemma if you spend enough time reading about this or hanging around other Thelemites as to whether to say “fill me” or “kill me” at the end of the third stanza. You can read Hymenaeus Beta’s case for correcting that word here. Many people will strongly prefer one or the other, and have valid reasons for their choice. I personally use “kill” here since I like the meaning it brings to the adoration, but there really isn’t a right or wrong answer. If you’re not sure which you prefer, try it both ways and see how you feel about it.

If this doesn’t do it for you, there’s also no reason why you couldn’t also write your own adorations, as Crowley put it in Liber O : “These rituals need not be slavishly imitated; on the contrary the student should do nothing the object of which he does not understand; also, if he have any capacity whatever, he will find his own crude rituals more effective than the highly polished ones of other people.” I personally would recommend trying it the more official way and to make sure that you really understand the meaning and reason for the way the original is composed before rewriting it though. Not only will that help make sure you’re getting out of it what was intended, but also that you’ll be familiar enough with it that if you ever end up practicing it in a group you won’t have to embarrassingly stumble through it.

Why do Liber Resh?

So now I’ve covered how to practice Resh, why should you practice Resh? It seems kind of silly to worship the sun in the modern age when we have things like astronomy and physics to explain what it is and how it works; and the timing is really inconvenient for someone with other things on their plate (or who like to maintain a normal sleep schedule). The reason I hadn’t done it in so long was because it just seemed like an arbitrary way to remind yourself of the Work and to work some bhakti into your day. I figured, I’m already thinking about the Work pretty regularly, the rest of my practice and study takes care of that, and I could just pray and meditate like a normal person instead of worshipping the Sun.

First off, let’s talk about the Sun. The Sun’s pretty sweet. Its gravity holds our entire solar system together. Without it all of these cool planets would go careening off into space and end up who knows where. The light and heat we get from the Sun makes all life on Earth possible. The Earth’s seasons are dependent on the Sun. The very atoms that make up your body were all birthed in stars just like the Sun. Compared to the span of a human life, or even generations of humans, the Sun is practically eternal.

Do you see where I’m going with this? The Sun is practically a God. I know it sounds silly, but the Sun gives us life, keeps us warm, fuels the food that keeps our bodies running. It controls our seasons and weather. The Sun creates the heavier elements that makes the very existence of things like the Earth possible. It was here long before the first humans appeared, and will likely be here long after the last human has died. Better yet, unlike the conventional gods we’re used to today, we can see it, feel it, and measure its relationship with our world. That’s pretty cool, and in my opinion, definitely worthy of celebrating and adoring. No wonder the ancients pretty much universally worshipped the Sun.

Now let’s talk about what the Sun represents. The Sun is the alchemical gold, the perfection of matter on every level. It corresponds to the Sephirah of Tiphareth, the sphere of the Holy Guardian Angel and the accomplishment of the great work. In this sense, the Sun represents the ultimate goal of magick. Your adorations at each of its stations are adorations to your HGA, and a reminder of the highest goal.

In practicing Resh though you’re doing more than just adoring the Sun, you’re identifying with the Sun. According to Crowley’s instructions, “Also it is better if in these adorations thou assume the God-form of Whom thou adorest, as if thou didst unite with Him in the adoration of That which is beyond Him.” You’re meant to be assuming the Godforms of each adoration. To expand on what I said in the above paragraph about adoring your HGA, your adorations are to your highest self, and when you practice Resh you’re identifying with that. One of the first verses of Liber AL is: “Every man and every woman is a star.” And this ritual is in one way a representation of that truth.

There’s also another layer that’s hinted at with the name of the ritual. Resh corresponds with the path between Hod and Yesod on the tree of life, which is associated with The Sun card in the Tarot. To quote from The Book of Thoth:

“This is one of the simplest of the cards; it represents Heru-ra-ha, the Lord of the New Aeon, in his manifestation to the race of men as the Sun spiritual, moral, and physical. He is the Lord of Light, Life, Liberty and Love. This Aeon has for its purpose the complete emancipation of the human race”

“Outside the wall are the twin children who . . . represent the next stage that is to be attained by mankind, in which complete freedom is alike the cause and the result of the new access of solar energy upon the earth. The restriction of such ideas as sin and death in their old sense has been abolished.”

Aside from just reminding yourself of the Great Work and affirming your existence as an eternal star not unlike the Sun, this ritual is also bringing you into alignment with the current of the New Aeon. It’s an affirmation of the law of do what thou Wilt, of your eternal freedom and innocence, and that the times of restriction and the dying god are at an end. Through the formation of a relationship and identification with the star in the center of our solar system, you’re cultivating your relationship with the Aeon and with the Hawk-headed mystical Lord on the throne of Ra.

Resh does so much more than what the text of the ritual might suggest. I would argue that it’s one of the most important daily practices that Crowley wrote, and it’s amazing how understated it is. This is just my understanding of the ritual as well. In practice, each person’s going to have a different experience and come to different conclusions. In my opinion, it’s likely intentionally vague, and there’s likely much more to it than what I’ve said here.

#thelema #liber resh #aleister crowley #magick

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racingtoaredlight · 4 years

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RTARL’s 2020 NFL Season Week 11 Extravapalooza

Holy moly, we’ve already made it to Week 11. I’m honestly conflicted over whether or not this is a good thing. In terms of basic pandemic mitigation practices, the NFL conducting its season is fucking insane. These guys are all well-compensated pros, but they’re still taking risks well above and beyond what they normally do, and I truly feel pretty shitty about that. In addition, the fact that some stadiums are allowing thousands of fans inside during games is a crime against humanity, and it really lays bare how craven and sociopathic the ghouls who own sports franchises are.

With that said, it’s extremely hypocritical of me to be so disdainful of the NFL’s current existence, since I watch the games, set my fantasy lineup, and generally enjoy all the stuff that comes with an NFL season. I usually bristle and roll my eyes whenever a sporting entity trots out the whole “We feel like we’re helping society by providing a distraction from everything going on” line, but in this case, with where we are right now as a country...the NFL really is doing that. For me, anyway. Is the stress-relief that the NFL provides to me and millions of other people worth all the bad stuff that comes with it? I don’t know. Probably not. But, I’d be lying if I said I’m not thankful that it’s there.

My picks are in BOLD, and the lines come to us courtesy of our friends at Vegas Insider. I use the “VI Consensus” line, which is the line that occurs most frequently across Vegas Insider’s list of sportsbooks. Your sportsbook of choice may offer a different number, and if you’d like my opinion on said number A) you are insane, and B) leave a comment below and I’ll try to answer at some point before things kickoff today.

EARLY GAMES

Tennessee Titans at Baltimore Ravens (-6)

It’s odd to have a game between a pair of 6-3 teams widely considered contenders that feels like a “must win” for each scuffling side. A great man once said “Desperation is a stinky cologne,” and the Titans absolutely reek coming into this one, so I’m giving them the edge. Baltimore being down two starting defensive linemen when Derrick Henry comes to town also factors into my pick, but nobody wants to hear that nerd shit, gotta go with my GUT, baby!

Philadelphia Eagles at Cleveland Browns (-2.5)

Hey, Cleveland doesn’t have to play in the middle of a tornado this week! There will still be driving rains, though. Fortunately, the Browns are built for the slop. RBs Nick Chubb and Kareem Hunt are both ridiculous, but I’d like to give a special shoutout to G Wyatt Teller, who is currently Pro Football Focus’ highest-graded player...in the entire NFL. That’s some grade A beef! DE and straight-up superhuman Myles Garrett is out for this one, which is an enormous blow for the Cleveland defense. If I had any confidence whatsoever in Carson Wentz I’d think about taking Philly, but that young man is a mess.

Pittsburgh Steelers (-10.5) at Jacksonville Jaguars

I’m once again betting on the Steelers playing down to the level of their competition. The Jags kept things close against the Packers last week, there’s fight in them thar cats.

Cincinnati Bengals at Washington Football Team (-1.5)

I’m still extremely nervous for Alex Smith the entire time he’s on the field, but I have to admit there’s something magical about him making it all the way back to being exactly as Alex Smith-y as he was before (minus the scrambling ability, obviously). Washington RB J.D. McKissic has 16(!) catches on 29(!!) targets over the two games Smith has started. If this continues J.D. is going to owe Alex a cut of his next contract, and possibly the mineral rights to his legs if the need arises.

Today is Cincy RB Gio Bernard’s birthday, so LOOK OUT LADIES!

Atlanta Falcons at New Orleans Saints (-3.5)

I’m making this pick based on the assumption that New Orleans really does roll with Taysom Hill at QB for the entire game, because that’s what all currently available information indicates will happen. I really do wonder if that’s going to be the case, though. I’ve read a couple of things speculating that the reason Hill is starting is that if Jameis plays he’s likely to reach various incentive clauses in his contract and cost the Saints a bunch of money. That seems utterly ridiculous to me, because why the hell would you bother signing him at all if this is how you were gonna roll? Then again, I’m not a Football Man, so maybe my un-browned normie brain just doesn’t understand.

Detroit Lions (-3) at Carolina Panthers

CATFIGHT!!!

The Lions are the orange kitty in this scenario, because Matthew Stafford will be playing through a torn thumb while not having WR Kenny Golladay or RB D’Andre Swift at his disposal.

New England Patriots (-2) at Houston Texans

The concept of an “emotional hedge,” first introduced to me by RTARL commenter Beer, is in play here. I have NO idea if the Patriots are actually decent or not, and this has all the makings of a letdown game coming off of their unexpected win over Baltimore. Reigning Defensive Player of the Year Stephon Gilmore is expected to be back for the Pats in this one, which is very nice. RB Sony Michel is also likely coming back, which could muddy the backfield and take touches away from Damien Harris, which is less nice.

The Patriots have an atrocious rush defense, but Houston’s primary RB, Duke Johnson, is far better as a receiver than as a straight-up runner, so I’m not sure they can take advantage all that much. In addition, Duke’s receiving skills are mostly squandered because QB DeShaun Watson hates checking down and seemingly prefers to take sacks while looking for throws downfield instead. Wait, why the hell am I picking Houston here??? Is this what hedging is? I don’t like it!

LATE GAMES

New York Jets at Los Angeles Chargers (-9.5)

It feels weird to lay 9.5 points with a 2-7 team, but such is the power of the Jets’ ineptitude. To New York’s credit, they were competitive in two of their last three games (against NE and BUF), but those two games were sandwiched around a 35-9 beatdown at the hands of Kansas City. We would all feel better if the cool, young Chargers steamrolled these sad sacks in a joyous explosion of big plays, and this pick is my attempt at speaking it into existence.

Miami Dolphins (-3.5) at Denver Broncos

I don’t know why I have an affinity for Drew Lock, but I do. He probably appeals to the same part of my brain that delights in terrible movies and horrible jokes, which is the most backhanded compliment I have ever given anyone in my entire life. Drew's gonna tough it out and try to play through a rib injury this week, which is gutty and admirable and all that, but I can’t imagine it’s going to help his already shaky accuracy.

Green Bay Packers at Indianapolis Colts (-1.5)

The Packers are getting their best defensive player back in CB Jaire Alexander, which will make life more difficult for increasingly-noodle-armed Colts QB Philip Rivers. Conversely, Indy’s defense is among the best in the league, so I don’t really see a carnival of offense coming from the Packers, either. Honestly, this should be a close, well-played game between two exceedingly competent squads. The kind of game where there will be long stretches where nothing major happens, but you can point out random shit that happens away from the ball and talk about line play and really sound like you know what the fuck you’re talking about. A tremendous game for fraudulent football-knowers everywhere.

Dallas Cowboys at Minnesota Vikings (-7)

It would be an INCREDIBLY Vikings move to lose this game outright. The return of Andy Dalton is being treated like it’s something that’ll get the Cowboys somewhat back on track, but prior to his injury he looked like crap, so I don’t really know where that’s coming from. Also, while he was out with a concussion he had a bout with COVID-19 that “hit him hard.” It’s tough for me to imagine he’s going to play BETTER coming out of what sounds like a truly shitty few weeks.

SNF: Kansas City Chiefs (-7.5) at Las Vegas Raiders

A lot has been made about how pissed Kansas City is about the Raiders taking a supposed “victory lap” in their team bus around the Arrowhead parking lot after their win over the Chiefs earlier in the season, and I’m choosing to completely buy into this narrative because it’s fucking hilarious. If K.C. has already reached the “needing to exaggerate/outright invent slights to get up for regular season games against inferior opponents” portion of their reign, we’re in great shape for entertainment purposes going forward.

MNF: Los Angeles Rams at Tampa Bay Buccaneers (-4)

I don’t remotely trust Jared Goff against Tampa Bay’s defense. I do think this is probably our SMASHMOUTH NOSEBLEED GRIND IT OUT Game of the Week, and I can already see Tom Brady screaming at his offensive linemen at some point after he gets popped a couple of times during a single possession. Should be fun!

Last Week’s Record: 7-5-1

Season Record: 65-68-5

#Sports!#Footballl #NFL #Gambling

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officialcolumbiauniversity · 4 years

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impostor syndrome in STEM

This is a post I wrote before Columbia required students to move out due to the pandemic.

February 25. I thought I’d write about this because I was reading a blog post about impostor syndrome to make myself feel better and remembered I have a blog. And people would probably like to hear what I’m thinking.

I spent all of yesterday in lab, which if you don’t remember from my last post is brand-spankin’-new and super fancy and is all sorts of out of my league knowledge-wise. My PI and I chatted about what project I’d start working on, and afterwards I stuck around to ask him questions about the laser lab because I realized that I wasn’t really asking questions when it was him and the grad students with me. So I felt safe asking the questions I did, which included “why don’t we have to lint-roll our entire body if we have to dust our shoes before entering the lab?” (the answer was efficiency) and “what’s the point in having two lenses if one makes the laser smaller and the other just makes it bigger again?” (the answer had something to do with focusing and cleaning the beam) and other questions that I thought were inane and stuff I should have been able to understand from the papers I read. He was very nice about answering all my questions and walking me through a dumbed-down version of optics in general.

I told my PI after that I don’t ask a lot of questions in lab because I can’t tell the difference between questions that I should know the answer to and waste everyone’s time, and questions that would actually create productive discussion. And he responded that there’s no such thing as a dumb question, which of course I already know since professors say that all the time. But I didn’t realize until this morning how much I do believe there is such a thing as a dumb question, and that I ask too many of them.

The thing is, I truly feel as though I’m not smart enough to make it as a scientist. I feel like everything I think of has already been thought and answered, and I can’t remember the last time I had an original thought. I feel like I ask questions that a tourist would ask, not questions that someone about to get involved in the research would ask.

I think that this blog makes me look like a STEM major who knows what they’re doing and is enthusiastic about their career as a scientist, wherever it may take them. But I just want to make it clear that I am not effortlessly enthusiastic about it: most of the time I’m paralyzed by fear about not making it into a top 10 chem grad school and then either becoming a lab tech for the rest of my scientific career or going into a different field and wasting this expensive-ass degree. I have a sub-3.0 GPA, and it’s preventing me from applying for fellowships that literally everyone seems to do, like SURF in the bio department, which sophomores and freshmen get effortlessly. I’m terrified for this summer because if I don’t figure something out soon I’m going to waste the last summer I have, the only summer where I can actually create connections and a network to figure something out post-grad. And obviously I can’t apply to grad schools with a 2-something GPA. I have no fucking clue what I’m doing.

But it’s not just my GPA that bothers me. These classes I’m taking, like right now I’m taking linear algebra and physics, should be easy As. I love both subjects and I feel like I’ve mastered the material we’ve covered so far and I feel confident solving p-sets. But when I go to pick up my graded p-sets, I have to flip through everyone else’s 15/15s and 41/42s to find my 9/15 and 38/42. These are classes that I’m over-prepared for, classes that are filled with freshmen, classes where professors go out of their way to help everyone get the highest grade possible. And to see myself get average and below-average grades is bewildering and beyond disheartening.

I try to make myself feel better by reminding myself “science isn’t about good grades it’s about being a curious and thorough researcher,” but then I come into the research lab and can’t think of a single other question than ones about the technicalities of the lab set-up. I ask about mirrors and lasers and why the room is always dark, when I feel like I should be asking questions about -- well I honestly don’t even know. Like the math or concepts or something. I ended up dropping a class that I was really excited about taking this semester, because it’s a grad course and I felt uncomfortable asking questions so I just fell too far behind. Other students asked really thoughtful questions and I just asked questions about notation.

So, yeah. That’s how I feel a majority of the time. I wonder every day what makes me cut out for my major, and if I’m trying hard enough. I don’t even know if I should be going into academia, because I’m not exactly excited by the idea of being plagued with impostor syndrome my whole career, no matter how many other people also experience it.

But I haven’t ever stopped trying in my major. And I guess that’s my point, at least of this post: I’m hopeful that science isn’t about having the grades or knowing everything, in the long run. I’m hopeful that whatever I have right now is worth something, and that I’ll be able to build a career I love on top of it. But the purpose of this post was just to let you guys know that for many undergrads here preparing for STEM careers, there’s no amount of prestige that can get rid of these insecurities. For example, even if I did get into my dream grad school (Stanford), I’d be constantly worried that I fluffed my application to make myself look good and they let me in unwittingly. So, no, being in a major I love doesn’t protect me from all the post-undergrad anxieties.

Update: it’s March 29, the day I’m posting this, and as you well know COVID-19 is in full swing in the US. Columbia was quick to send all students home, and ultimately decided that this semester would be graded on a pass/fail basis for all students, with no exceptions. If you’re unfamiliar with the system, the key piece of info is that Pass grades have no weight on your GPA, but Fail grades do (as a 1.0). Many people argue that a mandatory P/F system is beneficial to students who can’t study under their current situations, and I agree with that. I personally can’t study effectively in my situation. But I’m also panicking over the fact that I won’t be able to boost my GPA this semester, leaving me with a shitty GPA for yet another year (if we return in the fall). Many internships I was in the process of applying to will be revoked, if not because of the pandemic then because my personal statement claiming “my GPA by the start of this internship will have been brought up by my efforts this semester” will be absolutely inaccurate. Applying to grad school in the fall is a laughable wish; I’ll need to take a gap year most likely, since I won’t be able to land a job. What I really need is for Passes to weigh as 4.0s, but I doubt the university will do that. Anyways, that was just an update on the GPA part of the rant above. Hope y’all are staying safe.

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prorevenge · 5 years

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My homophobic English teacher...

I saw a post on here recently about someone's horrible English teacher, and it reminded me of my own experience. TL;DR at the bottom. Doing this requires a quick lesson on the Australian high school system (I'll keep it short, don't worry). Basically, there are 6 years of Australian high school, from grades 7 through to 12. 7-10 are prep years where your grades don't carry over, then grades 11 and 12 are your big bad years with huge exams similar to the American system. When entering grade 11, you get to choose whether you want to pursue a path to university- doing this requires you to do ATAR subjects, which are the hardest subjects available. Your final grade in your last year is what universities use to decide if you get in. Basically, you have one year to really make it count. Grade 12 is the year to finally show off everything you've learned after your whole life at school. It's basically do or die, the hardest year of your life.

So, to begin this story, let me explain that I am good at English. Like, really good at English. I won awards and got accepted into state recognised programs for how good I am at English. It was the one subject I could guarantee to get an A in. So, naturally, I chose ATAR level English- I'd always wanted to get into some kind of English based university course. When I entered my grade 12 class I was greeted by my teacher, who we can call Mrs Slug, since she looked like a fat slimy slug. This was the kind of teacher that just handed out worksheets and sat behind her desk for the class and didn't actually teach. It was frustrating since this was my final year and I wanted my grades to be as good as possible, but I was confident in my ability to just pick it up on my own, so I didn't complain about it.

Then it came time for the first assessment. It was a creative writing piece, and short stories are my shit, so I wrote a short story. I followed the marking key carefully while also adding my own flare to the story to make it really entertaining and thought-provoking. The story was basically a dark romance told in first person, where the gender of the perspective character wasn't revealed until right at the end, thus revealing the couple to be gay. I specifically kept the main character's gender ambiguous until that point, since I wanted the reader to assume it was a girl then have a shock at the reveal. I contacted some of my friends from my high-level English programs and they all loved it. So I happily submitted it. I didn't think too much of it- I was interested to see how my ability held up in the highest level of school, but I wasn't expecting anything below a B. Then I got my result back.

Failed.

I couldn't believe it. I was genuinely confused. There were absolutely no marks on my paper, no red pen, no details as to why I failed, just a big fat 8/20 on the back of my paper. I was really upset, obviously, since I'd worked hard on it and it was the first time I'd failed an English assignment ever. I went to Mrs Slug and asked her what was wrong with it. She fluffed around and gave me an answer that essentially boiled down to, "I didn't like it." That was it. She had no reason to fail the story, she just didn't like it. News flash, that's not how marking creative writing works. If it'd been any other year, maybe I would've just blown it off and moved on, but this was grade 12. This failure could be the difference between getting into university and getting rejected.

So I went to the head of the English department at my school and requested a regrading. I didn't tell him that I'd failed it, just that I wanted more feedback. He gave it back to me as an 18/20. I then slammed my failing grade onto the desk and asked him to explain. Clearly, Mrs Slug stood by her grade, because instead of just changing my mark, they sent my writing to the top school in the state to get remarked again. It came back 19/20. Needless to say, my mark was changed to an A.

The next few assignments went relatively the same. Even when she passed me, I asked to be reassessed and my mark was always made higher than what she'd given me. Eventually, I complained enough times that they started rotating which teacher marked my work so no one could sabotage it. Even still, I always knew when Mrs Slug had been the one to mark it, because there was never any feedback on it, just a barely above average mark that eventually was changed to an A. I didn't get below 80% on any assignments for the entire year, and bare in mind, she hadn't taught anything in her class. I basically taught everyone myself and did the work at home so my peers also wanting to get into university had a shot (most of them did get in, can I add). I didn't understand why Mrs Slug didn't like my story (or me) until one day a discussion on politics came up in my class.

She's very, very right wing. A Donald Trump supporter. In Australia, that's super rare, since most of us think he's a dickhead. It suddenly hit me then. She didn't like my story because I'd done exactly what I'd wanted. She'd assumed the main character was a girl, then when it was revealed he was a guy and it was a gay relationship, she suddenly realised she'd happily been reading and enjoying a story about a gay couple. That must've infuriated her. She failed it for no reason other than her homophobia. After I realised that, I started to mess with her.

My first project was to test Donald Trump's persuasion tactics on her. My next oral presentation, I specifically used Donald Trump's speech style- the way he repeats words, over exaggerates, dehumanises, etc. I know she was the one who marked it (again, no feedback), but this time it was a 19/20. That was the highest mark she gave me all year. I couldn't believe it. The Donald had been right.

Next, I wrote a strongly worded, very opinionated article on how I was bisexual. This was the first time I'd touched LGBT topics since that first story, and I knew it would infuriate her. But she couldn't fail me at this point. It would look way too suspicious if a student who got 80%+ on assignments suddenly got less than 50%. I don't think I ever got the article back (I have a feeling it got passed around the English office so many times they just forgot) but I didn't care that much. I saw on my final report card it'd been 18/20. It must've made her angry, I hope, that she'd read my article and no doubt tried to fail it, but at this point, everyone was aware of her bullshit and prevented her from doing it. I got some dirty looks for the next few classes.

But there was one final straw that made me snap. See, my state holds a huge writing competition for high-schoolers every year. It's a massive deal, and people who win this competition often get sponsored or get scholarships based on it. Tens of thousands of entries get submitted. Obviously, I wanted to win it. Even getting shortlisted would do wonders for my uni application. Part of the school writing program meant that any short stories submitted over the year would automatically get entered in this competition, but I knew Mrs Slug would try and do me dirty. So I went to her directly, requesting to put in another version of the story I'd made with the feedback I'd gotten from the remarking. She told me, to my face, that she'd already submitted my story, so I couldn't change it. Fine. As long as it was submitted, I was happy.

I didn't get shortlisted. That hurt, a lot, since I'd really wanted it. But I figured the competition had been really good, so it was only fair. My little brother, however, got shortlisted for his year (he came in second), so I went to the awards ceremony with him.

Mrs Slug was there.

She looked shocked to see me. A little panicked, even. I was curious as to why she was there, but the answer revealed itself pretty quickly. One of the girls from my class had been shortlisted. Now listen, I'm not a bitter person. If someone genuinely writes better than me, I'm more than happy to accept that. But what I found awfully suspicious was that this particular girl had been given the highest mark in my class before I got reassessed. In other words, she had been Mrs Slug's favourite story. And her story had gotten 15/20. I know grades don't count for everything, and maybe my story had in fact been worse, but I was beginning to get a hunch as to what had happened.

As I said, I'm state recognised for my English ability, so I was able to get into contact with one of the people who had marked the competition. I asked, ever so innocently, if she'd read my story. She replied that she hadn't. I asked if she could check to see if any of the other markers had read it since it was a pretty distinctive story. The answer came back as I had feared. No one had read it.

Mrs Slug had lied through her teeth to my face. She hadn't submitted the story at all. She'd deliberately pulled it out of the submission pile because she was salty. This competition was a /huge/ deal to me- like I said, it would've been a massive part of my uni application. And she'd sabotaged it. She wanted me to fail.

I was fucking fuming at this point. Even today, I get angry thinking about it. I couldn't let this rest any longer. I was beyond pettiness. This was time for real revenge.

My parents both work in education, and my mum, in particular, was pretty high up in my area. She's also a bit of a tiger mum. When I told her what Mrs Slug had done, she was pissed. Like, so pissed. The idea that her kid might not go to uni because of a prejudiced teacher does not sit well with tiger mothers. She marched straight to the principal's office, and since he knew her, we were heard out almost immediately. I explained what happened, how I'd consistently been marked too lowly and my competition application had been removed without my knowledge. My mum was able to kick up a pretty big stink about it, ranting about how Mrs Slug shouldn't even be qualified to teach at all, let alone grade 12 ATAR English, and she needed to be removed immediately. The principal copped an earful, then the head of English did too. Both of them cowered in fear before the rage of my mother. There was nothing they could use to defend her, either- I had proof of the undermarking and the removal of my story application. Statements from my classmates confirmed she hadn't taught anything all year. It wasn't looking good for Mrs Slug.

She continued to sag behind her desk like a festering cancer for the last few weeks of the year, giving me stinky looks. I just quietly did my work, helping other people study for the final exam. I knew I'd done enough. In Australia, you can't just fire government workers, but you can move them. Sure enough, at the end of the year, she was relocated to the middle of fucking nowhere, to a school of fewer than 100 kids, where I hope she rots to this day. It's the closest you can get to being fired.

I got into university, by the way, and I'm now studying my English course. I should also mention that I got into the most competitive university in Australia, and I still get 80% and above in my short stories. That 40% she gave me was total bullshit, and I'm glad I made her suffer for it. No teacher should be able to get away with sabotaging their students like that, especially when it's their future on the line. I can only hope that the few students she teaches now don't have to experience the same thing.

TL;DR: my homophobic English teacher tried to fail me on my assignments, then sabotaged my chances in an important competition, so I got her essentially fired.

(source) story by (/u/millochi)

#prorevenge #by /u/millochi #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

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summahsunlight · 4 years

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This Way Became My Journey, CH.10

A/N: Here is the last chapter for Caretaker. Enjoy!

GIF not my own.

The briefing room seemed strangely empty to Sarah Barrett as she slipped into a chair at the table. The last time she had been in this room the senior staff had been in tack, with the exception of Tuvok. Now, the only ones to adorn the chairs were Tuvok, herself, and a jolted looking Chakotay.

Two hours had passed since Kathryn Janeway had ordered the destruction of the Caretaker's array. No one had seen the Captain since that moment, the only ones going in and out of the Ready Room being her children. And then out of the blue she had ordered Tuvok, Sarah, and Chakotay all into the conference room and said she would be joining them in a few moments. Now the three of them were sitting silently, each lost in their own thoughts. Tuvok was staring emotionless at the ship's schematics screen, Chakotay nervously out the windows, and Sarah's own eyes flicked back forth between the two men.

"We have a problem," Kathryn's voice cut through the silence as she came into the room. All three pairs of eyes focused on her. The bluntness of her statement was not lost on them. "Besides the obvious fact that we are now seventy thousand light years from home, we don't have a senior staff to run this ship. Lieutenant Tuvok and Lieutenant Barrett have done a fine job in the wake of our situation, but it won't last. Eventually, they'll burn themselves out."

Chakotay realized that she was talking to him more than to Tuvok or Sarah.

"Not to mention, there's a matter of a Maquis crew without a ship," Kathryn added. "Now, I could just very well throw you all in the Brig for the next seventy five years, but," her voice dropped slightly, and became softer, "that wouldn't benefit any of us. I'm here to offer the proverbial olive branch."

Tuvok raised an eyebrow and briefly made eye contact with Sarah.

"What do you mean by that?" Chakotay asked her, although he had pretty much surmised what the woman wanted.

"Join my crew," Kathryn replied, not bothering to notice the objective look in Sarah's eyes. "We could use the extra hands around here and…" here she paused again, "I need a new First Officer. I've promoted Mister Tuvok to Lieutenant Commander for his service on your ship and to me; however, I'm going to need him at Tactical."

Chakotay noticed Sarah fidget in her chair and realized that the Captain had not talked to her counselor about anything she may have decided in the past two hours that she had locked herself in her ready room. "Are you offering the job to me, Captain?"

Kathryn gave him a curt nod of her head. "You were once a Starfleet officer, you're more than qualified to do the job."

He mulled over her offer. In the end, he concluded that he didn't have much of a choice, since he had destroyed his own ship to help save hers. He also knew that for her, a by the book Starfleet officer, it had to be a tough choice to send up the white flag and ask sworn enemies of her beloved Federation to join her crew. But desperate times called for desperate measures and by accepting the job, Chakotay was about to disembark on a journey that was going to show him that Kathryn Janeway was not always a by the book officer. "I'll speak to my crew, but joining your crew sounds a hell of a lot better then sitting in the brig for seventy five years."

For the first time in hours, Kathryn let a smile play on her lips. "Good, now that that is settled. Tom Paris."

"Tom Paris?" Sarah repeated, confused.

"I've decided to give him a field commission of Lieutenant, junior grade," Kathryn replied. "We need a good pilot out here and he's the best one we've got. It seems only fair that I've offered spots in this crew for the Maquis that I offer him one as well."

"Captain, I'll take responsibility for him," Chakotay offered, in a hushed tone. The eyes of the three Starfleet officers snapped up to the man's face. "I…my life belongs to him; it's…a complicated story, perhaps another time."

Kathryn gave him a gentle nod of understanding and turned her blue eyes to Sarah. "I understand you were a full lieutenant, recommended for promotion to lieutenant commander, when you were on the Explorer. Gabriel never told me that."

"My rank was striped before the trial, and let's just say the promotion...was held off," Sarah responded. "I don't see how this is relevant now."

"It's relevant because I'm reinstating you to full lieutenant," Kathryn answered her, firmly.

"Ma'am, can I ask why?"

"Gabriel would tell you its because I like taking risks," Kathryn replied, "however, current circumstances could call upon you to be in command every now and then, in the absence of Mister Tuvok, myself, and Mister Chakotay. Tuvok and I already talked about this, earlier while we were searching for Harry and B'Elanna; we could use another good officer around here. Naturally, you'd be our last resort when it comes to command situations, but your job just got a bit more important now, you're going to need the privileges of a commander to help you through. It also seemed relevant to elevate your rank above the highest rank I'll be given the Maquis, with the exception of Commander Chakotay."

"In other words, making me more of an authority figure in their eyes," Sarah reasoned.

"You could put it that way," Kathryn said. She looked about the room for a brief moment. "I understand that this is going to be difficult, but we have to work together, as senior officers, and set an example for this crew, if we're to survive."

"I'll have to set up a counseling schedule, the first few days are going to be the roughest," Sarah said.

"And I'll start immediately on training the Maquis crewmembers in the latest of Starfleet protocol and tactics," Tuvok responded.

Chakotay was impressed how easily the two officers had put any reservations they may have aside and focused on what was more important; getting this crew home. However, he wasn't a fool, he knew that it was going to take time, precious time, for all of this to work out, if it ever did.

Kathryn nodded her head in approval, expecting nothing less of her officers. Stretching out her hand to Chakotay, she waited for him to take it. "Do we have an agreement?" For a moment the Native American looked into her deep pools of blue irises and then reached out and took her hand, unknowingly vowing to stand by her.

She was about to dismiss them when Sarah spoke up, "Captain, there's another matter we need to talk about."

"Oh? Really?"

"Mister Neelix approached me, he and Kes want to stay on Voyager," Sarah replied.

"You explained to him that this isn't a passenger ship, right?"

"Yes ma'am," Sarah responded, "but he made a compelling argument. He knows this region of space, quite frankly, better than any of us, he offered himself as a guide. Kes has already proven that she is an explorer at heart, I think this crew could benefit greatly from their addition."

Kathryn found her reasons adequate and it warmed her heart that they had made some friends already in this hostile region of space. With a brief nod of her head she informed Sarah to add Neelix and Kes to the crew roster, and then dismissed her officers, ordering all of them to be present on the Bridge in an hour. She had a few wrinkles to smooth out and then it was time to address her crew.

Commander Chakotay, formerly of the Maquis ship Val Jean, strode slowly down the corridor towards the cargo bay where his crew was being held under armed guard. He glanced over his shoulder tentatively.

The two security officers who had escorted him up to the briefing room were still there, but now they were keeping a distance. Chakotay shook his head slightly and kept walking. Why Kathryn Janeway trusted him was beyond his comprehension, the fact that she did, made him realize he had misjudged her from the start. It was clear that this was no ordinary woman in command of the U.S.S Voyager. She had after all held out the proverbial olive branch to him, despite the obvious protest in her counselor's eyes and the stoic expression on Tuvok's face. Janeway saw the need for survival; if they were to survive she needed him. Any other man in his position would probably take advantage of that. He could think of a few other commanders in the Maquis that would have used her…femininity against her. But he couldn't. He may have left Starfleet, became an enemy of the Federation, but he still had honor. This was Kathryn Janeway's ship and she had offered him either the brig for seventy five years or to help them all get home. Personally he didn't want to be forced to live in a tiny cell for the next seven decades.

He stopped just outside of the cargo bay. In his mind he could hear almost all of them, yelling at him that this was ridiculous. They couldn't join Janeway's crew, she had been sent to hunt them down, arrest them. Again he shook his head slightly and entered the room. B'Elanna Torres and Seska were the first to stand up and greet him. B'Elanna was wearing a scowl and watched with intense hatred as the security detail followed Chakotay into the room.

"I'm surprised Janeway hasn't sucked us all out into space yet," the half Klingon woman hissed gesturing towards the cargo bay doors. "What did she want to see you for anyways? To hand you your sentence?"

Chakotay shook his head. "No," he replied calmly, "she had an offer to make."

Seska scoffed. "An offer? What kind of offer? The brig for seventy five years or confinement to this room?"

"She offered for us to join her crew," Chakotay stated, his voice echoing off of the walls.

"She what?" B'Elanna choked. "You're kidding right? Is that her way of saying 'I'm sorry that my holier than thou Starfleet principles stranded you here'? Because if it is, I don't buy it. This is her way to set us all up to fail, so if we do make it home, she can throw it all in our supporters' faces. She hates us Chakotay, she doesn't want this."

He glanced at their angry faces for a moment. "She's doing what she thinks is best for her crew."

"That's just it, it's about her crew, not about us Chakotay," Seska snapped, "Don't think for one second she cares about what happens to you."

"She'll keep us under tight survaliance you know it," B'Elanna retorted. "Personally I'll take the brig."

Chakotay felt angry. He had told Janeway, promised her that he would join her. Clenching his fists to stop an angry outburst, he glared at the group of rebels. "I don't think you understand this isn't a choice. I've already made it, we're joining her crew. I told Captain Janeway that you would all give her your best and that you'd follow her just as loyally as you followed me." Their faces conveyed shock. He didn't care, it was his duty now to not be their friend. "Now," he growled, "the security details will escort you to your quarters, and by the way, you all need to change, you're out of uniform."

As they flied out, B'Elanna muttered, "I hope you're not making a mistake Old Man."

"Me too, B'Elanna," he mumbled, "me too."

Newly commissioned Lieutenant Tom Paris looked about the gathering on the bridge. Starfleet and Maquis crewmen were scattered about the cabin, at various stations, the senior staff, still not complete because they had yet to find a chief engineer or a chief medical officer, were also present. Tom wondered what had prompted Janeway to give him the commission. In her ready room, just a few minutes before she had told him that he had earned it. But had he really? Was it just her need for a good pilot that got him the rank?

He was going to prove to her otherwise if that was the case.

B'Elanna Torres nervously adjusted her issued uniform. Never in her life time after she had dropped out of the Academy had she thought she'd be wearing one of these uniforms again. When Chakotay had announced Janeway's offer, she had scoffed at the idea. But he had turned her objections down, gently, in that damn soft tone of his, and told her that it was better than staying in the brig for the trip home.

She was certain that this merging of two completely different crews was never going to work.

Harry Kim was just grateful to be at his station all in one piece. He hadn't had much time to think about it while they had been battling the Kazon, but now as his fingers brushed the controls, he realized just how close he came to dying on his first mission. But now, the reality of their new situation began to set in, and he longed for home.

Neelix and Kes stood mutely near the command station, each new friend determined to help the crew get through their long journey and by apart of it.

Sarah Barrett and Chakotay stood in the center of the command station, each lost in their own thoughts, wondering if the Captain had made the right decision when it came to destroying the array and stranding them here, essentially merging two crews into one.

The door to the ready room hissed open and all eyes turned towards her. "Captain on the Bridge," Tuvok called out and everyone, with the exception of Neelix and Kes, slid into an at ease position. Kathryn made her way up the steps and glanced around at the gathered officers and crewmen. It was a sight that normally didn't overwhelm her, but perhaps today it did because of what she was about to say.

"At ease," she told them, watching as they all slid into position, and as Paris took his seat.

Making her way through the command station, making sure to make eye contact with each officer as she passed, she wound her way, slowly around Conn. With a deep breath she began to speak to them, hoping that her words didn't sound harsh or cold. "We're alone, in an uncharted part of the galaxy," she started her eyes falling on Kes and Neelix. "We've already made some friends here, and some enemies. We have no idea of the dangers we're going to face, but one thing is clear, both crews are going to have to work together if we're to survive," she said, stepping up to Chakotay. "That's why Commander Chakotay and I have agreed that this should be one crew, a Starfleet crew and as the only Starfleet vessel assigned to the Delta Quadrant we'll continue to follow our directive: to seek out new worlds and to explore space. But our primary goal is clear. Even at maximum speeds it would take 75 years to reach the Federation. But I'm not willing to settle for that. There's another entity like the Caretaker out there somewhere who has the ability to get us there a lot faster. We'll be looking for her, and we'll be looking for wormholes, spatial rifts or new technologies to help us. Somewhere along this journey, we'll find a way back."

With a brief pause and a glance between her new first officer and counselor, Kathryn Janeway set her jaw and looked at Tom Paris, "Mister Paris," she ordered, "Set a course; for home."

Three weeks after Voyager is pulled into the Delta Quadrant...

"Admiral Paris, sir," a young man's voice interrupted the older man's working. "Admiral Patterson is here to see you."

Owen Paris scoffed, looking at the scattered PADDs on his desk. "Did you inform him that I'm not to be disturbed unless it was an emergency? I can't take every call or I'll never get all this work done and be home in time for my wife's dinner party with the Hayes'. Tell him I'll catch up with him tomorrow."

The young aide nervously wrung his hands. "I did tell him that you were busy, sir, he insisted. He told me to inform you that it was about your son."

Thomas. Of course this was about Thomas, Owen thought as he sighed heavily. Erin hadn't been too happy three weeks ago when he had shown up on the Paris' door with the news that after helping the Voyager find the Maquis and getting out of jail on parole, he'd be leaving Federation space, to only heavens knew where. Owen was utterly exhausted by the lashing out Thomas had done since the day he was born. He knew that he hadn't been the best father to his son, he'd pushed him to extremes never realizing that Thomas would push back just as more. Erin was devastated that he was leaving as soon as he could, she blamed Owen. "What did my son do this time? Is he back from the mission yet?"

"The Voyager's mission is what Admiral Patterson would like to talk to you about," the aide replied. "Shall I let him in?"

"Very well," Owen said, pushing the PADD he was working on to the side. "I'm already behind in my work, send him in."

Owen Paris had known Matthew Patterson for quite some time, he had been the one to push Owen to take on a spitfire of a student, one by the name of Kathryn Janeway. Owen could tell that what Patterson had to tell him not was none too pleasant by the way the man was walking with his shoulders slightly slumped. "Matthew, please have a seat," Owen greeted when the Vice Admiral entered his office. "What can I do for you my old friend?"

Patterson didn't sit. "Owen, I wish this was a social call. I'm afraid I'm here on business."

Owen felt his shoulders stiffen. "What kind of business?"

"It's about the Voyager," Patterson said. Owen noticed the man's hands were trembling slightly. "I blame myself Owen."

"Blame yourself for what?"

"We hurried Voyager's final preparations when our agent didn't report in," Patterson began," I let Katie talk me into it, you know her, she's stubborn, she didn't want too much time to pass since we hadn't heard from him. I thought the ship was ready, we all thought the ship was ready. We were wrong."

Owen shook his head. "I'm not sure I'm following you, Matthew."

Patterson's eyes grew sad and tired. "I ordered them to the Badlands, to track Chakotay."

"The Badlands, Matthew no ship can navigate through the plasma storms."

"We believed the Voyager could, she was designed for such places," Patterson replied with a slight raise of his chin.

Owen suddenly felt his heart race, thundering in his chest. "Matthew, what's happened? What happened to Voyager?"

"I want you to know that we're doing everything we can to recover them," Patterson said, fleetingly.

"Recover? My god, Matthew, my son...what the hell happened?"

The other admiral's eyes grew even more sad and tired. "We haven't confirmed reports yet but a Cardassian patrol ship saw them entering the Badlands...and subsequently destroyed by a plasma storm. It will be at least two more weeks before we can modify a ship to search for wreckage," Patterson replied, "If we can believe the Cardassian patrol's story. If this is the case, than all hands are considered lost."

Lost, Thomas...lost. Owen could only hear the pounding of his own heart. Erin would surely blame him now for everything that had befallen their son. And Owen couldn't say that he didn't blame her for doing so. Their son was lost, finally beyond their reach, there would never be reconciliation, never be peace between them again. In that moment Owen forgave his son of all his misgivings and with a heavy heart realized that he only did in the moment when Thomas was dead, not when he was living. It was something that Owen Paris was going to have to take to his grave and beyond, the knowledge that forgiveness was indeed given too late.

Nothing could shatter the spirit of this day, Luke Barrett thought as he held his newborn daughter, absolutely nothing. He only wished that his family were alive to see her. His parents had died untimely deaths due to their jobs with Starfleet, and his sister was walking that path as well, only killing herself with her drug addiction and depression. Luke had cut ties with her after visiting her once in the prison that she was being held in.

The last time he had seen Sarah had been disaster. She was going through severe withdrawal from the drugs, screaming at the nurses at the rehab center just to give her more. Luke had been dismayed at what he saw, gone was the strong young woman that he associated with his little sister, gone was the ambitious young officer who wanted to take the Federation by storm. Well, she had taken them by storm alright, just not the way she had planned. He had been glad that his father wasn't alive anymore to see his darling little girl in that state.

Sarah, not cohesive, had blamed Luke for all her problems, blamed Commander Fletcher, blamed the officer she had been dating for just abandoning her. Luke wasn't sure what she had seen in her seven months studying the Borg, she had not been allowed to talk about it, but their relationship had gone south when she had taken that position. Luke told her she was inviting trouble, death; she thought she was doing some good for the galaxy. It had only driven her to drugs and self destruction.

He looked at his daughter. Her little deep blue eyes were looking at him; Sarah's sapphire eyes. Luke shook his head. If she had chosen differently she could have been apart of his life, but she had chosen darkness. He could not let that darkness around his family, his daughter.

"Have you thought of a name yet, sir," the nurse asked stepping into the room.

"None yet," Luke said with wry smile. "We can't seem to decide."

"You can't seem to decide," his wife, Brenna, called out from the comfort of her bed. "I've given you several suggestions."

"It's alright," the nurse said with a smile, "there is plenty of time to figure out a name. Are you well enough for visitors, ?"

"Visitors?" Luke questioned looking up at the nurse. "What visitors?"

Brenna's family had been away on holiday when she had gone into labor and wouldn't be arriving until tomorrow. He didn't have a family to speak of, with the exception of Sarah, but he had not spoken to her about Brenna's pregnancy. Who could be coming to see them? Luke glanced at his wife, who shrugged her shoulders. She seemed just as confused as he was.

The nurse waited patiently for an answer. When she didn't get one, she prodded, "There is an Admiral here to see you. Mister Barrett I assumed it was a colleague of your late father's."

Luke frowned. He hadn't been in touch with any colleagues of Jason Barrett's since his father had died unexpectedly in a shuttle accident. None of the admirals had contacted him when Sarah had been on trial, they barely looked at him when during that trial. She had disgraced both of them in front of the Federation brass and he wasn't even in Starfleet. "I haven't spoken to any colleagues of my father since his death."

"Shall I send him away?"

"No," Luke said, "no that would be rude. You can send him in."

Brenna sat up and looked at her husband thoughtfully. "Do you think Sarah sent him?"

"She didn't even know you were pregnant, I don't see how she could have sent him."

"Don't you think we should tell her, Luke, she's your sister."

"My sister died when my father did."

Brenna looked at him sadly. The rift between Luke and Sarah had started when she had taken the assignment on the Explorer. It had taken her away from Earth and her family for seven months. She'd been away when her father had died in the shuttle accident, she didn't make it home in time for the memorial. Luke had been furious at her when she finally did show up on Earth, begging him to forgive her not making it back in time. Brenna remembered him slamming the door in her face. They'd heard nothing from her, assuming that she went back to her ship afterwards, until the lawyer had shown up on their doorstep. The drug addiction had been the final straw for Luke, he'd cut all ties with her and it broke Brenna's heart to know her daughter wasn't going to know her aunt.

The door to Brenna's room slid open and a tall, broad shouldered man dressed in the uniform of a Vice Admiral entered. Luke stood and placed his daughter in his wife's arms and turned to greet him. "Admiral Thornton," he said holding out his hand, "it's been a while, sir."

Adam Thorton grasped Luke's hand tightly. "I'm sorry to bother you, Luke, but...I have news."

"News? What kind of news?" Luke asked, crossing his arms over his chest. My god Sarah what have you done now. "Sarah?"

"Yes, Sarah," Thornton replied. He cleared his throat. "How much of her latest assignment did you know about?"

Luke blinked. "Her latest assignment? She's been reassigned, already?"

Thornton nodded his head. "Yes, to the U.S.S Voyager." The Admiral looked at the ground for a moment, before glancing up at Luke and Brenna. "I wish I didn't have to break this news to you on what is to be the most joyous day of your life, the birth of your first child, but I'm afraid the news I bring is not good news. The Voyager has not made contact with Headquarters in three weeks, a Cardassian patrol outside of the Badlands reports seeing it hit by a large plasma storm and destroyed. We fear that all hands have been lost. I'm sorry...Luke...your sister is counted among the missing."

In that instant the most joyous day of his life quickly turned to the worst, the day that Starfleet took away the last of his family. Later, on the name card of his newborn daughter, the nurse finally wrote a name, Sarah Faith Barrett.

Phoebe Janeway awoke to the sound of her vidphone beeping. Grumbling she pushed the quilt off of her body, crawled over her fiancée, David McPherson and went to answer it. It was so damn early in the morning, who the hell was calling her this early on a Sunday morning, after she had spent the night out celebrating David's latest novel. She wasn't surprised that it was her mother. But there was something about the way Gretchen Janeway was looking at her that made Phoebe sober up and quickly. "Mom," she gasped, "what's wrong?"

Tears pooled in Gretchen's eyes. "It's your sister," she said, choking on the words. "Voyager hasn't reported into Starfleet for three weeks."

Kathryn would never go that long without communicating with Starfleet. The ramification of that bit of news started to settle in. Phoebe knew very little about her sister's latest mission, just that it was taking her away from Earth and her children longer than usual since Bryan Dawson's death. But she did know that Kathryn had been assigned to track down a Maquis cell, one that her friend and security officer had infiltrated. Phoebe had been angry that her sister would take such a dangerous mission when she had two small children to think about. Ava was only a year old and had already lost her father, but Kathryn couldn't see beyond the bow of her ship sometimes, Phoebe thought wildly. "What does Starfleet Command think? Is it the Maquis?"

"No," Gretchen said. "The Maquis that Kathryn was sent to find disappeared as well."

"It could have been another cell," Phoebe snapped. "I told her not to go! I told her it was too dangerous!"

"Phoebe, there's more."

The tone of voice her mother was using caused Phoebe to fall back into the chair she was sitting on. More? What more could there possibly be? She had already been informed that her sister and her ship was missing, somewhere in the Badlands, chasing after terrorists. What more could her mother have to tell her? "Oh god, Mom, what's going on?"

The tears were now spilling down her cheeks. "I tried to reason with your sister, she wouldn't listen. I knew that I should have called Gabriel, she might have listened to him, but not me, she always took what I said with a grain of salt."

"Mom, where are the kids?" Phoebe asked, suddenly realizing that her mother's house was too quiet for a woman who was taking care of children.

"Kathryn took them with her."

This news slammed into Phoebe head on. Her heart began to race. How could Kathryn take Ava and Michael with her on such a dangerous mission, was she out of her mind? But, she realized, her sister hadn't been thinking straight from the moment she found out Bryan was dead. From there she had just taken everything one tiny step at a time. She clung to Ava like she was a life preserver and Michael was always kept at a distance, a painful reminder of the life she had lost with her husband. But Phoebe had thought that she had better sense than to bring her children along on a mission that was risky. "Starfleet…they…they let her do that?"

"Admiral Patterson approved of it," Gretchen replied, now sobbing.

Phoebe stood up. "Stay there Mom, I'm coming over."

It would only take her a few moments to get showered and ready. Her mother was emotionally breaking down and needed her. So much for a nice brunch with David. But Phoebe knew that her mother was never going to handle this on her own. Not when she had just lost her daughter and grandchildren in one communication. Phoebe choked a sob as she left a message PADD for David that she would be at her mother's. The time for Phoebe Janeway, the baby sister of Kathryn Janeway, lost somewhere in space, to mourn would be later. Much later.

#star trek voyager #star trek voyager fanfiction #kathryn janeway #chakotay #tom paris #sarah barrett (oc)#harry kim #b'elanna torres #kes #neelix #the doctor (emh)#janeway x chakotay #tom paris x ofc

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365daysofsasuhina · 5 years

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[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Two Hundred Seventy-Three: A Screeching Halt ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina, blood, serious injury ] [ Verse: Best Years of Your Life ] [ AO3 Link ]

“All right, I’ll see you after class, then.”

“Okay! So, are we still going to have our take-out and movie Friday, or…?”

Sasuke chuckles, bringing his wife forward with an arm around her waist, planting a kiss against her temple. “Of course. I even delayed a quiz so I’d have less to grade this weekend.”

“Oh, scandalous, putting aside your work!” Hinata can’t help but tease, going a light shade of pink at the gesture.

“Hey, you teach first graders, you don’t have to deal with teenagers and their boatloads of homework like I do. If I want to give myself a break, I’ll do it. We’re not about to fall that far behind on the curriculum. We’ve had this planned for two weeks, now. A few days’ break from an algebra quiz won’t kill anyone.”

“All right, all right...well, I better get going. I’ve got a mini field trip to prepare for.”

“Heading to the park for the day?”

“Mhm. The high school band is hosting a concert and the elementary classes all get to go watch.”

“You’ll have to tell me how it goes.”

“I will. See you later, hun.”

“Bye.” Dropping Hinata off in front of their small town’s elementary school, Sasuke watches her reach the door before heading off further down the street to the high school. While his wife is a first grade teacher, he himself hosts algebra classes, typically for freshmen, but a few older students tend to get sprinkled in. True to his word, he’s skipping their quiz that was scheduled so he can, instead, have a guilt-free night without anything to grade to finally get a little peace and quiet with his wife. With the school year newly begun, they’ve both been up to their ears with work since the tail end of August. Any chance they get for a break is more than welcome.

Parking in the staff lot, Sasuke fetches his supplies from the back seat before making his way into the building...which means navigating a sea of teenagers. Easing his way through, he occasionally gives a greeting, nodding to students he knows. At one point he gently taps a teen’s head, giving him a scolding look at having found him lip-locked with his girlfriend.

“Try to keep PDA to a minimum, please,” Sasuke chides with a sigh.

The pair just pout, making no promises either way as they sulk. Sasuke just snorts. He knows well how it was being a teenager in love...at least, a bit. He and Hinata didn’t really get together until their senior year, carrying on into college when they both went into the same basic major of education, just with different focuses. While Hinata loves small children and early education, Sasuke prefers math and people a little more...grown up.

...not that all teenagers are mature, by any means.

Making his way into his classroom, he starts sorting through his things: reviewing today’s lesson plan, making sure he has graded homework to pass back, taking out today’s roll call sheet...and sending Hinata a quick text.

Did you pick a movie, by the way?

As he awaits her reply, he glances up as a few early bird students file in before the bell, eyes then lowering back to their textbook. His first period class has actually turned out to be one of his most productive, averaging a bit higher grades than the other slots he has through the day.

His mobile then buzzes.

Hm, not yet...we’ll have to browse Netflix and see what’s what. Should we watch an old favorite, or try something new?

He mulls that over.

Personally, if this is a relaxing kind of night, I’d prefer something we know so we don’t have to pay TOO close of attention...I might just doze off.

After a pause she responds, and he can almost hear her laugh.

All right, oldie but goodie it is! But next time I want to see that new drama...can’t remember the name but you can’t put it off forever :P

Sasuke can’t help a snort. Oh, yes he can.

But by then the warning bell rings, so he puts the phone on silent and gets ready to address his gaggle of teens. What with it being Friday, he doesn’t have the highest expectations for attention spans, but...hopefully they can get through his lesson, and then they’ll have all weekend to study. Or...in most cases, probably just cram a bit Sunday night.

He knows their ways.

“All right class,” he calls as the final bell rings, every desk occupied. “I’ll take roll call, and then we’ll jump right into things. I know you’re all eager to get through to the weekend, so...let’s just get today’s lesson over with, shall we?”

With everyone in attendance, he dives right into their current chapter section, explaining and giving examples on the white board. A few students have questions toward the end, but otherwise it seems to be smooth sailing.

So, when the bell rings, he announces the upcoming quiz as they take their leave. “Be ready on Monday! No homework for today, so go enjoy your weekend outside studying, all right?”

Second period he has free, finishing up a few stray assignments for an afternoon class he has yet to finish grading. When third period rolls around, he finds several students missing.

“They’re at the park for the concert,” one girl explains, and Sasuke nods in understanding.

“Right, the one for the little kids, gotcha. All right, well let’s get started, and -”

Before he can go on, the door slams open, and the entire class (including him) give a jolt. Beyond it is the gym teacher, looking harried and out of breath.

“Sasuke, I’m sorry but - your wife, she -”

Dread immediately weighs in his gut like a stone. “...what happened?”

“There was a-a car, and -” He swallows. “She was leading her class across the road to the park. They aren’t sure if the driver was drunk or not, but Hinata was struck, and -”

Sasuke’s face slackens, quickly draining of color. “...I...I have to -?”

“I’m free this period, I’ll watch your kids - get going!”

Nodding jerkily, Sasuke wastes no time in rushing past him through the door, sprinting down the hall to the door nearest the elementary school as frantic voices fill his classroom.

Please, please no...please no!

Shoving the door open, he doesn’t slow down, running flat out the entire way to the school and the park across the road. Already there’s sirens cutting through the air as the local ambulance makes its way to the scene. Elementary school students are gathered in the park, many crying as confusion and panic spread through the classes like a wildfire.

On the sidewalk, several teachers are gathered around, frantic and gesturing. One looks up, and he recognizes the elementary nurse. “Oh Sasuke, good you’re here - she’s pretty badly hurt, but she’s going to be okay. I think she’s got a few broken ribs and a broken arm, but her head and spine appear to be fine. We’re not moving her just in case, until the EMTs get here.”

Let through as the other adults part, Sasuke feels his heart stop in his chest. Hinata lays on the sidewalk, a bit of blood smeared across her chin. Her breath is short and gasping, an arm wrapped around her middle with a grimace of pain. The other lies weakly along her side.

“Oh shit...Hinata…” Carefully kneeling, he gently lays a hand on her shoulder. “Honey, I’m here…”

“Sasuke…? Oh, thank God...I-I’m all right, just...just a little banged up.”

“Shh, don’t talk - save your energy, and don’t make it any worse for those ribs.” He smooths at her bangs, expression gaunt with worry and apprehension. A glance up, and he asks, “What happened?”

“Hinata was leading her kids across the street when a car just...swerved around the corner,” a man replies, tone hushed. “It was all over the road, and going far above the speed limit. Hinata managed to corral the kids and get them out of the way just in time, but she was hit instead. The car tried to stop, the tires screeched something awful, but...it was still moving at a good clip when it hit her. She saved those kids...no telling the damage someone that small would have had. She kept them from panicking and scattering all over the road...”

“And the driver?”

The other teacher nods, and Sasuke looks up. Only then does he see the car smashed into a tree, a small swarm of police cars surrounding it.

“Seems they were in some kind of high speed chase. What possessed them to go through a school zone is beyond me…”

Siren blaring, the ambulance finally pulls up, EMTs rushing to evaluate the situation. Once they have her checked out, a stretcher is fetched, Hinata lifted onto it and loaded into the back.

“Sir, are you her husband?”

“Yes, I am. Can I go with you?”

“Of course.”

Turning back, a teacher lifts a hand in understanding before Sasuke can speak. “We’ll get word to the high school. I’m sure they’ll understand.”

“Thank you…” Climbing in beside his wife, Sasuke takes her hand, face still drawn.

“I’m all right, Sasuke...it could be w-worse.”

“I know, but that doesn’t make it any better. You got hit by a car…!”

“A few weeks, and I’ll be right as rain,” she assures him, smiling tiredly. “But...I guess this m-means we’ll miss our movie night...huh?”

“...I’m sure we can reschedule. For now...you’re my priority.”

Lacking any more words, Hinata just blinks slowly at him as the doors are closed and they pull away.

.oOo.

Oh man, I hate writing a hurt Hinata ;o; But this was the first thing that came to mind upon reading the prompt. She'll be okay, just needs some recup time...and she was a hero saving those kidlings! Poor Sasuke's very shook up, tho... Anyway, not...much else to say? I'm v tired and tomorrow's gonna be a long one, so I better get some sleep~ Thanks for reading!

#sasuhina #uchiha sasuke #hyūga hinata #blood //#serious injury //#best years of your life [ au ]#365daysofsasuhina

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