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97-liners · 9 months

Text

characters: mingyu, a gender neutral y/n

tags: zombie apocalypse, horror

warnings: major character death, gore, gun violence (and other violence, idk this is a zombie apocalypse setting), resource scarcity (see setting), mentions of a global pandemic (see setting)

60-minute free writing exercise

words: 2.3k

Mingyu was silent when he died.

Your hand on the trigger, his knees at your feet, you looked down the barrel to see him crying. In a moment of clarity, he had stopped fighting, and he was Mingyu again. Your Mingyu. And you knew that it was your Mingyu, that he still loved you, because he let his hands still at his sides and sat back on his heels, eyes glassy and wide and terrified, afraid to die, but afraid of what would happen if he didn’t. And because you knew he loved you, and because you loved him, loved him so much it was like a vice grip on your chest and on your finger-- because you loved him, you didn’t let his last little gift go to waste. Before the moment of clarity could pass, you pulled the trigger.

That was a week ago.

Now, you’re in your car-- his car, Mingyu’s old Toyota that he bought when he graduated college and got his first real engineering job. The days are long, and the nights are dark, but you have a destination in mind. The two of you were going to go to California together, where there’s a large settlement on the coast. In the last days before the cell towers went down, Mingyu had been on the phone with one of his old childhood friends, talking about it. “Let’s go,” his hand on yours, chest full of that stupid optimism that got him through junior year and the first six months of his shitty job in Jersey City and the time the two of you were stuck waiting for the MTA for 45 minutes, “Minghao says there's space for two.”

You’re alone now, driving through Nebraska on the I-80. There’s gas stockpiled in the trunk, and there’s still about a hundred miles until you get to Cheyenne, where you’ll get out and look for a gas station with still-functional pumps. The shotgun is on the passenger seat, accompanying you like a friend— like a lover. (There’s still blood and brains in the crevices of the gun. You spent hours with a rag next to a muddy puddle of water by the side of the road, wiping down every square inch you could see. Fresh water is hard to come by, however, and it’s not smart to stay in one place for too long. Hell, you haven’t even been able to shower in weeks. Your skin still bears the chemical burns from when you had wiped yourself down in bleach. It hurt, but you couldn’t risk the virus getting into your bloodstream, even accidentally.)

It’s sunny today. Nearly painfully bright. It feels like it shouldn’t be this sunny, not after everything that’s happened. But the sun is distant and uncaring and beats relentlessly down on the rolling plains around you.

And then, from miles away, you see it— a rest stop. The light-up sign has long since blinked out, but the shape is unmistakeable in the sea of blond grass rippling in the wind. A box-shaped building, next to it the hollowed-out remains of a Wendy’s. And a gas station. The huge kind, with two rows of pumps and a parking lot. Your breath hitches as you get closer and closer and the details materialize into view. There’s even gas prices still posted on the sign — under five bucks a gallon. That must have been put up before people started panicking in earnest and entrepreneurial gas station owners cranked up the prices to fifteen, twenty dollars a gallon, until the power lines went down and cell service went out and paying with a credit card didn’t really matter anymore. This far out into the country, when it’s been hours since you last saw anything but miles of prairie in every direction and the empty cassette ribbon of the I-80 cutting through the land, there’s a real possibility that the gas station and the accompanying convenience store might still be intact.

You pull into the parking lot. The windows are unbroken and the door is still chained shut — a good sign. You reach behind to grab the crowbar from the back seat, and when you twist back forward, you’re almost certain you catch a glimpse of Mingyu in the passenger seat. A flash of golden tan skin, of scruffy black hair, and you swear you could almost see his face, but when you turn around fully, the passenger seat is empty, save for the shotgun. And in an instant, you make the stupid decision to leave the car without bringing the gun. It’s quiet, you rationalize. There’s nobody out here. Nothing out here.

(In the days since he died, you think you’ve been hallucinating. You see the fuzzy figure of Mingyu in reflections, in shadows, in the staticky darkness when you close your eyes. Maybe it’s normal. After all, the two of you were always together, even before the pandemic. Since the first time he told you he loved you, this has been the longest time the two of you have been apart. Will be apart. Forever, you brain supplies unhelpfully.)

The door is easy to pry off its hinges, and the glass breaks but it doesn’t shatter. The inside of the convenience store is everything you had hoped for— dark, cobwebbed, but stocked full of mass-produced junk food filled with preservatives. They’re calories, artificially fortified with nutrients and chemical flavoring, meant to last for years on a shelf. Immediately, you head to where the granola bars are and begin to empty the shelves, filling your backpack in the process. Your mind is thinking ahead — this is more than enough food to last you the entire trip. This is enough to feed a couple of people for a few weeks. Is there food in Minghao’s settlement in California? How much should you take? Can all of this fit in your car? How many trips back and forth should you make?

Your stomach grumbles and you’re reminded that you’re hungry— it’s been a few days— so you take a Clif bar off the shelf and tear open the wrapper. You eat ravenously.

(Mingyu was always good at cooking. He knew how to make every soup imaginable, how to pull together the end of the month pantry staples and wilted produce and fill your tiny Brooklyn apartment with the smell of home. He knew how to fish, how to gut and clean the dirty little perch that he pulled from the Hudson, how to fry them over a fire to make them taste less like mud and more like food. How to build the fire so the smoke wouldn’t be seen, how to put it out so the embers wouldn’t give away your campsite.

You can’t cook. You’ve never had to learn, not with Mingyu by your side.)

Like your own shadow, little piece of Mingyu follow you as you make your way up and down the aisles. It’s just the hallucinations, you tell yourself. At the end of the cereal aisle, you stand still for a moment and stare at yourself in the fisheye reflection of the security mirror mounted on the ceiling. The store is dark, and the mirror is dusty. For a moment, you think you can see Mingyu standing next to you. You see him, tall, broad, alive, so beautiful he might be an angel.

It’s still breathlessly silent around you, however. You know Mingyu can’t be standing beside you, because the air around you feels empty. But there he is, in the blurry reflection of a convenience store security mirror. You blink, and he’s still there.

Suddenly, you begin to feel uneasy. He’s just another hallucination, isn’t he? The mirror is too blurry for you to get a good look at his face, and a large part of you doesn't want to see his face anyway. You're certain it’s him in the reflection. You could recognize him anywhere just from the way he stands. But something about his figure isn’t quite right.

You know what you need to do. You need to look to your side, where he’s standing in the mirror. You know, whatever it is you’re seeing, you need to just turn your head to the side and look to know what it is. Just look, it seems to tell you. I’m right here, Mingyu says.

You blink, and the Mingyu in the reflection is gone.

It’s just you, standing there in a dark convenience store, backpack open in your hands. And uneasily, you laugh. “Hey, Mingyu,” you say aloud. It’s been a week since you last said anything, and your voice sounds thin and reedy in your head. You don’t hear a response.

“Mingyu, wouldn’t it be fucked up if ghosts were real too?”

A few months ago, zombies were just something you’d see in a video game or TV show. Maybe it’s not a hallucination, but you’re not sure if that makes you feel better.

By the time you’re done raiding the convenience store, several trips back and forth to your car later, the back seat is stocked with all kinds of shelf-stable calorie-dense food. Like little luxuries, you made sure to leave some room for toilet paper, for shampoo and soap, for toothpaste, for a few boxes of instant coffee. You still need to fill up the two empty gas cans in the trunk, but first, you think you’ll use the bathrooms here.

The doors to the bathroom are on the outside of the building, and you find the keys hanging by the staff break room in the back of the store. It takes a few tries, but eventually the key turns in the lock and you’re able to push the heavy steel door open with your body weight.

As soon as the door closes behind you with a loud bang, you instantly get a bad feeling. Everything in your intuition is telling you to run. The bathroom is dark, save for one humming emergency light still illuminated overhead, and it’s completely silent. You exhale, and the sound bounces off the tiled walls and floors, whispering before settling back into that tense silence from a moment ago.

By the entrance, there are three sinks lined up in front of a large cracked mirror. You peer around the corner to see three stalls, each separated by a wall, with tall floor-to-ceiling doors that don’t leave even a centimeter of a gap between the wall. It’s still completely silent, but the persistent buzzing undercurrent of anxiety in your head is screaming at you— something isn’t right. You inch forward, skin prickling, and lightly push on the first door. It swings open. Then, you push on the third door, which also opens. You place your hand on the center door, and you can immediately tell that it’s locked.

But the bathroom is so, so quiet. Even when you stand still, glued to your spot in front of the stalls, and listen, you don’t hear anything. It’s empty, it has to be. You glance back over your shoulder at the wide mirror hanging over the sinks, and you half-expect to see Mingyu standing next to you again, but all you see is yourself—dirty, greasy, haggard— and the bathroom behind you. It’s empty.

Slowly and quietly, you walk past the center stall and enter the last one. There’s no toilet paper, but it doesn’t matter. You finish peeing and consider flushing the toilet. There’s probably still water in the tank. But something about creating all that noise doesn’t sit right with you, so you decide to forgo the last little bit of socialization clinging to your brain and exit the stall. You should probably wash your hands, you realize, so you step up to the sink and turn one of handles and, to your surprise, a stream of clean water dribbles out.

You put your hand under the water. It feels decadent. It feels like an unspeakable luxury, as you push on the soap dispenser and let some of the pink slime fall into your palm, as you lather it up into a foam. You scrub at your hands, trying your best to get out every last bit of dirt and blood embedded beneath your fingernails. And when your hands are rubbed raw but clean, you cup your hands and collect some water to rinse your face with. You wash your face with the same pink liquid soap you used to wash your hands, something you would be aghast at in another life, but now it practically feels like a spa day. Weeks of grime dissolving under your fingertips and swirling down the drain.

You shut off the water and reach for the paper towel dispenser. Maybe the bathroom really is empty and your instincts are all wrong. The door to the middle stall could be jammed, or it could have been locked by building staff before the pandemic even broke out. It would be stupid of you not to come back and fill a jug with clean water, no matter what your intuition says.

For a moment, you stand stock-still, just so you can get another gauge on the bathroom. The last bit of water leaves the sink drain and it’s silent again. You watch yourself in the mirror, hold your breath, try to sense even the tiniest shift in the air. It smells like Mingyu, you realize. Clean and soapy and warm. It’s the same scent his skin used to carry. Like he’s here, next to you.

The bathroom is silent.

Your reflection stares back at you. The overhead light casts harsh shadows over your face, leaving your eyes dark and empty.

The bathroom is silent.

Mingyu’s scent, but it’s not comforting at all. Not in the way you used to nudge your nose against his throat during lazy Sunday mornings and inhale his warmth. Not in the way you’d wear his hoodies and press your face against the lining.

The bathroom is silent. And then, with a click, the middle door unlocks.

#97.yn #97.writings

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skvatnavle · 2 years

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New in Town

Rhett Abbott x Abigail Miller

Warnings: pining, mentioning of masturbation (squint and you miss it), flirtatious behavior.

Notes: Yes, I have given reader a name, but no other descriptions of appearance. I just don't wanna use y/n 😅

And this an AU set in 1886. No spoilers for Outer Range.

Thanks to @hederasgarden for beta reading and the rest of the Top Gun girls for encouraging me to do this ❤️

Words: 1.8K

Days often went by slowly out at the frontier. Life was easier, simpler. Some would say boring, but to people born here, they didn’t mind the stillness. Sitting on his horse, gently swaying in the saddle as the sun shines above, Rhett can’t really picture living anywhere else.

Sure, as a kid he sometimes had dreams about the big city. Perry had been there a few times, with Rebecca being from Laramie, and talked about how magnificent it was. Buildings taller than you could imagine and shops full of things Rhett could never dream of being able to afford. He even heard whispers that they had just opened the doors to Wyoming’s first University.

But Rhett had never felt that pull. He wanted to make his father proud, maybe get a small farmhouse of his own one day with some little ones to carry on his name. But he was slowly giving up on that dream, none of the girls here wanted anything to do with him.

Rhett had a reputation of being a bad seed. Drinking too much, often getting into fights. No man here thought him suitable for their daughters, which had caused him to flee out windows many a night with his Long John’s around his ankles and an angry father waving a weapon. Shifting in his saddle, he can still feel one of the hails from Mr. Johnson’s shotgun that one time he was a little too slow.

Reaching the small town of Wabang, the quiet stillness of the prairie is replaced by the buzzing of the town folk going about their day. The Barber welcoms the first customer of the day and Old Man Davis opening up the trading post.

As they ride past the saloon, Sheriff Smith is escorting Trevor Tillerson away under huge protest. One of the whores’ eye Rhett and waves seductively, trying to lure him in. But he just offers her a soft smile, tipping his hat before catching up with his father and Perry.

Behind him, he hears the exaggerated whine along with his name leaving Daisy’s lips. With every other girl in town out of reach he had turned to Daisy’s services a few times. Not that he was very proud of it, but she was nice and he had gotten the release he needed. A way for him to dull his loneliness for a while.

Near the station, the crowds are gathering, awaiting the train. The railroad was done not a year ago and it had already done wonders for the town. But it was the buzzing that caught Rhett’s ear. The town had lost its teacher a month ago to sickness and now someone new was on their way here.

When they reach the trading post, Perry and Royal greet Davis, exchanging small pleasantries, but Rhett doesn’t care much. He just dismounts his horse and gives her a few pets to her cheeks, turning his gaze towards the train that’s slowly reaching the station.

No one really ever comes to Wabang, so it’s no surprise that only one person exits the train, but the crowd makes it hard for Rhett to see. Curious, he walks closer just to see what type of fella this new teacher could be. Only to stop dead in his tracks.

This certainly was no fella, and you were certainly not from around here. Dressed in a gown fit for a city lady with hair to match, you stand out from the crowd. Rhett can’t help but smile at the way you’re dressed, all fancy and polished.

When you turn, your eyes meet his and for a second, Rhett forgets how to breathe. Your eyes are magnificent, their beauty only challenged by the bright smile on your lips. Swallowing hard, Rhett tries to compose himself. You might just be the most gorgeous woman he’s ever seen.

As the chatting continues around you, and some men help to put your luggage onto a small wagon, Rhett finds himself staring at you. Not in a creepy way, or at least he hopes so. But he just can’t tear his eyes away. You’re not like any girls here. He already knew that the second he saw that book under your arm. Hardly anyone here had any real education, let alone would read for fun.

Hell, Rhett himself didn’t even know how to read properly, his father insisting on working on the farm was more important. So he knew he wasn’t smart enough for an educated lady like you. Turning away, already giving up on the idea of talking to you, Rhett hears something hard hit the ground and turns around to you. Some of the suitcases have fallen off the wagon.

“Let me help you with that, Ma’am.” Rhett offers, quickly moving to pick them up. Once done, he is met by your sweet smile, only this time it’s all for him.

“Thank you so much, Mr.?”

“Abbott. Rhett Abbott.” He offers his hand but retracts it when he sees how dirty it is. But you just keep your hand in mid-air with a smile, waiting for him to take it.

“I moved away from the big city, Mr. Abbott. I’m not opposed to getting a little dirty.”

Somehow, Rhett hopes this doesn’t just apply to the dirt on the ground, but he quickly tries to dismiss that thought, knowing full well that he shouldn’t think about you like that. He shakes your hand, yours so small against his, lips pulling up into a sweet smile.

“Sounds promising, cause we often get a little dirty here, Mrs.?”

“Miller. And it’s Miss.”

With that you turn away with a shy smile, making sure you have everything before heading to your new home. Rhett helps you onto the seat, his fingers resting at your hips for a second. Images of his hands digging into your curvy naked form flashes before his eyes, and he feels himself getting flustered as he lets go of you.

“Have a good day, Mr. Abbott. And thank you for your help.”

“Anytime, Miss Miller. Anytime.”

And with that, you drive away, but don’t get very far. The town folk keep stopping you, wanting to say hello to the newcomer. Rhett walks back to Royal and Perry, almost done loading goods into the wagon. They all look towards you and Rhett sighs heavily.

“She’s a pretty little thing.”

A bag of barley hits his chest and makes him stumble backwards, pulling him out his little daydream. When he looks at his father, Royal looks annoyed, his brows pulled into a frown.

“Don’t even think about it, Rhett. She’s a respectable woman.”

Rhett throws the barley onto the wagon, shooting you a quick glance before turning back to his father, trying to seem indifferent.

“Don’t worry, Pa. I wasn’t gonna.”

“Like you’ve ever kept your word when it comes to a woman.” Perry counters, clearly amused. Rhett jabs at Perry’s chest, which only makes Perry laugh louder. He’s telling the truth, but the words hurt nonetheless. Hurt that even his family would think so little of him, how could he ever hope anyone else would think otherwise?

“Shut your mouth, Per.”

Perry just shakes his head as he continues to load the goods onto the wagon. As Rhett picks up the last bag of flour, he looks up to find you looking at him from your seat in the wagon. He hopes to God you didn’t hear any of their banter. You’d hear soon enough about his reputation. But he sure hoped you wouldn’t believe every word. He didn’t stand a chance with a gal like you, but he could always dream.

A whole two weeks had gone by since Rhett had last seen you. He had tried to push you out of his head, but to no avail. You occupied his thoughts during the day, making the chores easier to get done. You had also occupied his thoughts at night. Shamefully he’d fisted his cock at the thought of you more times than he could count, your bright smile and kind eyes haunting his every waking hour.

He didn’t even know you, yet you were all he could think about. He’d heard girls in town talk about love at first sight and he had always thought they were crazy. But maybe there was something to it?

“Daddy, you gotta take me to school.”

Amy’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts. This is exactly the opportunity he’s been looking for. A way for him to see you again.

“I can take you.”

Shocked, they all look at Rhett. He is by no means a bad uncle for Amy. Actually, he was always going out of his way to make that little girl happy. But he’s never once followed her to school. As he walks her to the door, Royal stops him with a hand on his chest.

“What are you doing, Rhett?”

“Just following Amy to school. Ain’t nothing to worry about, Pa.”

“You know… Whenever you say that you always get into trouble.”

Rhett just offers his dad a sideways smile before heading out the door, Amy in tow. All the way into town, Amy tells about what a great teacher Miss Miller is. Reaching the school and seeing you there, giving all the kids a big, bright smile, he can’t help but agree. You sure are something.

You greet Amy with equal vigour as the others, before your eyes land on Rhett. Maybe he’s just fooling himself, but it sure looks like your smile grew bigger seeing him there.

“Mr. Abbott. To what do I owe the pleasure? It’s usually your sister-in-law following Amy to school.”

“Oh, she…” he pauses, nervously rubbing his neck, “She was busy this morning.”

“It’s just because Uncle Rhett wanted to see you.” Amy says matter of factly, before running to her friends, leaving Rhett embarrassed and you flustered.

“Uhm, I… I just wanted to make sure you’ve settled alright. That you’re okay.”

It’s a poor excuse and he knows a smart girl like you will see right through it. Luckily, you don’t seem to mind. Hell, it even looks like you might be a little flattered.

“Well, I’m honoured, Mr. Abbott. I feel better knowing I have someone like yourself watching over me.”

Another parent is dropping off their son, demanding your attention. You offer Rhett a good day, before turning towards the school. Knowing he shouldn’t, he still takes a step forward and stops you gently, his fingers brushing against your arm. You turn to look at him once more.

“Miss Miller? If there’s ever anything I can do for you, please let me know.”

Everything in him hopes you’ll take him up on his offer. That maybe he can prove to you that he is a good man and that maybe he could be worthy of someone like you.

“I don’t think your wife would take too kindly to you helping out other women.” you say, as you take a step closer to him, fidgeting with the book in your hand.

“I don’t have a wife.” he answers softly with a faint smile, before tipping his hat and leaving. Straddling his horse, he finds you still looking at him with a shy smile.

“Have a good day, Miss Miller. I look forward to seeing you again.”

Thank you so much for reading <3

Tagging: @loverhymeswith @a-reader-and-a-writer @wildbornsiren @chasingdreamer @milestellussy @lucy-sky @fictionalhaven @andshivroytoo @green-socks @yespolkadotkitty @callsign-phoenix @hederasgarden @crazy-bi-btch @mayhem24-7forever @lorecraft

And tagging a few lewis girls that like Bob, so maybe you'll like Rhett too: @autumnleaves1991-reads @joalsglasses @paintballkid711 @weasleywinchester @tipsykeen @lluckpng @levylovegood @weakling-grace @reveluving

#rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott x abigail miller #rhett abbott fanfiction #outer range fanfiction #lewis pullman fanfiction

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juleskelleybooks · 5 months

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I shut down my Patreon a while back because updating something on a regular schedule is kind of the antithesis of me as a person

but I'm having so much fun working on the worldbuilding and early parts of Blackthorn that I'm being seduced by the siren song of the idea: what if I put updates of the rough draft of Blackthorn behind a paywall on Patreon and people could read along as I wrote it but then I could still publish the whole novel when it was ready (and Patreon subscribers would get a free download of the ebook)

idk idk - would anyone be interested in this, even? (caveat: I know Patreon has made some changes since the last time I was there so if it's become unusable now, feel free to chime in and tell me what a good alternative is for a paid subscription like this)

Opening behind the cut to give you an idea of what the rough draft currently looks like.

Nate Dubarr hadn’t been around horses much, but even he could tell the team’s demeanor was changing as they approached a narrow stretch of road lined on either side by shrubby, stout trees frothing with white blossoms. Was it just the wind in the branches that had the animals spooked, or did they sense something he couldn’t hear yet? He adjusted his grip on the proton rifle in his lap and looked over his shoulder. It was a damn good place to ambush a vulnerable transport, and Sun Mountain probably wouldn’t have paid for his services as a gunman if they weren’t needed.

“Hear somethin’?” Willa, the driver, shouted over dusty plodding hoofbeats and the rattling creak of the wooden transport pod, and Nate shook his head.

“Not yet,” he yelled back, squinting into the rippling heat.

Aulis was mostly a farming and ranching planet, he knew, some areas thickly wooded and others rich with sprawling grass prairies, but the part he was riding through now, toward the little town of Blackthorn, was arid enough that he could feel his skin cracking and peeling as they went.

“Nothin’ grows here anymore,” the customs officer in Pryor had said as she looked over the crates marked for Blackthorn. “Probably why they’re tryin’ so hard to get that mine back in working shape out past the canyons. They’ll sure be happy to see y’all.”

Willa clucked gently to the horses, pulling up on the reins, and Nate braced himself on the warm wood of the transport pod. He hadn’t understood at first why they weren’t using one of the self-driving metal ones, but the heat and the dust had answered that question for him in the first half-hour. The gears would have gotten locked up in short order, if the metal hadn’t cooked them in their seats first.

The team of horses slowed now, snorting and blowing and tossing their heads, and Nate realized they were picking their way carefully over wooden bars embedded parallel to each other across the road.

“What’s that?” he asked Willa, alert to the possibility of a trap. Would it fall out from under them, taking the pod and the horses all at once?

“Cattle grate,” Willa muttered, her wrinkled, leathery hands steady on the reins as she coaxed the team slower. “Coupla ranches used to keep herds out here and would move ’em to different pastures on this road. The grate was to keep them from stampeding. The blackthorns were to keep them from just going around it.” She inclined her head toward the flowering trees, and Nate squinted, realizing the blooms hid the trees’ real feature: Thick, sharp spines as long as his hand.

“How do you keep cattle where there’s nothing for them to graze?” Nate asked, but before Willa could answer, there was a high-pitched buzz from behind them, and one of the horses tossed its head, eyes rolling so far Nate could see the whites. Fuck. It was a trap.

“Steady,” Willa crooned to the horses. “Don’t want them bolting,” she explained to Nate. “They’ll break their damn legs and then we’ll just be out here ’til the buzzards or the bandits get us.”

Nate lifted the proton rifle as he turned to look back down the road they’d already traveled, siting down the barrel, and fitted his goggles to keep his eyes clear.

He didn’t see anything yet, but the buzzing was getting closer, and he recognized it as the whine of a bike’s engine. Shit. It was a trap.

#tumblr isn't letting me format italics on this post for some reason so sorry about that #interest check

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naturalrights-retard · 1 year

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AWisconsin-based law firm is demanding communication records from a local school district that allegedly allowed an 18-year-old transgender-identifying male to shower naked in the girls’ locker room in front of four female students.

In an April 19 letter addressed to the Sun Prairie Area School District (SPASD), the Wisconsin Institute for Law and Liberty (WILL) filed an open records request for any and all communications related to an incident last month at Sun Prairie East High School (EHS), in which an 18-year-old male student, who claims to be a woman, purportedly showered unclothed in the girl’s school locker room in the presence of four female, freshmen students.

“We have concerns, and we have questions … Is this school district meeting their [Title IX] obligations under the existing federal law, and what policies are in effect right now?” Libby Sobic, WILL’s director of education policy, told The Federalist. “The school administration is not making that clear.”

Sun Prairie, a Madison suburb, is located in the deep-blue enclave of Dane County.

The incident in question allegedly occurred on March 3, when the four aforementioned female students participated in a swim unit as part of their physical education class. After finishing the course, the four female freshmen entered the EHS girl’s locker room and noticed a senior male student — who was not in the physical education class the girls participated in — near the facility’s lockers and benches. According to WILL, the girls “were surprised to see him in the locker room” but had “a general idea that this student identifies as transgender and has used girls’ bathrooms before.”

While uncomfortable, the girls purportedly did not interact with the male student and proceeded to the shower area with their swimsuits on. While the girls rinsed off, the female-identifying senior approached them, allegedly announced, “I’m trans, by the way,” and “undressed fully and showered completely naked right next to one of the girls.” While initially facing the wall, the male student “eventually turned and fully exposed his male genitalia to the four girls,” at which point the female students quickly left the facility.

After hearing about the incident from one of the girls, a fellow student reported the disturbance to EHS’s student services on March 6. At that point, EHS Associate Principal Heidi Walter purportedly asked the student for the names of the girls involved, “but the other student wanted to get permission from the girls first.” According to WILL, “[t]here is no indication anyone at EHS took any action at that time.”

While the aforementioned student allegedly attended a meeting four days later to provide Walter with the girls’ names, Walter, according to WILL, “told her that instead the girls can approach her if they wanted.” Walter later admitted she should have “dug deeper” into the incident at the time.

“Title IX requires school districts to do certain things when incidents of sexual harassment are brought to their attention. So, this includes providing resources to the victims, offering support,” Sobic said. “It also requires them to have clear policies on what is appropriate and what’s not, and it requires them to have a Title IX coordinator who’s supposed to make sure that these things are implemented. But when this incident was brought to the attention of the school administrators, they failed to do any of those steps.”

WILL’s letter goes on to detail communications between the mother of one of the female victims and EHS Principal Renee Coleman, who called to apologize but also claimed that SPASD policies “address this situation and that she would have to speak with District staff who knew the details.” According to WILL, however, no official district “policy” was identified, and “no Title IX rights were mentioned.”

An in-person meeting regarding the March 3 locker room incident purportedly didn’t occur until April 5. And at this time, district officials did not identify or describe the district’s official policy regarding such matters.

In an April 10 response email to a concerned parent, Coleman attached a document titled “Restroom and Locker Room Accessibility Guidance,” which stipulates that students who identify as gender expansive, transgender, or nonbinary are allowed to use the restroom “in accordance with the student’s gender identity that the student regularly asserts at school and in other social environments.” According to WILL, there is no evidence to indicate such a policy “has ever been in effect, was in effect on March 3,” or was approved by the district’s school board.

SPASD has since publicly disputed WILL’s characterization of the March 3 incident.

Earlier this month, the Biden administration proposed new Title IX rules that seek to prohibit schools receiving federal funds from enforcing policies preventing men from competing in women’s sports. As The Federalist’s Jordan Boyd previously reported, the proposal’s goal is to kneecap legislation passed by more than 20 states designed to protect female spaces “on and off the field,” meaning women’s sports and locker rooms would be available to female-identifying men.

While speaking with The Federalist, Sobic noted how the EHS incident is “a really important lesson for school districts around the country,” and that such incidents will likely continue to occur as the Biden administration tries “to make changes to Title IX and the definition of sex.”

“Title IX has been around for 50 years and was designed to protect young women and girls in educational environments and by making changes to that law … these are going to be the consequences,” she said. “We want school districts to hold public hearings. We want them to have conversations with their communities about what should their policies look like, how [they] can ensure that all students know what the rules are, and how [they can] ensure that there are policies in place to protect students from instances of sexual harassment.”

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theworldoffostering · 2 years

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I’m going to give a detailed account of our trip. If you’re not interested in reading about our five week tent excursion, please feel free to skip.

Days 1 & 2:

We started with a tour of Winona State University in Minnesota, and then camped two nights at Whitewater State Park. My college roommate/best friend lives in the Twin Cities, and some of her kids also did the college tour, and they camped with us the first night which was a great way to kick off our adventure.

Days 3 & 4:

We camped at Palisades State Park in eastern South Dakota. That park is so beautiful. We went to a ranger talk about fireflies which was given by a college student and well done. We also did a Charlie Brown movie night sponsored by the park where we indulged in $.25 popsicles and popcorn.

Days 5-7:

We drove to Custer State Park. We did the obligatory stops at the Corn Palace and Wall Drug along the way. At Custer we hiked Sylvan Lake and Cathedral Spires. We also drove the wildlife loop and saw bison, big horned sheep, and lots of prairie dogs.

Days 8 & 9:

We stayed at the KOA in Cody, WY. It’s not very impressive for tent campers. There is ZERO shelter, and we nearly lost our tent in a storm. Thankfully, it stayed intact, but we spent a couple of hours bailing out water. However, it does have a pool which was a hit with the kids. They also offer a free pancake breakfast which was a nice reprieve from cooking.

While in Cody we went to the rodeo (kids loved it), ate really good pizza at a local place, and it is where Ms. 6 took a fall and hurt her knee to the point that she will need an MRI in the next week or two.

Days 10 & 11:

We drove into Yellowstone National Park via the west entrance. The drive from Cody was phenomenal! We saw bison and had lunch next to Yellowstone Lake. Last year we didn’t see the lake at all except for driving by it. I really wanted to spend some time on it this year. Lunch was perfect!

The next day we went back to the lake and did a short hike. Then we went to Old Faithful. I took Ms. 6 to the clinic there to have her knee looked at. We watched Old Faithful erupt, and we got to see the visitor center there and see the Old Faithful Inn which is beautiful. I had not been to either of those spots before despite watching Old Faithful erupt before. We also saw elk on our drive back to our campsite.

We stayed at Grant Campground.

Days 12-17:

We drove out of the west entrance of Yellowstone and headed north to Glacier National Park. We camped at Apgar there. On the drive, we saw several moose and my first bear! I was thrilled!

Apgar Campground is basically located on Lake McDonald which was cold! Every body of water at Glacier was cold! It was a long drive to get there so that first night we basically set up camp, ate dinner, and went to bed.

We hiked Rocky Point Trail, Trail of the Cedars, and Avalanche Lake. We also went to Polebridge and ate the most amazing huckleberry bear claws at The Mercantile. We drove to Bowman Lake and hiked a meadow trail at Polebridge.

The Going to the Sun Road opened while we were there (it was mid-July), and I’m so glad we got to experience driving it. The day we drove it, it was cold and rainy so a good day for it as we would not have been hiking. The views were incredible. We saw our first and only mountain goat on the trip, and two bears! They still had snow in areas, and although it took us the bulk of the day, we still had fun (kids were done though).

Two cousins of mine (siblings but they live in different states from each other and us) were in the park at the same time along with my uncle, and we happened upon them while they were eating dinner one night which was super fun because we did not have cell service to make a connection while there.

Our last night in the area we stayed at the KOA in West Glacier. That KOA is pretty nice, but the day was cold and rainy so we couldn’t take advantage of the pool. We mostly did laundry. I ended up getting a UTI. Ugh. So grateful we had some antibiotics on hand.

Day 18:

We drove to Spokane, WA and stayed in a hotel. The Hampton Inn has never felt so luxurious! Showers and beds for everyone! They had a pool too and we loved spending some time in there before bed.

Day 19:

We drove to Olympia, WA and celebrated DD’s birthday. We did Starbucks, the three older kids saw a movie, and then we went to Chipotle for lunch before heading to Olympic National Park.

Days 20-25:

Olympic National Park. I’m convinced I’d never survive in the PNW. It was 59-61 degrees every day and socked in with clouds most of the time we were there. I knew it would be cold, but didn’t expect it to be that cold (weather app said it would be about ten degrees warmer for the week). The wildlife was amazing, but we actually left one day early because we just couldn’t handle being cold, wet, and without sunshine.

Day 26:

Drove to Cannon Beach! That was one of my favorite afternoons! 70, sunny, tide was going out. I wish we would have caught the sunset. We had seafood for dinner along the shore before driving into Portland for the night. I got to see Mt Hood from a distance.

Day 27:

Portland! We went to the original Voodoo Doughnuts! Then we met up with my cousin who lives there, his wife, and my aunt and uncle who were visiting from NY. We ended up going to the Washington County Fair. My uncle treated all the kids to wristbands for the rides and an epic afternoon was had.

Day 28:

We drove to Sisters, OR. We pitched our tent in the backyard of a longtime friend of DH’s who graciously fed all of us too.

Day 29:

We drove to Idaho Falls, ID and camped at the KOA which backs up to a farm field. We really just needed a place to sleep. This fit the bill.

Days 30-37:

We drove to Grand Tetons National Park. We camped at Colter Bay. I really like it there because they have showers and laundry and that’s nice when you have kids and just need to clean up.

Colter Bay is on Jackson Lake which is part of the charm, but I was super disappointed to see that the lake is very low due to Idaho’s water needs. The marina at the campground wasn’t open due to such low water levels.

Grand Tetons was one of my favorite parts of the trip because we did some excellent hiking and saw so much wildlife which I was not expecting. We hiked Moose Pond, Phelps Lake (and DH did the cliff dive after hiking out to it), Taggart Lake, Bradley Lake, and Jackson Lake. We also did the scenic drive to Signal Mountain.

Days 38 & 39:

Allllll of the driving home.

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plumbersgrandprairietx · 9 months

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plumbinggrandprairietexa · 9 months

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greer-morgan · 9 months

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Family Ties | Self-Para

“It's just there's so much of it. The future is real, but... the past, well it's... all made up.”

Time: February

Place: District Ten (the funeral of Prairie Quartz)

Greer flicked open Prairie's knife, which was tucked at the bottom of the pocket of her long black coat. She ran her thumb along the blade and folded it closed again, before starting the process over in a steady rhythm. She'd nicked the pad of her thumb this same way at least a dozen times by now, so often that she knew there would be a scar there when she finally let it heal over.

It was an unseasonably mild day, almost pleasant. Greer was caught somewhere between grateful that Prairie had gotten a nice day and angry at the sun just for having the audacity to shine. But despite the sun, everything was still and stark, and bare. February seemed to be dipping her toe into spring for just a moment, ready to pull it back out again without warning. The threat of cold made all of the red and white flowers pop against the scenery and the new quartz headstone, freshly placed into hard earth.

They'd all stood in small groups for the memorial— a few peacekeepers, The Morgans, Greer by herself, Prairie's father by himself to give a speech— none of them brave enough to cry in front of the others. That vulnerability was a currency too valuable for any of them to be willing to exchange with the others. But it had been a nice service, Greer wished she could think as she walked away.

"Hey! hey, Greer wait up." Greer's brother jogged up behind her.

"What?" She tossed over her shoulder, almost deciding not to stop.

"I've... I've been thinkin'. There's a lot'a talk about what's goin' on in Eleven, and people are gettin' organized in Ten too. I've been thinkin' about helpin' out."

Greer laughed sharply, which cast a shadow of hurt over Cal’s features. "What's funny about that? I wanna make somethin’ happen. I thought you of all people’d be all about it."

"Why would I give a shit?" Greer turned to face him, settling under the low, twisted branches of a bare tree. She was tempted to lean against the trunk, already exhausted by both the day and the impending conversation, but she thought better of giving up whatever physical space she could command.

"'Cause shit's gonna be different. People are talkin' about endin' the Games, G. Don't you want that?" He answered her, a child-like optimism to his voice.

"Yeah, of course I- fuck, Cal... I guess-"

"You guess what?" He cut her off.

"I guess I just don't fuckin' believe you. You're not gonna get involved. You're not gonna risk your career, the money you get from dad. You're gonna what? Start swingin' a gun around? Killin' peacekeepers? There's a fat fuckin' chance of that. You? Who's so afraid of causin' a scene? Who'd never say one bad word against dad? Yeah, you're the real face of a rebellion, Cal."

"Oh, unlike you, who only knows how to cause a scene?"

"What's that mean?"

"You know exactly what it means. You love to yell and complain about everythin'. Oh, look at me. I'm the only one who's ever had a sad fuckin' feelin'. You won the Games and you just went and cut us all off? Why? For the drama of it?"

"I did not! I did not cut you all off!" The words ripped themselves from her throat with such force it was almost sore. Her skin grew hot with the frustration that no matter how loud her voice got, she was never heard. "I cut mom and dad off. I did not cut you off! It's not like any of y'all ever thought to call me either. That shit goes two ways."

"What the fuck happened to us, G? We used to be so close, and then one day you were like a whole different person."

"Sorry, I had some other shit goin' on."

"I'm not talkin' about the Games, and you know it. It was way before that. We used to do everything together, and now you're like this cold bitch I don't even recognize."

"It’s ‘cause I was the only one who ever got in trouble for any of it."

"Oh, yup. There it is," Cal rolled his eyes. "You remember things so much worse than they really were. You make everythin’ out to be the end of the damn world."

"I do not remember them worse. You just never got in trouble for anythin'! I stood in that damn corner starin' at a fuckin' wall for hours-"

"It was not hours."

"It was hours."

"It was maybe thirty minutes."

"It was hours. And it's not just that,” she breathed. “It's all the other shit too— the manipulative shit they’re always doin’. The time they took my bedroom door off the hinges? I still don't know what fuckin' for. Or all the times mom and dad pretended I wasn't even there. You didn't have to beg them to look at you on fuckin' Hearth Day, Cal! That house was a fuckin' prison, but it never affected you, 'cause you're mom and dad's perfect boy."

"It wasn't always easy for me either. Dad didn't hit you the way he hit me. It sucked sometimes, but he made me fuckin' tough, Greer."

"Yeah, real tough. Filin' paperwork and livin' off dad's money. You think he's gonna buy you nice things when you run off to play rebel?" They both knew from the start he was never really going to do it, but this was beyond that now. This was a lifetime of resentment boiling over, and neither was willing to cut the heat.

"Me? Look at you! It's real easy to be high and mighty, cuttin' off dad's money when you're bein' funded by the president. I don't see you strugglin' to make ends meet."

"You think I wanted this? Any of this? I should've died, but instead I played their stupid little game and did exactly what they all fuckin’ wanted from me— start to finish— and I get to live with that every day. Prairie's dead, and I couldn't bring her or anyone else home, and I get to live with that too. I should've died, and mom and dad don't give a single shit as long as it fits into their narrative, and they don't give a shit about your life, or Leighton, or Teeny, or Avery-Kate either. I hate to be the one to say it, but mom and dad don't actually give a shit if you're even alive, Cal. They never have. They never will."

"That's not true," Cal protested, even though a part of him knew it was. "Dad tells us all the time how you leavin' broke his heart."

"Yeah, well..." She shook her head. "Funny how he cares now. Could'a cared any time in the last twenty-four years. But I guess that’s the kinda thing that’s easier to say than do, ‘cause you only gotta say it when it makes you look good. No fuckin' follow through. Sorta like your whole rebel idea, huh?"

All that anger had fizzled into nothing but silence between them now. Silence that lasted too long. Silence that made Greer's chest ache. There was nothing left to say.

"I'll see you at the next one of these," Greer concluded, already walking away, tossing a half-hearted wave over her shoulder at him.

"Yeah," he answered her, more under his breath than out loud. “See ya then, I guess.”

#self harm tw #very light mention if you squint #abuse tw #death tw #it's general bad vibes okay but not too bad #also this is long af but I promise it's mostly just dialogue #self para #ah133 #133

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