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cloudcountry · 11 days

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fuck i literally realized a lot of this is due to how much I relate to him IM SORRRYRYRYRYRY but i just wanna talk about him today (i have no fun insights this is just yapping... URGGBSHGRFYGH I RELATE TO AND LOVE HIM SO MUCH SOBS ON UR DOOR STEP)

im sorry, i believe a little warning for the first paragraph i bring up my own dead sibling cause I wanted to get that out of the way

This is decently specific to me: I have a younger dead sibling and idia is just i can relate just so hard to bc of that one fact, (gets out the idia journal) we were around the same age when our siblings died we think we both got them killed through harmless fun comments and just having someone so close to you as your younger sibling die at a young age kinda fucks with you and stuff idrk whats going on but something is

we both have social anxiety i don't think mine is as bad but if i had the option to just talk through a tablet i would, especially in certain situations where i'll freeze up (aka talking to any waiter ever) I genuinely a lot better when im there for someone else that has so we could have a symbiotic relationship for social situations

+ I NEED TO REASSURE HIM HIS DAMN IMAGINARY AUDIENCE ISN'T ACTUALLY REAL NOT EVERYONE HATES YOU YOU DON'T HAVE TO ACT LIKE IT IM RIGHT HERE I LOVE YOU SM :((

Okay funny silly time: love of cats omg cats i love cats he loves cat give him cat he would be unsure how to treat it exactly bc he never had a childhood cat but he has done so much research on cats that he probably could info dump on the cat on why it so cool and the best thing ever "Awww did you know you get a lot of your water from your food bcuz you're a dessert animal and you avoid still standing water due to your prey possibly contaminating the water" please let him see those stray cat cams in china he would love donating food to them,, he would be spear heading naming everyone and making sure they all get a wiki page

OKAY ENOUGH ABOUT IDIA AND CATS BUT HE WOULD SEE IF HE COULD GET THE FUNDS TO OPEN A CAT SHELTER AND FEED SO MANY STRAY KITTIES MOVING ON

baby noooooo,,,, :(( yes im looking back on his after overblot dialogue as a reference even though i just read it anyways,,, Idia will never be able to have his own life separate from his family, since yk cursed and shroud, it's basically a path that was bricked in for him. its like his life path is a long corridor that leads to the same road no matter what he picks. Especially since his unique magic locks him into working for STYX since he can just open a very vital thing and idk almost take over the world. if the shrouds acc got unique magic i think idia could have actually went on to lead a decently good life whether he was STYX head by choice or something else (game dev)

hes so passionate about the things he enjoys, there is so many examples of this, he's into so many things and loves them all with his whole heart it's so endearing (also uhsn dfbghrg bonding over media is the best, hes probably so fun to talk to about media... but he might lord knowing so much over you >:p ily just let me put my two cents in you can keep info dumping idia) OUGH (ignore me doing the hand thing PLEASE I LOVE IDIA I LOVE ORTHO IM ENJOYING WRITING THIS SM) OKAY ANYWAYS aww okay reading over idia's dialogue like im writing you an argumentative essay or something,, STAR ROGUE! the idia of idia (wtf r u writing edie) HIS SILLY ASS SLANG HRGBHRBGVLRHG "OUR LEGEND, POP OOOFF!" Anyways idia just recounting everything about star rogue without second thought he loves it sm he probably played it sm he knows the opening by heart (IDIA AND ORTHO SAYING THE TAG LINE TOGETHER THIS IS KILLING ME AUBURN)

hes heard so often that he was genius when he was really young it was just hardwired for him to think he was the best in the room especially with the advancements he has made from the ages of 10-12. like building ortho is genuinely a feat and he did it and two years definitely he's going to let that go to his head. ngl i feel that his parents were not too great probably absent most of the time since he can just lock himself in his room and work on something that no one knows about for two years. probably fucked him up developmentally too, he was NOT properly socialized the internet was his parents for the entire time probably

he wants to be FUCK THIS SHIT ACC OMG CRIES IN A CORNER SADDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD HE JUST WANTED TO BE A COOL ADVENTURER HERO GUY HE DIDN'T KNOW THAT WOULD HAPPEN!!!!! WHAT WENT WRONG IS NOTHING YOU WERE JUST A TOO SMART KID,,, IT'S NOT YOUR FAULT AND NEVER WILL BE YOU DIDN'T KNOW THAT WOULD HAPPEN OMG. DFGVJKDHJHBCBSHFBSFBSFR

it's like 12:30 right now my mental state is deteriorating this is stupid opinions for the most part i tried my best im sorry if this is bad but YOU SAID GUSH IN YOUR INBOX SO I MADE THAT HAPPEN???

-- with lots of love Edie

EDIEEE MY FAVORITE IDIA KISSER‼ THANK U FOR SHARING YOUR THOUGHTS READING THEM WAS SO INTERESTING!!

first of all holy shit im so sorry about what happened to your sibling. i totally get why you'd find him comforting because of that but Oh my gosh. im so sorry.

i think having social anxiety is something a lot of people can relate to with him, even myself. identity actually brought this up but seeing him being pushed into situations where he is ABSOLUTELY not comfortable makes me want to run in there and help him GET OUT. like i may not like this man that much but nobody should feel pressured or panic over entering a social situation they dont want to be a part of.

AH YES THE CAT CARD

RIGHT YEAH its so SAD how he will never get to live his own life and THATS one of the things that ive thought about a lot concerning him. like it would suck to actually have your fate predetermined no matter what. like he's just going to be stuck there with nobody else except for like ortho and his employees(?) but actually. yk what thats how he spent his school days which is even sadder hello

"the idia of idia" HELLO WHAT DOES THIS MEAN

actually! you bring up a good point about idia always being considered a genius since he was young and how that affects his self esteem and how he interacts with people now. i have literally never thought of it that way but it makes a lot of sense.

THANK YOU FOR SHARING YOUR THOUGHTS EDIE <3 I LOVED HEARING THEM!!

#edie <3

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allys-corner · 5 months

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Family Ties - Part 2

Summary: You and Eddie have known eachother since childhood, though a falling out between the two of you has led to you guys becoming distant. Can Uncle Wayne and your parent's meddling solve this issue?

Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader

A/N: Sorry it's a bit rushed but finally finished it :P

<><><>

It really was a shame that your Aunt Janice was staying for a week, or at least for Eddie it was. This is how he found himself stuck at the library with you talking about all your plans for prom. It was as if you were talking to a brick wall with how unresponsive Eddie was, but it didn’t seem to stop you. It was only when you brought up that Eddie should really find a date and go to prom, that he finally spoke up.

“Actually I did find a girl to take to prom. All the blabbering you did about it convinced me to go, so I hope you're happy.” He finishes. You weren’t sure if you were supposed to congratulate him or to apologize. You tampered down your hint of disappointment as you responded.

“I’m so glad, Eddie! You’re gonna have more fun than you think.”

“Yeah, sure, let’s hope.” a moment passes before he quietly asks “Are you going with anyone?”

“Are you telling me you care?” you question teasingly.

“No, I just wanna judge your choice in men.” Eddie quips.

“Well… if you must know, one of the basketball players asked me out, and his name is Reed.”

“Wow, Reed, couldn’t have found a Joe or an Adam instead, it had to be the guy with the weird name.”

“Whatever,” you groan “I shouldn’t even have told you.”

“Yeah, probably” Eddie shrugs with a smirk before turning back towards his project, and with that the conversation is over.

The few weeks leading up to prom had you more stressed than usual. Firstly, your dress had arrived late and been the wrong size so you had to exchange it. Secondly, your concealer had spilled all into your makeup bag, so you were having to borrow Stella's kit. This is how you found yourself surrounded by a group of gaggling girls a couple hours before prom. If you knew that Stella was going to insist on doing your makeup for you, you would have gone and bought some makeup from the store instead, but alas here you were.

With a face full of powder and more lipstick than you've ever worn in your life, you finally are released from Stella's grasp. They fawn over you for a couple moments before returning to their own reflections. With the makeup done the only thing left was to pin up your hair.

Moving as to not be noticed, you break from the group and make your way towards your closest. Opening it up, you shove your clothes aside and reach for the box in the back. The box was taped up with EDIE AD Y/N TRESURES in Eddie's messy scrawl. You had kept onto it long after Eddie had stopped talking to you. Opening it up, you push aside a marble and some old lottery tickets before finding what you were looking for. You reach in and pull out the piece of jewelry from inside. You examine the piece while your mind is taken back to the moment you got it.

It was late summer and it was nearing the start of school. This meant that you and Eddie were outside everyday taking advantage of your last vestiges of freedom. Your small childish footsteps sounded loud thundering through the forest as you feel Eddie hot on your heels. Suddenly a branch is in front of you; you misstep and go flying right into the thick mud. The fall doesn’t hurt much, but it has left you covered in mud stains.

Tears gather in your eyes quicker than you can even think to call them. This had been a new outfit your mom had gotten you a week ago and now it was completely ruined and not to mention that Eddie was about to see you looking worse for wear. You hear Eddie run up beside you as you gather your strength to push up from the ground. You can’t even meet his eyes as you stagger to your knees, but Eddie doesn’t let you get far before he’s grabbing your elbow and helping you up.

Before he can make a witty remark about your dumb clumsiness, he notices the tears running down your cheeks. You’ve bitten your lips to try to stop the noises, but they are hard to miss in the quiet forest. Eddie seems to flounder on how to help you before he seems to spring into action. He grabs your hand and begins pulling (more like dragging) you back towards his trailer.

When you reach the inside, Eddie leads you to his room. He busts the door open and strides over to his toy chest. He rummages around for a good minute before pulling out something that seemed odd residing inside. It was a red jeweled brooch with an intricate gold band holding it in place, while a few stones decorated the outlining metal. The jewels were definitely fake and the metal paint was peeling off the bottom, but in your eyes it was the prettiest thing you’d ever seen.

“Where’d you get this?” You ask in wonder, not taking your eyes from the trinket.

“Do you like it? I was gonna give it to you for your birthday in a few weeks but you seemed so sad I thought you wouldn’t mind getting it early.” His sheepish grin let you know that he was nervous about your opinion of his gift. You’re overcome with love for your friend and before you can think too much, you are grabbing him into a hug and pressing a big kiss to his cheek.

Eddie tolerates it for a bit before shoving you off while playfully whipping his cheek. You aren’t bothered though because this gift proved that Eddie cared for you just as much as you did him.

You are broken from your thoughts as the girls call you downstairs for pictures. You quickly secure the brooch in your hair piece and place the box back in the corner of your closet.

Walking down the stairs you notice that your date had still arrived. Agreeing to take the pictures without him, you begin a good round of fake smiles before everyone is done and ready to go.

"Do you know how much longer he's gonna be?" Beth's stuffy voice blurts out after a bit of silence. It was ten minutes past 7, and they were impatiently waiting around by the front door.

"No, he hasn't texted me back" you take a quick glance at your blank phone screen before straightening up,"but you know what, you guys go on ahead. I'm sure he'll be here soon." you pipe up giving a weak hesitant smile. The group looks you over before Abby speaks.

"Are you sure? I mean we just really don't wanna be late.'' The fake sincerity is evident from a mile away, but you just give another lip twitch.

"Yeah, don't worry about it. I'll be there soon,” you reply.

That's all the convincing needed for the group to herd out your door, already gabbing about whose riding in whose car. You take a seat on the couch and glance at the clock again. Only a couple minutes had passed since you last looked, that wasn't very late at all.

<><><>

Eddie was outside enjoying a cigarette (and a break from the hellish dance) when he saw Reed’s blue truck pull up. Well, at least she’s having fun tonight. Hope I don’t have to hear all about it tomorrow. She sure does like to talk. The thought brings on an unintentional smile to his face.

Eddie’s thoughts are cut short when he sees Reed and his buddy pile out along with two girls. As Eddie looks at them trying to identify you, he realizes that neither of them are you. He observes Reed putting his arm around the short blonde’s shoulder, and Eddie’s feet start to move on their own. Before he knows it, he’s reaching the group.

“Hey man, what’s up?” Eddie butts in, throwing himself into the group’s path, “Where’s y/n?” he asks, looking around at the group once more.

“Probably at home, dude,” Reed chuckles snidely, looking at his friend as if he was done with the conversation already.

“I thought she was going with you tonight?” Eddie implores harshly, placing himself back into the guy’s sights.

“She was, until I decided to go with Jessica here,” he leans in “She’s a bit easier on the eyes, and other things, if you know what I mean.” Eddie jerks away from him, quickly. With anger coursing through him, he grabs the jock’s arm roughly and drags him closer.

“So, did you let y/n know that you found another date or not?” Eddie demands.

“Yeah, sure freak, that’s what I did” he laughs, shrugging off the grip before turning to head inside the gym. He doesn’t get far before Eddie slams his fist into the back of his head. From there, the fight was pretty messy as it was two against one. Even with the odds, Eddie didn’t back down.

<><><>

The ring of the doorbell knocks you from your thoughts. You had already tried calling Reed about a hundred times and realized that he was a no show. That’s why you were curled up on the couch when the noise arose. Thankfully your parents had already left, and Aunt Janice was fast asleep in her room. You didn’t have the heart to tell them yet and you were still clinging to your fading hope a while longer. You feel your heart start beating faster as you walk towards your front door thinking maybe someone was here looking for you. Your face turns to one of confusion when you see a thoroughly roughed up Eddie Munson outside.

<><><>

About 2 hours and a broken liquor cabinet door later, you and Eddie are sat side by side on your family’s couch. A bottle of cheap rum sitting nearly empty in Eddie’s lap. You had figured out early on that Eddie could drink a lot more than you. That’s why your brain-to-mouth filter was mostly gone at this point.

“Eddie, why are you so harsh to me all the time? Did I do something to upset you?” you question softly looking downtrodden. Eddie looks shocked by your bluntness and takes a deep breath before responding.

“The only reason I was mean to you is because of the people you hang out with,” he reasons.

“Oh come on they’re not all that bad” You begin to defend before Eddie shoots a pointed look at your prom dress.

“Okay, yeah, they are kind of the worst.” You chuckle while sitting up further on the couch. The new position puts you and Eddie at eye level. You look down to try and hide your blushing cheeks. As you look down at your lap, the honesty spills out unhindered by the alcohol.

“The only reason I hung out with them is because I didn’t see myself belonging with your group of friends anymore. You guys got along as soon as you met and I was so happy for you,” you struggled for a minute before continuing “but it sort of felt like you had finally found your guy group, and I was the awkward girl your uncle forced you to hang out with.”

Eddie takes your hands from your laps before replying, “I never saw you as just a family friend and at that time we were both pretty awkward,” Eddie jokes “You and I were like Bonnie and Clyde, always making trouble for everyone else and having fun while doing it.”

You let out a soft laugh and Eddie smiles, “but when you started making excuses about hanging out, I figured you were done being friends with the class weirdo.”

“Eddie, you are not a weirdo. You are the most caring, kind, big-hearted person I know, and I would give up all the friends in the world just to be friends with you.” You gesture around the empty living room “Look around, do you see how great my non-weirdo friends are? Not a single one of them is thinking about me right now, but you gave up your date and a night with your guys to come hang out with this mess,” you conclude, gesturing to yourself. Eddie looks at you for a moment before shaking his head, curls flying everywhere.

“See, that’s were your wrong, princess. I’ve never had my shit together a day in my life. I thrive off the so-called “mess” so I’m exactly where I want to be tonight.”

Tears gather in the corners of your eyes as you process his words. Eddie was the first person besides family in a long time to actually want to be around you, and it felt really nice.

Before you can get too lost in thoughts, Eddie hesitantly speaks again, “So, since we're being honest to each other tonight and everything, I think I need to tell you something.”

It’s as if the atmosphere changes with each word, and you just know that he’s about to say something really important. It sobers you up a bit, as you tilt your head to look at him fully.

“Um, so, ever since the first time we met, back when we were toddlers, I’ve always thought you were just the greatest.” You give a tentative smile, “I mean it was like you were the missing piece and I felt whole when I was with you.” Eddie stops to gauge your expression and you respond with a watery smile.

Encouraged by your look, Eddie continues on, “It took me a long time to realize why I felt this way, and by the time I got there you were already disappearing from my life. As time went on, I started to resent you a lot for leaving me, and I thought the feelings that I had had gone away, but every time I saw you in your cute overalls and your tacky shirts it would come back to me.”

“I wanted to ignore it, but I don’t think I can anymore.” Eddie takes a deep breath before looking directly at you, “I’m in love with you, y/n. I have been from the moment I met you and I probably will be until the day I die. And it's dumb and mushy and so not hardcore, but I just wanna be around you all the time! When you're out of my life, it’s just not the same and I don’t wanna ever go back to that again. That’s why, if you don’t feel the same, we’ll never have to tal-“ Your lips cut off Eddie’s words as you crash into. A bit too hard, from all the liquor, but you guys enjoy it all the same.

Air is needed too quickly as you both pull back, shyly. Eddie’s hand is resting on your cheek and both your lips are slightly swollen and tasting of liquor, but you didn’t think your first kiss could be any better than that. Except maybe your second kiss? Guess you’ll just have to find out ;)

#reader insert #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fic

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serendipitys-teapot · 11 months

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Snippet Sunday

Thank you for tagging me, @wonderingaround1980! Am I supposed to wait for Sunday to do this? I don't know, I'm new and stupid so the rules don't apply to me, right? 🙃

I'm sure some of you guys have already been tagged, but I'll invite @kalliesa, @westernlarch, and @dispatchwithlove to participate if you guys would like!

This isn't the next chapter in my fic Loyalty and Limerence, but it's one that's coming up soon. I've shared a line or two with some folks before I think, but here's some context for that joke!

“Is our current situation an emergency?” Garrus didn’t know what the geth equivalent of a raised brow was. Maybe it was moving around those little flaps around its light? It was hard to tell over the comm. “A geth meddling with our computers, telling me how to do my job?” He scoffed as he struggled not to laugh, “Nah, I can’t imagine that would qualify.” “Stop teasing it.” Garrus spun to see Jane leaning against the door frame, her arms crossed and an amused look on her face. She pushed off and stepped into the room, and he smiled. “They still don’t understand sarcasm very well, despite my best efforts. EDI, however, is coming along nicely.” “Thank you, Jane.” They both jumped at the AI’s sudden interruption, “I have sectioned off a portion of my processing power to be devoted to learning organic mannerisms, and I am pleased to report that it has only reduced the capabilities of the Normandy’s weapons suite by .28 percent.” The statement was delivered with such sweet, innocent self-congratulation that it took a moment to sink it before hitting Garrus over the head like a brick. “W-wait a moment! EDI, you can’t be serious!” He stammered, indignant outrage battling with math calculations for space in his brain as his eyes widened. “I work on these calibrations every goddamn day, and you’re telling me that you’ve been-” “That was a joke.” EDI cut in before he could continue, her voice flat in the manner of someone containing their amusement a little too well. The room was silent for a moment before Jane burst out laughing. Garrus stood there, dumbfounded as his mandibles flicked absently, embarrassment washing over him as his anger quickly evaporated. “So, our weapons capability is still-?” “I would never do anything to intentionally endanger the Normandy or the lives of the crew, Garrus.”

#snippet sunday #edi knows where to stick the knife #fanfiction #sneak peek #mass effect #garrus vakarian #commander shepard #legion

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grimdochdraws · 1 year

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commander artemy shepard! russian spacer, vanguard, paragon, sole survivor, holder of many titles.

he's an absolute brick of a man (kaidan for scale). but he's still quite nimble and capable of vaulting and combat rolling wherever he pleases!

cerberus rebuilt him primarily with synthetics. he's only got his brain and a few organs left after the SR-1 was destroyed. the rest of his body is a machine, much like EDI, with a synthetic skin layered over top. his true nature as a glorified brain in a jar is kept a tight secret, if only because he's still grappling with his identity as a 'human'.

artemy barely missed being sent to BAaT like kaidan, instead being outfitted with an experimental early-L3 implant and privately trained by a krogan battlemaster.

i'd love to say more if anyone is interested ;;]

#mass effect #commander shepard #kaidan alenko #artemy shepard #please god send me asks about him i love him so much #also if you do you get more art so its a win win

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little-leaf-man · 5 months

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Modern au Edie and Arne. 6ft+ well dressed teenager wants to throw bricks whilst his grandma is busy tormenting her fave employee (She is throwing peanuts at Dutch’s head)

#my art #kit art #Arne Parelius #Edith Parelius

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goddess-of-all-creation · 2 months

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Chapter 4 Lost fragments

TW: this chapter is mostly about psychological effects of torture, though it won't include graphic descriptions of it.

(Chapter list / Read on ao3)

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●

The Auschwitz camps were a devastating sight. Even thirty years later, without the blood and screams and aching bodies clinging to life. It was heart-wrenching to be back. But there was a promise to be kept.

He could still pinpoint where everything had been back then. The different buildings and what they were used for. Where he had been tortured, experimented on, trained on Schmidt’s words. In those very same buildings, he had seen many like him die. He had seen the worst humankind had to offer. The columns and beams trembled near his presence, and soon the whole ground started to shake. He heard his name whispered in the background but paid no attention. That was where he had last seen his mother, where he failed to protect her. Where he failed to help others. Where he let himself be used. Charles had told him one time, “You were a kid. It wasn’t your fault.” But Charles hadn’t been there, he had. And after… What had he done after? Other than fail once more to protect his kind. He had a target on his back, and an unfinished sentence for a murder he had not only not commited, but actively tried to prevent. Pieces of concrete and brick started to fall as the structures shook. Such was his legacy; his life had been worth nothing and brought nothing but pain. For him and for others.

“Erik?”

He promised himself he would only come back once he was done. Once he finished with every single one of the monsters that had done this. But he'd never be done. Not really. His feet weren’t touching the ground anymore. He was pulling on everything he could. On the metal of those blood covered buildings, and the metal inside the blood drenched earth. Erik was a man possessed. Dirt flew everywhere in a dusty mess. He didn’t care. He wanted that place to finish the job. To end him.

“Erik!” And in an instant, everything stood still. The metal particles in the air and the beams and the columns. And him. He heard a voice in his head. Her voice. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to do this. But you’re hurting yourself.”

It wasn’t like when Charles did it. This felt strange, invasive, like someone pulling on his soul and taking it for a walk. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.” He couldn’t see anymore, blinded by the tears he was trying to hold. “Breathe” His cheek was touched softly by a ghostly hand. He took a deep breath. “You did what you could, you can rest now.” Images of his mother, his father, his friends, his neighbors, all came to him in flashing light. Images form a better time, a time when he had enjoyed life. He fought against it, it was a lie. He could never rest. He’d never be done. He could never erase the tragedies, the loss. But the memories persisted until he was fully embraced by them. “There’s a lot of evil in our worlds. You’ve been through so much. You survived so much. Please don’t let it take you with it now.”

He was tired, too tired to keep fighting the past but also too tired to keep fighting himself. She took advantage of this moment of vulnerability to pull him out of his shocked state, returning him to his body. He hit the ground with a thud, falling to his knees. Everything returned to how it looked before, if a little bit dustier and rougher. She offered a hand and he took it, ashamed of his outburst.

He walked around, seemingly aimless. He spent a couple minutes trying not to think, only feeling instead. Feeling the metal underground, looking for something. After a couple minutes he found it: the tiny pendant that belonged to Edie Lensherr. A simple star of David made from silver, gifted to her by Jakob. In life she had only worn it on special occasions. He found it near the gates, covered by decades of dirt and debris. Erik pulled it out and stared at it for a moment. The only thing they hadn’t taken from him was his memories, and even those had been buried under piles of hatred and plans of revenge. “It’s beautiful.” Kay said. He put it in his pocket and started walking, facing away from her.

“You had no right to do that.”

“Maybe not. But I wasn’t going to let you kill yourself.” In a second, she was right there beside him, struggling to keep up with his fast-walking pace.

“Still, it was none of your business.” He had been blinded by rage before and knew exactly what followed. Chaos, destruction, a desperate attempt to both drown in self-pity and not feel anything at all. “You should go.”

“Really? I should go. So, you don’t want me here?” She stepped in front of him, stubborn and beautiful. It was hard not to feel like a monster when she had just saved his life, and all he wanted was to tell her to fuck off. She sighed. “I get it, I do. You deserve closure. But this is a place of mourning. And out of all people, you should understand that the most. Don’t you think other survivors deserve to mourn too? Would you really take that away from them?” Erik remained stoic, focusing on the way she threw her arms everywhere when she spoke, or how some stray hairs were getting on her face. Anything to ignore what she was saying. Because it was true, and it hurt how true it was. “I’m not gonna tell you how to live. Or how to die, for that matter. But here? Like this? Out of the rage they put in you? I might be wrong, but it looks a lot like this is in line with what they wanted. If you do it like this… Then they win.” Her voice had softened until it reached a faint whisper. She looked down, a single tear slowly making its way down her cheek. “You don’t have to listen to me but…”

He gave up. With a hand on her shoulder and his head down, he took a deep breath and a step closer to composure. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be. I don’t want you to be sorry, I want you to be safe.” And there it was again. Safety. Safety wasn’t made for people like him. “Maybe it’s silly to want that for people like us. But we could try. Don’t you think we should try?”

“Are you reading my mind?”

“I don’t read minds. I could get in your head but it’s more…”

“Are you in my head right now?” He spat impatient. Looking at the brown in her eyes made him feel like his insides were burning. His muscles tensed and jaw clenched. But the intense burn in his chest that wasn’t unpleasant like before. It was something else. They were too close, both breathing heavily.

“No. I won’t do it again. I promise.”

“Good.”

#erik lensherr x oc #erik lensherr x reader #erik lensherr #x men fanfiction #x-men #writing #fanfiction writing #marvel #mcu

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stickers-on-a-laptop · 1 year

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Flirting & Flouncing

Word: Flirting. Pairing: Zox/Kaito/Stacey. Request: @melotuzu

The thing about Kaito, Zox thought, was that he had no idea what flirting was. Stacey did, and Stacey was half-Kikainoid and sheltered as all get out, but Kaito? No. It was honestly easier to flirt with a brick wall than with Goshikida Kaito.

Not that it stopped Zox from trying.

---

“Come on, it’d get some reaction from him!”

“He’s still not going to get it,” Stacey pointed out, walking away with that little hip swish that drove both Zox and Kaito crazy. “Besides, I fail how to see how flirting while you’re in my clothes would make it any more effective if the pirate outfit doesn’t already work. He already fell for you, didn’t he?”

“You could dress in my clothes two! Kaito would love it,” he wheedled.

Stacey turned around, his arms crossed. “You just want to see me in your clothes,” he accused.

Zox smirked at him. It was definitely a perk if Stacey agreed, but it wasn’t necessary to Zox’s plan.

Stacey stared at Zox, clearly appraising him, before rolling his eyes. “Fine, but you’re not wearing my clothes, you’re nowhere near my build, we’ll get the tailors to make you an identical outfit.”

“Yo-ho-hoi!”

---

“Welcome,” Gaon called from behind the counter before rushing up to Zox and Stacey.

“Are you two wearing each other’s clothes?” he asked, his hands on his face in delight. “That’s so cute!”

Zox made a face but didn’t press it, considering Gaon said that about every single humanoid on every World.

“Kaito! Zox and Stacey are here!” Gaon called up the stairs.

“Coming!” was the enthusiastic response.

Kaito came running down the stairs at his usual full-throttle speed, nearly running into Stacey.

“Woah, sorry Zox!”

“I’m not Zox, Kaito,” Stacey said patiently.

Kaito looked at the two of them more closely, his grin spreading as he realized that Zox was in a duplicate of Stacey’s black outfit and Stacey was in Zox’s clothes, slightly too big for him.

“Wow, is there a reason for this?” he asked, running his hands over Stacey’s waist and then Zox’s shoulders.

Zox leaned on the counter, putting on his most sultry look.

“We just thought you’d like it,” he purred.

Kaito looked at the two of them again, Stacey now tucked under his arm. “I do! Although I’m not used to it, but you guys look good in everything,” he said. “I gotta go get groceries, did you two want to come with?”

“Sure,” Stacey said easily, shooting a look at Zox. “I have time today.”

Zox pouted but agreed to come. Kaito could usually be persuaded to buy a few extra treats.

---

Since Zox wasn’t that interested in grocery shopping, he didn’t stay with Stacey and Kaito as they got the necessities, too busy filling a basket with what he wanted, making a mental list of what he really wanted vs what he could part with if Kaito didn’t want to get it all.

“Free samples,” called one of the workers, piquing Zox’s interest. Kaito and Stacey were already there, and the worker was definitely eyeing Kaito in a way that seemed a little too interested.

“Do you live around here?” the worker asked Kaito, giving him a wink once Kaito made eye contact.

“Hmm? Oh yeah, it’s just that usually Gaon gets the groceries, but today he’s manning the counter, so I came instead!” Kaito explained. “These weenies are really good! Don’t you think so, Stacey?”

“Do you recommend any good restaurants?” the worker tried.

“Well, you can always come to--”

“He doesn’t,” Zox interrupted, putting his arm around Kaito’s shoulders, who put his arm around Zox’s waist once he saw it was Zox. “Sorry, sweetheart, he’s taken.”

The worker looked surprised for a second, then blushed. “Sorry, I was too forward.”

Kaito looked puzzled as Zox steered him away from the free sample table, although not before taking two free samples.

“She was flirting with you, you know.”

“Was she?”

“Kaito.”

Kaito looked like he was considering it for about two seconds before shrugging and running off to a display of some limited edition…something, dragging Stacey with him. Zox shook his head and followed.

---

“Do you have free time now, Kaito?” Zox asked once they were back at Colorful, groceries put away. Zyuran had an air of “raised eyebrows” when he saw the trio, while Vroon hadn’t noticed, too busy with his nose in a book.

“Yeah, why?”

“Don’t you want to come up to my ship?” Zox asked in his most sultry voice, lifting an edge of his current outfit. He hadn’t bothered with black pants underneath.

“I always like going up to your ship, Zox!”

“Pirate. Please. Just kidnap him,” Stacey said with his face in his hands.

“And you as well?”

Stacey looked up, scowling.

“So that’s a yes?”

Stacey marched up to Zox, putting a finger under his chin. “You know your flirting works on me.”

Zox chuckled, grabbing Kaito and going outside, trusting Stacey was right behind him, calling the ship and taking the two into his bedroom, where clothes didn’t matter.

#fanfic #kikai sentai zenkaiger #zox goldtsuiker #stacey zenkaiger #goshikida kaito

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gemslittlelibrary · 2 years

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You Really Don't Need to Read "The Ink Black Heart"

Hi Joanne,

You’ll never read this, of course. I wouldn’t send this to you, nor would I send any author a review of their work. Since you seem to have a habit of looking for yourself online (including in spaces for the disabled, perhaps?) I suppose there’s a small chance, so I’ll warn you now: This is not a positive review. Nor is it an attack, but, since it contains criticism, I’m sure you’d take it that way regardless.

Happy reading.

Where to begin? The Ink Black Heart by “Robert Gailbraith” (the irony of the author using a pseudonym for this book, which despises those who use different names online, is not lost on me) is a ridiculously long brick that is less of a mystery and more of the author’s attempts to paint herself as a victim.

In the Kindle edition, at a whopping 1462 pages long, the main mystery isn’t actually introduced until page 50. The previous pages consist of the drawn out “will they/won’t they” romance between the two detectives, something that has been an annoying side story for the past four books as well, and is continued throughout this novel in torturous passages of two people assuming the other’s thoughts, never being honest, and pretending everything is absolutely fine.

If that doesn’t sound like a decent subplot, there’s no need to worry. Besides the case for which the book is named, readers are given no less than four other cases taken on by the agency, with two more romantic side plots. After all, why be succinct when you can devote hundreds of pages to the prolonged child abuse of two young girls–something that the detective is more than happy to let slide until it’s been filmed– instead?

I’m afraid I’ve gotten a bit ahead of myself. If you haven’t read any other books in the Cormoran Strike series, you’re probably quite confused, so let me give you a quick overview: Our titular character, Cormoran Strike, is a disabled war veteran, illegitimate son of a rock star, and irresistible to women (something I will be discussing later on). He initially hires Robin Ellacot as his secretary, but after learning how useful she can be, he eventually promotes her to fellow detective, and later to business partner. Robin, initially engaged to be married, quickly finds her feelings for Strike and the job to be an issue between herself and her partner, culminating in a short-lived marriage that quickly ends in divorce.

So, now that our heroes have been introduced, we can move onto this installment of the series. To sum up all of the superfluous content: Stark tries to kiss Robin, she backs away, he starts messing with another woman to make her jealous (a common theme), and they both stew with their sexual tension. The agency, which has grown from the two of them, is booked solid with cases (a son stealing expensive things from his father, a mother whose daughter is being groomed by her ex, cheating husbands, and so on), so when the “scruffy” Edie Ledwell arrives at the office, Robin is forced to turn her away, though not before listening to her story. Edie is the co-creator of a popular web cartoon, and has been on the receiving end of vicious online harassment. When she’s found stabbed to death in the graveyard where the story is set, along with her injured co-creator, Robin and Strike are on the case.

As with previous Strike books, Rowling’s main tactic of creating a tricky mystery is to simply throw so many characters and side plots at the reader until they’re completely befuddled, unable to have a coherent thought and therefore unable to solve the case. This book is perhaps the best example of that, with suspects using various internet handles along with their real names. If there were fewer suspects, connecting the handles to their legal names might have been fun to figure out, but with throwaway accounts, a huge fandom, the cast of the show, and more peripheral figures to suspect, it’s a bit much. Pro tip: If one (or several) of your big reveals are characters that haven’t been introduced to the reader, you’ve failed at writing a good mystery.

It quickly becomes apparent that this entire mass of bound pages is simply a self-insert fanfic. The implication being that, if/when she leaves the internet for good (I highly doubt she believes someone would murder her), everyone will regret their treatment of one Joanne K. Rowling.

Edie’s cartoon, which is also titled The Ink Black Heart, has apparently been the target of criticism by some fans, with accusations of racism, transphobia, and ableism. Infuriatingly, readers don’t learn enough about the cartoon to see what exactly is being criticized in the book’s universe. There are a few throwaway examples, mostly accusations by a blog called The Pen of Justice, but since its author is simply pretending to be progressive while simultaneously using the platform to find underage girls to groom, it’s safe to say that these accusations are more or less meant to be baseless. This is further confirmed when it’s revealed that Edie was the target of a Neo-Nazi group that specialized in spreading misinformation about prominent left-leaning women with the hopes of driving them to suicide. Interestingly, Rowling shows her hand here, with one of the targets being called Maya Sattherwaite. Her crime? Misgendering a trans woman in a private text message. Readers familiar with Rowling’s antics on Twitter may recognize that this is a poorly-disguised nod to Maya Forstater, someone who, according to CNN, “brought a claim against the Center for Global Development and CGD Europe, an international development think tank, after she lost her job as a researcher following comments on Twitter criticizing UK government plans to allow people to self-identify their gender.” Rowling subsequently defended her on Twitter. I can’t prove that the character is in any way connected to Forstater, but it’s an interesting point nonetheless.

So, to recap: Neo-Nazi trolls manipulate vulnerable fans into hating the creator of something they loved. A different person, apparently indifferent to this, ends up murdering Edie because he’s an incel. Another huge coincidence, but, ok, sure, there are lots of hateful people in the world. Besides the main plot, which genuinely seems like a very, very long-winded attempt to convince readers that any criticism directed towards Rowling herself is simply hate and trolling, due to her position as a prominent female left-leaning writer, there are other things, hidden throughout this monstrosity, that are extremely hurtful.

When the book was released, a few particular quotes started circulating the internet. The one I saw the most was a description of a suspect’s tumblr blog, through the eyes of Strike, who, in case you’ve forgotten, is a disabled man. The passage reads: “At the top was a picture of many silver spoons and the legend: Disabled artist - fashion, music, and bird lover - life right now is mostly about being sick. CF- fibromyalgia - POTs - allodynia - I need more spoons…”(Rowling, p. 419). For those unaware, the Spoon Theory is an analogy for fluctuating energy levels, commonly used in disabled online communities. The abbreviated conditions are Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (also known as myalgic encephalitis/ME) and Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome. All four conditions are invisible illnesses, meaning that they may not be visible upon first glance. A few more examples of posts are given, all of which are dramatic or about disabilities, such as how life is for more than working, or that using a mobility aid if needed is fine, even if that’s despite medical advice. Stark, our disabled hero, finds her blog to be “unattractively mawkish,” (Rowling, p.421) detests using a cane, and usually puts himself into far more risky situations to avoid being perceived as disabled. Although this isn’t totally portrayed as the correct thing to do, as his stump (as he calls it) eventually starts exhibiting symptoms of nerve damage due to lack of care, but it isn’t entirely shown as a negative thing either. This trait of his is constant throughout the series, usually including at least one moment where his “weakness” is exposed to the public in a humiliating fashion. I understand preferring to complete tasks unaided to avoid pity. I struggle with it, and I’m sure other disabled people do too. As the novel progresses, though, it’s clear Stark and Robin (and, I presume, the author), rank disabilities differently, as well as the people who have them.

Several of our murder suspects are disabled characters. Now, I don’t mind a disabled villain, as long as the disability isn’t the cause and sole reason for the villainous behavior. And, to be fair, the murderer does not have a disability (he does, however, have a serious skin condition requiring regular hospital visit, which I’ll return to later). The issue here isn’t that readers are meant to suspect disabled characters along with their able-bodied counterparts. The issue comes from the fact that nearly every disabled character is written to be extremely manipulative and unlikeable.

The disabled characters can be divided neatly into two groups, which I’ll be referring to as “good” and “bad.” The “good” disabled characters are Strike himself, Josh Blay, and Dr. Vikas Bhardwaj. Strike, as I mentioned, lost part of his leg saving the life of a fellow military man abroad. Josh Blay is the co-creator of The Ink Black Heart and is attacked alongside Edie. Although he survives, he’s paralyzed on one side of his body and left without feeling in the other. Interestingly, Strike dislikes Josh (a stoner artist) until meeting the now disabled man, with whom he forms a camaraderie of the unfairly attacked. Dr. Bhardwaj, though not injured, had speech and motor issues due to cerebral palsy. He’s also a child genius and a doctor of astrophysics. In his obituary, his family has “spoken of their immense and lasting pride in the genius who’d never let his disability stand in his way,”(Rowling, p.1232). “Never letting his disability stand in his way” is a classic line in inspiration porn. Inspiration porn is when the story of a disabled person who is painted as a hero for simply existing, or a success story like Dr. Bhardwaj’s or Strike’s. The model disabled person, it is implied, should not complain or admit that their disability has prevented them from doing anything.

This point is glaringly obvious when we look at the “bad” disabled characters. The owner of the tumblr referenced above is Kea Niven, a very pretty young disabled woman. When Strike goes to interview her, her mother cancels, saying Kea’s too ill to see anyone, and that she’s bedbound. Already having decided that Kea is a liar, he goes anyway, and readers are treated to scenes of Kea screaming at her mother and running from the house, before agreeing to meet with Strike, where she uses various symptoms as excuses to end the interview. It’s later revealed that she uses these symptoms to manipulate another “bad” disabled man, as well as weaponizing self-harm against her ex, who happens to be Josh. Knowing that her particular diagnoses often affect young women who are usually disbelieved, this was particularly difficult for me to read. I expected Strike to force her to run laps or something, gloating as he exposed a “faker” (a hobby that runs rampant on the internet).

The next “bad” disabled character is the aforementioned man, Inigo Upcott. Also diagnosed with ME, he uses a wheelchair and cane at different times. He’s also portrayed as an abusive, domineering, self-pitying tyrant. Our first introduction to him is at his home, where his daughter is home sick from school. As he condescends and terrifies his wife in front of the detectives, the girl comes into the room. This is his reaction: “‘Get BACK!’ roared Inigo with sudden ferocity, as though Flavia were a wild animal. ‘You are INFECTIOUS!’

Flavia stopped dead. ‘If you wish me to be bedbound for the next six weeks, by all means keep allowing her into

this fucking room!’”(Rowling, p.493).

In further conversations, we learn that Inigo had a promising career prior to his diagnosis, about which he is still, understandably bitter. At one point, while listening to his explanation, Strike contemplates how so many other people deserve pity more than this man. So, once again, the message is clear: You can be disabled, but it must be real and valid to me, a stranger. You mustn't complain or show signs of bitterness unless alone, and even then, do you really need that medication/mobility/accommodation? Why can’t you overcome it?

Even ignoring all of that, and the derision around the word “ableism”, our “heroes” are, quite frankly, rude, insufferable people. Stark has romantic relationships with women he quickly becomes annoyed with when they dare to ask for affection or that he, perhaps, not have so many outings with his beautiful blonde partner. He constantly thinks about the chest size of each woman we meet, and also decides if they’re pretty or ugly. It could be argued that Strike is simply an asshole, but our heroine describes people in the same way. Most women are described as plain, or drab, or overweight. If they’ve had plastic surgery, it will constantly be mentioned as a point to laugh about. Robin’s own “trim” figure, ample chest, and lack of plastic surgery is mentioned frequently as well. Both detectives constantly have members of the opposite sex waiting in line to, as the author would say, “bed” them. Robin, of course, has only been with one man, and Strike is actually quite aggravated when he hears her on a date with a suspect. She leads the suspect on, flirting and making out with him (which…I’m not sure is legal and is certainly morally questionable, but sure), recording all the while. Stark and Robin are equally possessive of one another, possibly codependent, with barely suppressed anger over the other being simply looked at by a potential partner.

There are other, subtler bits of hatred that stood out to me. The fans of this cartoon are consistently characterized as losers with no social life or proper job, having nothing better to do than attack innocents online. The female fans in particular have all been so pathetically alone that they’re easily manipulated by their male counterparts, doing their bidding, believing them, giving them alibis, and so on. Most receive no sympathy from the detectives, barring a minor and a young adult who had been groomed. Everyone else with even the slightest interest in the cartoon and its fandom, including the ex-girlfriend of a contractor at the agency, are chronically online dullards.

The grooming victim, though appropriately seen as innocent in the whole mess, is possibly dyslexic and anorexic. The former can be assumed from her online interactions(this book contains many, many chat room threads and tweets, which is a logistical nightmare), and descriptions of her appearance. Well, the detectives assume she’s anorexic, while describing her as child-like with the face of Death or a skull. The physical description is repeated despite Robin forming a relationship with the woman, so it isn’t a one-off identifying characteristic (not that that would excuse the language used).

One of the bits that disturbed me the most was a throwaway line by a minor character. Ilsa, Stark’s childhood friend and new friend of Robin’s, has met Robin for dinner. She’s been stressed about her latest case as a defense lawyer, which is so unbelievable I’ll simply cite the whole thing: “...she told Robin about the teenage girl who’d stood trial for helping plan a terrorist attack. ‘...so the other four were found guilty,’...’and so they bloody well should have been, but I thought, she’s finished. I could hear her mother sobbing behind us. But thank Christ the judge believed the psychologist. Fifteen, profoundly autistic and convinced she’d found real friends online…of course she fell for it. And she was the one they were going to strap the blood explosives to,’”(Rowling, p.400). This is literally never mentioned again. Another character mentions going to babysit his autistic nieces. There are mentions of characters helping with an art class for “special needs kids'', but besides one of the adults being a pedophile, working with the class is seen as a wonderful, selfless thing to do. These are both used as points towards a character’s morality, but Ilsa, who isn’t a suspect and is barely in the story at all, has no reason to chat about such a case. If Rowling wanted to simply use this chat as a way to indicate Ilsa’s stress, there are plenty of more common legal issues to use. The anecdote could be an attempt at foreshadowing, but the Neo-Nazi group isn’t mentioned in connection with that incident, and doesn’t use a specifc autistic character to further their goals.

My personal theory is that JK Rowling sees herself as a protector of autistic girls and women. In her weird transphobic blog post, she states that she believes a lot of trans men are simply autistic girls who have been manipulated by the world to think they’re boys. Oddly specific, but based on the overall petty tone of the novel, it wouldn’t surprise me. (There’s also a throwaway line where, when confirming a suspect’s gender, Robin states that they are female, because they’re on their period, and Strike answers that that definitely confirms it. Rowling famously tweeted a snarky response to an article about bring period products to everyone, which had used the phrase “people with periods”, and Rowling, afraid her precious womanhood was being erased, essentially mocked the phrase, saying she was SURE there was another, better word for those people.

Anyway, the novel ends with the teenaged incel, who purposely exacerbated his skin condition for pity, going on a hate-fueled rampage with a machete, murdering his father, Inigo, wounding his mother, stabbing Strike and attempting to sexually assault Robin as he spouted incel rhetoric. The rampage, though triggered by Robin connecting him to his various online aliases, also connected to his long-buried hatred of his disabled father.

As usual, the climax of the book occured ridiculously quickly, shoved into a few chapters of this over 1000-page book. Rowling seems to enjoy planting so many false leads that by the time it’s time to confront the real criminal, it reads like a hastily penned afterthought. After the rushed fight scene, we get an epilogue of the two lovebirds angrily pining for one another, as Robin has accepted a date, and the book ends with Strike cursing himself for not revealing his true feelings. Their romantic troubles will, I’m sure, be solved in another three, or perhaps four novels.

I’d like to note here that I did go into this book with an open mind. I’d enjoyed some of the previous Strike novels, and Rowling still has a fantastic talent for describing scenery. The various fancy places Strike and Robin visit on their adventures are the best part of the series, hands down. I also wanted to read the whole thing myself before commenting on the ableism. To me, a few screenshots could have easily been taken out of context, and I suppose I had some small hope that the book was not quite as hideous as it seemed. Unfortunately for me, it was worse.

Don’t read this book. Don’t pay $15 for an ebook, or even more for a physical copy. It’s not worth a hate read, or a curiosity read, or anything of the sort. It feels clichéd to say “I read this so you don’t have to”, but seriously, I read it in the hopes of diminishing the harm it would cause. I hate to say how much it affected me, because it just makes me fit the SJW spoonie snowflake persona that Rowling created to dismiss criticism and soothe her ego, but I’m certainly not one of her model crips. So, Joanne, if you see this, please know that your book caused me to feel terrible, and that I was shaking terribly today as I read it, due to some part of my conditions you don’t take seriously.

Don’t worry, though. I know you don’t care.

#spoonie #The Ink Black Heart #Robert Galbraith #tw ableism #tw fatphobia #tw paedophilia #book review #booklr #bookworm #spoilers

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tenojan-in-tevinter · 4 months

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I fucking love EDI so much. She cares so much. She's the best. Shepard just failed a mission for the first time since Akuze and she tries to cheer him up in several different ways. Even though he's in brick wall mode and really prickly. She's such a good friend I can't. Im going to go cry now.

#mass effect #me:le #me3 #just finished thessia #now it's time for Shepard to almost die talking to leviathan :)#god I love the Normandy crew so much #they're all the best #Raien loves them all too #raien shepard #the small little interactions after missions mean the world to me

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justnerdy15 · 1 year

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a needed conversation

WIP: Come Back Home

wic: 875

prompt: @flashfictionfridayofficial filled with clarity

background: teen!Edith talks to Mr. Finn about life.

Edith takes the letter with her to school. Tucked away in her backpack, it feels heavier than it should be, closer to a brick than a set of folded papers. Every time she glances at the smooth cream paper her heart skips a beat and she has the inane desire to pull the letter back out and reread it to make sure she read it correctly before she makes a fool of herself.

She ignores that silly part of her.

Instead she goes to Mr. Finn after third period and asks if they can talk after school. Mr. Finn gives the expected yes, but he clearly wants to ask her if everything is alright, concerned at her probably shifty behavior, but she makes a hurried excuse that she needs to get to class. Now is not the time.

After that, she forcibly shoves the letter to the back of her mind, and pays attention to her classes. Edith can’t risk slipping up now.

The day eventually ends with the last bell, students bursting out of the classrooms to clamber out the doors, and Edith makes her way back to Mr. Finn’s classroom.

Turning the corner, she sees Mr. Finn waiting for her in the hallway and she waves as she speeds up to meet him.

“Hi, Mr. Finn. Thanks for waiting,” Edith says, adjusting her backpack.

“It’s no problem, Edi,” he replies with a smile. “What had you all ruffled this morning?”

She doesn’t say anything. Edith shrugs off her backpack and pulls the letter out. “I got this in the mail on Monday.”

Mr. Finn raises his eyebrows, plucking the letter from her fingers, and unfolds it.

Edith watches as he reads, his eyes widening and lips stretching into a grin with each passing line.

A light, excited laugh escapes him and he looks up from the letter to her. “Edi, this is — this is wonderful. I am so proud of you.”

She smiles at that, laughing too as he wraps one arm around her shoulders, shaking her a bit as he congratulates her again. “Thanks, but uh —“ her smile dims as Mr. Finn steps back “— I don’t know if I’m going to go.”

His face falls. “What?” he asks, incredulous. He holds the letter up. “Edi, this is Brown. Brown University wants you.”

Edith shrugs and scuffs her foot against the vinyl floor. “I just — with everything that is going on, you know? It feels wrong to leave.”

Mr. Finn sighs, a long tired thing that makes her want to apologize, and straightens up. “Edith, I’m not going to tell you what to do, but I want you to hear me out for a second alright?”

She bites at her lip, pretty sure she knows what he is about to say, but nods anyways.

“I know that you love your siblings and I’m glad that they have someone like you in their lives, but you are not responsible for them. No, listen —“ he says holding up a hand when Edith starts to speak “— I get it. You feel like you are, but you’re a kid too — older, sure, but still a kid — and their sister, not their mom.”

“Mom’s barely a mom,” Edith argues.

“And that’s not your fault either.” Mr. Finn holds out the letter. “Edith, this could change your life. It gets you out of here and into college. It shows your siblings that they can also get out. It gives you opportunities that, frankly, don’t even exist here.”

Edith sighs, a bit petulant, even a little bitter that he’s right. Brown is everything that she’s dreamed about, but Jesus she didn’t think she’d actually get in.

“Look, Brown is going to be hard. I’m not going to deny that. But you’re brilliant and capable and I know that you can do it. Don’t deny yourself this because you’re worried about your siblings. If they’re even a fraction like you, they’re going to be okay.”

She opens her mouth speak, but the words are stuck in her throat. Her eyes are burning, she thinks distantly to herself, and she realizes with horror that she’s about to start crying.

God.

She reaches up to scrub at her face, embarrassed. “Mr. Finn, that’s —“ her breath hitches “— that’s real nice of you to say, but I think you have a little too much faith in me.” Her attempt at a self-depreciating tone fails, leaving her voice small and weak.

“I’d argue that you don’t have enough,” he replies softly. Mr. Finn reaches over to give her shoulder a squeeze, giving her a few brief pats. “Edith, you know I don’t suffer fools easily. I say these things because I believe it and I believe in you.”

Edith fixes her glasses, ignoring the smudges on the lenses, and lets a small smile come to her lips. “Thanks, Mr. Finn.” She’s probably stupid to believe him, but the utter confidence in his words makes it hard to do otherwise.

Maybe if she believes in his belief in her hard enough, she’ll be able to believe in herself one day.

For now, she thinks to herself, it’ll have to be enough.

Edith takes the letter back.

She ends up submitting her acceptance two weeks later.

#flashfictionfridayofficial #flash fiction #my writing #wip: Come Back Home #original fiction #writeblr #writerblr

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