#the first time was whooping cough and the next few were all very major life stressors like my cat dying right after i started uni | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

myonechicagoworld · 3 years

Text

CHICAGO FIRE – LET HER GO (S01E23)

[TW: Blood]

Christopher Herrmann: We were scheduled to open our bar after

next shift. And in light of what happened,

we were gonna push it. But… me and

Dawson and Otis… We talked about it,

and instead, we’re gonna make it a

celebration of Hallie’s life. All the

proceeds for tonight will be donated in

her name to Children’s Memorial.

Thanks.

Chief Boden: Not an easy day. Not for any of us. Lieutenant Casey

is meeting with detectives from CPD. Arson

investigators are at the clinic right now. All we can do

for Matt is be there the best we can.

cutscene

[traffic]

[background chatter]

Matt Casey: Hey. Lieutenant Casey. I’m here to see Detective

Dawson.

Man 1 (Sergeant Pruitt): [laughs] We got a fireman in the house.

Look at him, well-rested and fed. Must be

nice being a fireman, washing fire trucks…

Detective (Julia Willhite): Sarge, Sarge. The DOA from the clinic

fire, Lieutenant Casey was her boyfriend.

Man 1 (Sergeant Pruitt): Ah. That’s my bad.

Detective (Julia Willhite): Detective Julie Willhite. Intelligence.

I’ll take you upstairs?

Matt Casey: All right, yeah.

Antonio Dawson: Those two guys we flipped had scrips all over

‘em.

I’m so sorry, man.

Matt Casey: Thanks. So, where are we at?

Hank Voight: I just got off the phone…

Matt Casey: I don’t deal with you. I deal with Antonio.

Antonio Dawson: ME report came in. Hallie was struck in the back

of the head and killed before the fire started.

Surveillance Tech: (over radio) Units in 21, foot man on Taylor

Street. Just confirmed sighting of your silver

Magnum. 1400 block of West Taylor.

Antonio Dawson: That’s the car that fled the clinic fire.

[sirens wailing]

Officer (Nicole Sermons): (over radio) This is 2121.

(into radio) Silver Magnum’s been

located going East on Taylor.

We’re not on Taylor.

Officer (Jim Barnes): I know.

[tires screeching]

[siren whoops]

[tires revving]

[horn honking]

Officer (Nicole Sermons): (into radio) Blocked on Racine. They

bailed out! We’re in pursuit.

Man 2: [grunts]

[dog barking]

Officer (Jim Barnes): [heavy breathing]

Man 2: Aah!

Officer (Jim Barnes): Seriously?

[tires screeching]

[horn honking]

[tires screeching]

[horn honking]

Man 3: [grunts]

Ahhh!

Officer (Nicole Sermons): Stay down!

Man 3: [groans and coughs]

Officer (Nicole Sermons): Aw, please.

[taser buzzes]

Man 3: [groans]

Officer (Nicole Sermons): [panting]

Officer (Jim Barnes): You good?

Man 3: [groans]

Officer (Nicole Sermons): [panting/out of breath]

[indistinct radio chatter]

[car doors shutting]

cutscene

Antonio Dawson: What do we got?

Officer (Nicole Sermons): A couple of oxy heads; a handful of

priors for armed robbery, mostly around

UIC. They’re saying they knew the car

was hot, but they bought it from a black

male for 500 and were gonna use it for a

couple days to do some stickups and

then dump it.

Man 3: [groaning]

Officer (Nicole Sermons): He resisted.

Man 3: She kicked me in the balls.

Antonio Dawson: Cry me a river!

Officer (Jim Barnes): They’re denying any involvement in the clinic.

There’s no arson or bodily harm on either of

their records.

Antonio Dawson: Who’s the brains of the outfit?

Officer (Jim Barnes): That guy.

Antonio Dawson: Bring him over here!

Who’d you buy the car from?

Man 2: Black dude named Shorty.

Hank Voight: Oh. Shorty.

Man 2: Shorty.

Antonio Dawson: Get him outta here.

Officer (Jim Barnes): Come on.

Detective (Julia Willhite): [exhales]

[knocking on body of car]

Detective (Julia Willhite): Looks like a lot of cars we’d find in

Narcotics. Generic dummy plates. A lot

of ‘em have traps built in to move the

dope and cash.

Okay.

There we go.

[sighs]

Matt Casey: So what does this mean? Who are we looking for?

Detective (Julia Willhite): Someone who was moving major

dope.

- title screen -

Leslie Shay: Hey. Hey.

Kelly Severide: Hey.

Leslie Shay: Um, on the heels of all this, I was thinking that, you

know, God forbids something were to happen to

either one of us, that maybe we should have

something written up legally in terms of who would

take care of the baby.

Kelly Severide: Absolutely.

Leslie Shay: And speaking of, we go in tomorrow.

Chief Boden: Casey’s heading back down to the fire scene with the

detectives.

Kelly Severide: I’m coming. And I’ll… I’ll be there.

Leslie Shay: Yeah.

cutscene

Gabby Dawson: That’s so nice of you. Thank you. Bye.

The Optical shop on the corner is gonna donate a

couple pairs of sunglasses to raffle off.

Otis Zvonecek: Great. As soon as Zoya starts, she can help go

collect all this stuff.

Christopher Herrmann: Who?

Otis Zvonecek: Uh, my cousin. From Russia? Zoya?

We talked about this.

Christopher Herrmann: When?

Otis Zvonecek: At the soft opening?

Christopher Herrmann: What? When I got like six beers in me?

Otis Zvonecek: Hey, you signed off, dude.

Christopher Herrmann: Do you know anything about this?

Gabby Dawson: First I’ve heard of it.

Otis Zvonecek: Okay, uh, she’s here on a six month work visa. But

apparently, the nanny job was killing her. She’s nice,

she’s cute, she’s got restaurant experience, and you

agreed to it.

Christopher Herrmann: What kind of restaurant?

Gabby Dawson: Who cares? It’s fine. She’s in. We got funds to

raise.

Christopher Herrmann: You guys are killing me.

Otis Zvonecek: Ah, you’ll love her.

cutscene

Arson Investigator: It’s what we know so far.

Chief Boden: Thank you very much.

Arson Investigator: Sure, Chief.

Kelly Severide: How you holdin’ up?

[indistinct radio chatter]

Matt Casey: Best I can.

Chief Boden: There’s no security video. Two of the cameras were

fake. The other had no database. Arson is saying it

don’t look like a break-in.

Detective (Julia Willhite): Same director of this clinic runs another

over on Wabash.

Hank Voight: Let’s take a look. Thanks, Chief.

Chief Boden: This is the ignition point.

Detective (Julia Willhite): Patient prescription records.

Matt Casey: Actually… Hallie… right before we went to lunch, she

was standing there looking at something and-and she

said, “that’s weird.” I just figured it was about billing or

something.

Dispatcher: (over radio) Main to Battalion 25, Truck 81, Squad 3,

and Ambulance 61, responding…

Chief Boden: No, no, no.

Dispatcher: (over radio)…to civilian in distress…[continues

indistinctly]

Chief Boden: Your head’s not in the game right now. I’ll cover for

you.

Detective (Julia Willhite): He can roll with us.

Chief Boden: (into radio) Battalion 25 en route.

Dispatcher: (over radio) Copy that, 25.

Hank Voight: Not a problem.

cutscene

[sirens wailing]

Delivery Man: I swear I heard screaming down there.

[running water splashing]

Victim 1: Help!

Kelly Severide: Get your lights!

[grunts]

Victim 1: Here!

Chief Boden: Voice came from over there. Watch yourself. Water’s

moving fast.

Kelly Severide: Chief, down there!

Victim 1: I don’t think I can hold on much longer!

Kelly Severide: Hang on. We’re gonna get you out.

Chief Boden: Get your webbing out. Secure it to this handle.

I’ll hold the line.

Victim 1: [cries]

Kelly Severide: Don’t let go.

[water splashing]

Chief Boden: Be careful. Watch that current.

Kelly Severide: I got you.

Victim 1: Can’t move!

Chief Boden: Talk to me, Kelly.

Kelly Severide: Chief! Both her feet are sucked into a drain.

Chief Boden: (into radio) We got one victim pinned in. I’m gonna

need rescue rope and scuba gear in the west end of

the tunnel right now.

Coming in.

Victim 1: Something’s cutting my leg [groans]

Kelly Severide: Chief. Suction’s trapping debris at her feet.

Chief Boden: I got her.

Kelly Severide: I gotta dive down, get you clear.

Victim 1: [whimpers] Please… please don’t let me die down here.

Please

Chief Boden: I got you.

Come on!

Victim 1: [cries]

Christopher Herrmann: They’re over here!

[coughing]

Kelly Severide: Got some clear, but I need more time.

Chief Boden: We don’t have it.

Harold Capp: Severide!

Chief Boden: We need the scuba gear over here now.

Firefighter: Here you go, Chief.

Kelly Severide: I got it! Get my mask!

Chief Boden: Hey, I’m gonna put this mask over your face. It’s

gonna help you breathe under the water.

Victim 1: [whimpers]

Christopher Herrmann: Wait right there, just hold still. You got air?

Chief Boden: Get it on… whoa, whoa, whoa!

Firefighter: She’s going under!

Can’t see her!

Christopher Herrmann: You got her, Chief?

Chief Boden: I got her. I got her.

Joe Cruz: The water level’s rising.

Kelly Severide: Hey, hey. I got the debris clear, but the suction’s

keeping her down. We need to pull her up.

Chief Boden: Get the webbing on now.

Christopher Herrmann: [starts indistinctly]… under her arm.

Kelly Severide: I need more light.

Christopher Herrmann: Severide, feed that under her arm.

Watch the mask… you got her, Chief?

Christopher Herrmann: She’s ready to go.

Kelly Severide: Easy, easy.

Christopher Herrmann: Grab the webbing! Hang on.

Chief Boden: Ready? One, two… pull!

Watch her head.

[overlapping yelling]

Kelly Severide: Grab her legs.

Christopher Herrmann: You got her?

Watch the tank.

Joe Cruz: I got it, Chief.

Victim 1: [coughs]

Christopher Herrmann: You okay, kid? Look at me. Sucking down

that river, huh?

Okay, we got you, girl. Let’s go!

You good, Chief?

Chief Boden: We’re good!

Kelly Severide: Nice work.

Chief Boden: Good job. Let’s get the hell out of here.

cutscene

Antonio Dawson: Do you recognise either one?

Man 4 (Steven Goody): I’ve never seen them before.

Antonio Dawson: Any problems with anyone at the clinic?

Man (Steven Goody): Not with our employees. Everybody works,

and volunteers are here because they care.

They-they wanna give back.

Antonio Dawson: Patients?

Man (Steven Goody): Let’s just say a few bad apples have walked

through that door.

Antonio Dawson: Anyone specifically?

Man (Steven Goody): Who might kill Hallie? Oh, I… I’m… I don’t

know.

Detective (Julia Willhite): Two of the security cameras were fake.

Man (Steven Goody): [sighs] I… I’m just trying to keep the doors

open. You know, it’s a lot of things I can’t

afford that I’d like to.

Detective (Julia Willhite): The fire was started near prescription

records. Our guess, someone tried to

cover up some impropriety. Those

scrips are for a hell of a lot of

Oxycontin.

Man (Steven Goody): For you, maybe. Not for someone in pain.

Antonio Dawson: Any problems with your prescription drugs? Any

missing inventory?

Man (Steven Goody): Not that I know of. We have a drug cage, and

there’s never been a problem.

Detective (Julia Willhite): Mr. Goody, we’re gonna need a list of

employees, patients…

Man (Steven Goody): And I’m gonna have to stop you right there.

We are dealing with protected health

information, uh, potential HIPAA violations,

insurance, liabilities, blah, blah, blah. It’s

gonna have to go through our legal

department.

Antonio Dawson: If your clinic was a pill mill and Hallie found out

about it and someone killed her to shut her up,

now, right now would be the time to tell us.

Man (Steven Goody): [scoffs] It-It’s not a pill mill.

[sighs] Okay, look. Um… there was this guy,

Jubal Bartlett. He was a drug dealer. His

girlfriend came in with a broken jaw. We

reported it to the police. He did not take it

kindly. He made threats.

Detective (Julia Willhite): We’ll be back.

cutscene

[TV announcer in background]

Otis Zvonecek: So, uh, Zoya, this is Herrmann and Dawson.

Christopher Herrmann: Nice to meet you.

Otis Zvonecek: Guys, this is Zoya.

Gabby Dawson: Hey, so nice to meet you.

Zoya: Hello.

[Herrmann & Zoya chuckles]

Christopher Herrmann: So Brian said that you’ve got some

restaurant experience.

Zoya: Thank you.

[speaking Russian]

Otis Zvonecek: Uh, um…

Otis Zvonecek & Zoya: [speaking Russian]

Otis Zvonecek: Uh, anyway, so I just wanna make some quick

introductions, and we will see you at the bar.

Gabby Dawson: Ooh.

Christopher Herrmann: We’ve got Yakov Smirnoff tending bar

now?

Gabby Dawson: Who’s that?

Otis Zvonecek: Um, so for the opening and the benefit, I’m pretty

sure she said she’s gonna bring a monkey

[chuckles]

Christopher Herrmann: A monkey?

Otis Zvonecek: Yep.

Gabby Dawson: Otis.

Otis Zvonecek: Look-look, it-it’s probably some sort of good luck

gesture or-or, you know, it has some sort of

cultural significance. What’s the worst that could

happen?

Gabby Dawson: Did you see the lady on Oprah who got her face

chewed off by a monkey?

Otis Zvonecek: I did see that. And if it looks like it could take us, I’ll

tell her to keep it in the car.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you [exhales]

cutscene

Antonio Dawson: I’ve got the word out to all my CIs. Nothing yet.

Detective (Julia Willhite): And none of the neighbours saw or heard

anything prior to the fire.

Antonio Dawson: Subpoena will get us employee and patient

records in a couple hours.

Hank Voight: What about the drug dealer the clinic director turned

us on to?

Antonio Dawson: Can’t find him.

Hank Voight: Can’t find him?

Antonio Dawson: Ran him through NCIC and the FBI to see if he

got pinched anywhere else.

Matt Casey: What’s this drug dealer’s name?

Hank Voight: Yeah, it’s probably best we don’t tell you. You know,

we don’t want you… doing something rash.

I understand that you and Hallie broke up before her

death. Is that right?

Matt Casey: For a few months… yeah.

Hank Voight: She see anyone in that gap?

Matt Casey: No one serious.

Hank Voight: Did she ever mention anyone that she felt

uncomfortable around? Was afraid of?

Matt Casey: Yeah. You.

Hank Voight: Lieutenant, I am sympathetic to what you’re going

through.

Matt Casey: I don’t believe that for a second.

Hank Voight: Fine. Don’t.

But I have allowed you to be here as a courtesy.

Matt Casey: Courtesy, from you? I don’t need it. I want you to find

out who killed my girl!

Antonio Dawson: Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

Matt Casey: All right?

Antonio Dawson: You gotta chill out, bro.

Matt Casey: Voight isn’t gonna lift a finger unless someone pays

him under the table.

Antonio Dawson: I got my eye on him, okay? He’s working the

case. Go back to the firehouse and cool off.

Matt Casey: No. I’m staying here.

Antonio Dawson: You’re not. Wait to hear from me.

Go on.

cutscene

Leslie Shay: Okay, there’s what would happen if both of us died…

Who would take care of the baby?

Kelly Severide: Yeah, we should figure that out.

Leslie Shay: Dawson, right?

Kelly Severide: Yeah.

Leslie Shay: Okay.

Kelly Severide: What is it?

Leslie Shay: I’m just excited.

Kelly Severide: Me too.

Leslie Shay: And part of me feels horrible ‘cause of what Casey’s

going through. Here I am with butterflies in my stomach

‘cause I’m getting ready to get pregnant, and… [sighs]

[alarm beeps & buzzes]

(Over PA): Ambulance 61. Gunshot victim.

Officer (Elam): Neighbours reported shots fired.

30-year-old female, single gunshot to the stomach.

Actually, that’s a guess. It’s hard to tell. There’s a lot

of blood.

Officer (Kevin Atwater): She was pumping out pretty good. I

applied pressure, but I don’t know what’s

going on.

Leslie Shay: It’s okay. I got it.

Not feeling anything.

[machine flatlines]

Gabby Dawson: She’s gone. I’m calling it.

(into radio) 61 to main, victim is DOA. We’re

delayed on scene while we document for CPD.

Leslie Shay: Dawson. She was a nurse at the clinic Hallie worked at.

cutscene

[indistinct radio chatter]

[car doors shut]

Gabby Dawson: Hey. What the hell’s going on?

Antonio Dawson: That’s what we’re trying to find out.

Gabby Dawson: How’s he been?

Antonio Dawson: Busy, like everybody on this case. I’ll get at you

later.

Hank Voight: Boo.

Detective (Julia Willhite): In on it?

Antonio Dawson: Or she found out who was.

Officer (Elam): Neighbour only heard the gunshot. No one on either

side saw anyone leave. But we can keep knocking

on doors.

Detective (Julia Willhite): Willhite.

Hank Voight: Do that.

Detective (Julia Willhite): Thanks.

The drug dealer, Jubal Bartlett? He’s

been locked up in Virginia Beach for the

past four days on a possession charge.

Hank Voight: I want that clinic director in the hot seat… now.

Antonio Dawson: I told his lawyer I was gonna issue an arrest

warrant for obstruction by the end of the week if

he didn’t get his client to honour the meet.

Hank Voight: Man, whoever did these two hits will be long gone by

the end of the week.

Antonio Dawson: This ain’t the Gang unit, Voight. Sarge. You can’t

do everything with a battering ram.

Hank Voight: The hell I can’t.

Antonio Dawson: Don’t worry. I got him handled.

Detective (Julia Willhite): I noticed.

cutscene

Leslie Shay: Oh my God.

Kelly Severide: What?

Leslie Shay: I just took this baby-proofing quiz. We live in a death

trap. Spiral staircase, upper floor apartment with

accessible balconies…

Kelly Severide: Are you giving birth tomorrow?

Listen, we have time to make any fixes we need.

Leslie Shay: We need a locked liquor cabinet. Remind me.

Kelly Severide: Okay.

Woman 1 (Nurse): Leslie Shay?

Leslie Shay: Hi.

Here we go.

All right.

[kissing sound]

Leslie Shay: Will you rub my belly for good luck?

Kelly Severide: [chuckles]

Leslie Shay: Just…

Kelly Severide: Relax.

Leslie Shay: All right.

Woman 1 (Nurse): You ready?

Leslie Shay: Yeah. Feeling fertile.

Woman 1 (Nurse): Feeling fertile. Okay. We’ll make sure of that.

Leslie Shay: Okay.

cutscene

Joe Cruz: A monkey?

Otis Zvonecek: Why is everybody acting like she said she’s gonna

bring a unicorn? Yes, a monkey.

Joe Cruz: Why?

Otis Zvonecek: Ask her when she gets here.

Gabby Dawson: Ask Otis to ask her. She doesn’t speak English.

Joe Cruz: Oh.

Otis Zvonecek: It’s serviceable.

Joe Cruz: [laughs]

Mouch: You gotta go White Sox.

Christopher Herrmann: No, I don’t wanna alienate half the

neighbourhood who are Cubs fans. We

gotta go with teams that we can all agree

on: The Bears, the Bulls and the

Blackhawks.

Mouch: And the fire?

Christopher Herrmann: The who?

Mouch: Soccer team. Chicago Fire.

Christopher Herrmann: Who knew?

Okay, sure, fine. Get a banner.

[chuckling]

[cell phone vibrates]

cutscene

Peter Mills: Hey. Thanks for coming.

Gabby Dawson: Of course.

Peter Mills: Um… I’ve been thinking about everything, you know?

And uh, I’m waiting for this… I guess anger to go away.

It’s not. And I’m not mad at you. But I do have to say I

wish you would’ve told me when you found out.

Gabby Dawson: Yeah, I know you do. All I can say is that I-I just felt

stuck ‘cause I didn’t wanna hurt you, and… and it

wasn’t my business.

Peter Mills: But it was your business. I was your boyfriend.

Gabby Dawson: Was?

Peter Mills: I think I need some time. Look, I respect you too much

to have you twisting in the wind, wondering where my

head’s at.

Gabby Dawson: Oh man… I mean [clears throat]

I knew this was a possibility if I told you, but…

Peter Mills: I still love you. I do. But this whole thing just… I guess

it’s just… a little deeper than I thought.

Gabby Dawson: Well you need to figure it out, Pete, one way or

another.

Peter Mills: I know.

Gabby Dawson: [sniffles] I gotta go.

Peter Mills: [sighs]

cutscene

Man 1 (Sergeant Pruitt): Uh oh, Voight’s here. Everybody hide your

wallets!

Hank Voight: Hey, what’s up, Pru?

Man 1 (Sergeant Pruitt): There it is. You gotta be the luckiest son of

a bitch I ever met. How do you walk

around all day with that horseshoe in your

ass?

Hank Voight: [laughs] Just living the dream.

Man 1 (Sergeant Pruitt): I guess you are.

Hank Voight: Yeah.

Man 1 (Sergeant Pruitt): [chuckles]

Hank Voight: Anything for me, man, in narcotics?

Man 1 (Sergeant Pruitt): [sighs] Nothing yet, man. We set a bunch

of controlled buys ups. But nothing, man.

Not even a vitamin. CIs have nothing

either. Don’t know what to tell you.

Hank Voight: Mm.

Antonio Dawson: Prints came back on that Magnum. Calvin

Jackson, goes by CJ. Extensive sheet for

dealing, including oxy.

Detective (Julia Willhite): We’re heading over to grab him up.

Hank Voight: No, no. I’ll take care of it. Great work.

[muffled rap music]

[indistinct chatter]

Man 5: [chuckles] I heard that.

[laughs] Yeah, you know it, man.

Look at this.

Hank Voight: What’s up, Mo?

Man 5 (Maurice Owens): I knew they couldn’t keep you down.

Hank Voight: Hey, man, not in this lifetime.

We got a little problem with your nephew CJ. We got

his prints on a car that booked it from that clinic fire a

few days back. Was he involved?

Man 5 (Maurice Owens): What if he was?

Hank Voight: I don’t like guessing games.

Man 5 (Maurice Owens): He was buying prescrips from some dude

who was working with a nurse inside and

the guy who ran the clinic. Next thing I

know, CJ comes back all tweaked. He

was at the clinic doing a pickup when the

place caught fire. So he bounced.

Hank Voight: The name of the dude.

Man 5 (Maurice Owens): CJ didn’t say, and I didn’t ask. He did say

that this guy ain’t right in the head. Like,

white-boy-serial-killer-crazy. Second

thing: he knows about me and you.

Hank Voight: And how would my name come up, Mo?

Man 5 (Maurice Owens): CJ told him you gave us protection. So if

you lock him up and he starts runnin’ his

trap, that ain’t good for any of us. You

know what I’m sayin’?

Hank Voight: You get CJ on the phone, and get me the name of that

guy.

Man 5 (Maurice Owens): Nah, CJ is gone. I told him to dump his

phone and clear out for a bit. You know

how I work. This is your problem now.

Five stacks. A little welcome back gift.

Antonio Dawson: [sighs]

cutscene

Leslie Shay: So you can start the college fund when, um, the baby’s

born. And it’s only like 5 dollars a month. Even if they

don’t go to college, they still get the money. So I’m not

quite sure why they call it a college fund. It’s… really,

it’s just a-a fund for when they turn 18. So… Are you

okay?

[laundry machine hums]

Gabby Dawson: Um… [sniffles]

Mills broke up with me.

Leslie Shay: Oh my God. Over the Boden thing?

Gabby Dawson: Yeah.

Leslie Shay: [sighs] What an idiot. I’m sorry, sweetie.

Gabby Dawson: [sniffles]

cutscene

[knocks on window]

Matt Casey: I was gonna call him, but then it felt like that was the

easy way out. So I drove over. And her parents were

having a dinner party. Hallie’s sister was there, her

kids, her parents’ friends, all of ‘em. It was the hardest

thing I’ve ever done in my life.

Kelly Severide: I’m so sorry, Matt.

Matt Casey: Yeah, I appreciate this.

[laughs] I needed it [sniffs]

Kelly Severide: You know, when Andy died… without even realising

it, I found myself needing to be around people

acting normal just to get my frame of reference

pull myself out of the hole I was in. So whenever

you wanna grab a smoke, or hit golf balls, or

whatever…

Chief Boden: Casey. Antonio and Detective Willhite are here for you.

Detective (Julia Willhite): We're waiting on the nurse's cell phone

records, fingerprints from her apartment.

Antonio Dawson: But we're not homicide, so we can be a little

more aggressive.

Matt Casey: Good.

Antonio Dawson: We cooked up something. You go in to the clinic

director. He knows you’re Hallie’s boyfriend,

right?

Matt Casey: Right.

Antonio Dawson: You tell him you were going through her

computer at home. She spelled out the whole

thing. She also mentioned the director was a

good guy and probably was forced into this.

Detective (Julia Willhite): And after that you don’t say a word,

‘cause he’ll either take the bait and

give us a name of his accomplice or

he won’t.

Antonio Dawson: We’ll be outside, so if anything goes sideways,

we’re right there.

Chief Boden: He’ll be wearing a wire?

Antonio Dawson: That’s right.

Chief Boden: How do we know this director isn’t the trigger man

and he pulls a gun?

Antonio Dawson: We wouldn’t be here if we thought that was a

valid scenario. But can we guarantee your

safety 100%? No.

Matt Casey: I don’t care, I’m in.

cutscene

[car door shuts]

Hank Voight: (into radio) All right, here we go. He’s walking into the

clinic.

Officer (Nicole Sermons): (into radio) This is Sermons. We’re

tucked away and standing by.

Hank Voight: [sighs]

[computer beeps]

Detective (Julia Willhite): Prints came back from the nurse’s

apartment. Timothy Campbell. Whoa.

Antonio Dawson: What?

Detective (Julia Willhite): Armed robbery, drug possession, assault

with a deadly weapon.

Matt Casey: How you doin’? I’d like to talk to Steven Goody?

Woman 2 (Receptionist): He’s in a meeting.

Matt Casey: You know when he’ll be out?

Woman 2 (Receptionist): I don’t.

[muffled male shouting]

Matt Casey: Mind if I wait until he’s done?

[gunshots]

[screaming]

Hank Voight: Go!

[siren wails]

[horns honking]

Antonio Dawson: Chicago Police! Get down!

[screaming]

Antonio Dawson: Move!

Man 6 (Timothy Campbell): [grunts]

Matt Casey: [groans]

[both men grunting]

Matt Casey: [groans]

Antonio Dawson: Casey!

[horn honking]

Antonio Dawson: Casey!

[horns honking]

[siren wails]

Antonio Dawson: Casey!

Officer (Jim Barnes): El platform.

[tires screeching]

Antonio Dawson: Police! Get down!

[screaming]

Antonio Dawson: Get down! Police!

[screaming]

Antonio Dawson: Police! Get down!

Casey!

[horns honking]

[tires screeching]

Detective (Julia Willhite): Clear, right.

[horns honking]

[overlap shouting]

[tires screeching]

Detective (Julia Willhite): Stay with it. Stay with it.

[horn honking]

Matt Casey: [grunts]

[siren wailing]

[siren whoops]

[gunshot]

[screaming]

Antonio Dawson: Freeze!

Let him go! Drop the gun, Campbell.

Man 6 (Timothy Campbell): I swear to God, I’ll blow his head off.

Antonio Dawson: Let him go.

Man 6 (Timothy Campbell): Put the gun on the ground.

Antonio Dawson: That ain’t happenin’.

Man 6 (Timothy Campbell): Put it on the ground!

Antonio Dawson: I’m not dropping my gun!

Here, look… Okay? Now you gotta do the same

for me.

Voight.

Man 6 (Timothy Campbell): Wait, you’re Voight? Thank God. Tell

them…

[gunshot]

Matt Casey: [coughing & gasping for air]

Hank Voight: (into radio) King 84-10, emergency.

Dispatcher: (over radio) King 84-10. Go with your emergency.

Hank Voight: (into radio) Shot fired by police. Roll an ambulance to

the El platform on Kinzie and Wells. Officer not hit.

Offender down. Gunshot wound to head.

Dispatcher: (over radio) Copy that, 84-10. Bus is on the way.

Antonio Dawson: Nice shot.

Gabby Dawson: And yep. He be dead.

Leslie Shay: We’ll hand it over to the ME.

Detective (Julia Willhite): Thanks.

Gabby Dawson: Any way you can get back into Vice?

Antonio Dawson: I would if I wanted to.

Officer (Nicole Sermons): You okay?

Matt Casey: Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks.

[sniffs]

cutscene

Leslie Shay: And check out those names on the sheet. See if you

like any of those.

Kelly Severide: Yeah.

Leslie Shay: Oh, I saw online that recording an agreement is also

beneficial. That way, if there’s ever a disagreement,

instead of looking at a bunch of words you can see

yourself talking to the present you and advising

yourself to behave rationally and fairly. So what do

you think? [clears throat]

Kelly Severide: Um… I think Molly’s is opening up tonight.

Leslie Shay: [laughs] Have a baby first, deal with this later?

Kelly Severide: Sounds good.

cutscene

Christopher Herrmann: Doors open in an hour. I think we got it all

covered, right?

Joe Cruz: You’re all set, man. The place looks great.

Zoya: [speaking Russian]

Otis Zvonecek: Monkey’s here.

Christopher Herrmann: Are we insured for this? I’m not even

joking.

Zoya: [speaking Russian]

Christopher Herrmann: That’s the Stanley Cup.

Otis Zvonecek: [speaking Russian]

[mimics monkey]

Zoya: [speaking Russian]

[laughs]

Otis Zvonecek & Zoya: [speaking Russian]

Otis Zvonecek: So I guess in Russian, chimpanzee and hockey

championship are this close phonetically [chuckles]

Christopher Herrmann: That’s the Stanley Cup.

cutscene

[car door shuts]

Woman 3: Hank.

Hank Voight: 5k. Guy’s name is Maurice Owens. Mid-level dealer.

It’s all in the report.

Woman 3: Strange bedfellows, huh?

This is a good start. Keep putting yourself out there as

dirty. Who knows what fish we’ll catch in the net, right?

Hank Voight: I want a receipt for the cash when you’re done with

your inventory.

Woman 3: You don’t trust me, Hank?

Hank Voight: I want it by tomorrow.

Woman 3: Keep in touch.

cutscene

[overlapping chatter]

[music]

[bottles/glasses clinking]

Mouch: Can I chug a beer out of it?

No you know what? I’m good, I’m good. Get in here.

[overlapping chatter]

Christopher Herrmann: [laughs]

Leslie Shay: Hey.

Matt Casey: Hey.

Leslie Shay: How you doing?

Matt Casey: How you doing?

Leslie Shay: I’m good.

Matt Casey: Hey.

Thanks for coming. You look great.

Girl (Sophie): Hi.

Matt Casey: How are you?

Girl (Sophie): Good.

Matt Casey: Good?

Girl (Sophie): Mmhmm.

Matt Casey: Gary, good to see you. Really.

Man 7 (Gary): Good to see you.

Matt Casey: How you doin’? Nice to see ya.

[chuckles] This the real thing?

Otis Zvonecek: Yeah.

Matt Casey: I, uh… [sniffs] one of our first dates was a…

Blackhawks-Devils game. When she told me she

knew what icing was, I knew I had a keeper.

[crowd chuckling]

Matt Casey: Yeah, this means a lot, guys…[sighs & sniffs]

And it means a lot to her, ‘cause I’m sure she’s looking

down.

To Hallie.

All: To Hallie.

[sombre music]

- end -

Definitions:

UIC = University of Illinois Chicago

Oxycontin = Brand name for a timed-release formula of oxycodone, a narcotic analgesic (medication that reduces pain). Oxycodone is an opioid medication and is highly addictive and commonly used recreationally by people who have an opioid use disorder

HIPAA = Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act (1996) is a US federal statute enacted by the 104th US Congress and signed into law by President Bill Clinton. It is a federal law that required the creation of national standards to protect sensitive patient health information from being disclosed without the patient’s consent or knowledge

Yakov Smirnoff = Ukranian-American comedian, actor and writer

CIs = Criminal Informants

Subpoena = A writ ordering a person to attend a court

NCIC = National Crime Information Center (NCIC) is a computerised index of criminal justice information (i.e. criminal record history information, fugitives, stolen properties, missing persons)

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wizardouxie · 4 years

Note

Evil Douxie AU Ash Dispersal Pattern is something I Have Not been able to stop thinking about. Just, whoever the leader is, seeing this moping emo kid working in a cafe and being like “ah. New recruit.” Douxie gets dragged along to a meeting somehow (cough Archie gently bullies him into going cough) and he picks up the guitar. For the first little while he’s grouchy and adamantly refuses to be pleasant or even civil. After he meets the old lady, his jabs start to get more friendly and 1/2

teasing and the band notices and responds in turn, until you eventually get an exchange like this: “aw, you know you love us” “...” “YOU DIDNT DENY IT” “waIT NO SHUT UP” “YOU LOVE US” etc etc and just,,, this group of college kids forcibly adopting Douxie makes me soft. How accurate would you say this is to your AU?? -M.H. Anon 2/2

VERY ACCURATE.

[ DISCLAIMER: This is... very very long. That’s all. ]

Ash Dispersal Pattern took a hard hit this year, losing their guitarist in a nasty fight after a gig. Because of that, they were forced to opt out from the Battle of the Bands. Of course then the end of the world happened three times, which also sucked.

But you know, life is too short so might as well say ‘screw it’ and find a new member right? The member that left can eat dirt for all they cared now. And so they put up flyers calling for auditions as a guitarist.

...no one shows up.

Okay so they gotta figure out a new plan. And what better place to do so than in a cafe? So here they are trying to figure out how to get a guitarist. Douxie shows up with their drinks and one of them goes “ayo what’s up!” only to receive a “tch” in response. They’re confused.

“Yo what’s his problem?”

“He’s probably having a rough day, maybe family issues?”

“I dunno man, but his hair looks sick as hell,”

And then it clicks to them. Maybe... him?

And now Douxie is surrounded by strangers that vaguely look around his age, well roughly give or take a few centuries, and he’s biting his tongue.

“I said no.” he replies firmly, backing away. He slings his jacket over his shoulder and eyes a stray black cat curled up nearby before heading on his way. Weirdos. A discussion immediately blows up among the members.

“Are you sure you wanna go with this guy? We’ve had our share of jerk guitarists,”

“Okay but can we talk about his hair? It’s so cool, I bet he has tattoos too,”

“Enough about the hair! Look this kid’s tryna play tough guy with us, but I think we can soften him up, it’ll just take some time.”

“Aight you’re the boss here, but if he screws us over, you’re taking responsibility,”

Archie overhears the conversation and smiles. These children seemed kind, and Douxie could use some normal friends. Nothing against the Arcadia gang, but they have more than enough on their plate and he can’t exactly force them to integrate the ex sorcerer into their friend group.

Douxie hates the idea. It’s stupid.

“You’ve already signed me up for two jobs and school. I don’t even need school! I have centuries worth of knowledge these mortals can’t even dream of knowing,”

“Yes, but we are trying to blend in, Douxie. And besides, I remember you used to play the lute. The guitar is quite similar I believe,”

“Arch I haven’t touched that instrument for god knows how long,”

“Have you forgotten how to play it then?”

Douxie goes quiet. Archie smiles. Well that makes his job much, much easier. He readjusts his glasses.

“I overheard their next meeting is this Thursday, and you’re going. Isn’t that convenient? You don’t work any shifts on that day. It’ll be good for you,”

“That’s what you say about everything!”

“Have I ever been wrong?”

Silence again. So Archie may have developed a talent for shutting up his familiar. He doesn’t really know if that’s a good thing, but it’s definitely frequent.

Thursday rolls in and Douxie shows up to rehearsal grudgingly. The members are surprised. He tells them not to get cozy; just wanted to try something new out. Luckily for him, the members had a backup guitar. The strings feel strange against his calloused hands but also familiar in a way. He strums a chord and a chorus of “ooooo”s fill the room.

“What? I’m competent,” he snaps. The leader raises her hand.

“Didn’t imply you weren’t.”

And so the first few weeks pass by without much conversation. Rehearsals weren’t so bad on the musical aspect; Douxie could play the guitar pretty effortlessly, much to their astonishment. They regularly complimented him even when he did things his own way rather than follow the sheet music. They rarely ever got a response though. Maybe a “hm” if they’re lucky.

Stage presence on the other hand... he was too stiff and lacked energy. Not to mention he constantly looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here. This was where the others started to get slightly ticked off.

“He’s sucking the life out of us dude, like we’re Ash Dispersal Pattern and he’s the freaking vacuum!” the drummer complained

“He doesn’t even sing with us! It’s supposed to be a group effort,” the bass player added.

“Yeah... honestly playing without a guitarist seems better than this,” the vocalist muttered quietly. Everyone looked at them and then the leader.

The leader pinches her nose. So that’s what they all thought huh? And as much as majority would usually win, this wasn’t what she wanted, to lose someone at such an early stage. What they’ve got going is not bad; it just could be better.

“Look, I get it, we’ve had a hard year and him being difficult doesn’t help us. But don’t you think he’s having it hard too? And we’ve all been there before. We’ve had our fights with parents, schools, society and he’s clearly going through it. Right now our best course of action is to just let it pass and let him approach us instead of coming on too strong.”

“Ah so that’s why we chose you as the leader,” the bass player jokes. The leader rolls her eyes.

“Can it, buttsnack.”

Miracles start occurring after the introduction of the little old lady. Douxie no longer keeps on a straight face. Rather, his eyes wonder curiously, mouth forming expressions that he’s not even conscious of. One day the drummer catches him... pouting. Now that’s an expression he didn’t think he’d get to see.

“You okay there, Hisirdoux? Something get you down?”

“The stairs,” he jokes halfheartedly.

He gets startled when he hears the drumsticks rattle against the floor. The drummer is running upstairs, yelling. And then he comes back dragging the leader who’s looking at him with concern.

“Yo Hisirdoux my dude, tell her what you told me!”

“He asked me if something got me down. I said the stairs. Thought it was funny,” the guitarist shrugs. The leader snorts.

“That’s the best you can do?” she comments smiling. Douxie returns the smile much to her surprise.

“Of course not, but do you deserve my best?” The drummer’s jaw drops. Oh snap. The leader on the other hand is very pleased. This is what she’s looking for.

Suddenly Douxie’s phone rings. He picks up while the others listen curiously. His face breaks out into a huge grin. It’s the little old lady.

“Hello love, I’ll pick you up in ten minutes, sound good? Just finishing up rehearsal,” he says softly.

The drummer wiggled his eyebrows at the leader.

“Ooooo we got a lovebird in the band!”

Douxie chokes.

“Are you okay Douxie?”

“Yeah, yeah, something came up but I’ll be there okay!” He ends the call promptly and shakes his head furiously.

“Aww Douxie’s such a cute name, why can’t we call you that?”

“FIRST OF ALL SHE IS NOT, ahem, she is not my girlfriend. That would be awkward because she is um, sixty to seventy years old,”

He doesn’t tell them that technically he is 919. The leader meanwhile, looks pointedly at the drummer who is slowly shrinking in his spot. Whoops. Bad call. Douxie looks at the clock. 5:20 pm. He starts packing up, slinging the guitar backpack over his shoulder.

But before he leaves, he surprises them one more time.

“You guys can call me Douxie or Doux too, by the way. The name is growing on me.”

Rehearsals are so much better after that. Douxie’s smiling and talking to them, performing much more animatedly and giving it his all. He still kinda jabs at them, but there’s no tension behind it.

Nowadays he practices at home instead of waiting for rehearsal. It’s a little hard to fit time what with schoolwork and shifts, but he makes it happen. Archie stares at him fondly. This was the life that Douxie needed. One with a balance between honest work and fun.

One day, Douxie brings in some takeout from the bistro. A little celebratory gift because Ash Dispersal Pattern finally got a successful gig after so long. They open up all the boxes, set out plates, napkins flying all over the place. It’s loud, chaotic, a little dirty, but it doesn’t matter to Douxie because he’s with his friends.

Wait.

“Dang Doux, you didn’t have to do all this but you did anyways. I bet you love us. don’t you?” the vocalist teased.

Douxie remains quiet. Friends. As in, people he really cares about and looks forward to spending time with. People who he wouldn’t mind spending the rest of his life with. People who he --

“--LOVES US SHUT UP OH MY GOD!” the drummer yells, taking him back to reality. He looks at them with a smile and a shrug and suddenly he’s being attacked with hugs. They’re all screaming about how he’s always been soft and loved them from the start.

And then he’s crying. Everyone starts to panic and they’re scrambling off of him, asking him if he’s okay, if what they did was too much or anything like that. He shakes his head, trying to wipe his tears. It’s just... he’s never been held like this by so many people and for so long. He was so touch starved that he didn’t know what to do with this much love and appreciation. Quite frankly it’s been so long since it felt like he was truly wanted.

He tells them it’s okay, really, he was just a little overwhelmed. But now the craving for their touch is so much stronger.

“Can you hold me again like that? Just for a bit? It was nice,” he asks timidly and they nod eagerly. Within ten minutes, they fall asleep in each other’s arms. Archie quietly pulls a blanket over them and sleeps on Douxie’s lap.

His work here is done.

#this is so long omg #but i promise it's very cute #toa #tales of arcadia #toa wizards #tales of arcadia wizards #wizards #hisirdoux casperan #hisirdoux #douxie #archie #M.H anonnie #evil douxie

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luxexhomines · 4 years

Text

An Explosive Concoction of Hope and Despair

Happy Holidays, and Happy New Year to everyone! This is a commission I recently completed for a wonderful anonymous person who had a lot of great ideas, and the final product ended up around 5k words. The clever title is also courtesy of them! Summary: Makoto gets chased around by Junko, who keeps setting off explosives in his proximity. He tries his best not to die on the night of the Tanabata Festival and at the prime of his youth. This takes place in a non-Despair AU where Junko and Mukuro’s status as Ultimate Despair Sisters are known, and they’re accepted and loved by their classmates (they don’t commit any major crimes or such). Here’s a little preview before the rest under the cut! -----

If you were to wonder what the Ultimate Luckster Makoto Naegi was up to at this very moment...well, the answer is that he’s in a world of trouble.

“Gah! Why are you doing this to me?!”

Makoto just barely dodged an explosion as he dived toward the takoyaki stand to his left, rolled and got to his knees and started running again.

If this sounds like a practiced movement, that’s because it is. Makoto’s been dodging explosions and running away from the Ultimate Despair sisters for the past half-hour: well, mostly Junko, because if Mukuro were chasing him, he would’ve already been caught, what with her military training and reflexes.

Makoto gritted his teeth and pushed through the crowd of people. It was the day of the Tanabata festival. He should be out having fun with his classmates and friends, but instead, he was stuck entertaining Junko’s antics by running for his life tonight. He’d ditched the yukata for convenience and was wearing only a plain shirt and shorts. He was starting to get pretty tired. After all, he was only a normal kid with normal athletic ability and a tiny bit of luck. He was starting to think getting into Hope’s Peak Academy was bad luck after having to fight for his life on what seemed like a monthly basis.

He stopped to catch his breath and leaned against a tent.

“Hey, are you the guy coming in for the next shift?”

Makoto starts to respond to the person coming out of the tent but gets interrupted before he can answer. Something like a heavy, hollow circle plops down on top of his sweaty face, and the inside doesn’t smell too great.

“That’s good because I’m tired of dealing with the kids. Go inside and put on the rest of the costume. I’m free for the rest of the night,” the guy says, and Makoto hears cheerful whistling as he struggles to stand to his feet. He stumbles inside the tent. He can barely see out of whatever was put on him, but he can see a mirror and it looks like he’s wearing...a teddy bear head? He sighs. Just his luck.

Wait...just his luck?

He spots the rest of the costume and puts it on. Hopefully, Junko wouldn’t recognize him in this outfit. It sure was hot in the costume, though, so it had better do its job.

Makoto toddles out of the tent. Might as well do his job while he’s dressed for it. It would help disguise him.

Or so he thought, but he didn’t predict getting run over by children. Literally. He felt like he was being slowly stomped into dust on the ground by thousands of little kid feet, and he could hear whooping above him. He’d pretty much given up until he saw a hand outstretched in front of him. He reached out, and the hand pulled him out of the mess.

“Thank you so much,” he says. Makoto thought he was going to cry from relief. But that’s when the hand that had helped him before stretched out and tugged the ear of his mascot head, and the head dropped to the floor.

It was Junko who had pulled him up, and she was smiling ecstatically, a fat, luxurious cigar wedged in between those pink lips of hers, which was drooping from its weight. It looked branded and expensive- as expected of a fashionista like Junko, Makoto supposed. Taken aback, Makoto watched open-mouthed as she took a piece of dynamite from her hand purse and stuffed it in his mouth like feeding a carrot to a horse before leaning in sultrily with the cigar still perched perfectly in her lips and touching the end of her glowing cigar to the now lit fuse to his dynamite.

Junko started walking backward, chuckling and watching as Makoto, with a red face, yanked the stick of dynamite out of his mouth frantically and chucked it as far as he could throw from civilization and ran in the opposite direction. He winced upon hearing the boom and took a look at Junko, who seemed unaffected.

Of course. She was wearing earplugs. And a rather pretty yukata, for that matter. For once, her hair wasn’t in two ponytails, but one, and she had a single Monokuma pin adorning her hair.

Makoto sighed and took off the mascot outfit, which was sticky from his sweat and uncomfortable either way. It was no help disguising himself from her. She seemed to have a sixth sense just for finding him.

He turned to walk the opposite direction, away from Junko but took no more than a few steps before coming face-to-face with her.

“Junko?! Ah!”

He started backing away. Based on all the experiences he’d been having with her involved tonight, this wasn’t going to end well for him if he stuck around.

“You scream at me like I’m a monster or something,” she says, feigning hurt. “You wound me.”

Makoto looks around for an escape, but the crowd is heavy tonight, as it is each year.

“Why do you keep trying to set explosives off near me? You’re going to kill me,” he says exasperatedly.

Junko twists a stray piece of blonde hair around her finger, looking bored.

“Uh, yeah, that’s kind of the point. What did you think I was trying to do?”

He shakes his head. There was no point in trying to reason with her. It was better for Makoto to walk away. But before he knew it, he was stopped in his tracks. Something heavy was attached to his back.

He turned to see Junko a few feet away, standing where she had been earlier. And she was slowly raising a string to her lit cigar. Makoto’s eyes followed the string. It was attached to whatever was on his back.

He didn’t have eyes on his back and didn’t know exactly what was on his back, but he had enough sense to know that whatever it was, a string attached to it being lit did not bode well for him in the least.

He sprinted over to stop her, but it was too late. She winked, and within moments, he’s sent hurtling into the night sky. Makoto grabs at the ropes attaching whatever it was to his back, and they tear surprisingly easily. Huh. Okay, note to self to try that first instead of trying to stop a despair-crazed high school girl. And for some reason, fireworks were already going on, dangerously close to him. Weren’t they supposed to be at the end of the festival? And farther away from crowds of people, so no one is hurt?

But the problem now was that he was hurtling out of the night sky. Luckily, he hadn’t flown too high before dismantling the ropes. He closed his eyes, bracing for the impact of the hard ground- but he didn’t feel anything.

Makoto opens his eyes only to see Junko’s face inches from his.

“Whoa!”

She’d caught him from the sky, and they were standing in a clearing at the festival’s entrance.

“You know, you’re heavier than you look,” she laughs and throws him aside, his tailbone hitting the hard ground. He groans and slowly gets up on his feet, rubbing his backside. Why did he feel like he was already an old man when he was just a high schooler?

“Thanks?”

“It wasn’t a compliment,” she smirks, and lights a firework with her cigar, tossing it into the sky.

So it was her, after all, who’d been setting off fireworks in the middle of the festival. He should’ve known. It was unsafe and untimely, after all. But, speaking of unsafe and untimely, a huge pile of explosives had just been carted over behind her, likely courtesy of Mukuro.

Junko didn’t even have to look behind her before she took a step back and plopped down onto the messy stacks of dynamite, a lazy smile on her lips as she puffed away at her cigar.

“W-What are you doing?!” Makoto stammered. “You’re going to blow yourself up like that! And it’ll probably hurt people at the festival too since there are so many explosives!”

Junko rolled her eyes.

“Again, that’s kind of the point of me sitting here. Way to state the obvious.”

Confused, Makoto rephrased his words.

“Weren’t you trying to blow me up?”

Junko laughed and shrugged.

“Yeah, but this is fun too. Just part of the excitement, you know?”

Something strange was swirling in those pale blue eyes of her, and Makoto had seen that look enough to know what it meant. She was enjoying the thrill of despair.

“Suit yourself, I guess,” Makoto said, backing away for what seemed like the umpteenth time of the night. “But keep me out of it.”

Junko pouted and pursed her lips.

“You’re no fun! Why don’t you come over here and sit next to me, Makoto?”

He shook his head, eyes wide, and started to turn and walk away. But before he knew it, he felt a hand on his shoulder forcefully stop him and turn him so he faced its owner once again.

“Come on, don’t be lame,” Junko sighed. “Here, take this, and this,” she said, taking her cigar out of her mouth and popping it into Makoto’s mouth, who coughed slightly from the smoke but tried not to drop it on the ground, and then Junko pushed an armful of dynamite and other varied explosives into Makoto’s arms, who automatically caught them. It was his nature to be a pushover helpful.

“Wait, what are you doing? Why are you giving me your cigar?”

Makoto tried not to drop anything, but then he realized he had a smoking cigar in his mouth, and if it happened to light any fuses, he’d be dead.

“Blow some stuff up, dude! Don’t be a drag and rain on my parade,” Junko smirked. “All you gotta do is put the end of the cigar to the fuse!”

Makoto immediately dropped all of the explosives on the ground, and they clattered against each other as they fell and rolled around.

“Why would I want to do that?!”

“It’s fun!” Junko cackled and scooped a few more sticks of dynamite back into Makoto’s arms, pushing them against his chest in a pushy manner.

Makoto threw them away from himself and took the cigar out of his mouth.

“I’m not you! I don’t enjoy blowing things up or near-death experiences,” he said exasperatedly. “Stop giving me explosives, and take your cigar back.”

Junko eyed him for a good few seconds before taking the cigar from Makoto’s fingers and putting the cigar back in her mouth.

“Ooh! Indirect kiss,” she squealed.

Makoto winced and wiped his mouth.

“That was so unnecessary,” he replied dryly, unamused.

“Unnecessary, but true!” she sings in his ear, and Junko swings an arm over his shoulder.

“Yo, take a look over there. I got it for my last birthday,” Junko says proudly, and points to a large, shadowy figure in the distance, but still rather close to the festival.

He raises his head to look at what was over there. It was rather big and towering over the trees where it’d been placed. A...Junko statue? Makoto starts to sweat. It was giving him bad vibes.

Sure enough, the real Junko had separated from him and was standing a few feet away from him, holding a TNT plunger. He tries to grab it from her, but he’s still weak in the knees after getting tossed like a salad in the air from being an unwilling participant to his little fireworks adventure.

She pushes down on the TNT plunger triumphantly and cackles as the statue bursts into pieces. Makoto breathes in sharply and watches as the festival descends into chaos.

People were running around screaming as rubble on fire fell from the skies and rained upon the festival booths, setting things on fire and destroying merchandise. Before this, no one had batted an eye at their explosives and fireworks, since it just seemed like a couple flirting weirdly, the explosives seemed fake, and fireworks were normal any way, but now that safety was severely compromised, everyone was turning to point fingers at Makoto and Junko.

But Junko could care less. She was hoping to see a piece of flaming rubble land on Makoto, who was still standing out in the open carelessly. It was then that she saw a figure grab his arm and pull him away, and she punched the booth nearby in anger. She was so close.

“Come on, Makoto. It’s not safe here,” said Kyouko.

Makoto let him be dragged away, and then took a second look at Kyouko, who had let go of him after he was now walking without her prompting.

“You’re here at the festival?”

She nodded.

“Yes, and I’ve been watching you run around like a trapped mouse.”

Makoto stopped walking in the middle of the road.

“You’ve been watching? And you didn’t say anything?”

Kyouko sighed.

“Yes. Can we keep walking? I’m not going to be lucky enough to avoid getting struck down with flaming rubble like you.”

Makoto started walking again but at a faster pace to accommodate Kyouko’s stride.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “But could you help me escape her? I just wanted to have a good time at the festival tonight, but I’m stuck trying to run away from her all night instead.”

“Run away from who?” a voice said imperiously.

Makoto turned to see Junko sitting on a rocket barely a meter away.

“Junko!” He turned to ask Kyouko for help, but the detective had already disappeared into the night. He curled his hand into a fist in irritation. Sometimes she could be so...ugh!

“Come here, Makoto,” Junko beckoned.

Makoto was about to politely refuse before he felt something hard pressing at his back. He’d never felt one pressed to his back before, but he was guessing this was a gun, probably operated by Mukuro. A chill ran down his back.

“Okay, okay, I get it! I’m coming.”

With little other choice, he walked over and climbed onto the rocket with Junko, taking a seat.

“Good boy,” Junko says, grinning and patting him on the head, ruffling his brown hair.

“I’m not a dog,” he sighs.

“You are if I say you are,” Junko says. She holds up the fuse in one hand, and in her other hand, she momentarily holds her cigar and taps it, its glowing ashes falling onto the fuse, and within moments, the two are flying into the sky.

Makoto tries to hold on, but his hands are still sweaty, and with little grip to keep him ahold, he slides off of the rocket, falling, and watches as Junko continues on, soaring through the dark night sky, the stars twinkling. The rocket exploded to reveal a firework image of the girl who’d been riding it, who winked- seemingly at Makoto himself -and then blew a firework smoke ring into the sky. He couldn’t help but smile a little at her fireworks, so utterly Junko-like--but such an endearing moment was quickly interrupted by the leftover bits of the fireworks dropping into a ring of fire around him into the ground.

He scoots away from the fire as he sat in the dirt in the forest near the ruins of the festival. It wasn’t time to die yet. Or was it? He wondered when he saw what looked like a shooting star, heading straight for his face.

Something crashed into him, and Makoto fell over onto the ground, blinking as he lay on the ground.

The something was Junko, and she was sitting on top of him- straddling him. She was a sight to see, and not because she was beautiful, though this too was true, but because she was covered in soot and parts of her yukata were burning. She leaned down and took her cigar out of her mouth, tapping its ashes out centimeters away from Makoto’s head, smiling in the insane way she usually did when she was high off of despair.

“What a night, am I right?” she giggles.

Makoto gulped and looked away from her.

“No thanks to you,” he says, almost bitterly. But he’s too nice to really be sour about it.

Junko laughs dismissively.

“It’s a night you’ll remember forever, though. Immortalized in the history of Tanabata Festivals.”

“Is this why you did it? Chasing me around with explosives and blowing stuff up?” Makoto demands.

Junko shakes her head and takes a drag from her cigar before answering.

“No, of course not, silly! I wanted to see you suffer, and I wanted to feel despair,” she responded happily. “You little nitwit.” She flicked him on the forehead, and he blinked reflexively. “Daww, did that hurt? Here, I’ll kiss it better.”

She bends down and places a rather gentle kiss on Makoto’s forehead, and for a moment, just a moment, he thinks it wouldn’t be too bad to date Junko Enoshima.

But then she steps away from his body and aims a gigantic rocket launcher at him, courtesy of her other half, Mukuro, and he’s brought back to reality.

Makoto scrambles to his feet and starts running in the opposite direction, and watches as a tree less than a meter away from him gets torn through by a missile shot by Junko and meant for him. The missile soars upward and disappears into the sky. He shuddered to think what would’ve happened to him if the poor tree looked this miserable.

He stops and rests against a tree close to where the festival was, a tree that was in one piece. From here, all of the festival could be seen, and it appeared as though people were salvaging the remains of the festival and setting up to have fun again. With a smile, he walks into the festival. At least Junko hadn’t completely demolished it. It appeared hope would prevail yet again.

Makoto walks to a booth and purchases a stick of cotton candy. Finally, he could enjoy the festival a little bit and live like he really was just 18 years old- or maybe not.

“Makoto! Maybe you should check your pocket,” Junko calls out in a manner of seconds after Makoto’s started eating his cotton candy.

“What for?” he says, and looks at his back pocket, only to find a stick of dynamite lodged there snugly. “Gah!”

He grabs it, avoiding the spark, and throws it into the woods. Sorry, trees, he apologizes internally. Crisis averted, he thought to himself and wiped the sweat off his brow. He was getting tired of this whole defying death and running away from getting exploded deal.

It was then that Makoto happened to notice out of the corner of his eye a hint of blond hair, and the smell of a cigar wafted through the air and mingled with the scents of oil and sweets. Along with those details, he saw in her hands a gigantic, colorful, festive-looking mallet. He barely had the time to think, ‘Oh, no,’ before he found himself hammered with that very same mallet.

He woke up to the breezy night air and found himself perched on a ledge a little bit above the festival. It was an ideal place for viewing fireworks. Aside from there being Junko Enoshima nearby, that is.

“Makoto! You’re awake! Our main attraction is almost ready,” Junko cooed with delight.

Still woozy, Makoto looked around in a daze.

“Huh? Main attraction?”

Junko walks over to an enormous black cannon and laughs maniacally.

“Look, it’s a cannon! It fits a human- or two -inside! All I gotta do is light this baby, and you’ll go boom boom!”

She saunters over to him and leans in close, the tip of her fat cigar brushing against his nose sootily.

“And you’ll be the guest of honor tonight, Makoto! Ooh, I’m so excited! I simply can’t wait!”

With that, she brings her humongous mallet that’d knocked Makoto unconscious to the end of her cigar, lighting the mallet on fire-evidently, it was easily flammable-and with a single swing of her mallet, she hits Makoto into the air and he drops into the mouth of the cannon almost perfectly.

“Hey! Get me out of here!” he bangs his fists on the curved metal from inside the cannon, but it was useless.

“No way!” Junko snorts. “You’re live television and streaming online. Be nice to my viewers! And of course, we’re close to the festival too, so they’re gonna have front and center seats to you getting shot outta that cannon!”

“I’m going to really die this time,” Makoto groaned and put his face in his hands, sitting in the darkness. Hopefully, Junko would set out some fireworks, and his death wouldn’t seem too grim.

“Of course you will, sweetie! Now it’s time to light this baby,” Junko shouts into a giant megaphone enthusiastically. People from the festival look up at her to see what’s going on, curious. “Once I light it, there’s no going back! This fuse can’t be put out. The cannon will be shot tonight, and the lucky rider is going to be Makoto! What a fine opportunity you have to see this special view tonight, folks! Happy Tanabata!”

Junko grabs the long fuse of the cannon, extended for dramatic suspense, and puts her cigar to the fuse, lighting it. She climbs onto the cannon’s barrel cheerfully and plugs her ears, a smile stretched from cheek to cheek on her face. But of course, shooting Makoto into the sky just wouldn’t be complete without a good jab at him before.

She scoots up the cannon and puts her head inside.

“Hey, Makoto-whoah!”

Junko tumbles inside in a surprising show of uncharacteristic clumsiness, and with the shaking of the cannon from her falling inside, Makoto falls forward and dives face-first into her chest.

“Mmph!”

Somehow, Makoto manages to extract himself from her chest, but not without a lot of awkward shifting in their positions inside the cannon.

“You know, this would be the part where I punch you into space- except that the cannon’s going to do that for me,” Junko snickers.

“Gh! Sorry,” Makoto says, feeling his face grow hot.

“No harm done,” Junko says. “Except that you’re tarnishing a young girl’s purity,” she teases him.

Makoto sighs and shakes his head.

“Anyway, look at what you’ve done. Now we’re both stuck in here. This wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t tried to shoot me out of this humongous cannon.”

“No,” Junko corrects him. “This wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t avoided death earlier when I was setting off explosives.”

“What?” Makoto exclaims. “So I’m just supposed to lay down and explode from a stick of dynamite?”

“Yes,” she confirms. “That’s what’s supposed to happen. Or you’re supposed to be unlucky and get hit by a piece of flaming debris.”

“And what’s the point in all that?” Makoto asks cynically.

“Because I like you,” Junko says rather abruptly. “That’s why I’ve been chasing after you all night and setting off explosives near you. I just wanted your attention all along.”

Makoto rolls his eyes.

“You’re joking, aren’t you.”

“No, I’m not,” she replies, and for once she sounds serious. “I like you, Makoto.”

He looks at her blue eyes, blond hair, and torn up yukata. Junko Enoshima was quite possibly one of the most beautiful girls he had ever met, not to mention one of the most insane girls he had ever met. And yet, was it possible? He stared at her, trying to decipher her, and then she burst into laughter.

“Bwahaha! You’re so naive, Makoto. How could I ever like an ordinary, non-despair-inducing guy like you?” she says cuttingly.

Yeah, she was the same Junko he’d always known after all.

Makoto sighs, looking at the still-lit cigar in Junko’s mouth. Honestly, the nerve of this girl…

Wait. The cigar was glowing rather brightly, which let him see a little. It seemed like there was a little chink in the cannon somewhere next to his butt. He felt around and pressed at it, and suddenly fell through the cannon’s walls and onto the plain ground. The wall closed back up, and Makoto stood and ran. The cannon had been elevated, so there was ample space under it to stand and walk. The fuse seemed to be running out as the spark traveled closer and closer to the butt of the cannon.

Meanwhile, Junko sat in the cannon comfortably.

“He got away again,” she sighed. “How despairful… But on the bright side, the cannon’s about to fire!”

She puffed at her cigar.

“This is gonna be a good show.”

She climbed out toward the mouth of the cannon and stuck her head out, looking around. There he was. Makoto hadn’t gotten too far yet since it’d only been a few seconds since he’d escaped.

“Yoohoo, Makoto!”

The person in question stopped running away momentarily and looked over. Of course. Who else would be calling his name? She was waving at him, too.

“Wish you were here,” Junko winked at him and blew out a smokey heart ring before settling back inside the cannon, even though at that point, it would’ve been easy for her to simply climb out of the cannon.

Outside of the cannon, Makoto sprinted away, plugging his ears, and then stood, safely in the forest, watching as the cannon shot out one Junko Enoshima, who seemed like a dazzling shooting star bursting forth; hot, bright sparks flew out from the display, and the ground rumbled, quaking with the vibrations and noise of the massive contraption exerting-no, unleashing-its force.

“Yes! Despair!” she shouted. “Woohoo!”

The distance made her voice seem faint, but it was miraculous Makoto could even still hear her at all in the midst of all the noise. People were watching from the festival grounds, clapping and cheering for her. After all the trouble she caused, they were rather happy she’d been shot out of a cannon to somewhere hopefully far away from the night’s festivities. Makoto himself was simply relieved that it wasn’t him who got shot out of that cannon. Who knows what would have happened to him?

And with that, the night of the Tanabata Festival came to a close, and the shining Junko Enoshima disappeared into the dark night sky, brilliantly twinkling out of sight with a “ding!”

“A fitting end, don’t you think?”

Kyouko was standing next to Makoto, who startled at her words and glanced at her briefly before looking back at the beautiful night sky.

“Kyouko? When did you get here?”

“I was here all along,” she smiles. “You ran over here after I got here.”

“So you were going to just watch as Junko shot me out of that ridiculous cannon,” Makoto said in an accusing tone.

Kyouko shook her head.

“I knew it’d end up like this.”

Makoto turned his head to look at her. Kyouko’s pink eyes were shining slightly.

“Did you cut out a door for me to fall out of?” he questioned.

Neither confirming nor denying his words, Kyouko just smiled mysteriously.

“I’ll just say it was lucky that you escaped her plans again. As expected of the Ultimate Lucky Student.”

-----

Omake Junko flew through the sky, her trusty cigar still in her mouth, and she protected the end from the wind as she tried to light it up again- but to no avail.

“Grr! Can’t a girl just smoke a cigar?” she complained. But at least she didn’t have any more explosives or fireworks to set off anyway, she thought to herself. It’d been a good night, though. It was despair-inducing that she ended up getting shot out of the cannon instead and that Makoto escaped a gruesome fate yet again.

She looked toward the hills. She was about to hit the ground. She shrugged and tapped the ashes off of her cigar before putting it back in her mouth, smirking. When Junko did something, she always did it in fashion. And that included crash landings or even possible death.

She falls on the ground ungracefully- disgraced, but alive. Maybe now that she wasn’t flying through the sky anymore, she could relight her cigar. She digs around for her lighter, but it’s nowhere to be found. Junko sighs. It must have dropped out of her pocket on her ride over here. Hopefully, it would set some trees on fire and bring despair somewhere, she thought to herself.

“Makoto sure is one lucky bastard,” she reflects. “Well, I guess he hasn’t really got anything else going for him, though, so it’s his one saving grace. Everything else about him is the most average of the average.”

She looks out over the clearing of nature to take in her surroundings, only to see that something huge is barreling straight in her direction at Mach speed.

“Uh-oh.”

Makoto was holding a teddy bear plushie and eating konpeito, candied stars when he noticed a huge, billowing mushroom cloud in the distance. His phone vibrated with a notification, and he pulled it out only to see a message from Junko, which read:

“I’m alive!😁✌️ Bet you would be dead if you were me 💕💕I’ll get you next time 😜”

His phone vibrated again, and a photo appeared in the chat. Did he even want to look? He sighed. Better to know what was going on, after all.

He tapped on the photo to reveal Junko herself, covered in black ashes from head to toe, her yukata even more ripped up than the last time he’d seen her, and the overbearing cigar was still snug between her lips and lit- it looked like the cigar had been relit from the explosion of what remained of the missile in the background next to her feet. As expected of Junko: not even a ride through space from a massive cannon and fall from grace could defeat her, and neither could a military-issue missile.

Makoto was not looking forward to the next time. He very much hoped there wouldn’t be a next time.

But the fact that Junko was alive ensured it, and he put his phone back in his pocket, accepting his fate. Hopefully the next time, he would come out alive and safe again, if not a little ragged.

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etraytin · 4 years

Text

Quarantine, Days 28-29

I wrote a big long thing last night about how quarantine was going, but my computer did the thing where it shuts down unexpectedly and I lost the whole fucking thing, and I really didn’t care enough to do the whole damn thing over again. But never let it be said that I can't eventually learn from my mistakes, I am writing this in a word processor that saves as I go, so if the computer fubars again, I can still inflict my ruminations on you.

Yesterday was a very weird day because night before last I suddenly lost most of my sense of smell and taste. That would be bad enough, especially because I noticed it after I put the spoiled milk in my mouth, but it's also one of the most striking early symptoms of Covid-19, so it was good for some serious quiet panicking. I'm not horribly scared of the virus for myself, but I've been to a lot of doctors' offices this week and I would feel guilty as hell if I accidentally exposed some tiny baby or old person. But by the middle of yesterday my senses were basically back to normal and I never got a cough, a headache, or a fever, so who even knows? It was probably allergies. I usually don't get bothered much by seasonal allergies, but there was not enough cold weather this year, which led to a massive arboreal orgy that left Virginia buried in several inches of pollen this month. It's really not a great year to have allergies.

Since I was feeling pretty good, I started dealing with the piles of donated linens I picked up earlier this week for kitten season. With no baby wipes or toilet paper to use on my bottlefed kittens, I need a significantly different cleanliness strategy this year. Tiny newborn kittens cannot urinate or defecate on their own for the most part, so it is part of the bottlefeeder's job to stimulate them at every feeding, which may be as frequently as twelve times a day. This means that the bottlefeeder spends a really significant amount of time being shat on by kittens each day. It's a glamorous life we lead. I was fortunate enough to be gifted four packs of baby wipes, a couple boxes of kleenex and three bags of assorted linens for rags, all of which spent a couple days in my car so any potential germs could die off before I brought them inside. I spent a couple hours sorting towels and cutting them into appropriately sized rags. Living in an affluent area is funny because some people apparently throw out nicer towels than the ones I use on my human family.

In other good news, my giant crochet hook arrived, so I was able to start working on my rag rug project. I have so many old t-shirts, and the piles of linen included kind of a weird number of pillowcases. Towels I can use, sheets I can use (we use them for trap covers in the TNR program) but pillowcases? Anyway, I cut several of them up into strips and strung them together into balls of rag "yarn" for crocheting. I started that project this morning and realized very quickly that I had underestimated the difficulty of joining together two balls of rag yarn, since the joining technique requires the entire length of one yarn be pulled through a teeny tiny hole in the other. Whoops. But my technique quickly improved, and by now my rug is nearly the size of a hubcap. Very exciting!

Today was also a day for me to feel extremely grateful that I have one child in the house, and that child is ten, and that child is not a monster like the horror stories people are telling. He and I made sushi for lunch, and I taught him how to spread the seasoned rice on the seaweed and put the ingredients on. He's not quite ready for rolling yet, but probably soon! We used the leftover rice for pudding and it was pretty great. Other than that, he spent nearly the entire day writing fanfiction. (He is my son, I am so proud!) This is a major accomplishment for many reasons, not only because he is following in my footsteps and being super-creative, but because two years ago I could barely get him to write a sentence for love or money. His spelling and punctuation is still not great, but he had a story in his head and he wrote it! And it makes sense, and he stuck with it all the way through! He is so great.

Tonight, just a few minutes ago, I had my first virtual Red Cross call. You'd think I'd be getting used to virtual everything by now, I watched a virtual Maundy Thursday service this evening and washed my own hands during the washing ceremony. But it's hard to have a fire call come in and not be able to go there and look the person in the eye and tell them how sorry you are that this is happening. We can't even give them bags of toiletries because of contamination risk. It's also hard to conduct an interview on a wonky computer, using a phone connection that sounds like somebody is yelling down a tunnel, but we got it done. I did the interview from my home, then another Red Cross DAT member, who'd gone to the scene, ran the paperwork that will let them get assistance up to their porch and left it there. It was weird and clunky, but everybody is going to have a place to stay and money to eat and buy clothes with for the next couple days, so mission accomplished. But I can't wait til this is over. Hope all of you are staying safe and staying inside and staying busy. Stay tuned tomorrow for some fic recs!

#quarantine #covid 19 #crochet #red cross

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kunderdogs · 5 years

Text

KNK / Back From Tour

I’m an idiot and posted it to my main blog so here it is again!

Shoutout to @randomkpopfiction for requesting this! “thank you so much for writing for our under appreciated kings knk 😘 - sooo... can i request a knk reaction to seeing their s/o after a few weeks/months apart? 🥰 thank you xx”

I thought this was super cute so I went completely overboard. This is 3k+ words...whoops lol.

Major fluff with a dash of smut-ish?

Background: KNK went on a 1 month U.S. tour and come back home to their s/o (you). These are basically mini scenarios and, once again, i am not sorry.

Jihun: Our cute leader loves tinkerbells but he misses his s/o more than he can put in words. These five weeks were dragging for him, whenever he could, he would call and text but the time difference made it really difficult to communicate so you both relied on sending pictures through out the day of what you were doing (or not doing - lazy couch days were common when Jihun wasn't around to occupy you). He had a countdown app set up and will update you when he's feeling really lonely so when you convinced your boss that you had to take a personal day the day he flew back home, you decided to surprise him. Going to the airport was risky, and you couldn't risk the fans see you and him so you decided to surprise him at the dorms and sent him a simple text: "Once I get off work, I'll head over to the dorm and welcome you back, babe."

Once there, you went to his room, taking your shoes as to leave no evidence behind. It wasn't long til they arrived, the tell-tale sound of Heejun exclaiming that he had missed their humble apartment nearly scaring the life out of you. You jumped from the bed and hid behind the door with the biggest smile on your face. It felt like an eternity before the door creaked open followed by those familiar footsteps walking in.

Before he could close the door, you popped out, hands grasping the sleeve of his hoodie while screaming, "Boo!"

Jihun screamed the highest pitch you'd ever heard him make and (you guessed it) would fall on the floor in the utmost dramatic fashion, clutching his heart, brown eyes wide before he realizes it's you, laughing hysterically next to him on the floor.

"Wah...So this is how you greet the love of your life when he gets back from tour?" His smile is nearly taking up his whole face, even if his heart rate was still triple the normal speed. "No kiss, no 'I missed you so much', just scaring the life from my body..."

Composing yourself, you can't keep the wide grin from your lips as you turned to face Jihun before tackling him in a hug, attacking his face with your lips. "I missed you very much, baby," you whisper between your kisses.

Eyes closed, large hands wrapped around your back in a bone crushing hug, Jihun let you love on him for as long as you wanted. His heart felt like it would burst with all this affection so he didn't say much, other than hum approvingly when your lips drifted down towards his neck.

Until Inseong barged in asking if y'all were hungry, only to see you two wrapped up in each other on the ground and looking disheveled.

"Aish...Why don't you ever knock?"

Over the next few hours, Jihun doesn't let you go more than two feet from him. He's clinging to you like glue and wants to hold you all night if you let him. You'll catch him staring at you with a small smile and when you ask him why, he'll say it's because he missed seeing such a beautiful presence in his life. Incredibly touchy (not really in a dirty way) but he really missed feeling your body against his so he wants to make up for the missed cuddle sessions.

Seoham: Once his flight landed, he was on the phone dialing your number to tell you that they've made it safely. It was 2am, and even though you tried to wait up for him, you ended crashing on your couch. He could hear the sleep in your voice and told you he'd come by tomorrow to see you. That woke you up just a bit so you quickly reassure him and tell him you'll be by the dorm in an hour. He's tried to convince you to stay home, but you were dying to see him, your sleep be damned! He managed to keep you in your house by promising to sleep over your house tonight. With the help of the boys, he convinced his management to let him sleep at your house despite the late hour and caught a cab to your apartment.

Around an hour later, he was pushing the door open and dragging his suitcase behind him, exhaustion and jet lag finally catching up to him. Hearing him enter from the kitchen, you stumbled from around the corner and made a run to the door. You threw yourself into his arms like a koala, thankful that he had a quick reaction and caught your thighs that locked around his waist.

"Welcome home," you said in his neck once you got past the happy tears. Hands tight on you, Seoham walked you both back to your room and didn't loosen his grip on you until his back fell onto the bed with your weight pressed on top of him.

He wouldn't give you much time to speak since his lips would be all over your face, mumbling how much he missed you and that next time he was definitely going to bring you along with him. You were so content just being in his arms that you almost missed the few tears that escaped his eyes until one landed on your cheek.

"Oh no, Seoham...you okay?" You asked, worried that there was something that happened to make him react like this.

Seoham shook his head as his arms closed around your waist tightly so he could snuggle into you closer. "I just...am really happy to see you. It felt like I was gone for a year."

You laughed into his chest. "It really did feel long. Our home felt so empty without you."

This was the first time you had referred to your house as his home too so there was no way he could control the butterflies in his stomach or the blush that set his face on fire. "Our home...I really like the sound of that."

Dongwon: Not a touchy person by nature, Dongwon would be the complete opposite when he gets back from a long stay away from his s/o. On tour he had been constantly calling you and you two would have at least two to three hours of talking before he had to force him to sleep to be able to keep up with the boys tomorrow. The other members would tease the hell out of him since his head was permanently buried in his phone so he could keep contact with you for as long as possible. Honestly he wouldn't care, and take all the comments with a smile. After a particularly hot *coughyounaughtykidscough* facetime call the week before his flight back home, Dongwon would be a little more wound up than usual. He would zone out more often as the tour came closer to the end. Their manager would just chalk it up to the weeks of dancing finally catching up to him but the boys knew better. His frustration would peek on the plane ride over to the point that the others practically begged their manager to let him go to your house since they didn't want to be witness to the nasty-ness that would surely be your reunion.

So when he got permission, with a bunch of rules like "Don't go out past 9pm, wear your hat and mask, no PDA, take separate taxis, blah blah blah", Dongwon was out of the apartment in a heartbeat. Phone in hand, he was calling you yet you didn't answer. It didn't bother him too much since around this time you were usually in the shower or cooking.

Deciding to just surprise you, he hoped out of the taxi and was at your apartment in record time. He used his key instead of punching in the code as to make the least amount of noise and couldn't keep the dopey smile from his lips when he heard you singing their latest song while in the shower. On his way to the bathroom, he discarded his hoddie on the couch, and shoes at the door.

You didn't even hear him open the door until a low chuckle floated in your ears once the song was over. Screaming, you dropped the shampoo bottle in your hand and nearly ripped the curtain from the rod hanging above you.

"Dongwon!" Your normally soothing voice seemed higher by a few octaves. "You scared me half to death! Baby, what are you doing here? I was getting ready to meet you at the dorm..."

You felt your lips move, but you couldn't pay much attention since he ripped his shirt from his lean body and then stripped of his jeans and briefs. Biting your lip to hide your smile, you closed the curtain and put the forgotten shampoo through your locks.

There was a quick movement behind you before the familiar warmth on your back made the grin break out on your face. Large hands covered your own to gently massage your hair and scalp. You let your eyes finally close when the water fell around your head and the unmistakable feeling of his lips pressing into your shoulder set a fire blazing in your body. He dragged his open-mouth kisses up to your neck and then stopping to pay careful attention to that one spot he knew had you weak in the knees.

"I've said this probably a million times now but," his voice, that low and deep tremble was another one of your weaknesses, especially when he was speaking so softly right in your ear. "I missed you, baby girl."

And that was it. He had you like putty in his hands for the rest of the evening. You had absolutely no complaints.

Inseong: You had asked their manager if it would be alright to wait in Inseong's room for him on the day they flew out so when you got the okay, you spent the entire day at their dorm. Nervously keeping yourself busy, you began to tidy up. They usually did quick cleaning so it had been awhile when someone got down and scrubbed the floors or cleaned the fans. You were too anxious to see Inseong again. This was the first tour that he had went on while you two were dating and, you just hoped he missed you like you missed him.

Inseong was not one to shy away from saying affectionate things, not at all. So he was always saying that he missed you, that he wanted to hold you at night when you said your bed felt so cold, that he couldn't wait to finally be able to touch you instead of imagining it through facetime.

Hours later, when the apartment smelt like lemon and bleach, the hardwood had no stains and all the laundry had been washed and folded, you fell back on the bed that had a faint smell of your boyfriend after you got out of the shower. You had threw on one of his t-shirts, even though it was much too big and covered you to your knees like a dress. All the activity and worrying had your eyes closing until the thumping could be heard from down the hall, specifically the front door.

"Why doesn't it smell like men and expired cologne? Did one of the cleaning crew come while we were on tour?" You heard Seoham question from the kitchen before there was almost frantic footsteps got louder as they moved in your direction.

A tired smile was on your lips as you got up and took exactly three steps to the door before it swung open and Inseong stopped dead in his tracks. Those large brown eyes you loved, wide and shining, froze as he looked down to your face. His hand was still on the door knob and he was standing motionless in the doorway. His lips moved to form words but the tears gathered in his eyes too quickly for him to stop them.

"Baby..." you whispered, finally taking a step towards him. "You're home."

Like a spell was broken, Inseong closed the door with his eyes never leaving yours. He blinked and the tears split over to run down his cheeks before those long arms were wrapped around your waist and crushing you into his chest. You felt him inhale deeply, his nose on your head before he released a shaking breath. Like he couldn't breathe without you near him. It made your heart swell and your hands hooked around his neck, even though you had to stretch to reach.

He was mumbling something under his breath but you didn't get to ask as those slender fingers cupped your cheeks and lifted your face. Your vision was a bit blurry due to your own tears so Inseong pressed his lips to your forehead then both eyelids and your nose before pausing at your lips. However, you tilted your face up and closed the distance yourself, your fingers curling in his hair to have some kind of leverage.

The breathy groan from the back of his throat caused Inseong to part from you, resting his forehead on yours. You reached up and wiped his own tears away, noticing his lips pull into a smile.

"I'm home."

Heejun: While Heejun was on tour, you had threw yourself into work, pulling double shifts and doing your reports faster than you ever had before to keep yourself from having to go back to the empty home. Without his laughter and loud music, your home felt like a cold shell of itself. It was depressing to have to walk in and not see that brilliant smile greet you when you stepped in.

So when you slumped in, at ten at night only to see a faint light from the kitchen, you figured you had left the light on. It hadn't been the first time but when you walked past and flicked the switch down, there was an amused grunt that had you frozen in your step.

"Yah, I was cleaning here."

The tiredness in your bones faded when you backed up and flipped it back on. Leaning over the sink was the naked back of Heejun, broad and muscles rippling as he scrubbed a pan before putting it in the drain next to the sink. Without a word, you found your way over to him, hands softly pressing into his back to make sure this was real.

"You just going to feel me up without saying hi?" Heejun teased, cutting off the water.

He was about to turn when your small arms (small to him) coiled around his waist as you pressed your body into his tightly. Your cheek rested against his skin and he smelt like your body soap mixed with that smell that could only be described as his own. Feeling him breathe beneath you and his hands cover your own, you kissed his skin. Heejun loosened your hold on him to turn around and face you, his arms looping around your shoulders to force you into his body.

You felt him inhale more than heard it, "I missed you, baby. You must be tired."

Humming, you stood on your toes to kiss his neck. "Only a little. When did you get back? I thought you said your flight was tomorrow afternoon."

"It was, but I bumped it up to surprise you. The guys are coming home tomorrow." His hands, still damp, rubbed over your hips before he took a step forward, making you walk backwards.

"We can catch up tomorrow," his voice whispered next to your ear. "Let's get you to bed, hm?"

#knk #knk reaction #knk scenario #kim jihun #park seoham #jeong inseong #lee dongwon #oh heejun #크나큰 #kunderdogs reactions #i don't even know whose my bias #im just trash at this point #had to repost since i uploaded it to my main blog #sorry everyone #didn't spell check as well

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pinkykitten · 5 years

Text

The Shoulder Touch

Peaky Blinders

Isaiah Jesus x female! reader

Warning: none

Specifics: romance, comedy, fluff, one-shot, race neutral reader, based on a movie, gifs

People: isaiah jesus, tommy shelby, arthur shelby, michael shelby, john shelby, finn shelby, bar woman (oc)

Words: 2,399

Summary: isaiah jesus meeting you for the first time since you moved to small heath, he does the hey from spider man into the spider verse.

Authors Note: hey...so this is not an au its just like based, gave me inspiration for this fic. this is my first peaky fic so im sorry if i get some things wrong or somethings just sound stupid ur girl far from perfect. isaiah is actually one of my fav characters and miles i love him with all my heart and soul. if u havent watched spider man into the spider verse pls do urself a favor and do that rn. if you want to be tagged or request anything peaky blinders pls do loves. also this was not requested.

(not my gif! do not own!)

You were from London. Your whole life was rooted there, family, friends, every thing you’ve ever known. When you became of age to make decisions for yourself you moved to Small Heath. Every one you knew thought of you as crazy, insane to make a move to number one some where you didn’t quite know and number two (hEhheEHEehEHe im immature) some where unfortunately was more poor than you were accustomed to. You wanted to move there to find your independence. You wanted to find a simple job and live a simple life with just you yourself. All your life you were shielded away from almost everything, just once you wanted to see what the world had to offer.

But who knew it would be this hard!

“I did not realize it was going to be this bad looking.” You complained to well a goat. You were currently making your way on a boat to Birmingham. Seated with yes some passengers and also some animals you could see the shore nearby. “Well its now or never thats what I always say. Thank you for keeping me company friend.” You stood up and patted your skirt. Anticipation easing within you as you glance at the unknown.

You got off the boat and set to your new life. Yes there were some characteristics different from London but you learned to look past them. You peered down at the letter your boss had sent you. You were to start work the next day. You were a journalist, writing was your passion and seeing as this area was not so big as London than maybe you could gain popularity here.

“Its a good dream to have y/n,” you said to yourself as you headed to your apartment.

The whole day was about putting your little items you had and sticking them into your small apartment. Then since you needed food to you know live you set on going to the market not far from your living space. The day was set then with buying new outfits for your job. You did want to look spiffy! (girl thats me i wanna be spiffy naw no sticky cuz im thicccc like skippy)

Towards the end of the day you already had your dinner and decided since it was your first night here to have some fun. You made you way to a pub nearby called The Garrison. As you made your way inside you saw the majority of the people in there were...bad. You were not used to seeing these types of people. Deciding to just try to enjoy your time here you make you way to the bar.

You scanned around as you sat on a stool. Every one was mingling and you were the only odd ball. You crossed your legs all primp and proper and awaited service. A unknown woman came beside you to order her drink, “whiskey.” You admired how she looked, you could tell she knew her stuff. She seemed from around here. Her dress showed cleavage and as you peered down at your dress you thought that for this setting you needed to be a bit more out there. You examined her outfit and then yours and compared to hers yours looked like a little girls dress. You tried not to make it so obvious that you were copying her. You opened up a few buttons and awaited for her to leave to order. Your accent seemed even different from every one else’s. “Yes can I please have a whiskey as well.” You were clueless! You had never drank in your life so this was new, you just imitated what the other woman did. As you got your drink you took one tiny sip and almost spit it all out. The taste was very strong, you tried not to choke so as not to make a show. As you just endured the time there you could feel eyes behind your back.

You secretly wanted to see so you tried to look back quickly but you were too quick about it, you didn’t even get a glimpse. You could see from the corner of your eye them still staring. “What in god’s name?” You cursed under your breath as you stumbled off the stool, not knowing it was that high from the ground. Proudly got your drink and strutted to the group of men looking at you.

“Is something the matter men? I have seen you all staring at me for the past hour now, care to explain?” You sassed to the group of (delicious sexy men called the peaking puffin blinders DUHHHH) men that wore nice suits. There were a couple of them, some of them wearing the flat caps. There was a man with a neat hairstyle and a mustache, another man with his cap crooked eyeing you up and down like you were the prey. Another man with the lightest blue eyes you had ever seen, a young one with broccoli looking hairstyle (im srry finn’s hair looks so stupid!), another young one that was handsome, and another young one but he looked the most different from every one. He was dark skinned, he caught your eye. All the men looked at you sexually but all you could see was the young dark man staring into your eyes. You took a gulp feeling the bashfulness creep up on you.

“Sorry you just seem you’re not from around here,” spoke the man with ice like eyes.

“Well, you are right about that. I am not. I’m from London...actually.” You tried to sound ferocious but that just made them like you more.

“Really, London? We just were looking at you because well love you look so alone and a beautiful girl should never be alone. Names John.” He stood up and gave you a hand shake. They all introduced themselves except the one man you actually wanted to get to know.

“My name is y/n. Hey you, you didn’t say your name. Whats your name?” You smiled at him. You could tell that he was getting nervous and a bit bashful as well. He gulped and Michael had to nudge him to get him out of his trance with you. “Right well um, my names Isaiah.”

“Oooh Isaiah, what a beautiful name.” Isaiah thought his name sounded way more beautiful when you said it.

They all could feel the tension and the atmosphere of you two. Arthur coughed in order to break the awkwardness.

“May I sit?” You found the courage to ask as you stood there holding your drink. John and Arthur were about to go against you but Tommy and Isaiah both in unison stood up for you and said yes. “Why thank you.”

“So y/n, what do you do?” The raspy voice of Tommy came out.

“I’m a journalist. I love writing about the news and really I do enjoy just writing. It is my passion.” You took a sip of your drink and almost made a face of disgust. (omg i think i made that face now lol i just put in a jolly rancher but the apple one) “Wow this is strong indeed. How can you all drink that?” You cough into your hand and Arthur and John pat your back to steady yourself.

“You’re drinking the wrong thing love,” Tommy says as he hands you a glass of what their drinking.

“Right.” You brace yourself and take a huge gulp of the drink. You start coughing again and you can see that Isaiah is worried about you.

“Too strong for ya,” John laughs with the others.

“Nope, its truly delicious.” You hide yourself under the table for a second and try not to barf, “that was truly disgusting.” You whisper only to yourself.

Isaiah appears, his head under the table, “you good love?”

“Am I good, well that drink was surely not but I think I can manage. Thanks.” As you lift your head up you’re greeted with his face close to yours. “Oh hello there, Isaiah.”

Michael then went under, “um what are you all doing down here? Are we having a party?” You chuckled and got back up from under the table.

After having time to talk to the men and having a good chat you stand up and stretch, “well I think this is where I should part, it was lovely meeting you men and thank you for the drink.” You put money on the table but Isaiah puts his hand out to stop you, “no need. It was on us.”

You grinned at Isaiah and made you way to the exit but as you walked outside you heard the pounding of foot steps behind you. “Wait y/n!”

You turn around to bump into Isaiah, “whoops, yes?”

Isaiah was out of breath but he stood up straight and looked around shyly. “I was wondering, would you like to meet me here tomorrow? Just me and you, no one else?”

“Just you and me?” You pretended to give it some thought, “of course.”

Isaiah gave you a lovesick grin but then shook it off and pretended to be this tough guy, “alright, see you then.”

You walked out of plain sight and Michael came out, “look at you, you really like her a lot don’t you?”

Finn stepped out to greet Isaiah, “look at him. He’s already in love.” They both made fun of him and Isaiah shook his head, “you bastar*s.”

Isaiah’s P.O.V.

The date was tomorrow and Isaiah felt clueless about what to do with you. He was nervous.

“I don’t know there’s just something about this girl Michael. She’s different and I really like her.” Isaiah explained to him while him and Michael and Finn sat in the Shelby Parlour.

“I’ve never seen you this nervous for anything,” Finn raised his brow.

“Look I know you’re shy, I sometimes get like that with me girls but you need to only know one thing in this life,” Michael instructed him, placing his hand on Isaiah’s shoulder.

“I’m all ears.”

Michael chuckled, “do you know about the shoulder touch?”

“What? I mean of course I do, but um explain it to me again. I must of forgotten.”

“Right. When you see y/n tomorrow you waltz to her and with a dashing smile you put your hand on her shoulder and give her a sexual face saying, hey.” Michael did that to Isaiah and it took everything of Isaiah to not laugh at his friends face.

“Are you sure about this?”

“My friend its biology. Every girl, including y/n you do that to will fall at your feet.”

“So like this, I just go to y/n and say...hey.”

Michael shook his head, “no its like this...hey.” His voice became deeper.

“Heyyy,” Isaiah’s turned his voice deeper imitating Michael.

“No, hey,” Michael did it again, smooth.

“He-ey,” Isaiah’s voice cracked as he tried to be as charming as Michael.

(not my gif! do not own!)

“You’re ridiculous mate,” they all have a good laugh about it. “But you can do this, even though you’re a little rusty in some areas we believe in you.”

Finn gave Isaiah a freckled smile and nodded.

“Then I’m ready.”

End of Isaiah P.O.V.

As you entered the pub your eyes searched for the handsome face of Isaiah. You subconsciously pull your dress down and swash away any imaginary lint. Biting your lips in nervousness you spot Isaiah. Feeling all giddy you motion to him with a skip to your step, your giggle like music to his ears. You wave to him with a, “hello there.”

Isaiah sees you and with a shy grin he hands you some flowers, “these are for you.”

As you grab the bouquet your hand lightly touches Isaiah’s hand. He coughs awkwardly and you gasp in awe at the beauty he has given you, “my word Isaiah these are extremely beautiful.”

“Yeah, I got them because they remind me of you.”

You knit your brows and give a oblivious look, “oh, in what way?”

Isaiah gulped, “they are beautiful just like you.”

You laughed at his cheesy pick up lines, “Isaiah you flatter me too much, but I should say the same about you.” You come in contact with him and get as close as possible. “You handsome man.” With a leap of faith (YASSSS SPIDEY REFERENCE FOR DAYS LOSERS ITS ALL JUST A LEAP OF FAITH PEEPS) you placed your delicate hands on his chest, the fabric of his suit and his body making your cold hands warm.

Isaiah was having a nervous break down. He was trying to find what to do next with you. “The shoulder touch!!!” He thought as he pushed you back.

“Umm?” Was all you could mutter when he awkwardly, but you can tell he was trying to be smooth, placed his hand on your shoulder, “hey.” His voice deepened.

You sucked in your lips and tried to understand his motive, “um...hi?”

The breath that Isaiah was holding finally came out and he look defeated, “I’m sorry love. I’m trying to be this tough man but truly I’m not when I’m with you I get nervous and shy like a little school boy. Look what you did to me y/n.”

You made an evil grin and pushed Isaiah on the booth. Cautiously, you sat on his lap, the end of your dress pooling around his thighs. “So I make you nervous?”

Isaiah looked like he was well lets just say bust a nut. His heart was hammering so hard and fast, with a quick nod you got your answer.

You crossed your arms, “you’re so cute! You make me nervous and shy as well Isaiah Jesus (take the wheel) that makes me feel that you actually care.”

Isaiah sat up straighter, holding your waist against him so you wouldn’t fall. He placed your hand on his chest, “you feel that gorgeous? That’s what you make a man that ain’t scared of nothing do.”

“Funny our hearts match, its like they’re dancing.” You gave a quick peck on Isaiah’s cheek and sat beside him, holding his hand.

Isaiah felt now more at ease with you, rubbing his calloused hand against yours, “you’re something else y/n.”

You laugh, “you too lad!” You placed your hand on his shoulder, “I just wanted to say though...hey,” you deepened your voice.

Tag list: @harrington-lover, @angelgl16, @perfectlybeautifulsuit, @hyehoney, @haven-prelude (wont let me tag), @leasly, @totally-alexa21, @creamy-pasta-boi, @multireese, @fanfictionrecommendations-com, @prentisskelley, @malereaderforkpop (wont let me tag), @guardian-of-cookies, @justafangirl-97, @teenageshitposts (wont let me tag), @andreaoreas, @dippergravity (wont let me tag), @some-booty, @fromfoolishpeopletodeadpeople, @collectiveyou, @wtfisalltherandoms, @fangirl-4-life415

wanna be tagged in my crap? comment!

#peaky blinders #fanfiction #imagines #x reader #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fic #isaiah jesus #isaiah jesus x reader #isaiah jesus imagine #miles morales #marvel #spider man into the spider verse #race neutral reader #not requested #omg i loved writing this #this was so much fun to write like i c h o k e d with laughter #the shoulder touch

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the-gay-in-the-way · 5 years

Text

A Knight’s Unpaid Vigilance, Part two

(Well, I was having a hard time focusing on finishing up the plan for my book.)

(So I decided to take a break and listen to some music.)

(And then this happened.)

(So, surprise, I guess.)

(Here’s the second chapter to “A Knight’s Unpaid Vigilance”)

(You can read the first one in the link above.)

(I wasn’t exactly sure about how to take this series going forward.)

(I knew the major plot points, just not the details in between.)

(But I thought this might be fitting.)

(And it actually almost made me cry a little while I wrote it.)

(I dunno if I portrayed all the emotion I was feeling as I worked on the story, but I hope I at least did it a little justice.)

(Anyways, I’ll stop rambling and just let you read it now.)

(Thanks for reading it, if you do, and I hope you enjoy this new chapter.)

-------------------------

“Alright, welcome to your new home, Vigilance.”

The sound of leather falling on leather was loud within the large and mostly empty apartment.

“Or, y’know, the real life version of it.”

Black and violet eyes glanced quickly around the space, taking in every detail with speed, before moving over to gaze at the man standing in the middle of it all.

Said man was gazing back at him, his arms crossed while he seemed to examine the newly acquired side in front of him.

After a moment of silently staring at each other, the man snorted and rolled his eyes.

“Not a big talker, huh?”

Despite himself, Virgil’s nose scrunched up.

“Not really...”

The man barked out a laugh before shaking his head.

“Right, right. That’s fine. Not like I really need you to talk much anyways.”

Then he uncrossed his arms and took a few steps forward, until he and the dark side were less than a foot apart.

A hand reached up and gently grabbed Virgil’s chin, a thumb pressing lightly against his closed lips.

“Actually, it’s probably better if you talk less, considering what you seemed to do with your voice earlier.”

Virgil’s eyes sharpened dangerously and the man’s hand twitched.

Then his own hands twitched and the side that had once been Anxiety quickly shifted his gaze away, tilting his head in a way that allowed his hair to fall further over his face.

Unbeknownst to Virgil, the gesture made the man frown.

“I only use my voice in emergencies. When it’s really necessary.”

The touch of the man’s thumb was featherlight as it made a single sweep across his lips, before resting against the edge of his frown.

“And that was an emergency?”

Despite the thumb no longer pressing against his mouth, Virgil remained silent, his head only lowering further, his face becoming more shadowed.

Meanwhile, the man’s frown only deepened, his brows furrowing as he took in the defeated posture of the side in front of him.

“I see.”

The hand left Virgil’s chin and left him blinking in surprise when it gave him two gentle but firm slaps on the cheek.

“Well, that’s fair enough. If you feel like you need to use your voice, feel free. Just make sure you don’t overuse it on me or the others.”

Virgil looked up sharply and found the man smiling at him with a slightly evil looking grin.

“Or I’ll dump you on another manifester so fast you’ll get whiplash. Understand?”

It reminded him a lot of Deceit’s own devious grin whenever he was about to pull a prank on one of the others.

“Yeah.”

It made Virgil’s heart ache.

“I understand.”

The man nodded.

“Good.”

Then his hand was reaching out again, this time taking a hold of Virgil’s wrist and pulling him closer to stand at his side.

“Now c’mon, I gotta introduce you to the others and get you to your room so I can finally relax for the day.”

Sinking into another manifester’s mind was apparently just as uncomfortable as sinking into Thomas’, Virgil noted as they appeared in a much messier version of the apartment they’d just left.

A loud whistle rang through the room and made Virgil quickly reach out and pull the other closer to him.

The man simply laughed in response.

“Calm down, Vigilance. Not every little sound is a threat, y’know.”

A different hand from the one that was currently pressing against Virgil’s side, came up and patted him lightly on the head.

“Although that’s real sweet of you to try and protect me from my own whistle.”

If Virgil could blush, he would have.

As it was, his tattoo, having taken the place of his eyeshadow, spread a little further across his face while his cheeks, if anything, only became paler.

“Who the hell is this?”

A rather nasally voice burst into the room alongside two individuals that looked about as messily put together as the room they were in.

One was short but gangly, and had long green hair and bright, almost neon, green eyes.

The other was tall and incredibly muscular, with a bald head covered in writhing blood red tattoos and beady pure black eyes.

“This is Vigilance, he’s a new side, obviously. Vigilance, these are my other two sides, Jealousy and Vengeance.”

The tall one, whom Virgil was quite certain to be Vengeance, laughed loud enough that a small bowl of something gooey rattled off of a nearby countertop.

“It’s another V name! Who’da thought!”

Jealousy rolled her eyes and turned away with a wave of her hand.

“Great, glad to hear it, Mack. Now don’t bother calling me again unless it’s for something actually important. C’mon, Caine. I’m not done yet.”

Vengeance, or Caine apparently, continued to laugh as he followed the other side towards a door under the stairs.

The man next to Virgil waved his hand with a slightly exasperated smile.

“Great talk, JJ! Thanks for coming out! Always a joy seeing you!”

A single gesture was given in response as Jealousy walked out of the room and closed the door behind her and the other side, leaving Virgil alone with his new manifester once more.

The man snorted quietly and shook his head, before turning to give Virgil a shrug.

“What can I say? My personality’s just a mess.”

The sound of something, likely a piece of furniture nearby, cracking echoed within the silence of the room.

The man flinched and, before Virgil could respond in any way, he turned and started briskly walking towards the stairs.

“C’mon, we did the welcome wagon thing so it’s time for me to ditch you in your room and leave you to your own devices.”

Virgil stayed still for only a moment longer, taking another look around the wrecked room with a hint of concern, before following after him.

“Lucky you, you get a door on the second floor. The others just have doors in the hall downstairs.”

The man turned and gave him a cheesy grin and a pat on the arm.

“Aren’t you special.”

Then he turned to the dark door they’d stopped in front of and opened it.

Virgil hesitated before he could follow.

A strange but familiar feeling prickled against the back of his mind.

He was being watched by someone.

His hands twitched and he quickly took a glance to the side, noticing that the wall there looked strange.

A secret door.

A very well hidden one, with almost invisible seems.

He’d seen similar variants back in Thomas’ mindscape.

Roman and Deceit had both been quite fond of secret entrances and hidden passageways.

And Virgil had made sure he was good at spotting them, just in case he had to use one to get to the others during an emergency.

He hadn’t expected to see one here...

Before his new manifester could notice his hesitation, Virgil continued to follow him into the room while he filed the information away to consider later.

“Certainly gloomy inside and out, huh?”

Virgil looked around the room and couldn’t help but silently agree.

The room was even darker and gloomier than his old one had been.

Everything was only black and grey, no color could be seen.

The furniture seemed gothic in design and the only decoration in the room was a single painting depicting a small white flower surrounded by thorny black vines.

The sight of the flower made his eyes prickle and he forced himself to look away from it.

The room seemed, although not as bad as the common area, quite messy.

The furniture was broken and warped, the walls had cracks, the wooden floor was covered in bits of fluff and dirt and splinters, the bed sheets were torn and filled with holes, and everything was covered in a thick layer of dust.

The man nudged a chair with his foot and quickly covered his mouth to cough when the dust covering the room was disturbed.

“Ugh, whoops. Man, this place is a dump. Glad I don’t have to stay here.”

Virgil glared at him halfheartedly and the man simply laughed as he started walking out of the room.

“Well, I’ve done everything I needed to do. I’m sure you can get to your realm and deal with whatever you need to deal with on your own. I’m gonna go ahead and get back to my own place.”

As he reached the doorway, the man stopped and turned around, his gaze suddenly sharp and his body suddenly straightening.

Like he was trying to be intimidating.

“Three rules.”

He held up three fingers to match, and Virgil straightened as well.

“No looking through memories and no asking me about personal stuff. It’s my shit and I can deal with it just fine on my own, so stay away. Understand?”

Virgil nodded and the man nodded as well, lowering one of his fingers.

“Don’t be an asshole to the other sides. I need you guys to work together for arena fights, so I can’t have you hating each other or something.”

Another nod and another finger goes down.

“You’re allowed to watch me while I’m out and doing shit, that’s fine. But from 7PM to 9AM you aren’t. You also can’t come out during that time. That’s my ‘private time’. And you aren’t allowed to disturb that. Got it?”

A final nod from Virgil and the man grinned as he let his hand fall.

“Great! Then I’ll just-”

“What’s your name?”

It hadn’t occurred to me until Jealousy called him Mack but, Virgil didn’t actually know his new manifester’s name.

They’d been too busy with the convention events to have proper introductions.

And Virgil had been so caught up with his own emotions at the time that he hadn’t thought to ask.

The man blinked and a gentle pink color started rising to his cheeks before he let out a slightly awkward laugh and looked just as awkwardly away from the side in front of him.

“Right, yeah. I totally forgot to do introductions and shit while we were at the con. My bad.”

Then, after quickly clearing his throat and walking back over to stand in front of Virgil, the man smiled charmingly and held out a hand.

“My name’s Mackenzie Gulfin. But feel free to call me Mack.”

With a gentleness that, unbeknownst to Virgil, made Mack want to frown again, the dark side took the hand offered to him and gave it a soft shake.

“Virgil.”

Black and violet eyes that had once only been violet, became hidden behind long black bangs once again.

“Nice to meet you.”

The charming smile wavered a little, and gold and brown eyes gazed sadly at the obviously pained being in front of them.

A hand came up and gently patted Virgil’s head again.

For some reason, the gesture this time made him want to cry.

“Likewise, tall dark and broody.”

The nickname, as jokingly said as it was, made him swallow around the growing lump in his throat.

When he looked up again, Mack’s face was schooled back into a charming grin again and he faced it with a slight glare that made the other laugh.

“Well, now that that’s taken care of. I’m really gonna go this time. Remember to follow the rules. I’ll see you tomorrow, Virgil!”

And the door closed behind the man with a bang that was followed by the sounds of things falling downstairs.

After taking a couple of deep breathes, Virgil looked around the room once more.

His attention, unsurprisingly, went towards the large painting hanging from above his bed.

The flower was so familiar.

Just like the ones from his old realm.

He wrapped his arms around him as he looked at it, shivering as he finally allowed himself to really feel the differences between this new version of him and the old one.

The presence of his shadows was gone.

He could still control his own, but the sentient little creatures that had helped him before were gone.

The thought of what exactly that meant for them forced another lump to fill his throat, and he swallowed hard before shifting his gaze towards the broken bed in front of him.

The sheets, despite being torn and holy, rested in the same way his old ones had.

Covering the underside of the bed completely.

So, wondering if it meant what he thought it meant, he kneeled down and pulled them up.

And, sure enough, he found himself huffing out a small laugh at the sight of a thin and gnarled wooden door that led to the area under the bed.

With familiar and practiced motions, he opened the door and slid through it.

It slammed behind him, just as it had in his old room, and he moved to the other side of the bed to open the opposing door.

It led to a mirrored version of the room he’d left behind.

It was just as dusty and broken.

But the rest of the house, rather than being messy, was simply covered in dust and falling apart as well.

He walked through the silent apartment and stopped in front of the front door.

His hands shook a little and he clenched them into fists as he stared at the doorknob.

He was scared.

He didn’t know what he’d find when he went through.

He didn’t know what he wanted to find.

He didn’t even know if he could handle whatever he did find.

But he couldn’t just ignore the place forever.

This was his home now.

His realm.

His World.

Virgil blinked hard and ignored the warm and wet feeling that was suddenly surrounding his hands.

After a few moments of silence that was only broken by the quiet noise of droplets hitting wood, Virgil finally unclenched his hands and opened the door.

His eyes closed without him even realizing it, and he took a couple of blind steps out of the apartment.

His heart was hammering in his chest and he felt like he was about to fall to pieces.

His ears were straining to hear something.

To hear the familiar sounds of water falling over rocks and wind flowing through grass.

But there was nothing.

And soon, he found himself opening his eyes.

And immediately covering his mouth as he sobbed.

The sound was loud, even after being dampened by his hands.

It echoed through the clearing and rang in his ears like a bell.

His entire body shook as he started walking unsteadily forward.

It didn’t take long for him to reach a familiar tree.

It looked so very much like his willow.

An exact copy of his old best friend.

But it was not the same.

This crystalline figure was nothing but a cheap imitation.

And impostor.

Another sob echoed over the solid crystal ground.

The grass and the flowers within it, remained still.

As did the water of the waterfall.

And the starry sky now lacked its color.

It’s gleam now nothing more than the soft shine of light reflecting off of the softly glowing trees below it.

There were no purple balls of light, floating around and warbling their own little song.

There was no gentle breeze, filling the air with white petals and the smell of flowers.

Just an empty crystal copy of the place Virgil had left behind.

His knees cracked as he fell to them, his hands moving up and away from his mouth to grab at his hair.

His hair that was too dark.

He struggled to breathe as his sobbing became more violent, his chest heaving with the motion.

His chest which was covered now by sturdy leather, instead of soft cotton.

“i’m sorry”

His shadows rippled out of him, whipping violently at the hard ground around him, in response to his loss of control.

His shadows that would never warble at him in concern or curl around him as he slept or convince him to play tag when he was lonely or-

“I’M SORRY”

His screams echoed across the clearing.

Filling the silence in a way that only made the emptiness seem even more pronounced.

He screamed.

And cried.

And apologized.

Even though he knew that there was no one around to forgive him.

And there never would be.

Because this was his home now.

His realm.

His World.

And They was gone.

All that remained was a crystalline shell.

Covered in cracks.

-------------------------

(Well, there’s that.)

(I don’t really know what else to say about it.)

(So I guess I’ll just leave it at that.)

(Here’s the gen taglist)

@a-snoway-afternoon @ashrain5 @virgilscat @gumdrop2113@chelama @dragonsight9 @marse-422 @derpiest-unicorn @i-identify-as-a-mango @fearfilledvirgil @let-me-be-an-individual-rachet @blitzgamev @the-life-ofa-troubled-ace @satanblessi

(And here’s the series taglist.)

@ab-artist @madcatroyalty

(I feel like I messed up on that last tag...)

(But I don’t know how to fix it or find who asked to be tagged.)

(So it’s just gonna be what it is and I’ll just apologize if that person finds out about it.)

(Anyways, if you wanna be added to the either the general taglist or the series taglist, please feel free to ask.)

(Or, if I missed you on either list or you want to be taken off a list, please feel free to tell me and I’ll do my best to rectify the situation.)

(Also, if anyone feels like giving any kind of feedback, positive or negative, feel free to do so.)

(I always like hearing from you guys and knowing what I did right or wrong in a story.)

(Especially since I don’t always proofread stuff right away so there’s usually a few things wrong with it...)

(Again, anyways, I’ll just be going now.)

(Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed.)

A Bed of Links:

Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/Cerillen

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerillen/pseuds/Cerillen

Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCPz4p5XdoRESDKZeMDnWXFQ

Discord: https://discord.gg/FsUhc5f

Fiverr: https://www.fiverr.com/cerillen

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #mackenzie gulfin #that's right #i made this series impossibly more angsty #i'm just here to cause you pain #i'm literally crying #i basically forced virgil to lose his lifelong family #cuts deep bro #i'm not at all sorry #but also incredibly sorry at the same time #i'll proofread this later #probably #we'll see

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everlarkingjoshifer · 6 years

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Trump signed an executive order to abolish what he did....

I don’t normally come in here to post long political pieces. However, after the disgusting comments that I’ve read on social media as Democrats held a press conference to speak about children being ripped apart from their parents at the border, is more than I can take. So, because I am pretty fucking annoyed with all the baseless accusations, and major misinformation I would like to dispel erroneous conclusions along with the comments I have been seeing on social media.

Immigrants are taking our jobs!

No Becky, they’re not. Immigrants are bringing in jobs and taking the low wage, often dangerous and non-union jobs that YOU don’t want to take. How about you go pick those strawberries in the blazing heat for as little as 6$ an hour, doesn’t sound very appealing right? So if it’s not good enough for you because you want a cushy job, what makes you think Immigrants want to do it too? They don’t, but they’re so desperate to make a living that they’re willing to do anything so long as they can provide a better future for their own families, something you can easily understand. As a matter of fact, while you enjoy your burrito know that none of it would be possible if it wasn’t for an immigrant who brought in their culture and food to enrich our country. Yeah, that big old Mexican franchised fast food joint? Would not have existed for your high school kids to work at, so while your sitting on your ass enjoying someone else’s culture, know that none of it

would be possible without an immigrant.

Immigrants are taking our resources and our taxes pay for them to live here!

Noooo, Immigrant individuals cannot ever receive federal based help such as SSI. They can’t even get health insurance. Some states do hand out some help to aid immigrants but it would only be something as small as being able to use the WIC program which is very limited. (I’ve used it when I had just given birth). As a matter of fact, white citizens are amongst the highest percentage who receive federal assistance and immigrant people pay INTO our social security and taxes without hope of ever getting that money back. If you want to talk about needlessly spending your money on immigrants then you should definitely be against the barbaric procedures that are happening right the hell now. There are companies profiting from your taxpayer money in order to house children that didn’t need to be housed in the first place. It’s all a big scam and those 1 % who don’t really need the money are making millions that you’re paying into JUST because you want to be a paranoid idiot. It’s a pretty simple concept actually, it’s called security theater. Except this theater is of the Third Reich.

They’re bringing in disease!

See, now you just sound like a Nazi, and come on, we’re not exactly one to speak about diseases when you’re refusing to vaccinate your fucking kid because of “big pharma, unfounded conspiracies, and autism”. Cry me a fucking river, Shania. The whole notion of disease comes out of fear of the unknown but we cannot throw a stone at someone else knowing we do the same. We won’t vaccinate and now measles, chicken pox, whooping cough, and many other diseases are on the rise because you’d rather let your kid die than have autism, which by the way has been dispelled at every turn by various scientists.

Obama/ Bush administration were the ones who implemented the law of child separation.

Oh Brandon, you xenophobic dick. First of all the Obama and Bush administration NEVER placed an order of removal between the parents and their children. What is true is that there is no law saying these current atrocities have to be carried out. Crossing the border illegally is a misdemeanor that can get you jailed for up to 20 days or so and then you’re automatically sent to your country of origin. The immigrant parents who are caught with their children are never separated from them and there are no real lasting repercussions. If I was to take your reasoning into account then that would mean people who have had a DUI, or those who have been arrested for public disturbance should have their children taken away as well? Secondly, when the Obama administration implemented certain facilities to house kids it was due to an immense influx of unaccompanied minors who were immigrating to the USA by their damn selves. Most, of these children, were from Central America and were not deemed a threat to the nation after very careful vetting. These kids ranged between the ages of 12-17 years old and they were TEMPORARILY housed or often placed in foster homes with other immigrant adults till the Government could get a hold of their parent. Of course, everything wasn’t always handled perfectly as there were a ton of problems because sometimes the foster parents would refuse to answer their phones to various federally appointed counselors or even gave the Government the wrong information. Some of the facilities in which the children were housed were not as top notch as we expected and there were abuses happening at the time. But by that point, the children were really alone. They didn’t come in with their parents to protect them and sadly things didn’t always go the right way. The few kids who were separated from the adult were either trafficked here or were in deep danger of those adults that surrounded them

They should come here legally if they want to enter the country!

Kathy, you sad simpleton. Looking for Asylum is not against the law. Actually, the ports of entry for refugees are being blocked by ICE agents to deter them from reaching the United States legally. Usually, when an immigrant came to the port of entry looking for asylum they would have to bring proof which then they would be taken to a holding facility where their case was carefully reviewed and then after about a month or so they would either be allowed to stay or leave depending on the severity of their situation. Now, Looking for a way to come to the united states legally especially in countries that are extremely corrupt is very difficult. I myself applied for a visa in order to come to the united states twice and both times it was denied even though I was a 4-year-old child who was about to die of a severe heart condition. If it hadn’t been for a charitable company that had put their name behind me and petitioned for me to travel I would never have even set a foot in the United States and I would never be able to write this because I’d be dead by now. That’s how difficult everything is. The immigration system is so broken and instead of looking for a solution you shining citizens can only proclaim your distaste for a president that hasn’t been in office for over 2 years. Obama, Bush, or Clinton are no longer running the country. Take responsibility for the mistakes YOUR amoral president is making.

But MS-13!

Ms-13 is a Mexican terrorist group that has been used as a cop out to paint innocent people who are Latino and Hispanic in an unflattering light. Gang members don’t really want to come here, their profit is not here. They are already immensely powerful in Mexico, why leave if things are good for them? It makes no sense and if again I were to take your reasoning into consideration I would say that other countries should never allow an American entry because they could be from the KKK. What makes sense is to have a racist, xenophobic, sexist president using something like gang violence in order to disenfranchise a group of people who don’t match his ideas for the perfect immigrant. Case in point, he very clearly said he would like Europeans (meaning Caucasians) to immigrate here (They wouldn’t. Europe is not perfect but at least it has universal health care among other things.) Mexicans, meaning all Latino because that how you all like to categorize us not realizing that Latinos are very diverse but those of us who are brown in complexion are rapists, killers, we’re infesting the country, we’re bringing disease, we’re animals among other ludicrous things Trump has said about the Latino community and for the record, not all immigrants are Mexican. Most at this point are from Central America. It's the same as not all Asians are Chinese, not all black people are thugs and not all white men who wear penny loafers are entitled pricks who call on their daddies to fix their problems. You see how stereotypes work? Those of you who applaud him while desecrating the flag by wearing it as a shirt or bandana and eating off of flag emblazoned paper plates like to think you’re somehow better and patriotic because you won the lottery by being born here. It’s as simple as that and if you want the immigrants to fix their problems back home maybe tell your government not to meddle in their democratic systems. It’s a cop-out to make yourselves feel better about the atrocities that are happening.

Build the WALL!

Yes Brayden, because a wall is gonna stop a bunch of plane riding immigrants to come to the United States. Newsflash, most people who end up here illegally came here legally through a visa but overstayed their welcome. Most of the people who came here otherwise, seek asylum, which is not illegal. There are actually very few people who cross the border illegally and stay here. No one wants to leave their life, culture, and language behind unless it’s absolutely necessary. The wall will stop nothing. Separating kids and now babies from their parents have not deterred the parents from continuing their long arduous trips to the United States. The wall only serves as a trophy for the GOP to pat themselves on the back and say what good little legislators they are. It’s a sign of oppression and a sign of unwelcoming. It’s as if I had a picture of Jesus in my living room but a satanic altar in the next room. It’s counterproductive and we’re the ones who are gonna pay for it. Mexico will pay for nothing even if Trump is holding these children hostages. The procedures are very eerily being carried out in much the same way the Nazi's carried out their atrocities. First, they block all potential legal ways for the marginalized group to carry out their mission legally. Then, they used false rhetoric and fear monger civilians so that the marginalized group can be dehumanized and therefore easier for the government to carry out whatever it is they are planning without dissent. Then they sanitize the living conditions in which the immigrant group are living in. Finally, they discredit or all accounts that are cited by reputable resources in order to keep the masses confused and ignorant. It's exactly what happened when the Japanese were placed in internment camps.

Immigrants will never assimilate to our way of life!

Say the people whose grandpappy’s and Nanas never learned English and continued to live their lives the way they did in Poland. English is not a designated American language. No language has been designated to the USA, you morons.

Immigrants should look for a way to legalize their situation.

Ok, how about you fork over $20,000 while working a minimum wage job that you can’t quit from no matter how bad it is because if you do there’s nowhere else for you to work at without breaking the Law. Immigration lawyers are some of the worst wolves in sheep’s clothing I have ever met. I spend about $10,000 just to get a green card while having nowhere else to live but at my Mother in law’s tiny ass house in the middle of the ghetto while pregnant. I slept on the floor with my husband because the place was so small we couldn’t even put a bed in there, much less afford one. When I was about to apply for citizenship my Lawyer up and left after I had paid her the money to file in the citizenship paperwork. She disappeared and I have no way of recuperating my paperwork from her. Thankfully no everything was lost but I am not an isolated incident, there are countless stories of people who have been duped by lawyers and there are more fast food joint in the USA than immigration courthouses. So you guys do the fucking math. It takes so much of you and so long for you to even reach the tip of what American citizens expect from you.

They broke the law, therefore they should pay the consequences.

We break the law every single day Khayyley, it's not an exaggeration or even something that I'm making up. I live in Connecticut and lord do we have some ridiculous laws like, husbands who cannot kiss their wives on any Sunday. If a cyclist goes above 65 MPH they have be stopped by a police officer and we're not allowed to educate dogs. (lol, what?) Anyway, the point is we don't get citations, incarcerated or even have enforcement carried out for the most menial lawlessness so why should we punish these kids who have done nothing wrong? This used to be the country that was known for checks and balances, the country of separation of church and state. Somewhere along the way, we've lost ourselves and we've become the country of checks and cherry picking. The country that puts babies in cages and we don't allow the staff to offer any comfort. These are not "summer camps" and we shouldn't find a way to sanitize the word cage but we have gone so far off the deep end and our expectations for our leaders are so low that we may as well be licking the ground. These are kids who are screaming for their mothers and fathers who may never see them again just for committing the sin of being born brown, something that they obviously have no control over. It's a harrowing reality but their voices are falling on deaf ears as politicians use the bible to excuse their horrid laws as they smile because they're the ones all cozy with big fat paychecks provided by their citizens. We're duped into thinking that these current politicians have our best interest at heart when in actuality they don't. Just because an abusive parent says they care about you doesn't mean they actually do. The GOP is a cesspool of corrupt, self-serving, amoral group of people with Trump at the head.

Our Lawmakers are making due with what they were handed.

How, exactly how have we been improving the country? The rich are getting richer while the poor still have to rely on governmental help that is slowly dwindling while those very same poor people have to deal with being called moochers. Our children are dying off at alarming rates because our government wants to continue catering to the NRA's demands as they go about spreading baseless lies and flimsy excuses for mass shootings. Our healthcare system is a fucking joke and we sit idly by as Men in power oppress our women because they don't want to bring a child into a world full of problems that cannot be easily fixed. We cater to our very own terrorists who use the bible in order to justify themselves and call it "freedom of speech" yet we call people color sons of bitches for simply daring to protest peacefully for the flagrant disenfranchisement of his fellow people. We slap the, what about isms and point fingers to others without realizing we're the ones putting them in those positions while simultaneously squashing the education system in order to keep future voters ignorant. Republicans can't be voted in if we have intellectuals willing to question their agendas. It's much easier to have dumb, compliant, narrow-minded morons in order for them to make that money. Can't you see what it is they're doing? They are dehumanizing these people and saying that they're all criminals and or will become criminals in the future so that the white elitists can feel alleviated of all culpability in order for them to be able to sell their soul to the administration that is quietly pocketing civilian's money. Money, that they say will go to charities but never do. It doesn't matter if these kids have television, air conditioners, or even a meal because they have been so traumatized by being ripped apart from their parents that even if they were being housed at the Ritz Carlton the practices would still be inhumane.

But Trump signed the executive order, stop complaining already.

Wow Tammy, first of all, he didn't need to. Separating children from their parents is not a law, never has been. The separation of children who were accompanied by an adult usually happened if the child was found to have been a product of human trafficking, which by the way, has a very low percentage. Instead, the manner in which these kids are being handled now is more cause for worry because they can fall prey to actual human traffickers. Case in point, the over 1,000 children that were mysteriously lost and haven't been found yet and no one has any clue where or how they might have disappeared. It's insane for you to think that just because these kids are in these prison camps they're somehow being treated correctly. These children only see the light of day for 2 hours and the rest they spend it inside and security measures have been implemented to keep the child from escaping as if they were high-security inmates. They're being treated like prisoners and now they're being forcefully injected with psychiatric drugs in order to keep them from crying. I don't think I need to tell you about the long-term repercussions these drugs can have but I will anyway. It can cause obesity, adult onset diabetes, dizziness, listlessness, and are left incapacitated. Easy prey for any trafficker. it's callously barbaric. These kids are set up for a plethora of mental health problem that will never go away. This new executive order was unnecessary and Trump just needed to feel like a dictator because that's what he truly wants. He doesn't believe in a democracy. He values people like Stalin and Kim Jung Un and insults our allies (sorry Canada!). The paper he signed keeps families together yes, but at the cost of their freedom because they are to be kept in what I would guess to be newly built facilities that will most definitely be paid by us for an indefinite period of time as opposed to deporting them back to their countries after about 20 days. It'll be a real concentration camp and I wouldn't be surprised if gas chambers and fire pits begin to appear all over the United States and all Latino immigrants are rounded up regardless of whether they are legally here or not.

We should worry about our own citizens instead of immigrants who are only a distraction to our own problems.

You're right up to a point. We should definitely worry about our citizens and maybe worry about our very own problems that plague our nation, yet we don't. We should be working towards implementing Gun control and worrying about human rights abuses towards people of color, but we don't. Instead, we blame those very people that are being needlessly maligned because we'd rather think it's their fault as opposed to us saying that we fucked up, that we cannot do enough to help our own people. Immigrants aren't looking to distract us from our own problems but the GOP sure is using that scapegoat in order to confuse us and turn us into megalomaniacs who claim to care for this country while rationalizing the heinous laws that this administration is implementing. Understand that just because I sympathize with the plight of immigration it doesn't negate my love or even my worries for the problems that are in my country. I love this country and I'm thankful to this country for all its wonderful opportunities. I believe we can be better and I don't think we're perfect but we're definitely capable of being great indeed. It was before and I'm sure we can be now and in the future.

Listen, all I’m trying to really say is that the things that are happening are beyond horrible and at such an alarming speed that I am scared for the future of my country. This president is giving a pathway for all the fascists to wave their flag and complain about how they suffer at the cost of people they refuse to understand or even get to know. It's giving way for racists to be open about their disgusting assumptions by calling it honesty, and "well I'm just telling it like it is, and everyone else was thinking it, anyway".

Just like President Snow from the Hunger Games, Trump is using children to shield himself and get what he wants. This is no longer a, “I wonder what a dystopian future would be like.” situation we are there already. This is the Handmaid’s Tale. This the Hunger Games. This is Nazi Germany, and the trail of tears coming to fruition all over again and we’re allowing it. So, come November if you do not vote blue and later regret not doing so then it will be entirely your fault that this once great country will crumble and burn to the ground with only the ashes to left as a reminder of what it once was. Our founding fathers would ashamed of us and we should too. Have a little humanity and compassion but if you're not capable of that, at least know that your stance will follow not just you but your entire lineage till the end of time just like the Nazi regime was because you are most definitely on the wrong side of history.

#Trump #child separation #concentration camps #immigration

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kadyshackkk-blog · 6 years

Text

Final Reckoning Episode One Review plus a little info from seasons past.

Hello World! Mtv’s Hit The Challenge Returned Tuesday July 10, 2018 at 9pm! This season is “the end of the challenge as we know it”. Which as of right now I’m calling total b.s. since well mtv the last few season has been “recreating” older seasons ie; The Challenge Invasion of the champions, a very sad and terrible attempt to recreate the iconic The Ruins. Then we went into Dirty 30, the longest season in existence and a horrible rip off of Free Agents which in my opinion was the last great season of the show. In the dirty 30 we had something called the purge aka lets fuck Darrell over and allow a bunch of idiots to run the show. Yes I am still bitter because Darrell was robbed out of a title that season and instead our winners were a racist and an anti feminist douche lord, I mean Camila and Jordan. Then we slide into Vendettas after that tragic second season of Champs V stars, which we won’t even talk about since it was a bunch of d list celebrities who i didnt even know and well the terrell owens aka the biggest bitch in the nfl. Moving along, on Vendettas we received a much needed invasion of new people from big brother and mtv uk! Be warned I have never watched mtv Uk shows or any big brother so I had zero idea who these people were but I was excited to see them! We also got from season 5 of are you the one Kam, Eddie, and Alicia. I loved that season of ayto and the people they chose to come onto vendettas made total sense. But what didn’t make any sense at all was the poor get rid of eddie they did. Now I will only say this once and the source that told me this is very credible since he was on their season of ayto he also doesn’t like either person involved however he dislikes eddie more. Simple fact is Alicia Lied, plan and simple. There was never a restraining order or anything of that nature. You can look it up online its public information in every state. Moving on from that, the additions from the uk were all very attractive, and before you gasp and say even Kyle?! Yes even Kyle , I feel like he looks better in person then he does on tv. The fights that season we’re beyond annoying . This was my face anytime Kailah or nicole spoke or were on my tv screen

I give them both a chance every season they are on but they always make me regret giving said chance. The luggage throwing incident pissed me the fuck off. & Before you all go WeLL cArA dID iT To JOrdAn guess what she put a waterproof bag of his clothes in water omg get over it. Jemmeye Kailah & Britni Ganged up on kayleigh because of a rumor about her and bananas that Devin started to get Johnny thrown into elimination. It was not okay, it is never okay to touch someone elses belongings ever. I do not care, her stuff was broken and none of the actual apologized for it.

Now for what you came for my review of the Challenge Final Reckoning Episode 1

First off I was hoping this season was a team season sadly it was just a rip off of the Rivals series which was only decent for rivals 1 and 2. Rivals 3 was ridiculous and a waste of time and energy. In the beginning we see everyone show up and Tj is all like guess what your partner is buried and you have to find them! oh and the last two teams will be sent home ending their time in south africa. Me as a view knowing damn well tj is full of shit

We see Zach dig up his partner Amanda first. Listen I was very excited to hear that Amanda was coming back this season! I really was until all the twitter beef with cara, and unless you’ve been living under a rock you know exactly what I am talking about. (hint him and amanda won the challenge wooooooooh)

Here is everyones partnerships.

Zach & Amanda; Their beef seems a little forced since it’s about Amanda “making up” lies about jenna that even jenna confirmed was true. This team will go far if Zach learns how to work well with women.

Angela & Faith; I honestly don’t understand their beef, really over tor’i really. irrelevant ass team. Angela doesn’t have that same energy she did with Alicia when it comes to Shane and Kam. They won’t go far unless someone (cough cough angela sleeps with someone in power, pulling a veronica in the ruins when she hooked up with my favorite toothbrush twin evan.)

Dj Bald I mean Brad & hair plugs pathological liar I mean kyle; THIS TEAM MAKES ZERO SENSE YALL DEADASS MADE SOME SHIT UP. UHM HELLOOO DARRELL TAYLOR DID NOT WHOOP THAT ASS ON THE RUINS FOR ZERO REASON. Like mtv please stop calling kyle , he literally makes me want to stab him daily.

Cara & Marie; Listen these two have serious dislike for each other over a fucking tweet cara liked & it makes sense they are together. I honestly think this team will do well if Marie Actually fucking tries which i think she will. Tbh marie did campaign to be caras Partner.. However I feel like we as viewers deserved a coral cara team. Those two are both very strong women who need to work out their issues and become civil because I personally love them both.

Ct & Veronica; An og team, ct called v weak but she won more daily challenges then the majority of the girls on dirty 30 . A team to actually fear if they try and win

Derrick & Tori; Yasssss my boo derrick is back!!!!!! Don’t tell tyler but i adore derrick and think hes amazing. I really like tori as well but her taste in men is just as questionable as mine. Back story tori cheated on derrick with jordan. therefor they don’t like each other.

Bananas & ??? : THIS LITERALLY COULD BE ANYBODY. I’m hoping its sarah so he can break his curse and retire because honestly no one can touch his record unless Landon came out of retirement or if production doesn’t keep fucking over darrell

Joss & Sylvia the sheep; Joss is Hot , and he voted sheep into the elimination and she got mad. damn well knowing she would’ve done the same thing. they do great.

Kam & Melissa; I love this team, this “rivalry” started over a misunderstanding I’m hoping they do well...

Natalie & Paulie; I don’t care enough to waste my time

Nelson & Shane; I’m actually started to like nelson, my dislike for him comes from my loyalty to tyler.. I love shane he is the sassy gay bff that I need in my life. This team will do well if nelson and shane both keep themselves in check

Mama Day & Jozea; I’ve never watched big brother but this team is by far my favorite big brother pairing, I follow both on twitter and they make me laugh daily. underdogs i stan

Britni & Chuck; The hotmess express team. Clearly still feelings there, chuck sucks for what he did to her, they will need to find a way to get past their issues

Jenna & Jemmeye; One of the best moves in challenge history caused this feud. they will do well, jemmeyes brain and jennas brawn.

Kailah & Kayleigh; Failah likes to bully others kayleigh was her victim last season. they’ll probably be out pretty early..

Now to the results of the challenge

Amanda and Zach won.

I’m not to sure about the rest of the order except for the fact Day & Jozea came in last but before jem & Jenna and Chuck & britni.

it was chucks fault him and brit lost

it was jennas fault her and jem lost

but was anyone really in shock

So then we hear bananas yelling for help since his partner left due to family emergency everyone goes digs him up and if it was up to me he wouldve been sent “home” and not brit and chuck since they almost beat day and jozea.. after they get bananas hoe ass out tj announces that amanda and zach are able to send another team home! And out of all the teams these two dumb asses pick day and jozea. like uhm helllooooooo!!! ya’ll deadass had the chance to send send strong teams home... I can’t the stupidity of these two i can’t. SO then the three teams leave and “go home”. Everyone goes to the house and already a fight breaks out between shane and angela, over a fucking shelf. Homegirl didn’t have the energy with shane like she did with Alicia , but we already knew she was a fraud. Then cut to outside where Joss and amanda are already flirting with each other. I will give credit is due, Amanda is a beautiful girl but has a very ugly soul and joss is very smart to hookup with her, camera time is everything and why not hook up with one of the most dramatic cast members ever. Cut to Syliva saying this could go great for her alliance or terribly for her alliance at least shes smart. The Que the amanda and joss makeout session. Then we cut to bananas cara and hair plugs talking about cara and kyle. Everything out of kyles mouth is a lie and garbage. Kyle states hes gonna sleep with other people and caras like cool whatever . The cut to faith and hairplugs making out, then faith gets into hottub and johnny being johnny brings it up in front of cara, and cara pulls a queen move by being like if he doesnt want me im not gonna wait around. boy bye best choice shes ever made. Then baby girl proceeded to go into a room and make herself look bad by trying to get at paulie. Like oh no baby what is you doing go to sleep and leave him alone..

Then we cut to the best part of the night in my opinion, first we see melissa walk in and try to be civil with kailah, failah wants zero part in it but melissa still tries because melissa wants to be nice then failah pushes melissa and melissa molly whopped her then they were pulled apart

Everyone but kailah stans on twitter

Then the teams who were “sent home” arrive at the redemption house and tj explains some shit i wasn’t paying attention because i didnt care at that point

Then they go to the photoshoot day and Tj shows up which is never good..

Tells melissa and kailah they are both out ..

Now we dont know kam and kayleighs fate, we find out next week..

Over all this episode was awesome , the cliffhanger was needed , we had a fight some hook ups and a twist.

this season will be interesting to say the least.

#mtv the challenge #final reckoning

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senior70 · 3 years

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The WHO African Region Certified as Polio Free August 2020

A Word or Two to the AntiVaxx Community

It was the summer of 1954, and I as a twelve year old was looking forward to eight weeks of summer vacation and all the adventures that would bring with my friends. But, it was not to be. I and three other boys from my school were identified as having been in close contact with a boy who had developed the symptoms of Polio (Poliomyelitis), an infectious disease that left many survivors permanently crippled or damaged by paralysis in some way. The disease was initially referred to as “Infantile Paralysis”.

In 1947 Britain experienced a Polio epidemic and every subsequent summer, a wave of infections soared, particularly targeting young people, though also adults. It was a devastating disease, often with life long and life changing consequences. Though, at first it was not known how the disease was transmitted, it was clear that it was primarily a summer season disease and that swimming pools and beaches were, in particular, associated with rapid spread. Many were closed in an effort to dampen the spread.

That summer of 1954 I was to remain confined for six weeks to my house and garden, unable to see friends and unable to swim, my favourite sport. As it happened, I did not develop symptoms and the boy in question was one of the fortunate ones who recovered without actual paralysis, though how its lingering side effects affected his adult life I do not know.

In 1955, the Salk vaccine became available in injectable form (the oral Sabin vaccine followed in 1962) and in 1956 Britain embarked on a massive vaccination programme. I still recall that my class was one day interrupted and we were all shepherded to the school nursing station and lined up as several visiting nurses prepared for us. One by one we were vaccinated. I am sure the needles in those days were not sharp, the exhortation of the nurse “this won’t hurt” being entirely a white lie. In the days that followed most boys experienced side effects and some missed school for a few days. I recall that there followed a ‘booster dose’ at a later date. To this day I can show you the faint ‘polio scar’ still on my upper left arm.

To my knowledge, the mass vaccination of children in Britain was mandatory and it was claimed that by the end of the mid 1950’s campaign 99 out of 100 children had been vaccinated for Polio. In the years following, the number of cases dramatically fell, the last outbreak being in the late 70’s. The UK was declared Polio free in 1984.

As a British child I was vaccinated at various times for a number of other diseases. The list reads “Vaccine against Meningococcal B. Vaccines against Meningococcal C, Hib (Haemophilus Influenzae Type B) and Pneumococcal Disease. 4 in 1 (diphtheria, tetanus, whooping cough (pertussis) and polio), plus MMR (measles, mumps and rubella) vaccine.”

Polio was eliminated in the Americas by 1994, in 36 Western Pacific countries, including China and Australia, in 2000, Europe in 2002 and India in 2014. But Polio remained a scourge in many other parts of the world, particularly in Africa (75,000 children paralysed in 1996), and as long as the disease flourished somewhere, the danger of reappearance of polio in polio free countries remained. It could be only a plane journey away. The two vaccines have eliminated polio from most of the world, and reduced the number of cases reported, world wide, each year from an estimated 350,000 in 1988 to 33 in 2018.

A global effort to eradicate Polio, led by the The World Health Organization(WHO), UNICEF and the Rotary International Foundation, began in 1988, and has relied largely on the oral polio vaccine.The Global Alliance for Vaccines and Immunisation supplies the inactivated vaccine to developing countries for as little as €0.75 (about US$0.86) per dose (2015) in 10-dose vials.

Since the Rotary Polio Plus program started in 1988, Jenny and I, as Rotarians, have given annually to this campaign. Rotary members around the word have donated about US$ 890 million to date. The program in Africa was hugely assisted on the ground by many of the 32,000 Rotarians of the 1,400 Rotary Clubs in the 47 countries making up the WHO African Region. Rotarians, as members of a Non-Governmental Organization have been key to delivering and administering the more than 9 billion vaccine doses, especially to populations in both remote and politically unstable areas, often at some risk to themselves.

In August 2020 The World Health Organization declared Africa free of Polio. It is a huge milestone for the Global Alliance, but the work must continue.

————

I have no patience whatsoever with the AntiVaxx community, and make no apology for it. Their minds are closed, facts, common sense, and social sensitivity unable to penetrate the barriers of selfish ignorance and the depths of social irresponsibility. That they do not want to be vaccinated is one thing, but the recent invasion and forced closing down of a Covid-19 clinic by AntiVaxx people, whose goal was to prevent others from being vaccinated, is grossly reprehensible and utterly inexcusable.

Their common cry is that vaccines can cause the very diseases they claim to protect one from. Technically, they have a moot point, but in their fanatic ignorance, they fail to comprehend the elementary matter of probability or risk assessment.

I quote here from an article I wrote on Vaccinations and posted on my blog in December 2017.

“Inside a small farm, sitting in the isolation of the vast steppes of Russia, a family sat around the table at dinner. In the midst of the usual family cross conversations, father suddenly spun away from the table, crashing to the floor as if felled by a rifle shot. In fact he had been killed by a meteorite, in this case a pea sized fragment that had penetrated the roof of the building and after passing through his skull, had punctured the floor, burying itself in the ground below.

It has been estimated that the lifetime odds of dying from a local meteorite, asteroid, or comet impact is about 1 in 1,600,000, taking into consideration that larger impacts can alone cause thousands of deaths. In comparison, the chance of being killed by lightning is 1 in 161,856. Few people sit down to dinner in fear of being killed by a meteorite. Indeed, few, probably, have even given the possibility a thought.”

World wide, many billions of doses of the two vaccines have been administered. Since 2000 there have been 760 cases of the vaccine causing polio (cVDPV), in most not overly severe. The probability of the oral polio vaccine causing a child to contract polio, based on the rounded figure of 10 billion doses, is 1 in 13,157,894. Even rounded to 1 in 10 million, the risk is minuscule indeed and is greatly outweighed by the saving of so many children from the crippling disease of polio and the real possibility of global eradication.

The probability of dying in a road accident is 1 in 106 and in the US, the probability of dying in a gun related incident is 1 in 298. (https://injuryfacts.nsc.org/all-injuries/preventable-death-overview/odds-of-dying/)

Rather than irrationally refuse to be vaccinated because of the minuscule chance of a negative outcome, and perhaps become a carrier of diseases that may not show as symptoms in the carrier but are infectious to others with whom they are in contact, the next time those who refuse vaccinations sit down to dinner, they should apprehensively glance at the ceiling and consider their chances of completing the meal before being killed by a meteorite. Certainly, they should never drive, perhaps never even venture out of the house. Indeed, their self isolation would be greatly advantageous to the majority of us that have knowledge, respect science, understand risk and have a sense of social responsibility.

senior70

February 2021. 117

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motivationsuccess · 5 years

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Believe in Yourself! You’re Worth it! by Stuart Goldsmith

Stuart Goldsmith

Belief is the first and most important secret of happiness and success.

How much do you believe in yourself? How much do you think that other people or circumstances control your life?

Right now, at this very moment, you are reading this sentence at a certain stage in your life. Think about your life for a minute or two.

Think about the financial side, for a start. How well off are you? Take a look around you at your possessions; think about your bank balance and savings account (if you have either), think about your total wealth.

Now do a little exercise: On a piece of paper, add up your total wealth, (this can be done in a very short period of time).

Do it roughly; there's no need to be exact. Write down your big assets first, with an approximate price next to them, then your most expensive possessions, then the approximate value of your other possessions.

The result could look something like this:

House (less mortgage owing) £25,000 Car £1,000 Total savings £2,500 T.V. £200 Video £300 Jewellery £1,000 Household equipment (cooker etc) £2,000 HI-FI £200 Other household items £3,000 All furniture £5,000 Clothes £2,500

TOTAL £42,700

You may think that the person in the above example is rich, or poor, depending upon your own circumstances. That doesn't matter; just write down your own figures and add them up.

Please don't skip this exercise or any of the others which I suggest; they are a vital part of your training. I know the temptation is just to carry on reading; but fight it! Take time out to do the exercises; they will pay huge dividends.

Now look at your total. How do you feel about your total financial worth? Are you happy or unhappy about it at this stage of your life?

The chances are that you would like to do better; probably a lot better.

Now I want you to try something: Imagine being in a better financial position. Strongly visualise yourself driving the car you really want or living in the house you have always desired; spend a little time over this until you can really imagine yourself in this better position.

Now ask yourself a vital question:- "Do I believe that I am worth this?" Ask yourself this question now. Think about it for as long as it takes to come up with an answer; (and that can be a surprisingly long time for such a simple question).

Think about the house or the room(s) where you live. The chances are that you want a better place to live, I have never met anyone who didn't; so think about the next step up for you.

If you live in one room, imagine your own self-contained flat.

If you live in a flat, or a semi, imagine that you are in your own detached house.

If you live in a detached house, think about a larger one with more rooms in a more exclusive area. Hold the image in your mind and ask yourself, "Am I worth it? Do I deserve this?"

Don't be distracted by practical considerations of how you might achieve this step forward, just ask yourself if you believe that you deserve it.

If the answer is an emphatic "YES!" then great; you are well on your way to achieving more. If the answer comes back as "NO" or you are unsure, then join the club of millions of people who have not yet started to believe in themselves. Right now you are totally trapped by your lack of belief. No wonder you don't have the things you want - like a nicer place to live. You don't believe that you are worth it!

Until you start believing in your own worth, there is not a single chance in ten thousand that you will ever achieve the happiness you really deserve. Why? Because no matter how hard your conscious self works towards achieving these things, your subconscious knows that you are not worth it! Your subconscious will go to great lengths to sabotage all your efforts and ensure failure - your conscious and subconscious minds will not be working as a team!

In fact they will be pulling in opposite directions, like a tug of war. Unlike most tug of wars, where the teams are evenly balanced, in this case the odds are highly uneven because the subconscious ALWAYS WINS...unless you use the correct methods.

What will happen if your conscious mind is trying to improve your lot in life, but your subconscious mind is working, like an underground resistance organisation, to foil your plans?

I'll tell you. Your best laid plans and efforts will 'accidentally' come to grief. You will make silly mistakes which will ensure failure. You will have a terrible run of 'bad luck', or maybe sudden ill-health will prevent you from attending a vital meeting, or going on holiday, or something else which is important to you.

In short, your subconscious mind will try every trick going to ensure that your efforts are neutralised. And it WILL win.

Your conscious mind knows nothing at all about these secret plans of sabotage and mayhem! It thinks that it is trying really hard to achieve the things it wants. It can't understand why things keep going wrong. It is amazed that every time it gets close to achieving a major goal, something always seems to go wrong at the last minute!

After trying for a few times and failing, the conscious mind will start calling "FOUL!" and begin blaming external agencies for its downfall. You will start complaining about "bad luck" and "everyone being against you"; eventually you will reach the rational conclusion that there is no point in trying any more!

Then you will give up.

In fact the conscious mind was right. A foul was being committed, but it came from a member of its own team! Instead of looking outside for the offender, the conscious mind should have been looking inside!

Handsomely Equipped to Fail

I know a man who, outwardly, is a very successful businessman and a brilliant salesman. I worked with this man for many years and I always admired his enthusiasm and dedication to his business. He worked really hard - sometimes twelve hours a day and most weekends. This man was going places.

Outwardly he appeared to believe in himself and what he was doing. He knew that he wanted to be a millionaire and to run a large, successful company; and he knew how to get there.

I'll be honest with you and tell you that I wanted to be like this man; he seemed so sure of himself and where he was going.

I'm only glad now that I didn't follow too closely in his footsteps!

The first disaster came after I had known him for only a year. His business suffered a terrible setback and nearly went bust, resulting in him having to work even harder in order to save the company. I felt really sorry for his 'bad luck', but also somewhat puzzled about how the disaster could have happened in the first place. It seemed to me that he had made a number of fundamental business mistakes.

Then other 'accidents' started to happen. Some time after he had saved the business, things started to look really good for him. His enthusiasm increased and he redoubled his efforts to make a success of it. All the ingredients were there and the business started to take off.

But whoops! Disaster struck again, and knocked him back down to a level lower than he had initially started from.

This cycle happened at least five times, and it became obvious to me that this was not a coincidence! No-one could have so much bad luck; it had to be sabotage! I watched the man carefully during all of this, and began to notice how he was subconsciously sabotaging himself to ensure failure.

That's right! He was ensuring his own failure! Why? Because although consciously he was trying really hard for success, subconsciously he didn't believe that he was worth it, and so consequently his subconscious took the necessary steps to ensure that he failed! This man did not have a Positive Self Image.

I watched him trying to sell a large order, at boardroom level, to a major Corporation; he was brilliant. The people liked him, they liked his company and his product; they were ready to sign an order worth tens of thousands of pounds. All he needed to do was to shut up!

Instead, to my horror, he carried on selling! He started inventing wilder and wilder reasons why they should give him the business, (they were ready to anyway). He went on and on and on...

At first, the gathered executives started to look bored, then incredulous. One or two even suppressed a laugh. In short, he had blown the deal and turned a certain order into a disaster.

Furthermore, he could not seem to understand what he had done wrong!

At another sales-pitch, I watched him sell over one hundred thousand pound's worth of equipment to a major U.K. company. This equipment was to be distributed to every office of the company and would help them to increase sales. Again, he had closed the deal and they were ready to sign, but at this point he introduced his 'master plan which, he explained to the assembled buyers, was one further reason why they should buy from him.

This 'master plan consisted of a method of servicing the equipment, (located all over the country), at a low cost to the client.

His proposal? To use senior citizens to do the servicing, because, he explained, they had plenty of spare time and could make use of cheap rail concessions to travel to service calls at half price!

The assembled audience went very quiet, waiting for the punch-line - which never came. It gradually dawned on them that he was serious, and a few embarrassed coughs signalled the loss of another large order.

I haven't seen this man for several years, but the last I heard he had lost his house and practically everything he owned.

To this day, I'm sure that he still has no idea at all why he failed.

He's probably starting another company right now, and hoping that he has better 'luck'.

Digging Holes

I have told you about this man in some detail because I want you to understand that it is not enough just to say that you believe in yourself; you must really believe in yourself.

It is not enough to work really hard towards your goals. As you have seen from my story, hard work brought my friend nothing but disaster.

To give a silly example: You could work hard all week long digging a large hole in the ground, then work hard all the following week filling it in again! You would have put two weeks of solid effort into something and achieved nothing!

Most people spend a lot of their lives digging holes and filling them in again.

As I said right at the beginning of this chapter, the actual work associated with achieving your goals represents only twenty-five percent of the task. Believing in yourself, believing that you are worth it, represents over 50% of the task. That is why I am dwelling on this important subject. If you do not truly believe that you are worth it, all your hard work will come to nothing. You will be like my friend, working hard, day after day, trying, striving and sweating towards your goals, when all along, your subconscious mind is assuring your failure.

IF YOU DON'T BELIEVE IN YOURSELF YOU ARE HANDSOMELY EQUIPPED TO FAIL!

No amount of effort on your part will assure your success. Not even luck will work. If your Great-Aunt Aggie left you a fortune, and yet you didn't believe that you were worth leaving it to, then within a short while it would be gone, slipping away through your fingers, frittered away on useless schemes and ideas.

Two Types of Belief

I have talked a little bit about one type of belief, the belief in your fundamental worth as a human being, the belief that you deserve all the things you are striving for. This type of belief stems from having a Positive Self Image.

I have called this type of belief PSI-belief, (Positive Self Image Belief). It is the single most important factor in achieving success and MUST be obtained before you can succeed.

Later, I'll show you how to increase your PSI-belief to a point where you can achieve all of your dreams and ambitions.

The other type of belief is your belief in your ABILITY to achieve your goals. This type of belief is easier to get than PSI-belief, but it is an equally important ingredient of your success equation.

I call this belief I-CAN belief.

Both PSI and I-CAN are ESSENTIAL before you can succeed.

Both of these beliefs must be in place before you can start seriously working towards your major life-goals.

PSI BELIEF IS BELIEF IN YOURSELF

I-CAN BELIEF IS BELIEF IN YOUR ABILITIES

These two beliefs are quite distinct and separate from one another. The first is much more important than the second, and far harder to obtain; but I repeat that BOTH must be obtained before you can succeed.

My friend in the story was lacking in PSI-belief but he did have I-CAN belief. His lack of PSI meant that he did not believe that he deserved to succeed; he didn't think that he was worth it.

I-CAN is your belief in your ability to achieve something.

Whilst it rests upon the foundation of PSI it is a more intellectual and rational belief.

Interestingly enough, my friend was not lacking in this second type of belief; he genuinely, (and correctly), believed in his sales ability. But he was severely lacking in PSI-belief, so whilst he knew what he wanted, and believed in his ability to get it, he didn't believe that he was worth it - so he failed.

Because this is such an important point, I want to summarise what I have just said:

PSI-belief is concerned with how you feel inside about yourself. It is about having a Positive Self Image; knowing that you deserve more, that you are worth it.

I-CAN belief is concerned with convincing yourself that you are ABLE to achieve your goals.

I want you to clearly understand the difference between these two types of belief, so let me give you an example which will help you:

Mary, David and Sue have always longed to go on a skiing holiday. Mary is lacking in both PSI and I-CAN belief. Let's hear what she has to say:

MARY: "I would love to go on a skiing holiday but I have so much to do at home, there's the dog to feed as well, and it would be selfish of me to take a break whilst the children are so young. Anyway, I'm really clumsy; I'd never get the hang of it.”

TRANSLATION: "My needs are less important than a dog's and I couldn't do it anyway."

David is lacking in PSI-belief: Let's listen to him:

DAVID: "Skiing is for rich people, not for the likes of us. Pity really because I'm sure I would be good at it."

TRANSLATION: "I'm a second class citizen and I'm going to make sure that I stay that way. I don't doubt my abilities though."

Sue is lacking in I-CAN belief. Here's what she might say:

SUE: "A holiday is a really great idea. I deserve a break after the year I've just had. The children can go to my Mother's, she'd love to have them and the change would do them good. Does it have to be skiing though? You have to be really athletic and muscular don't you?"

TRANSLATION: "I feel good about myself inside and know that I am worth this break. However, I have doubts about my abilities, and I'm a bit scared of this unknown challenge."

These examples should help you to understand how different the two beliefs are.

I am now going to tell you something which you might find surprising: PSI-belief is to do with FEELINGS and EMOTIONS about yourself, and is not easily improved by logical argument, whereas I-CAN belief is more rational, and is open to logical argument.

This becomes obvious when we look at our erstwhile skiing friends.

No amount of rational, logical argument about how easy it is to ski, how cheap the kennels are, or how much the children might enjoy her being away, will convince MARY to go on this holiday.

Why? Because she doesn't think she is worth it! All this talk of dogs and children is just a smoke screen to give her an excuse for not going.

If I did try to convince her, the conversation would go something like this:

ME: "Mary, why don't you take this break, you deserve it!"

MARY: "But who would look after the dog?"

ME: "There are plenty of excellent kennels close by, but if you don't fancy them then I could look after it for you."

MARY: "Thanks; but it's not just the dog. Don't forget I'm a Mother and have certain responsibilities to my children. I can't just get up and leave them."

ME: "Sure you can! They're old enough now, and you've told me many times that your Mother would love to have them."

MARY: "That's true, but I couldn't really afford to go. There are so many other things I should spend my money on, like clothes for the children."

ME: "Why not spend it on yourself just this once?"

MARY: "Anyway, I couldn't leave the house empty for all that time, there are lots of burglaries around here."

And on and on and on! One excuse after another. Do you see what I mean? Mary's practical problems are purely incidental to the central message which runs through her every sentence. This message is: "I'm not worth it. I should spend money on other people not me. I don't deserve a holiday."

Do you see that no amount of rational talking or explanation can help Mary?

SUE, however, is a different proposition. She has a fundamentally Positive Self Image; all she needs is a little convincing and reassurance. I could probably persuade her to go if I told her about the easy slopes, the beginner's classes, and the fact that there would be dozens of people just like her. In other words, by presenting a rational argument, I stand a good chance of boosting Sue's I-CAN belief.

A talk with Sue might go something like this:

SUE: "I've never been skiing before, I couldn't do it. Surelyyou have to be really fit?"

ME: "Nonsense! Most of the people going won't have been before. There are beginner's classes and excellent training."

SUE: "I'm too old though. They're all youngsters aren't they?"

ME: "Are you joking? Last time I went there were three people over sixty who were there for the first time!"

SUE: "I'd be scared of hurtling down those long slopes like you see on the television."

ME: (Laughing), "You only get to go on those slopes when you're good and ready. You'll be starting out on the flat!"

SUE: "Really? Perhaps it would be fun after all."

A little more rational argument and Sue might be willing to go.

Notice the difference between Mary's message and Sue's message:

MARY IS SAYING "I'm not worth it."

SUE IS SAYING "I can't do that."

These are very different statements.

Notice also, how I was able to persuade Sue by rational argument? A lot of the actual text of this book is designed to do just that; increase your belief in your abilities (I- CAN) by presenting you with a reasoned argument.

Increasing your belief in your own worth (PSI), is a far more difficult proposition, because, as I have said, it is not amenable to rational argument. No amount of reasonable, logical argument on my part will increase your feeling of self-worth by one jot.

But because it is VITAL that you have a Positive Self Image, a large part of the method is devoted to increasing your belief in your self-worth.

Do you remember at the start of this chapter I asked you to take a little time over asking yourself the question, "Do I deserve a larger house?" This is because I knew that PSI-belief was not easily approached by such intellectual questions. PSI-belief is lodged so firmly in the subconscious mind, that I asked you to IMAGINE being in your new home.

The coins of the subconscious mind are IMAGES, just as the coins of the conscious or rational mind are THOUGHTS.

How to Tell if You Have a Negative Self Image

If, like my friend, you have a Negative Self Image which is impeding your progress, then it MUST be corrected before you have any chance at all of succeeding.

Correcting this NSI represents the fundamental foundation of my method. Without it you are wasting your time trying to achieve any of your life-goals. With a nasty NSI lurking in your subconscious, your very best efforts are doomed to failure.

I will show you how to eradicate this NSI later in the book, after you have completed an interesting quiz which determines the level of your NSI; but it is important that you realise the difference between PSI-belief and I-CAN belief at this stage.

The actual level of your PSI-belief will determine the amount of time you have to spend improving it. All readers will have to spend SOME time on this vital area.

Because all this talk about conscious and subconscious minds can be confusing, let me summarise this chapter briefly:

YOU WILL NOT ACHIEVE YOUR GOALS WITHOUT BELIEF

THERE ARE TWO TYPES OF BELIEF - PSI BELIEF AND I-CAN BELIEF

PSI-Belief reflects how you FEEL about yourself deep down inside.

It is about your level of self-worth. PSI-belief CANNOT be improved by rational argument, reading books, or discussion. It CAN be improved by the type of exercise given later in this book. You MUST have a Positive Self Image if you are to succeed - you must believe that YOU ARE WORTH all the good things in life, you must believe that YOU DESERVE IT. Without this belief you will fail.

I-CAN belief reflects how capable you think you are on a 'nuts and bolts' level. It concerns how you THINK about your abilities and what you BELIEVE is possible or not possible for you. It is largely a learned response and is heavily determined by your upbringing and schooling.

An example of this is the message: "Women don't become engineers," which effectively prevents all but the most determined women from becoming engineers.

When you have PSI-belief and I-CAN belief then you are HALF WAY to success. YES; HALF WAY!

This is the most difficult and challenging part of the method which I am sharing with you.

Formula For Success

We are now in a position to re-write our simple formula for success given at the start of the book:

SUCCESS IS:

25% PSI-BELIEF 25% I-CAN BELIEF 25% KNOWING WHAT YOU WANT 25% GETTING THERE

Well, PSI and I-CAN added together make a giant 50% of the formula!

You are now well on your way to understanding why belief is so important to your success. Let us now examine PSI- belief in detail, and see how we can improve it.

Extracted from the book 'The Midas Method' by Stuart Goldsmith

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astralaffairs · 7 years

Text

When Stars Align || Lafayette x Reader - Chapter 3

Pairing: Lafayette x fem!Reader

Word Count: 3100 (again)

Warnings: graphic war scene (mentions of blood, death, guns), drinking, french words, cheesy shit bc i wrote this like 5 months ago and don’t wanna rewrite, shitty writing for the same reason, cheesy shit

Taglist: @lttlethings @followingnaturespath @secretfanficreader@superwholockbooknerd526 @apandawithcookies

He was my half brother. And he had no idea.

I let out an exasperated breath and leaned up against the wall. I snapped the journal shut and looked out the window at Hamilton's retreating figure. What would come next? Would I have to tell him? I hadn't a clue how I could.

Hey Hamilton, we just met and all, but your mom cheated on your dad and I was the result.

That would end well.

But if he was here, was my mother as well? My heart leapt slightly at the thought, but I instantly shot it down. There was no way I could tell him. At least not yet.

I pulled my trunk from its place under my bed and flicked open the buckles. I leafed through much of what was in it, but fell back onto the hard mattress of my cot in frustration when I found what I was looking for. Ink stained half of my trunk and belongings, including a majority of the parchment I had brought to write home. I supposed bitterly that I would have to figure this out without the help of my family.

I delicately shut my trunk with a sigh and tucked it back under my bed. So I would be cut off from all communication with my family until I could find a shop that sold parchment and ink as well as scrounge up enough money to pay for it. The day just kept getting better and better.

Overcome with fatigue and irritation, I crawled back onto my bed. I was long asleep by the time the men from my barracks finally pulled themselves away from the pub and walked back, undoubtedly drunk as sailors.

An earsplitting sound pierced the brisk night air, jolting me from my deep sleep. As I sat bolt upright in my bed, I wasn't sure what time it was or whether Hamilton and his friends were back; I wasn't even sure what the sound I heard was. The only thing I was sure of was the genuine panic that filled every part of me. I could nearly hear my heart thumping in my chest as I tried to regain my bearings.

After a few moments of panting, the clouds muddling my mind parted and I could think straight. My breathing slowed as I realized that the men were back, so at the very least I wasn't alone, but they were all still fast asleep. It must have been the middle of the night.

Hard as I tried, I still couldn't quite figure out what the sound was that had awoken me. Until it rang out again. A gunshot. We were under attack.

I hurried to my feet as another shot was fired, and then another. The men were finally beginning to wake up as I ran to grab my rifle from its place on the wall.

"What's going on?" Laurens asked sleepily, slurring his words.

"Five more minutes," Mulligan whined, trying to cover his head with his pillow. I ignored them; I was in too much of a hurry to do anything more than roll my eyes. They realized at last what was happening when the gunshots came in more of a quick succession.

The ambush on our camp was quickly becoming more of a battle as I ran out the door onto the dirt road. I saw people out of the corner of my eye coming from all directions to join the fight.

Leaves crunched underfoot as I began to near the battleground. I raced into the woods, branches scraping my arms, and finally reached the battle almost a mile from camp. I stationed myself somewhere within a line of men that stretched far to my left and right.

I began to load my gun as I heard four more pairs of feet trampling the underbrush behind me. The men stationed themselves on both sides of me, and it was oddly comforting to not be alone.

I fired across the field into the cloud of ash and gunsmoke, adding another shot the the already deafening clamor of the battle.

I reloaded my gun, cursing the slow process, and fired it across the field. I could never have known if it hit anyone; the air was full of ash and smoke from battle. A scream rang out not far from me, and in the corner of my eye I saw a man fall to the ground in pain. I wanted to drop my gun and help him, but I knew I couldn't.

I gritted my teeth and reloaded again.

The sun was beginning to rise and the sky was taking on a dull yellow color where the smoke above was catching the light. Faint yells, muffled through gunshots, came from all around as I continued firing on the British. Blood splattered the ground, digging into the mud as soldiers' heels pressed it down.

Bullets whizzed past my ears, and my knees shook in fear with the knowledge that any of those bullets could have easily taken my life. The smoke that filled the air all across the field was growing more dense by the second; I could hardly see a meter in front of myself. The unwelcome smoke filled my lungs and I burst into a coughing fit just as I fired my gun.

I gasped for clean air in such distress that I didn't realize when a man emerged from the cloud of smoke and charged at me with a bayonet. I rose my head to get back to the fight and my eyes widened in horror at the sight of the man who had nearly reached me.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion as I tried to fire my gun but realized I hadn't reloaded. A figure jumped out in front of me to stop him from reaching me.

Stay alive, I pleaded whoever it was who had come to my rescue. In a swift movement, he dodged the bayonet of the other man and stabbed another through his shoulder. The Redcoat fell to the ground as the bayonet was pulled from his shoulder, shining with newly spilled blood.

He turned around with a look of concern when I finally realized who it was. John Laurens had saved my life.

I gave him a nod signifying that I was fine and he gave me a small smile before returning to his station.

After that, I was completely shaken. The battle lasted well into the afternoon, but to me it passed quickly in a blur of reds and yellows. Neither side advanced in the war; we ended in a stalemate after hours of trading gunshots. But I was hardly paying attention to that.

Of course I had known that in a war my life would be at risk every day. I had known that freeing our nation meant having blood on my hands. But when the reality of it finally hit me, it just felt so... real. I could have easily lost my life that morning. That simple thought stayed with me all day.

When the battle ended, I didn't go back to my barracks at first. I started to, but somewhere along the path I discouraged myself from going back. I instead just kept walking around the camp, trying to clear my head.

I wandered aimlessly down the path for hours. I turned right then left then left again and lost track quickly, often ending up where I had already been. Finally, the sun began to set. I knew I couldn't just keep walking.

So I found myself going to the last place I thought I'd end up. I walked up the creaky wooden stairs, my shoes adding to the dirt that already covered them. I pushed open the door and almost smiled as I was once again hit with the noise of drunk yelling men. This time it didn't feel quite as unwelcome.

I sat onto one of the stools in front of the bar.

"Strongest thing you've got," I told the bartender and he nodded and went to get me a drink. While he was looking through the shelves, I glanced around. A small smile settled onto my lips as I noticed the four men from my barracks sitting around a table, laughing merrily.

"Here you are," the bartender said, regaining my attention. I thanked him and almost started to drink what was in the cup he gave me before I caught a whiff of it. I crinkled my nose and put the cup back down.

I drank my first glass of the liquid little by little, when I heard someone behind me slam their glass down and start to talk; it almost sounded like a speech.

"I may not live to see our glory." I recognized the voice as Hamilton.

"I may not live to see our glory," the others repeated somberly.

"But I will gladly join the fight," Hamilton continued.

"But I will gladly join the fight," they chorused.

"And when our children tell our story," Hamilton went on. I furrowed my brow. It almost sounded like... Singing?

"And when our children tell our story," the repeated.

"They'll tell the story of tonight," Hamilton finished. A smile began to form on my face.

"Let's have another round tonight," Mulligan decided.

"Let's have another round tonight," Lafayette agreed in his silky accent that reminded me so much of home.

"Let's have another round tonight," Hamilton sang happily.

"Raise a glass to freedom," Laurens joined in softly, "something they can never take away. No matter what they tell you." I smiled at his words, finally deciding to join them.

"Raise a glass to the four of us," Laurens continued.

"To the newly one more of us?" I gave them an unsure smile as I reached where they were sitting. They met me with whoops and wide grins, so I took a seat with them on the couch where Mulligan and Lafayette sat, dropping myself onto the open spot between the pair.

"Telling the story of tonight," we all sang together. Lafayette stretched his arm onto the back of the couch behind me and I rested my head onto his shoulder. We all sang on for a minute more and I smiled, finding unlikely comfort in the presence of these men.

We finished the song and they all cheered and began to drink, so I shrugged and went along with it. I raised my glass to my lips and began to down the dark amber colored liquid.

I nearly spit it out as it burned my throat and I doubled over coughing. I hadn't realized quite how strong it would be all at once.

"Are you alright, mon amour (my love)?" Lafayette's arm wrapped around my shoulder as he looked at me with slight worry.

"Je vais bien (I’m fine)," I assured him as I sat back up. I was thankful that his arm didn't leave my shoulder, though.

We all sat there for a while longer, joking and laughing as the sun dipped below the horizon. I didn't say much; I could feel the effects of the alcohol hitting me little by little for almost an hour. Then it hit me all at once.

Instantly, I felt completely fatigued but simultaneously full of energy. I dropped my face into crook of Lafayette's neck with a groan.

"Je suis fatigué (I’m tired)," I whined and Hamilton and Lafayette chuckled at me.

My eyes drifted to Lafayette's ponytail as my chin rested on his neck. He had such cute hair. I started bouncing one of his tiny curls with my finger. I turned back to the conversation, now with a slightly larger smile as I twirled Lafayette's hair between my fingers.

"It's getting late, we should probably start getting back," Hamilton pointed out and everyone muttered agreements.

"Je ne veux pad bouger (I don’t wanna move)," I slurred.

"Anyone care to translate?" Mulligan requested confusedly.

"Not now," Lafayette replied with a slight laugh at my words.

"Vous levez (get up)," he turned to me and offered his hand to help me up. I looked up at him with a frown. The slight frown faded as I looked at him in the light. The light behind him cast a thread of gold in an outline of his body and highlighted his perfect jawline. Had he always been so perfect? Was that level of perfection even possible? I sighed.

"Je ne peux pas bourger (I can’t move)," I complained again, but then I smiled with the idea that had come to me, "allez-vous me porter (Will you carry me)?"

"Y/N," he sighed.

"S'il vous plaît (please)," I begged.

"Fine," he gave in and I grinned. He picked me up from the couch bridal style and began to carry me out of the bar.

"You're so drunk," he muttered quietly.

"I'm sober!" I protested and giggled in spite of myself. I went back to lazily playing with his hair as we left the bar, but shivered when we got outside.

"Are you cold, mon amour (my love)?" he asked, always concerned. I nodded and he pulled me closer to his chest. I nuzzled my face into his warm chest as he carried me the rest of the way to our barracks.

Hamilton got the door for us and I breathed in deeply once we entered the tiny cabin again, though I didn't really breathe in anything but the smell of Lafayette's shirt. He even smelled perfect.

He walked over to the middle of the room and laid me delicately onto my bed before pulling the covers onto me.

"Thank you Lafayette," I murmured as I began to fall asleep.

"Toujours, mon amour (always, my love)."

Lafayette's POV

I woke up early the next morning, despite the late night I had before. I quickly dressed and tied my hair back before sitting back down on the side of my bed to put on my shoes. I tied both and was about to stand up when I saw Y/N still asleep in front of me.

She was beautiful; there was no other way to put it. The sunlight now came streaming through the window, illuminating her hair. Her plump lips fell slightly apart as she breathed, her chest rising and falling peacefully.

I could have sat there and watched her for hours, but her eyelids fluttered open to see me watching her. I quickly busied myself with re-tying my shoe, trying to hide my face so as not to let her see the color filling my cheeks.

I finished tying my shoe before standing up and went outside for a little while. I enjoyed the warm weather and went to fill my canteen with water only to find Hamilton, Laurens, and Mulligan all standing around the well. They weren't actually using it, but stood congregated around it.

"What are you three doing?" I asked, raising as questioning eyebrow. Hamilton shrugged.

"Y/N needs to change at some point," he pointed out. I hadn't thought of that.

I filled my canteen and we all walked back together. Sure enough, Y/N sat on her bed in a different outfit reading a book.

"Laf, push your bed over here," Laurens called from the other side of the room, making me realize I was staring. I nodded and walked over to push my bed up next to Hamilton's.

We all sat down in a circle on the beds and Laurens began to shuffle a deck cards. We played a hand and I lost horribly. I kept glancing back at Y/N; I was hardly paying attention to the game.

"Laf, it's your turn," Hamilton said beside me. I hadn't realized that Laurens had dealt again.

"Right. Sorry," I picked up my hand and played my Jack of spades. The round ended and I took almost half of the points.

"Laf," Laurens said, trying to get my attention. I could hear him speaking, but I was too interested in watching Y/N to quite realize that he was addressing me.

"Ah, screw it. Y/N," he called over to her. She didn't look up. He sighed dramatically and picked up what was nearest to throw at her.

"Merde (shit)," she swore loudly when the shoe hit the book out of her hands.

"Ce quis le baisage (What the fuck)?" she said angrily to Laurens as she picked up the book.

"Come play cards," he called over.

"What game?" she rose an eyebrow.

"Hearts. I'll deal you in," he said. She smirked and walked over. I had the feeling she was about the destroy us all.

She took a seat between me and Hamilton as Laurens dealt another hand. Mulligan kept track of points as we played, and she was way ahead of the rest of us when we neared the last hand.

It was the second round of that hand, and Laurens lead with clubs. We went around the circle and I waited in anticipation to see who would take the cards. We finally got to Y/N last, and she laid the queen of spades on top of my ace of clubs.

"You little enfoiré (fucker)!" I swore, shoving her playfully.

"This enfoiré (fucker) just won the game," she replied and shoved me back. I must have been too close to the edge of the bed, because I fell backwards onto the floor. They all laughed as I stood back up, playfully glaring at Y/N.

"It was an accident," she laughed, her hands raised in mock surrender. I rolled my eyes and sat back down next to her.

"You're so cute when you're angry." She ruffled my hair teasingly. Had she just called me cute?

"Shall we go to the pub?" Mulligan asked and we all murmured in agreement. Laurens packed up his cards up and we all walked down the road to the bright little building up ahead.

We sat down at the couch and chairs around our usual table as Mulligan ordered us a round of drinks. Y/N sat next to me after I rested my arm on the back of the couch.

Warmth filled me as she laid her head back onto my arm. I watched, my smile growing, as she laughed at something Laurens said. I was glad that my friends were getting along, but it's hard to hate someone after you survive a battle with them.

I absentmindedly fiddled with a lock of her hair as the night went on, noticing that whenever my hand brushed her neck a pink tint filled her cheeks. And so we sat there for the rest of the night, talking and laughing. All was well.

#hamilton #marquis de lafayette x reader #lafayette fanfic #lafayette fanfiction #lafayette fic #hamilton fic #hamilton fanfic #hamilton fanfiction #lafayette x reader #hamilton x reader #lafayette

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thekuroiookami · 7 years

Note

I don't think it is weird at all! I enjoyed every chapter of it! Did I mention how I like your writing style? Because I do very much! Btw I have been wondering lately................... what's Midorima's laugh like? So I would like to request a scenario of Midorima's s/o trying all sorts of stuff to make him laugh!! Probably with the help of Takao (*≧艸≦)

Ah, thank you! So this ask ended with me writing the following weird story and doing a ton of research on what Midorima’s VA’s laugh is like…As a side note you can try watching this video to hear the laugh I’m referencing, it’s at around 7:25 :

youtube

And now, onto the scenario.

It all started with a bet. Miyaji threatened to assaultMidorima with a pineapple from halfway across court. Someone then said that theshooting guard in question would find the idea of anyone other than himshooting anything laughable. Naturally, someone else then said theaforementioned stoic had never laughed once in his life. Otsubo then sensiblyshut down the discussion before it got out of hand, but Takao had alreadylatched onto the idea like a drowning man to a buoy. And of course, anythingTakao knew eventually got back to you.

“500 yen says he caves in after the first feather duster.”Takao folded his arms and arched an eyebrow smugly.

“I couldn’t. It’s like taking candy from a baby.” Youtwirled a lock of hair around your finger in thought. “Shintarou has neverlaughed once in the time we’ve been together, and I’ve been with him for awhile.”

“And I’ve been with him even longer,” he shot back.“Shin-chan never-“ Takao stopped as he realized he was going confirm what youjust said. “No matter how grim he is, even Shin-chan must have a limit.”

“I’m just trying to point out that limit is somewhere reallyfar away. Like Tibet. Or Europe. I don’t think he’ll cave by Phase Three of theplan.”

“We’ll just have to see, won’t we?” After a few minutes ofintense negotiation, you shook hands with Takao, sealing a deal that bestowedthe winner with a month’s supply of strawberry milk. “Let’s go nab our targetthen.”

Lunchtime found Midorima sitting in his usual corner of theclassroom, lunchbox and chopsticks neatly lined up in preparation for his meal.You slid a quick glance at the tiny portable radio on the desk before taking aseat next to him. “Hello, Shintarou.”

Midorima’s features softened from their severe concentrationon his cellphone. “Good afternoon-“

“Shin-chan! Wait for me!” Takao straddled a chair and lookedat Midorima’s bento with wide eyes. “Whoa, that’s a really nice lunch.”

Your boyfriend sighed and gave you something close to anapologetic look. “You’re not going to get any, nanodayo.”

Takao waved the dismissal away and tore open a packet ofmelon bread. “So I was saying to ___-chan here earlier, that I certifiably makegood jokes. I make people laugh. Ask anyone. Right, Shin-chan?”

“I wouldn’t know,” said Midorima primly. “That implies you havemoments of seriousness, nanodayo.”

You smirked. “See, I told you so. If anyone has ever laughedat your jokes, it’s probably out of pity.”

Takao narrowed his eyes dangerously. “Fine. Tell you what.If I make Shin-chan here laugh by the end of the day, you have to take thatback.”

You tutted pityingly. “Fine, if you want to commit socialsuicide, I won’t stop you.”

Midorima sighed and tucked into his lunch. “Leave me out ofit, please.”

You both ignored him and shook on it. Takao rolled up hissleeves and cleared his throat. “Okay, let’s see. Shin-chan. What do you call…analligator in a vest?”

Midorima gave Takao a look that said he couldn’t care lessand went back to chewing on a carrot stick. The point guard ploughed on withhis usual enthusiasm. “An investigator!”

You scrunched your nose. “That was terrible, Takao.”

“Then I’ll try another one. Why are pirates called pirates?”

You tilted your head in thought. Midorima exhaled slowly andcontinued ignoring Takao. “I don’t know,” you said.

Takao grinned cheerfully. “Because they arrrrr.”

You had to purse your lips to keep from laughing because itwas utterly ridiculous, but your boyfriend merely frowned and carried on asusual. You decided to chip in. “Wait, I have one. This one is good. Did youhear about the hairdresser?”

They both blinked at you, confused. “She dyed,” you saidsolemnly. Takao dissolved into helpless laughter, while Midorima rolled hiseyes.

“Okay, if you’re going to play it that way, then I’m uppingthe ante.” Takao leaned forward with anticipation. “Don’t blame me when thequips get a little…risqué. So. Why did the traffic light turn red?”

You saw Midorima look at Takao curiously from the corner ofyour eye. Maybe this was actually going somewhere. You shrugged in question tomake the other boy reply.

“Because it’s embarrassing to change in public!” You andMidorima both grimaced in tandem.

Takao was prevented from saying anything when the bell rangshrilly. “Whoops, out of time. We’ll do this after school, Shin-chan.” Youcould swear you heard Midorima mutter a brief prayer as you left. He didn’tlook any happier after practice, head bowed with weight of bearing Takao as heapproached the gates. You took his hand and waited for Takao to launch thesecond phase of the scheme.

He didn’t disappoint. “So Shin-chan, are you immune toknock-knock jokes? Or should I try terrible pick-up lines instead?”

Midorima barely restrained himself, gripping the radio sohard you thought it would crack. “Silence, Takao. I would like you to try thatinstead.”

You leaned back to look at your cousin. “Takao, you knowpick-up lines? Tell me some.”

Shutoku’s ace gave you a look of horrified betrayal, but itwas too late. “Hmm. Okay. There’s a major sale in my bedroom right now. Clothesare 100% off!”

You thumped his back sympathetically as Midorima choked andspluttered. “Takao! What- How-“

“I have more! This one’s a classic. Kiss me if I’m wrong,but aren’t dinosaurs not extinct?” Takao looked very proud of himself. Midorimalooked positively green, which made for an interesting effect with his hair.

You nodded in approval. “Not bad. I heard one the other day,what was it? Ah! What’s in a guy’s pants that a girl doesn’t have?”

They both froze outside Midorima’s palatial house and staredat you. Takao’s eyes were wide and seemed like they were asking you whether youreally wanted to go there. Midorima looked like you had just announced youliked kicking small children for fun.

You decided to put them out of their misery. “It’s pockets.Calm down. What were you two thinking of?”

Takao hacked out an ugly cough. Midorima thawed enough fromhis chilled state to unlock the door. “Well,” snickered the point guard, “thatwas unexpected. Shall we decamp at Shin-chan’s house and get some homeworkdone?”

“You cannot invite yourself over, nanodayo,” Midorimasnapped. “You are capable of doing your work without my help.”

You hid a smile and slowly inched closer. “Shintarou,” yousaid quietly, “just this once, give in to Takao? I could use some help too.”You tilted your head and looked at him with limpid eyes.

He didn’t last long. “Very well,” he grumbled. “You can stayfor a short while. But no more of those inappropriate statements, nanodayo.”

You silently fist-bumped Takao and followed Midorima to hisroom, waving at his sister on the way. This part of the plan was going to takesome more subtlety than before, so you had to wait a while before making anymoves. You sidled closer when Midorima was occupied with a question,positioning yourself just right. Takao was nodding intently, also slowlyinching nearer.

“…and then you substitute the value of x here to get thesolution,” Midorima finished, pushing up his glasses.

“Mhmm. So, Shin-chan, I have one more question.” You tensed,sensing an opening.

Midorima glanced at him with an expression of forbearance. “Whatis it?”

“How ticklish are you?”

“What does that have to do with-“ Midorima huffed as you andTakao tackled him to the bed. Before he could protest, the two of you put in aconsiderable amount of energy finding sensitive spots. He flinched when yourfingers brushed over his stomach.

“Aha, Shintarou, are you ticklish here?” You wiggled yourfingers over his abs, delighted when his face turned pink. “That’s kind ofcute.”

“Stop- this is not acceptable, I- WHERE ARE YOU TOUCHING,TAKAO?”

Takao raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Whoops,my bad. But sheesh, anyone else would have caved by now. Is it not in your DNAto laugh, Shin-chan?”

Midorima sat up, hair in disarray and glasses askew. “Thatwould imply there was something humorous about the situation,” he gritted out, “whichis not the case.” He shot you a look of pure murder. “Why are you encouraging him,nanodayo?”

You petted his hair back into place. “Sorry, I couldn’tresist the idea of tickling you. I’d never done it before.” You kissed hischeek in apology, and he turned red again.

Takao looked up as the door opened and Midorima’s little sisterwalked in. She marched forward with a determined expression and a textbook infront of her face. “Nii-san, I don’t get this. Help me.” She scowled when Takaoruffled her hair affectionately.

Midorima adjusted his glasses and peered at the book. “Ah,this is…” You exchanged a glance with Takao while he was occupied. Your cousinshrugged in defeat and sighed. You pursed your lips and gave him an “I told youso” look.

Takao went back to looking the younger girl’s textbook. “Ah,have you heard what the one about the neutron in the bar?”

She gave him a puzzled look. He grinned unrepentantly. “A neutronwalks into a bar and asks how much it is for a drink. The bartender says, “Foryou, no charge.””

The little girl stared at him until realization dawned. “Ohhh,I get it now.”

Your head whipped around at a choked sound. Midorima’s facewas half-hidden by his hand, and he seemed to be hunched over. Your eyesnarrowed with suspicion. “Hey Takao, you know why I don’t trust atoms?”

Takao was watching Midorima with hawk-like concentration. Hesmirked. “No idea, ___-chan.”

“Because they make up everything.” You almost pumped a fistin victory as Midorima bent over even further, shoulders shaking.

Takao looked like a predator about to corner its prey. “I’dhave told you more chemistry puns, but I didn’t think they’d get a reaction.”

The both of you sat back in amazement at the sound ofMidorima’s helpless laugh. It was restrained, like everything else about him,but so out of character that it was equivalent of someone else dancing barefootin the streets. His laugh was warm and rich, dappled with melodic timbre like hueson polished wood. He tried to muffle a surprisingly boyish chuckle, amusementquirking up the corner of his mouth. You wanted to trap the sound in a musicbox and play it over and over to keep the feeling of shimmering joy.

“Shin-chan,” Takao breathed in wonder, “you’re such a nerd.I should have known.”

You sort of agreed, but at the same time you wanted to flingTakao out of a window when Midorima stopped laughing and straightened with ablush. “Nonsense, Takao. Go back to your work or go home, nanodayo.”

You nodded in agreement. “Let’s stop, Takao. It’s like thetime two blood cells fell in love. It’s all in vein.”

Midorima’s eyes widened a split second before he made astrangled noise and started laughing again, gasping for air. You shot an archlook at Takao. “I win.”

Which is how you ended up with free drinks for a month.

#ask #scenario #kuroko no basket #midorima shintarou #takao kazunari #fluff #humor #characloud #i own none of these jokes #i looked them up on the internet #im funny but not that funny #sorry not sorry

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sometimesverysad · 5 years

Text

I’ve finally cut them out of my life so I suppose it’s a good enough time as any to share my story

So for me I think I was a really lonely child. I didn't have a lot of friends and was really shy. The friends that I did make I quickly lost because I was temperamental and bossed other kids around. We lived in the middle of nowhere anyway and my mom wanted to homeschool me so I didn't have a lot of chances to make friends either way. My dad and mom got divorced when I was 5. My dad says it's because she cheated on him and because he couldn't handle her outbursts anymore, my mom says because he had major anger issues and hoarded all their money in a safe she didn't know the passcode to and would always buy himself things, a brand new truck, guns, and the like with it but never anything for her or for me. I think it was a mix of all their problems that made the relationship unhealthy for everyone. After the divorce we moved in with my grandma for a time and my mom had to enroll me in public school against her wishes.

Elementary school for me was interesting for sure. My teachers thought I had a learning disability until about 2nd grade and put me in classes that retaught me the basics. Third grade was a weird in-between year. Fourth grade they put me into one of those gifted students classes where they split you off from the rest of the class for most of the day and teach you "advanced topics" and expect you to juggle both the work from the advanced classes and the classes you didn't actually take but that you're supposed to already know the information from anyhow. I don't remember it being too hard? I still didn't really have friends, I was bullied a lot, but didn't care much. I was one of those kids that was bullied but stood up to their bullies and other people's bullies for them so they learned not to mess with me XD I just knew it was better than home. I never wanted to go home.

So my mom remarried right away. I'm not sure if she was already seeing him before my dad and her spilt or she just felt the need to immediately jump into another relationship because she couldn't handle living under her mother's roof with her sister again. They didn't get along well, any of them together. That toxic matriarchy they had going carried on to the next generation as well. Grandma is eccentric, to say the least. She was abused by her own mother so much so that she has completely blocked her childhood out. She simply doesn't remember it. Then my grandpa made it big with his company and left her for his secretary whom he started another family with. My aunt had a lot of trouble coping with her dad doing that to them, and became pregnant with my cousin when she was 15. My cousin has a mental and physical disorder that makes her unable to walk or talk because she had whooping cough when she was born but she wasn't tested for it. My mother had her own issues. They didn't make for a healthy family back then, as they were all still figuring things out.

My step dad, Carl, came into the picture and he was... not the kindest person. He and my mom worked at a nursing home together. I later worked there myself (although I'll get to that later) and I figured out that he puts on the facade that he is the kindest most caring person you'd ever meet beyond closed doors. Everyone loved him. It was sickening. At home he was a raging alcoholic. I remember being 5, 6, through about 11, or 12, and having to take my little brother and hide in my room when he'd throw his fits. He was only scary as far as yelling and occasionally throwing things though. Things could've been worse. Maybe if we wouldn't have hidden as often, or my aunt and grandma wouldn't have picked us up to take us for weekends as often as they did... idk he sobered up after elementary school. Don't really remember what was the changing point.

My dad tried I think. To be there throughout my life. At least he told me he did. He was a compulsive liar even before he went down the path he did. In elementary school it wasn't that bad tho. Just a lot of broken promises and a hopeful little me that thought her dad was going to someday make good on the promise to take her away from her mom and stepdad. He didn't hurt me so much until later years.

My mom was another story tho. She's always been what's held me back in life. I could get over my dad and my stepdad. I figured I didn't need either of them so it didn't matter. Idk

Basically she has been diagnosed with a lot of different things throughout her life. Manic Bipolar schizo Effective Disorder is the one i usually stick with when telling people about her. She was... a hard person to live with. She enrolled me in gymnastics and cheer-leading for kids my age because she was trying to live her old dream through me. I didn't like it, I was never a sociable kid. I could do nothing right in her eyes. I always had to be better than everyone else. In sports and in school. It didn't help that she favored my brother as soon as he was born. I still had to be perfect tho. she wasn't forgiving when I wasn't. And when I was she never praised me, only told me my attitude should be better. That I should be grateful she even fed me or clothed me. compared me to the devil and my brother to an angel. When I was in first grade that was the first time she went to the mental hospital while I was alive. I felt relief. My brother was only a baby then. I think he went to live with my grandpa and his family who were very well off and I went to live with my grandma and aunt and cousin. It only lasted 6 months. I wished I would never have gotten to see her again. I would have panic attacks at school when I wasn't good at something. The other kids probably thought I thought I was too good to be partnered up with them because I would complain about being worried i wouldn't receive a high enough grade when paired with kids who were known to have lower grades, when I just didn't want to deal with my mother's wrath. There were several times I came to school with a fever of 104 or more, both because my mother told me I would go to jail for skipping school, and because she told me she would take my bed away if i didn't anyway so what was the point in staying home to rest and recover? Her lies and bluffs(?) definitely didn’t help with my growing anxiety disorder. I tell myself now that I couldn’t have known whether she was lying to me or not but it doesn’t change much.

In 6th grade there was a new program called Phoenix that sported the idea of 40 students being chosen through a lottery throughout several school districts in the Columbus Area to go to a middle school where "mastery” and perfection were expected across the board of all it's students in all their classes. I got in. I had never made my mother so proud. She cried. I thought maybe it meant new beginnings for me.

So middle school was a big changing point in my life, but sadly not for good reasons. The first year, I made friends. That was good. Cat and I went to the same school, whereas we could only ever hangout outside of school before. I suppose I didn't mention her or Emma yet. My two best friends for years. Sometimes, when my mom allowed me out of her sight I could make up excuses about having homework we needed to work on together to go and take refuge at their houses. They had warm, loving parents. The first few I had ever had the pleasure of meeting.

Anyway, Cat specifically, was my neighbor a couple houses down from my mom's home now, my grandma's old home which she continues to rent out to my mom and Carl indefinitely. My mom was used to the lavish life, since my grandfather had given it to them before his remarriage. She wanted to live in a house in a rich neighborhood instead of the apartments we had lived in before on a worse-off side of town during most of my elementary years. So when my aunt got married and she and my cousin, grandma, and new uncle moved to Hilliard, mom made a deal with grandma to pay her a hefty rent monthly to live there instead. The house came with its problems, it was basically falling apart and was and still is to this day a fixer upper years after. But it was a roof over our heads. It didn't matter to my mother that we couldn't afford things like books for school or new clothes and later food at home, she had what she wanted. Appearances, she was always concerned about appearances. Probably why she never hurt me enough to leave bruises or marks. She loved to pull my hair. Loved to make me doubt my own sanity and self worth. It was fine though because I was happy at school. Phoenix had longer hours than the other local middle school options too. We were usually there ‪from 6:45 to 4:50‬ every day. Getting too comfortable was probably my downfall tho.

Because there were only 40 kids to the whole grade I was in, and 80 in the school total it was a pretty tight-knit community. Not really any bullying. Even someone like me had ‪around 15-20‬ friends among everyone there. I was happy. I was loved. It was Cat, Gabe, Harald, and I. We had a lot of other friends that we weren't as close with, they made up the "nerd herd", that we were in and liked to call ourselves, but they were all kind. And then there was all the friends I had made from my extracurricular too, which was only Choir at the time, so that I could keep my grades up.

I don't remember what had started it all, but basically some stupid drama had happened with a friend of mine, then another, then another. Basically things that I counted on being good got shitty too, and so my home and school life being bad together got to me a little too much. My grades were slipping and my mom and real dad both had to come into a school meeting for that, hell they scared the crap out of all my teachers. That's a laugh thinking back on it now. The controlling matriarch and the dad that's so chill he should never have had kids in the first place. Not to say my mother ever should have had them. My parents were both unfit to be parents. I was pretty depressed about it back then tho, enough so that I wrote a letter on the bus home about how nobody would miss me if I disappeared. Honestly I can't even remember if it was a for real suicide note or if it was just me acting out to get attention. That was the first time my depression had reared it's ugly head outright like that tho. Before it was just all the symptoms. I had never had a name for it. No big deal tho. A lot of people have depression. For a lot of people it starts young. And besides, where families commonly had diabetes, or cancer, physical illnesses you could formally diagnose, mental health problems were my families' specialty. My mom with hers, my dad with his undiagnosed paranoia and excessive anger and depression, his father's own suicide, my mother's grandmother receiving shock treatments for her own demons, etc etc, it went pretty far back. My mom expected this of me. Except that she was never prepared to actually deal with the situation when it was presented to her.

One of my choir friends had seen me writing that note on the bus, and sadly, she decided to be good friend and report me to the school counselor. My mother was furious when she found out. I was in the garage working on some cruddy science project when she came home from work that night and slammed every door in her path. It was one of the only times she ever hit me hard enough to leave a mark. basically it ended in "I had wasted her time and how dare she get a call at work for nonsense like that." She scoffed at the idea. She dared me to do it. I don't remember much of the rest of that year. I'm sure I carried on by somehow pretending things were going to be alright.

The second year of middle school was even worse tho haha. My mom had to go to the mental hospital again. You would think that'd be great with how it had gone the first time. Just a vacation from her. But I think maybe it was because she was more removed from her family that it took so long to get her into the hospital that time. Carl, my stepfather, didn't know what to do, and didn't see the signs like Grandma and my aunt could. He and mom had practically been newly weds the time before. So my brother and I got to witness her downward spiral. The worst part was that it was like we had a whole new mom. At least for me. I wasn't used to being shown love. She called me pet names, and played with my hair. One time I wasn't wearing a seat-belt and she shot her arm out to protect me from going flying through the front window of her car when she had to slam on the brakes. We didn't have a lot of money but she took us to parks and we rolled down hills and did stupid whimsical things happy families do with their toddlers and preschoolers. The entire summer I grew attached to a woman who wasn't my mother, but I didn't know any better myself. She quit her job at the nursing home. She got a job at a pizza place and had me come in with her to make pizzas all the time when school started up. Told her boss I was shadowing her for a school project. She started talking to kitchen appliances at home. She became devoutly religious out of nowhere, even though we hadn't been to church since I was in 3rd or fourth grade when it had started to conflict scheduling wise with all of the sports I was in. In the mornings before she'd leave for work she would tell us how much she loved us then scream at us for ever being born then put her head in her hands and look up and tell us how much she loved us again.

Then they took her away. It took four police officers, four grown men, to drag her out of the house kicking and screaming. She had had a fit in the middle of the night and had smashed a lot of the furniture and appliances in the house. They took her away in a paddy wagon. The school heard from my grandmother and aunt what had happened. The poor counselor had just wanted to console a child in the time of an absent mother, she wasn't expecting an abuse case that went generations so far back she wouldn't be able to recount them to the police when they took me into their custody. Even before that tho the hospital my mom had been placed in made a mistake and let her out early, on "good behavior" they noticed too late that she had very obviously faked. We got calls to my house for days with her making threats on everyone involved's lives. She told us in the messages that she would come to take my brother and I away and kill anyone who tried to stop her. I was scared for our lives, but at the same time, found I didn't want mine anymore. I told the counselor at school I planned to kill myself. That's when the state took me into their custody. It only proved to piss my unhinged mother off even more, but luckily they finally found her, lurking outside my brothers elementary school, due to them taking me and making her come out of hiding. I went from children services to an urgent care facility, to a drug rehab center, to a mental hospital of my own, all within a 48 hour period. I was spit at and threatened by patients, called a liar indirectly by my close and distant relatives alike, and treated like a paycheck by employees at each place. I still wanted to die. I just felt that way in a mental hospital 3 hours away from everyone I knew. I was kept there for 6 days and then sent to live with an aunt on my dad's side of the family that I had only seen at Christmas's and Easters. I shortly had to go back to a different mental hospital which only kept me for 5 days. After living with her, I went to live with my grandma and aunt and uncle and cousin on my mom’s side. I was given the privilege of finishing out my school year living with them. The only thing that got me through was being promised I could live with my dad and his fiance at the time (who was not much older than me, I wasn't even sure she was legal) when the summer came and we could move out of state to start fresh somewhere else. He never knew how to parent tho. I packed all the things I had in two garbage bags and we moved to live in a government run homeless shelter for the two months of summer before my freshman high school year. He couldn't figure out how to get me registered in the schools out in Wheeling and so I moved back to my mom's house and that was that. All children services did was piss my mom and her immediate family off and give them fuel to hate me even more for years to come. That and give me a more realistic view of who my father really was, by killing my idealistic thoughts about him one day saving me. Thus my high school years began.

Part 2 to be written at a later date -KC

#personal #deppression #depressing thoughts #tw suicude #tw depressing thoughts #abuse tw #tw suicidal thoughts

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