#…I do need to fill out the Disability Form I was sent.
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I’ve…basically got college admissions all squared away and got in touch with the disability office (very early but well. with anxiety and adhd and chronic health at play kinda have to for my own sanity and keeping on-track) and…this will actually prolly be possible this time??
…also not sure what I’m gonna do with myself. Y’know when a lifted stressor can leave ya feeling a bit…unmoored? Mm. That.
#tiger’s musings#let’s be icarus#mental health bullshit#glass wrists#…I do need to fill out the Disability Form I was sent.#and see if the ONE (1) academic advising slot for this month is even still open. as I only get to see one month at a time#but…yeah.#hell. maybe I won’t even have to worry about housing yet if I can get everything online#…depends on well. where their choir rehearsals meet. but still#but…maybe by the time august? september? rolls around…my flareups will be less of an issue#since I’ll have been on humira for Several Months by that point + Not In Dead Of Winter
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Ayo! Greetings! I hope you are doing pretty well! I’m really sorry for asking this as I’m truly in dire need of help. My cat needs some immediate help for her surgery so I’m trying to raise some funds for her. If you have some spare time, please check it out the post that I have pinned for her, and if you feel it in your heart to help, please do us the favor by boosting the post or share it! Even if you cannot donate, spreading the word is definitely more than enough. Thank you for your kindness, and so sorry again for being this direct! <33
THIS IS A SCAMMER
But how do I know? And shouldn’t I reblog it just in case? It’s a valid concern. Fortunately, there are a few quick steps anyone can take to assess the validity of a charity request. Because at the end of the day, spreading a just-in-case message can have real negative consequences as other people continue to spread the scam on a just-in-case basis.
A sense of urgency (sickness, eminent surgery, etc)
They ask you directly to give them something
Familiarity, such as calling you “dear” or “hun”
Comments turned off
New account with few if any posts
Direct messages that ask for privacy in the matter
Use of pets, children, irrelevant mention of demographics (please help a disabled queer single parent feed their sick cat, etc)
No response to requests for more information
Copy and paste message that gets sent to numerous people
Photos that do not match up with the origin as found through reverse image search
Lack of creativity: you receive a similarly or identically worded request from a random account
Melodramatic backstory--we rescued this cat from an alligator attack that almost took the cat's eye!
Donation account linked to a country at high risk for hosting scam operations
And others. These are not ironclad rules, nor do they always show up in every scam post. Maybe they ARE a disabled queer single parent who can't afford to feed their sick cat. But these elements are patterns you can look for in order to make an informed judgment call. There is at least one popular tumblr account here that will not post any donation links unless the asker fills out a form allowing the account holder to independently prove their identity and issue. If a person is truly desperate and actually needs help, they will fill out that form. Asking for more information is always a good idea, as is doing a reverse image search to see where else the photos might have been posted. Checking keywords on tumblr is also a good bet. Remember: posting lies is quick and easy. Providing proof is not. And that’s critical if money is involved.
Scammers suck. But some of them are very good at what they do. They are masters of using people’s guilt and empathy against them.
Let's dig deeper.
First, let's check out that melodramatic backstory. It's a doozy!
It was actually her Birthday yesterday….well her gotcha Birthday! We found her on our balcony 4 years ago after an awful noise was heard and I still don’t know if she jumped up scared from something or if she was thrown on there 😔
She wasn’t chipped. Vet said it looked like she hadn’t long had kittens and looked about 3 years old herself. Couldn’t find her owners, so she joined our family. (Oh I looked for kittens believe me) She is the sweetest girl we ever met. She even purrs when she sleeps 😻we so love her.
We just very recently lost our cat Mimi. She had cancer sadly but we fought so hard to help her but in the end it won. We have an elderly dog called Billa who just two weeks ago turned 20!!!! Any day now we could lose her, she’s feeling her age 😔
I mention those two because it’s just too overwhelming and feels like Maggie is the only one I can help now. Upon an annual vet visit recently with Maggie….so I could get flea meds for her and her brother Milow that they were due to have…the vet found she had two masses….or tumors. One at the bottom of her back next to her tail (I don’t know how I didn’t see it before I’m so ashamed) and when she pressed on her stomach, my loving Maggie started growling which I can honestly say in the time we’ve had her she’s never done that. We did an X-ray and she found a mass in her stomach 😔 we also did a biopsy.
This is just so unexpected and so overwhelming after losing Mimi and knowing we will be losing Billa soon…just can’t lose Maggie also. I hate being in this position. I really pay forward as much as I can. I’ve helped out a couple of women with bags and cases of food for the cat colony’s they feed. One woman with food who has a lot of fosters who needed help with food. I think it’s 3 different pet surgeries I’ve helped contribute to for their treatment. It sucks to be on this side now but I’m really praying somehow it might be my turn to get some help to help Maggie get her ct scan so they can figure out the surgery route to remove the tumor from her stomach. I wish I was in a better situation at this moment to not need any help. We’ve always been there to help our babies no matter what they’ve needed, you have to try at least to help them.. And we’ve been able to pay for it ourselves until now. Now I’m able to work here, it can help set us up for future pet issues….I mean, we do everything for these guys including going to work lol but I’ve literally only had my permanent status the last few days instead of visas and it’s all been on my hubby until now who has been amazing, but after paying for Mimi’s help and then end of life, my flight to and from England for my immigration and all those fees and just paying for everything on his own…there’s a lack of funds now.
I just want Maggie to get some help and will somehow have to make this happen for her, so please if you have the means to, you can donate to my paypal which is linked down below
Come on, dude. At least be creative. Please make note of the highlights: dramatic injury, insistence (with evidence!) that the scammer is a Good Person Who Gives Back, Cancer Cat & Old Dog supporting characters, immigration drama regarding visas, sick cat had kittens that were never found, etc.
[speculation incoming] Also, laws regarding the importation of pet animals from other countries are strict, and always involve a vet visit. I doubt a vet would clear a cat with tumors to fly out of the country. Even if they did, the timeline here is weird. This vet clinic is in California. [speculation over]
Okay now let's look at these photos. (PSSST I instantly knew this person was a scammer because I've seen these exact x-rays and screenshots on other posts with different cat images. That's something else to look for. Scammers want to expend as little energy as possible in their hunt for your money.)
Where is the scam coming from?
Hovering over the Paypal link, I see the account is located in the Philippines, a country with a high risk of scam hosting. Red flags on red flags.
How to Reverse Image Search
Find a search engine that will let you search by image. This is Google Images on a Firefox browser on PC. Clicking the little camera gives me the option to upload, paste, or give the URL to a photo.
This time, the photo search wasn't helpful. There were no identical matches that Google picked up right away. But I'm including how to do this anyway because it's good to know.
Search Tumblr
We all know tumblr search sucks, but after looking up "cat scam" in the search bar, I found Everything.
Wait a minute.
SHIT THEY GOT MAVERICK POST CANCELED
@kyra45 appears to have amassed some good resources for finding and documenting these scams.
Be aware, be smart, report scam accounts for spam, block them, and do not post donation links "just in case."
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Hey Tumblr disability and neurodivergence communities?
I wanted to thank y'all for helping my husband get comfortable with getting a support my eldest needs.
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NQ goes to a middle school that is just SLIGHTLY under the minimum distance away to qualify for bus transport. (His elementary school, across a field, WAS far enough away.) We didn't have any trouble getting an exception for him this year, since in elementary school I needed to make eye contact with a teacher and have them acknowledge they were accepting responsibility for him. He had no agency at all, so obviously he couldn't be trusted to walk all the way to school!
This year, though. He's flourished. The school trusts him to get into the building himself, to get on and off the bus himself, to decide for himself when he needs breaks, etc. And as a 'reward,' our government sent me a form titled 'Physician's Certification of Physical/Severe Cognitive Ability,' to be filled out before he is allowed school busing next year.
It's full of hyperbolic language like, 'it is imperative that only those truly in need are provided this service,' 'the disability must be deemed severe or chronic,' 'resources ... are extremely limited,' and 'it is physically impossible for the individual to walk/take [Public] Transit.'
My husband was obviously uncomfortable. NQ is a smart and capable kid in many areas. He's autistic, (and ADHD) not cognitively disabled. My husband sees the world as possibilities and strengths, and didn't want to say things like that about his son.
So I talked to him about posts you guys have made that walk people through getting diagnosed, and/or filling out forms about disabilities. About the importance of describing the person's worst days, the ones where they will need the support the most, rather than focusing on what they can do at their best.
He got it! He supports us talking to the doctor! And he told me how grateful he was that I'd learned this stuff.
We got to talk about the reasons NQ REALLY needs bus support:
no sense of direction
forgets what he's doing and wanders vaguely for 20 minutes on a regular basis
VERY easily distracted
'Getting Off The City Bus At The Right Stop' is an advanced skill, and, for those with ADHD, requires a prerequisite 'Can Problem Solve What To Do When You're 10 Stops Past Your Stop And Lost'
'Checking That This is The Correct City Bus' is also an advanced skill
minimal stranger danger
germ phobias mean that if he wiped his nose his fingers would 'become contaminated,' which would mean he could NOT put his gloves back on, even if it was -20℃ (0℉). Which is a major frostbite risk.
no impulse control if he misses his medication - can not be trusted to not do things that might harm himself/others
without meds there is a 2% chance of him getting to school unassisted (with meds, he might be able to get up to 90% on good days)
Like, taking the bus is actually a sign of maturity! Previously, I had to drive him most days, and I still do 3 mornings a week. The 2 mornings he walks himself to the bus stop (and the afternoons he walks himself home) are things I'm really proud of! If we don't qualify for the school bus, he's going to go back to relying entirely on me, rather than slowly increasing his independence.
So thank you. Getting my husband's support on this was really important to me. You guys gave me the words to do it.
#disability#neurodivergence#possibly#ableism#none of this is meant to be 'ugh why can't he do these things'#half of them are things I struggled with even as an adult#there's a reason I say 'getting off the bus at the right stop' has prerequisites
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Hello and welcome to the Obi-Wan Kenobi Disability Exchange!
Find the AO3 collection here!
This is a disability-positive fic and art exchange created to bring more disabled Obi-Wan content into the wonderful world of fandom. To participate, you will need a registered account on AO3. If you don't have one, send me a message here and I can get you an invitation to register. If you want to participate as a pinch-hitter or beta-reader, please fill out this google form.
A few ground rules:
-If you have questions about the exchange itself, check the AO3 Gift Exchange FAQ first, and if they aren't answered there, send an ask. If you have questions about your specific fic or assignment please use DMs or email [email protected].
-As this is a disability-positive event, ableism will not be tolerated. Please be respectful and sensitive about the subject matter. Ableism will be allowed in the content of the fics provided it is not supported by the narrative and is treated appropriately (i.e. the character may face stigma or internalized ableism, but this is resolved in a positive way without the character being 'cured'). If you have concerns send a message here, and I will do my best to answer them.
-Disabilities include but are not limited to: chronic illness (e.g. epilepsy, diabetes, fibromyalgia), physical disability (e.g. mobility issues, blindness, deafness), and mental/intellectual disability (e.g. autism, adhd, schizophrenia). You could even do a Force-related or in-universe disability, although what this would look like is up to you.
-Obi-Wan must be disabled in some way, even if he is not the main character, but other characters are also welcome to have disabilities.
-The minimum word count for fanfics written for the exchange will be 500 words. Fanart must be completed.
Schedule
-Sign-ups begin on Sunday, April 9th and end on Sunday, April 23rd (4/9/23 - 4/23/23)
-Assignments are sent out Sunday, April 30th (4/30/23)
-Assignments are due Sunday, July 2nd (7/2/23)
-Pinch-hits are due Saturday, July 8th (7/8/23)
-Works are revealed Sunday, July 9th (7/9/23)
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Sent this to tumblr staff this morning
Good morning,
I have recently seen this post: https://www.tumblr.com/changes/726375529346973696/tuesday-august-22nd-2023?source=share going around about the new dashboard changes and I’ve looked at the updates since. There is a huge accessibility issue.
The removal of icons in the reblogs make the post impossible to read for visually impaired and blind members. The entire post just becomes a jumbled mess with no separation. This needs to be fixed. If you leave it like this you are being ableist and clearly no longer care about the people actively trying to use your site.
I’ve seen others sending similar emails and they get a crappy, clearly generated response about how there will be no return to the previous dashboard and everyone will just have to accept and report bugs or glitches. That does not address your decision to ignore people with disabilities calling you out.
I know I have no power to do anything and more than likely this message won’t change anything on your end. But I’m going to add another voice to the pile because you are not listening to the people who fund and use your hellsite and you’re just furthering ableist agendas.
Hatefully signed,
One of the many users who deserve to be treated fairly and accommodated ✌🏻
Help boost this via reposting here, emailing tumblr support, and filling out the feedback form on tumblr support blog with these complaints!
EDIT: also IT LIMITS ZOOM ABILITY WHICH FURTHER MAKES IT ABLEIST FUCK THIS GUYS
#boost#abelism#tumblr#changes#dashboard#new dashboard#dashboard update#blind#accessibility#signal boost
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being disabled is expensive. my medical certificate for my disability benefit needs renewing (yes, government, my permanent disability still exists and i am in fact still permanently disabled) so i had to make and pay for a drs appointment just for him to sign the form last week.
meanwhile they've just sent me ANOTHER form i need him to fill out. meaning i need to make and pay for ANOTHER appointment just for my dr to sign these forms too.
not to mention the cost to travel there, since i don't have a car, and the public transport options are very convoluted and time consuming with too much walking for me, so i gotta use uber there and back.
and of course they don't pay for these appointments or travel, despite them being the ones needing me to do it. oh no. "you just need to budget for them" they say. great. budget them from the poverty wages you pay me. cool thanks.
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This is so heavy that no spoon over the pot can stop it from spilling. These words are raw and authentic, coming straight from an advocate's mouth.
It's going on nine years since I opened up to myself about having my disability, and not many people out there in society will ever get me, and that is a damn shame. Did I choose the right path for myself, and how did I go into becoming an advocate? Gosh darn skippy, I sure did for myself.
Can you even imagine, from nine months old up until adulthood, having a child who has a disability and caring for them? That child knows deep in the back of their mind that there is something off about them while focusing on the positive side of things, or they want to believe that there isn't anything wrong with them while going to school each day. Seeing the same classmates and teacher. All the classmates around her have their own disabilities or conditions. Being in this classroom was a battleground, battling with the different subjects that I had trouble with. And here she would find herself at times wondering about these thoughts that kept popping up in her head: What are the other groups of students in the building like? Because at this time, she was only seeing and knowing about her classroom and only her classroom with other students who had disabilities and conditions. As each year progressed, a change started happening. In the second junior year, it was time to become included with the regular education students. Some of the regular education students were patient with students with disabilities, and you can tell which students were and which students were not. Those who happen to be patient—you saw them helping students with disabilities later on in the day. That made me proud to actually see and know that here I was being included while battling with my disability in mind. And it wasn't just me who was being included in other regular education classes. I see other people with disabilities in these classes too. Yet I still saw some places where it needed adjustments, and as the years progressed, not only was I dealing with these aspects of my own disability, but I was also seeing where there were cracks that needed to be fixed.
2015 came around, and a lot was going on back then. I was feeling down about being rejected from getting a job, so I turned to watching a lot of television to keep my mind off of what was going on in my head. As I shared, I wanted to be the host of my own talk show because this was my dream to be on television for a good reason. I took the idea one of my siblings shared with me, and I came up with Living with Disabilities.
Those who have heard this story multiple times will tell you that living with disabilities was my outlet for accepting my own disability. It took one piece of motivational feedback that drew me in and snapped me into place about my own disability.
I keep going because there are millions of other people like me out there who need their stories to be heard and for those in society to understand that we're people like everyone else. Every person who is disabled has a story, and through that story, some challenges have been faced and overcome, which is why the light shines brighter at the end.
To become a guest on the show, you simply fill out a form. You must be 18 years old or older. If you are not 18 years old or older, you must have consent from your parent or guardian. In the form, you must state that. Living with disabilities does not believe in exclusion. Once you fill out the form, you will then be sent a Zoom link. And if something ever comes up that you cannot make, simply reschedule, and I'll do the same.
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Little rant about anxiety aid my municipality offers and the stupid way I'm going about that bc aaaaaaaaaaaa
Ok I understand that this is entirely and completely my own fault. But. Due to my anxiety disorder I'm currently unable to work, and my municipality offers a fund to help students who cannot work for a longer periode of time due to reasons like mine (or like a physical disability etc). So I wanted to submit a request for that, and it said I needed to submit a formal reason I can't have a job. Cool, fine. So I asked both of my therapists and they said "oh no this practice doesn't do those things, maybe ask your gp?" so I asked my gp and my gp said "oh no we don't do those things, maybe ask your municipality?". And so at this point I'm already a little frustrated, why tell me I need an expert's opinion if none of the experts within this municipality offer those. Like. This is a trap, is it not? So my mum called the municipality (because I have severe phone anxiety) and they were like "idk sounds like a you problem" which is fine, that's a very good response and I'm happy they said that. I looked at the submission form again, and quite a few things I needed to submit were quite vague. So my parente convinced me, can't hurt to just try and submit this form with just my official dsm diagnosis as the formal proof. What's the worst that can happen? They email me back saying "nice try but no <3" and I'm back where I started no harm done. Now this is the part that is my own dumb stupid fault. Obviously they did not email me a rejection. They tried calling me and sent me an email saying I need to call them because they have a question for me and sent me a letter saying I need to either submit the formal proof or at april 4th my submission will be binned. I could not answer the call as I was in class, but I assume the message is the same as the letter (they didn't leave a voicemail). I read the letter and I thought, well, fine, I have tried everything I could to get that formal proof and no one is willing to give it to me, and now the municipality has reached out to me three separate ways so if they don't hear back from me, on april 4th it'll be like it never happened. But no. They call me every day. And I know I need to at least send them an email back like "ah sorry for wasting your time but I don't have formal proof because even though both my therapists and my gp agree I can't work they don't do formal proof, so you can bin the submission soz" but they're calling me all the time and I never pick up because I panic every time the phone rings so now I can definitely never pick up because they hate me and I can also not send that email because they hate me but I need to send that email because otherwise they will hate me. Man. Sometimes it feels like any accommodation for my anxiety the world offers is just like "oh you don't have a pen? here fill in this form (only pen allowed, if you use pencil or marker we will kill you) and then you'll get a pen at the end" babe how do I fill in the form then. without a pen.
#anxiety#launhiverse#this feels so young teenager#but im actually going a little insane#and my partner was like 'well maybe if you cant deal with things like these yet youre just not ready to move out'#which is such a sane response to this#but i also know that i need to move out in order to learn how to deal with things like these#and my therapist is the one who told me i need to move out to make some progress in the first place#which like theres some nuance to that im oversimplifying what he said but its basically that#like moving out will definitely definitely help me deal with some of the major things im struggling with right now#i need that#it just sucks that i need to be completely mentally healthy to be able to do things that are good for your mental health#and that not being mentally healthy yet means that i need to continue to do things that are bad for my mental health#like jesus christ#who designed that system#ok rant over
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Gonna try to act like I'm normal for a sec and talk about my experience getting accommodations for my hearing loss this semester.
I've had severe tinnitus since January after a mild COVID infection. The accompanying symptoms are unilateral hearing loss, episodes of intense vertigo, degradation of my balance, and of course constant tinnitus. This illness is a bit of a chicken or the egg scenario, and these symptoms can vary heavily day-to-day.
As someone who used a wheelchair and cane for approximately two years from 2016-2018 I was already familiar to the rigmarole of getting accommodations from an educational institution. I've also had experience with chronic pain so I was more prepared than some others for a sudden illness that impacts my daily life.
Once I realized that the first-line treatment wasn't successful I got to work immediately with my college's disability office. I am not the bitch who's gonna wait to get the stuff I need. I care too much about my education to suffer needlessly when I know this illness isn't going away for a while.
I cannot stress this enough! Do not wait for it to get worse, you do not need to deny yourself accommodations because it isn't "as bad as it could be" yet! Worst case scenario is that you get accommodations and didn't need them as long as you thought.
I visited the website and was very disappointed that the resources were confusing and limited. It seemed to me that there was an unstated assumption that the person needing the forms was a new student, so the things I needed were buried in new student paperwork that didn't apply to me. It also was not easy to find their policies on applications submitted outside of enrollment, and I was applying mid-semester. I called the line for the disability office, but the number was either outdated or they were closed at 1pm on a Wednesday. I was very frustrated initially. This might just be me but I'm of the opinion that important resources like this should be easy to find regardless of circumstance and that the people you need to reach for questions should be available during normal hours, but whatevs.
I ended up emailing the head of the disability office informing her of a lack of phone response, a small blurb about my situation, and the questions I was looking for answers to. Despite my issues with the website she called me within the hour of my email. If this lovely woman could call me immediately after I sent an email why couldn't I reach someone over the phone? I thought that was weird, but she was super helpful nonetheless so I can't be too annoyed. She explained the process and it was actually pretty simple, but you'd never know it from their webpage.
For me, my college required my primary care provider to fill out a short form, one page front and back. It had simple questions about what abilities were affected and how severely; plus a simple consent portion authorizing my school to receive that medical information. I recommend filling this out before the appointment with your provider, because it saves time. I filled out the legal portion but didn't do the assessment ahead of time. It worked out because during this appointment my hearing turned out to be worse than I thought, so hearing impairment was rated "severe" and not "moderate" as I had assumed. Afterwards it was easy to scan and email to the disability office. My school's email system is secure so I was not worried about sending such things over email, but use your best judgement.
I had thoughts that I was "jumping the gun" a little, but was able to push that aside. It's basically impossible to avoid self-doubt as someone with a disability or illness. The world is full of inspiration porn and there will always be people who judge you for not trying hard enough. The idea that accommodations should be a last resort after tireless effort to "overcome" your disability is total bullshit, but you didn't need me to tell you that.
There was also a small worry that it would be read as manipulative or arrogant to request accommodations so soon after my illness began. I also had to push this aside. Many abled people expect accommodations to be requested meekly, and look down on those who are confident in their own limitations. Often being too sure of yourself and your needs is taken as a sign you're taking advantage of the institution. Once again, total bullshit. You don't owe anyone a performance of shame and apprehension.
Back to the process. Once she received the paperwork everything was basically out of my hands. My professors were notified of the accommodations I requested and I was able to begin implementing them smoothly during class. Of course my accommodations are not as involved as others may be. I requested to record my lectures and sit in areas best suited to my hearing, these are generally very easy for professors to accommodate. My balance issues are another matter, but I'm not in classes that require lifting or bending so it hasn't come up.
I have to say my experience with college if much better than public school so far. I think it's a lot easier for k-12 to get away with shitty behavior than college professors, but that's just my personal experience. I got a lot of grief for my past disability in school than now. The day before I was pulled out of public school the school nurse told me she "didn't have time for this" when I nearly passed out! I think the semi-professional setting/attitude of college encourages a more "HR friendly" response to stuff like this, but I've heard enough horror stories to know that no institution is immune to ableism.
Overall I'm pretty happy with my experience so far, and I feel like my college is doing a pretty good job in my case. I'm just happy that my education doesn't seem like it's going to be another stressor. I've got enough on my plate dealing with appointments, PT, and tests so I really appreciate that my college was responsive and understanding.
#life update#disabled#disability#physical disability#college#student#student life#hard of hearing#hearing loss#hearing impaired#accomodation#meniere's disease#SSHL
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“Running is my vehicle for self-exploration.
I’ve run in some shape since I was a kid, nothing competitive really, just ranging from cross country, local kids running events and track at primary school. From Intermediate and High School, it was more directed towards fitness for football in the winters and tennis in the summers.
However, there was a period in those early teenage years at school where a particular teacher would make our class get sent out for a 3-5km block run for no particular reason. It was, in their eyes, a good excuse to get us focused and fit. In a sense it seemed to be a punishment for some reason. We were required to be back in a set time. If you were late or took too long, you had to either do it again or the next time extra kms would be added on. As a result, this took the fun out of running for me. It was no longer an enjoyable thing to do.
Fast forward to now and so much has changed.
I’ve always tried to keep a reasonable level of fitness and maintain some form of good health over the last decade, whether it was through playing football or tennis or going through spurts of attending a gym. Funnily enough running was not on this list at all. However, I wasn’t getting any younger and injuries from the past came back to haunt me. This resulted in having to face reality and end my competitive and social footballing and tennis days. I became lost. I needed to find something to fill the void that ticked the boxes in a fitness and social interaction sense.
My father-in-law is a runner and he started to get into trail running, something I had never heard of. When I started to research what it encompassed, I thought, ‘No way! Why would someone run up rugged, uneven tracks and basically put themselves through so much pain in running incredibly long races and events?’
Next thing I knew, my amazing wife Katie, signed up to run the Tarawera Ultramarathon 21km in 2020. She was on a journey and I drew inspiration from her taking on this challenge. She graciously let me join her on this journey and together we completed the 21km race at Tarawera. We had a blast. What I did not anticipate was that 10kms into that run I would be hooked! From that moment on the trails and ultramarathons are always calling my name. The rest is history.
A quote I like to use is “you are never too old to dream a new dream”, and with this I had a new dream to run a 50km Ultramarathon. To achieve this, I wanted to go back to where it all started – the Tarawera Ultramarathon. I enlisted the guidance of some experienced running coaches to give me structure and guidance as I had no clue how to train for a distance like this. Despite Covid I was able to achieve this goal in 2021.
Together, Katie and I completed another couple of events, supporting local through the Manawatu Striders. This was fun to do as a couple and at the same time keeping healthy and fit. As a whānau, with our son, we would go to our local parkrun and either walk or run. It was really inspiring to see and meet other runners and whānau who were there too. We made new social connections with other local runners and walkers.
I have been so fortunate and grateful with my most recent challenge and goal in completing the 60km Kepler Challenge. It was an amazing and unforgettable experience and a big tick on my adventure list.
With running, and the trail running community, the people are just fantastic. There are always opportunities to connect with likeminded, passionate people who challenge their mind and body to achieve extraordinary things. These people do things many only dare to dream and it is inspiring and just awesome.
I am someone who tries to give back in everything I do and running is no different. I am fortunate and grateful to now be part of the Achilles New Zealand Manawatū chapter. I have become a guide for our local people with disabilities and will be able to help them participate in events. The work here and the effort these athletes put in is truly inspiring and hugely rewarding.
For me, running, and the trails, is now my happy place. It’s ‘my time’ in escaping the daily grind and hustle and bustle of everyday life. I have nothing but gratitude for being with the whenua, the sights and smells that greet me, the fresh early morning run in the bush as the sun rises, the mist or fog untouched in the hills, the newly formed spiderwebs from the previous night lie in wait. Being present in the moment and emerging out of the trail feeling revitalised, reenergised, and clear-headed sets me up for what lies ahead, ultimately helping my mental wellbeing.
Another reason why I love to run is to challenge myself, set a goal, face all the highs and lows, and then smash it! Three years ago, I started out small with goals that I wanted to achieve and did achieve. This gave me the self-belief and confidence that over time has now given me strength to have bigger goals that give me the drive and determination to go for. Some of these goals are scary to me and that’s okay. I remind myself that I get to be alive, I get to be here, I get to do this, I get to feel my physical weakness and I get to overcome it with my mind. It’s my determination and mental fortitude that gets me through it and to the start line.
My son is one of my biggest motivators. For the majority of my races, he has always brought me home through the finishing shoot. One thing that drives me and pushes me not to quit in a race is the thought in my mind of him standing there waiting for me after being told, ‘Daddy’s nearly here – get ready’. These are priceless memories I’ll cherish forever. As he gets older, I want him to see the determination and drive I have for my training and running, doing the mahi to get the job done. I’ll look forward to the day when he wants to join me, and we run together and me trying to keep up with him.
Running has become a regular part of life for me. I run for fun, I run for the social connectivity, and I run for a purpose as well as for my mental and physical wellbeing. By pushing my limits in the endurance sport world, it challenges and drives me on how far and how high I can go.
For me, It’s always one foot in front of the other. And to go one more.”
Brad @b.rad_and_run
(Palmerston North)
Photo taken in Te Anau
–
Portraits of Runners + their stories
@RunnersNZ
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How To Unlock Cash App Account in 2023?
Everyone now uses digital platforms for both personal and professional purposes. Unlock Cash App Account. The introduction of the Cash App payment platform by Square Inc. proved successful.
One of the top digital payment tools for receiving and sending money, Cash App is mainly utilized in the United States and the United Kingdom. Because Square Inc. developed it, it is also known as the Square Cash App.
Customers who are having trouble accessing their accounts contact customer service. A small number of clients are also unable to make purchases using the Cash Card.
Why Has My Cash App Account Been Locked
The Cash App is one of the safest and most secure platforms for transferring to various accounts.
One program that enables users to add, sell, and buy bitcoin is this one. This serves as another justification for why Cash App is a solid and safe platform for all of your payments and keeps your private information protected.
Cash Application continuously monitors every activity in Cash App accounts and notifies the user when it notices anything out of the ordinary. To protect your data and money from hacking, Cash App deactivates the account. The account displays the Cash App login problem when you attempt to log in.
Another explanation can be that the user repeatedly enters the wrong password while attempting to get into their Cash App account. Or, if someone else attempts to get into your account but is unable because they keep using the wrong password. The Cash App disables the account.
How to unblock my cash app account?
The account you are trying to access has been locked for whatever reason. It can be reactivated by following the steps outlined below:
First sign in to your Cash App account.
You can access your profile on the home screen of the Cash App immediately.
On the profile page, click “Support,” which is the last option.
Regarding the locked Cash App account, contact support.
Cash App support will also send you a confirmation email along with the time to unlock the account.
Your account will be activated after the verification process has been completed successfully.
If you see that your Cash App account is still inactive, check whether your account has been canceled due to a violation.
How Do I Unblock My Cash App Card?
The following procedures will let you unlock your Cash App Card:
At the bottom, click “Support.”
From the menu bar, select “Unlock Account.”
Fill out the form with your email address and provide the Cash App unlock instructions related to your problem.
Within 24 hours, you’ll be notified that your account has been unlocked and active.
Is it possible to get my Cash App account back?
Check out the following instructions to access the previous Cash App account:
The Cash App must first be opened on your smartphone.
The “Profile” icon may be found on the home screen and then clicked.
Select “Sign Out” from the menu.
The former account’s email address or phone number must then be entered.
Then adhere to the screen’s directions.
How do you pay someone after blocking them on the Cash app?
To start, all you need to do is access your cash app’s transaction history.
You may then choose the person you wish to unblock after that.
There will now be an unblocking option.
The person you wish to unblock will be unblocked if you choose this option.
How Can I Open a Cash Application Account?
To sign up for a new Cash App account, do the following:
Install the Cash App first on your Android or iOS device.
Next, give your phone number or email address.
For verification, a security code will be sent to your email or phone number.
Enter your bank account information or card number to link your debit card with your Cash App account.
Last but not least, design your own $Cash tag to enable quick money transfers from friends and relatives to your Cash App account.
What are the steps to blocking someone on a Cash App?
Popularity is not a given. It also presents difficulties and obstacles. The Square Cash App payment app is the same way. The Square Cash App has a lot of positive aspects. However, this does not imply that Cash App operates without a hitch.
The worst thing I’ve ever despised is when anonymous Cash App users ask for money without my consent. Thankfully, this issue has a straightforward remedy. And the answer is to block the bothersome individual. Follow these instructions to block users on Cash App.
Enter the Cash App’s activities tab.
Search your activity to identify and choose the person you wish to block.
To block the user, simply use the “Block this person” button.
Tap the “Block” button once more to be sure you want to stop this individual from contacting you.
The cash app is one of the most popular and widely used platforms or apps for digital transactions (sending and receiving money) in the United Kingdom and the United States of America (USA).
Due to its invention by Square Inc., the CASH APP is sometimes referred to as the Square Cash App. Although this is fantastic software, some functions, such as face unlock and cash card purchases, may be challenging because other app platforms have later fixed difficulties.
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1,000 Follower Special
Members of the DreamSMP simping for you:
Dream, GeorgeNotFound, Sapnap, Technoblade, Phil, Wilbur, and Fundy
~No minor members obviously~
Dream:
When the both of you started dating he knew he couldn’t let anyone know about you.
The only two people who he trusted to know about you were George and Sapnap, solely because they knew who you were before the both of you dated.
Dream met you during Wilbur’s revolt against the SMP, you were a member of one of the villages he frequented.
Dream would constantly trade with your grandparents for ender pearls. They happened to sell the cheapest ones.
One day instead of them you were standing in their place.
The both of you clicked instantly, you laughed at his jokes, and were filled with a certain spark and fire, that had him hooked.
It was safe to say he was addicted.
He adored you, when the time came for him to cut off all the things he loved he couldn’t leave you behind.
Therefore you were the only person he’d allowed himself to have when he had to get rid of all personal attachments.
To him you were a goddess who could do no wrong, he’d kill for you.
If anyone hurt you all their lives would be gone in an instant.
He still remembered the first kiss the both of you shared, he had just gotten back from a rough battle.
Dream was practically bleeding out on your floor, you were screaming at him calling him an idiot.
You were fretting over him like a mother hen, he just felt so warm and cared for, he took off his mask to give you a crooked smile before falling into your arms.
He couldn’t help but think you looked gorgeous in your grey sweatpants, hair all messy, eyes glassy from sleep.
Another string of curses fell from your mouth as he leaned forward and captured his lips with yours.
He felt fireworks pop against his lips and you for sure tasted the blood staining in his teeth.
He then promptly passed out in your arms.
Dream woke up wrapped in your arms and on a cushy bed.
He knew you tended to his injuries he also knew when you woke up you’d beat his ass.
At the moment, he felt nurtured and tended to, Dream buried his face in your chest and smiled to himself.
You were his good girl.
GeorgeNotFound:
Waking up in the woods to a girl standing over him was certainly not how he envisioned the next stage of his life going.
She glared down at him and he hesitantly adjusted the glasses on his face, he greeted her meekly and she huffed.
She introduced herself to him and called him a pretty boy in such a condescending manner that it made his stomach wrap up in knots.
Oh no she was mean and hot.
You apparently lived very far from the SMP and had no idea how he got to where he was, maybe he slept walk or something.
You knelt beside him and grabbed his cheeks between your fingers eyeing him like you were trying to see into his soul.
He passed whatever test you had because you helped him to his feet and offered up your home to him.
Having no other options he agreed to go with you.
As months went by he realized you weren’t all that bad. You could cook, and let him sleep all he wanted.
(Mostly to try and get his energy back, but still)
He learned you knew a lot about nature and loved animals probably more than anyone else he knew.
You really were soft under that tough exterior and George loved that it was him who could make you like that.
As much as he enjoyed himself he couldn’t help but miss Sapnap and Dream.
Were they even looking for him? Dream had to care at least...right?
He felt guilty for being happy here, for being happy with you.
It took another month for George to recognize his feelings for you and as soon as he did Sapnap and Dream found him.
They both seemed to like you after he clarified that, no you didn’t kidnap him. You were a kind soul who opened your home up to him.
Dream and Sapnap looked at one other with a smirk and George’s face turned red.
The two of them left the house to let the both of you say goodbye to one another.
George wrapped you in a hug and pressed a soft kiss against your lips, much to his surprise you kissed him back.
It was hesitant and he could feel the nerves radiating off you.
He pulled away and rested his head on your forehead, he loved the flush on your face.
“Don’t be a stranger, pretty boy.”
“I won’t my savior.”
Sapnap:
At first, his flirting was just good fun, after all, he flirted with everyone.
What he wasn’t expecting was for you to flirt back just as hard and confident as he did.
It was Karl who pointed out that he’d get a faraway look in his eyes whenever he talked about you.
Sapnap didn’t get his point and Karl glared at his denseness.
“You like her Sappy Nappy.”
“What no I- Oh shit.”
That’s how Sapnap knew he was fucked, cause now all he could ever do was think about his crush on you.
Sapnap at first tried to avoid you and Karl had to knock some sense into him, saying that, that was not the way he would win you over.
Ironically, you pinned him to a tree and confronted the fire demon about his behavior.
Out of pure panic, he pressed his lips to yours, when you kissed back he was so flustered his hair caught on fire.
You had to help him put it out with water because he couldn’t calm down enough to stop the flames from shooting out of his head.
He was so flustered when you said you’d never let him live this down, but got over it the moment he felt your lips on his cheek (His hair almost went up in flames again).
From that moment on the both of you started dating.
You never minded his constant flirting with other people, he was glad too that was like some weird form of a love language to him.
When Dream betrayed George and him you were there to comfort him.
You assured him that you’d never leave his side no matter what happened.
You would kiss him all over his face and whisper sweet nothings to him whenever he looked too lost in thought.
He loved it. He loved being spoiled rotten.
When Karl and he moved to the Konoko Kingdom you were right by his side, you helped build your shared home from the ground up.
You were his little Firecracker.
Technoblade:
You were Phil’s little helper.
For as long as Technoblade knew his old friend you were by his side, you were quiet and tended mostly to the angel’s flock of crows.
At first, The Blade thought nothing of you just the girl who always followed Phil around.
Until he saw you stab through the chest of one of the Butcher’s army soldiers like they were butter.
The blood that splattered your face and the unbothered look shook him to his very core.
Oh no, you were hot.
Technoblade was shaken out of his stupor by you handing him one of the weapons he had lost in the fight.
You softly asked if he was alright to which he responded with a soft nod, his face was red and you raised an eyebrow.
He noticed a cut across your shoulder blade and reached out to touch the wound.
You flinched at the touch and cradled the wounded shoulder with your hand, with a soft grumble he offered to patch up your shoulder.
In the bathroom of his house he stitched up your shoulder, you let out of whines of pain.
The voices liked that way more than they should’ve and it made his face turn beat red.
You looked up with him through your long lashes and he melted, the voices assuring him that he was ‘down bad.’
Phil came home and caught the both of you staring into one another’s eyes and he gave Technoblade a knowing smirk.
The glare he sent his old friend was piercing.
As days rolled into months his feelings for you never faded, especially since the both of you had grown closer.
Eventually, Phil had forced Technoblade to at least ask you on a date, you dropped the birdseed at your feet and flushed up to the tips of your ears.
You agreed eagerly and Technoblade was relieved.
He had kissed you that night under the stars, it was a spur of the moment thing, the moonlight illuminated your best features.
The voices couldn’t help themselves and he just listened impulsively
Technoblade was relieved when you kissed him back, he’d protect you from all the horrors of government.
You were his Princess.
Philza:
He’s lived for decades, seen those he loved grow old and pass away.
That’s why he liked Technoblade, he lived as long as he had, had the same experiences as the angel of death.
Phil swore he’d never love again, then he met you.
You lived next to him when he was living in New L’manburg and thought you were very pretty as well as very friendly.
He didn’t know much about you only that:
You were fond of Ghostbur and he seemed to be fond of you.
It made Phil happy that someone else was looking after his dead son when he couldn’t.
Ghostbur had officially introduced the two of you a few weeks before Technoblade’s execution.
After that moment, you both were practically inseparable.
You bonded over your love for building and all things shiny, he broke his own rule.
He fell in love with you.
When he caught wind of what the butcher army was planning on doing to Technoblade he frantically sent a crow to his companion.
He was promptly placed under house arrest.
You snuck in through his window once everyone departed for Technoblade’s retirement home and helped Phil disable his ankle bracelet.
Phil pleaded for you to join him when he went to check up on Technoblade and you agreed wholeheartedly.
The both of you flew towards Techno’s but it was already too late, they had him.
You and Phil didn’t intervene.
After the execution, he introduced you to Technoblade and he seemed satisfied with you sticking around.
Anyone who helped Phil out was a friend of his
You both acted like an old married couple.
Technoblade was dumbstruck to find out the both of you hadn’t had a first kiss yet let alone started dating.
Phil hit him upside the head for that comment but it urged the old man forward to make his move on you.
He set up a lovely dinner date, a homecooked meal by the fire was just what the both of you needed.
You kissed him at the end of the night.
It was soft and sweet just like you were, his hands tangled in your hair as he pressed close to you.
You were his angel
Wilbur:
After Sally, he was sure he’d never love again.
That mantra lasted years, but after he won freedom for L’manburg, he had met you.
You were a crew member of Captain Puffy’s ship and he always did love watching the boats come and go from the ocean.
You had arrived in L’manburg alongside Puffy and he fell for you hard and fast.
He was a blushing, stuttering mess as you smirked over at him.
You were strong and tough and he wanted nothing more than for you to pin him against a wall.
After talking with Puffy you decided to stay in L’manburg and get a feel for the country, Wilbur was ecstatic.
He showed you around all proud of what he created, you interlocked your hands with his and he felt faint.
The two of you were an item not soon after.
Fundy approved, happy his father was finally moving on plus he loved your take no shit attitude.
They both loved when you sang the best.
You always had a wide assortment of sea shanties to share, and a plethora of stories to tell.
You had taught a few of them to Wilbur so he could play them on his guitar, another great bonding moment he remembered fondly.
When you sang it was the only time he ever considered you soft.
Before Wilbur announced the results of the election you had done the very thing he hoped you would do when he first met you.
Grab him by the hair, pin him against a wall and give him a heated kiss that made his knees weak.
“Go get them, Wilby.”
“Yes ma’am.”
Losing was not something either of you foresaw. You ran away with him and Tommy to join Pogtopia.
You were by his side in his slow descent into his eventual madness and stayed by his side up until his inevitable death.
As he slowly died in you and Phil’s arms you sung to him one final time.
He told you he loved you on his last breath.
You were his muse.
Fundy:
Being left at the altar was one of the most horrifying experiences Fundy had ever had the displeasure of going through.
You’d been there when Dream left with George, you had threatened to stab out the man’s eyes.
You stayed beside him the entire night, you refused to take no for an answer.
Fundy had never been more vulnerable than he was with you that night.
He was embarrassed at first but you shushed him and assured him it was alright.
Fundy flushed and felt guilty for doing so, he shouldn’t feel that way around you.
Your hand reached up to pet his ears and he began to purr loudly in your arms.
Eventually, Fundy realized he had feelings for you.
Much like Sapnap, he went to immediate Panic Mode.
He didn’t want for this to end up like Dream again, not that you were anything like him, but at the same time, he didn’t want to ruin your friendship.
However, much to his surprise it was you who confessed to him.
Fundy said he felt the same before you even finished your confession.
His tail was wagging rapidly and he had to physically hold it down to stop it from wagging
Which was something you laughed at but he felt embarrassed about, you had to assure him that you thought it was the cutest thing in the entire world.
He whined at that but you kissed all over his cheeks so he had to immediately forgive you.
Fundy introduced you to Wilbur who grilled you about your love for Fundy, he wanted to kill his dad.
You assured him that you loved Fundy, and would never want to hurt him.
Wilbur seemed satisfied with your response and wished both of you well.
After Wilbur left, Fundy kissed your lips softly, his tail once again wagging rapidly.
As he pulled away you leaned back in and kissed him back, your hand gently stroked his ears and he purred again.
He knew for sure he was going to marry you, and it wouldn’t end up like Dream and his wedding.
However, that was still a long way away.
For now, he just had to settle for you being his dream girl.
~~~
Hey guys! Thank you so much for 1,000 followers??? I am honored and shocked thank you all so much! Thank you to everyone who send me supportive messages and my amazing anon’s who member fail to cheer me up. Many more stories and projects are in the works but I wanted to do something special and different for the big 1,000. Thanks again and I hope you enjoy 😊
#dreamsmp x reader#dreamsmp x you#mcyt x reader#mcyt x you#minecraft fanfiction#minecraft x reader#minecraft x you#minecraft youtubers x reader#minecraft youtuber x you#dream x reader#dream x you#georgenotfound x reader#georgenotfound x y/n#wilbur soot x reader#technoblade x reader#technoblade x you#wilbur soot x you#dream x y/n#x reader#y/n#sapnap x you#sapnap x reader#fundy x y/n#fundy x reader#fundy x you#philza x reader#philza minecraft x you#philza x you#wilbur soot x y/n#mcyt x y/n
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You may have heard that Biden has opened up a Special Enrollment Period for people to apply for health insurance through the Affordable Care Act.
(I’m not going to comment on how people are suddenly actually calling it the ACA instead of “Obamacare” now that Biden is in office. But please know that I’ve noticed.)
Back in 2015, I worked for the ACA at one of their call centers. My job was to take inbound calls from consumers seeking to apply for health insurance or seeking more information about it.
Note: Don’t pay an agent to help you, if you can help it. The ACA call centers are free and they have provisions for accessibility.
So I’m gonna give you the down & dirty shitty information about the ACA.
[A Disclaimer: Some aspects of the program may have changed since I worked for the call center. If you currently work for the program, and you know of any information here that is outdated, please feel free to let me know! And if any of it is confusing, please don’t hesitate to contact their call center! I’ll put contact information at the very bottom of this post.]
It’s entirely based on your projected income for the year of your coverage and the size of your household -- that’s the number & ages of the people that you’ll be putting on your taxes at the end of the year.
If that number changes, report it as soon as possible. If you have another kid, get married, someone dies, etc, report it. This will give you your own Special Enrollment Period, and your eligibility results will likely change. This also applies to moving homes, any change in your income, job, etc. Not all of these will open up an SEP, but you still need to report it because it is going to affect your taxes. [You’ll get a form that you need to file at the end of the year with the rest of your tax information].
For the record: Cancellation of your policy due to non-payment will not open a Special Enrollment Period. You have to pay the first premium BEFORE the policy starts. Call the provider and do it as soon as possible. I can’t tell you how many people I had to explain this to, and that’s why it gets its own bullet point.
Depending on that number, you may qualify for an “premium tax credit.”
This is essentially putting your estimated tax return towards your health insurance for the year instead of getting it back when you file your taxes.
If you qualify for the PTC, you have the option to not use it. In this case, however much you qualify for will simply be sent to you as your usual tax refund, just like always.
If you qualify, and you use it, your monthly payment will be lowered. You can even choose how much of it to use. But you won’t get that money back when you file your taxes.
You may be asked to send in supporting documents for information you put in your application. If you fail to do this, your policy may be canceled and you may lose your PTC. If you make your own HC.gov account, you will be able to upload your documents into your account. If you call in to do it, you’ll have to actually mail the documents out.
Okay, so what’s the best and worst possible outcomes of using the Premium Tax Credit?
The Worst: If you make more than you expected when you filled out the application, you will owe money to the IRS. Yeah, you gotta pay that back.
The Best: If you make less than you expected, you may get some money back when you file taxes. Yay?
What if I don’t have any income? Or not enough to qualify for any help?
Most likely, your information will be automatically forwarded to your state Medicaid department to see if you qualify for that program.
Here’s the kicker, though.
Although all states were given the option to expand their Medicaid programs to include more people, not all of them chose to do so. There was no deadline on it, so states that haven’t yet expanded could do so at any time.
If you live in a state that expanded their Medicaid program, great! You’ll simply follow up with Medicaid, and go from there. (I have no insight into Medicaid and their requirements for qualifications, so more information on that will have to come from a different source.)
If you, like me, live in a state that has not expanded their Medicaid program, well...honestly, we’re just shit out of luck. Your eligibility results from Healthcare.gov will still tell you that they send your information to Medicaid, but ultimately, it’s useless. Unless you’re actively pregnant or disabled in a specific way, they’re going to deny you, and send you back to the ACA.
The ACA’s cheapest plans are “Catastrophic Plans.” These basically only cover you if you have a horrible car accident, for example. You’ll be paying hundreds of dollars a month to have shitty insurance that won’t cover you until you’re thousands of dollars in debt to a hospital. The deductibles -- which is the amount you have to pay in to the insurance plan before they’ll start cover things -- are disgustingly high.
I’ve seen the ACA make things easier for a lot of people. I really have. But I’ve also had to listen to people sob over the phone because they didn’t qualify for any assistance, even though they had a desperate need for the help and the coverage.
The ACA was a bad idea but not for the reasons a lot of conservatives think. It was a bad idea because it doesn’t help everyone.
If you can get a good plan through the ACA, great, good for you. But this is the time when you need to be advocating for Medicare For All, because there are too many of us -- so many in vulnerable positions who desperately need care and can’t get it because this program isn’t accessible for everyone. Start yelling at your representatives to push Medicare For All, because we need it.
Contact Information for the Affordable Care Act:
healthcare.gov | 1-800-318-2596 (TTY: 1-855-889-4325)
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Magician’s Assistant
No one asked for this, but I decided to continue this cause I love some good villain whump, and I love some good pet whump, so why not mix them together?
Summary: Villain puts on a show for Hero’s friends, and takes a risk that they regret.
I’m open to continuing this if anyone wants ^^ I know it’s a little weird though.
CW//Pet whump, forced to perform, power suppressors, collars, cones of shame, muzzles, bit gags, mitt cuffs, threatened punishment, failed escape, scopophobia, stage fright, dehumanization
“Now, I wouldn’t have to do this if you would behave. I hate doing this, you know. You’re going to make my friends think you’re some kind of wild animal.”
A low growl rumbled in Villain’s throat as their head was jerked around by Hero’s forceful hands. A trio of plastic buttons sounded with a rhythmic pop pop pop as they were undone, allowing the plastic cone attached to their collar to be slipped free and tossed to the ground.
The removal of the opaque blinders sent Villain for a loop, suddenly regaining access to their peripheral vision. Yet, they were given no chance to stumble, or even to ease their dizziness. The fingers gripping their chin like a vice would not allow such a thing.
Hero must have known that the muzzle was too small. The sheer amount of force it took to force the damned piece of metal over Villain’s jaw should have at least told them that. Even as the device was placed on their face, they could not help but whimper in discomfort, unyielding leather and metal already digging into their tender flesh. As their jaw was forced closed, they could feel the bit already within their mouth dig painfully into their gums. Their whimpers soon turned to muffled cries.
“Now, I’m only doing this because you forced my hand.” Their tormentor sighed. “You wear your mitts because you can’t stop picking. You wear your cone because you kept chewing on the mitts. But you can’t wear your cone on stage, and I can’t trust you not to chew. I swear, it’s like Whack-a-Mole, trying to keep up with your habits.”
The muzzle was pulled taut against their face as its straps were pulled back and fastened. Villain whined, the motion of the metal bars on their face forcing their teeth closed over their tongue, washing their taste buds with the bitter taste of blood.
“Now, if you’ll behave.” There was an exasperated overtone to Hero’s voice, as though they were the one leashed and collared like a dog. “The muzzle can come off after the show.”
Villain wanted to maul that expression straight off Hero’s face. Or, maybe just take the whole face off. Their limbs trembled with barely-contained rage, but they had no time to act on it.
“Be good. I’ll be back in a little bit.” They finished, handing off the leash they carried to a guard standing a few feet away. And, with that, they pushed away the heavy curtain and disappeared onto the stage.
A thousand screaming, primal things within Villain screeched at them, howled for them to do something, to fight back. The guard was terribly distracted, leash looped lazily around a wrist while their hands were occupied with a smartphone. It would be so, so easy, so simple to knock them over, knock them out, tear them to pieces and be free and be normal and-
And Villain lowered themself to the floor, laying down on their side.
No. Their wounds still stung from last time. They had learned better than to attempt to flee with so many eyes on them. They just had to sit. Sit and wait. Wait until they were finally left alone again.
The stage lights turned on, filtering through the backstage curtain with their sheer strength. They could hear Hero’s words clearly, but they knew the speech so well, it simply filtered from their ears.
How many times had they done this show, now? They couldn’t bring themself to care. It was better, not to think about what they had become.
A circus animal. A magician’s assistant.
They wanted to escape. Of course they did. They hated this, hated every second of it. They just wanted to go home. For so long they had desired revenge, but that desire had been extinguished alongside their willpower. Now, they just wanted to go home. To be able to use their hands. To be able to drink out of a cup rather than a bowl. To be able to eat something that couldn’t be described as brown slop.
But they couldn’t. All because of a stupid pair of mittens. Dejectedly, they looked down, where there hands were supposed to be. Where now sat only padded paws of black leather, secured around the wrist with taut straps. That was all it took to disable them.
They wanted to scream.
Villain couldn’t count how many times they’d tried to escape. How many guards they’d jumped, how many wounds inflicted.
And, every time, they were thwarted by something so simple. A doorknob. A window latch. A buckle. All because of a stupid pair of mittens.
That, and the power suppressor. They could feel the cold metal against the back of their neck, firmly secured by their collar.
Theoretically, it would be so easy to get out. If they could reach the buckles on their mitts with their mouth, they could get them off, easy. Then, it was just a matter of finding a window and making a run for it.
Simple in theory. Impossible in reality. That didn’t mean they couldn’t try, though. That they couldn’t act in at least a shadow of defiance.
Villain wasn’t broken yet. They would never break, never. No matter what. It may have been too dangerous to attempt to flee with so many heroes around, but once they were back to their cell? Their next attempt would begin. And this time, they’d be faster. Smarter. Better. And one day, they would get out.
The thought sent a long-lost burst of warmth through their chest. Just to make a point, they snarled as best as they could around the muzzle.
Maybe they would knock the guard over. Just for fun. To show Hero that they weren’t going to sit back here like a good little puppy, just because one of their escape attempts had been thwarted.
They didn’t get the chance.
“And now, for my final act, I have a very special guest.” The words boomed out through the speakers as the stage lights dimmed.
It was time for their act.
Still hardly paying attention, the guard leaned down, unclipping the leash from Villain’s collar. Freeing them.
They could run. The door to the rest of the facility was right there. They couldn’t help from turning their head towards it, red-hot adrenaline filling their veins and overriding the taste of iron in their mouth.
The guard’s boot struck their side with practiced swiftness.
“Go.” They grunted.
They had to be patient. Had to do the smart thing. Had to be a good dog, until the moment was right. Once they were back to their cell, then they could stop pretending to be ‘trained.’
But, for now...
They would just have to “behave.”
Villain raised themself to their hands and knees, then, slowly, to their feet. Their taut muscles made their gait terribly tense as they pushed through the curtain and moved onto the stage.
They wanted to go back they wanted to go back they wanted to go back.
Every time they came on stage, they forgot just how horrible it was. Or, perhaps, it simply got worse every time. The stage lights were hot enough to make them feel as though they were laying on asphalt in the dead middle of summer. And, even with the lights obscuring their forms, they swore they could still see every member of the audience. See their eyes, staring, transfixed.
As soon as Villain emerged from the wings, the laughter was overwhelming. It seemed to echo off every wall, resound from every speaker. They swore that their heart and stomach switched places.
Still, they kept moving, even as they shook worse than a nervous chihuahua. It was just an act. An act they knew how to perform, even as they wished more than anything to bleach the memory from their mind.
In the center of the stage, a sort of pyramid had been constructed of wooden chairs, built in such a way that, at the pyramid’s peak, a single chair was balanced. A platform.
Climbing the pyramid, they were unsure if the chairs shook because of their own unsteady placement or because of Villain’s trembling. An eternity of stage lights and staring eyes and chortling audience members later, they were at the top, balanced precariously atop the peak.
They hated the view that the position gave them. There must have been a hundred people out there, a hundred pairs of eyes, a hundred mouths pealing in laughter.
Villain swallowed down a mouthful of bile.
“I’m sure I don’t need to remind you all of who my assistant used to be.” Hero smiled.
More laughter.
“But now, they’re here to show you just what they can do, when they’re not trying to destroy our city!”
This time, the audience’s chortling nearly drowned out the subtle, mechanical click that sounded from the leather loop about Villain’s throat.
Their power flooded their chest, warmer than the strongest alcohol.
Was it even their power, anymore, when they were only allowed access to it when it pleased their captors? They tried not to think on that for too long.
With measured steps, Hero approached the pyramid of chairs on which their prisoner was precariously perched.
A moment of silence, and Villain was falling.
Hero’s boot struck a leg on one of the chairs forming the structure’s foundation, snapping it effortlessly. At once, the pyramid collapsed.
No matter how many times they performed the act, the way their heart leapt to their throat was always painfully, horribly real.
But it was all an act, and they were the tiger jumping through the hoop.
Villain’s powers tore from their body, swirling about their limbs, their back, their feet, until they were floating, bobbing up and down in the air.
From the audience, applause and amusement resounded in equal number.
“Go!” Hero’s shout cut through the air, a whip striking a performing lion.
Just an act. They could do this, they had done it so many times.
Still allotting plenty of strength to keep themself afloat, Villain sent their power out in every which direction-- a swarm of flies, searching and grabbing whatever they could find.
Gasps echoed from the audience members below as, from the tables before them, their very plates and forks were whisked away. Spiraling dishware formed a series of rings about the floating villain’s body, as though they were a nucleus, circled by energy in pure form.
The chairs were next, legs ripped from seats and seats torn from backs, until sticks of wood formed yet more rings. There were a dozen, now, and hundreds of objects making them up. Villain felt sweat dribble down their forehead, trying to keep track of it all.
But Hero was not yet satisfied. They could see it on their face.
The next batch of dishware came from the kitchens, accompanied by a flood of flying office supplies. New rings formed, staplers and cutlery and serving plates, all spiraling, twisting, until Villain could no longer be seen beneath the sphere they had formed around them.
“Give it up for this former villain!” Hero cried out, and the audience did not protest. Their clapping was interspersed by only a few spots of giggling.
When the applause had reached its crescendo, it was time for the finale. Sweat poured from their forehead in liters, now, dribbling down their sides, a thousand swirling things around them, concealing them from the-
The world beyond.
No one could see them. And with so many things under their control, what was one more?
Undoing the buckle on their muzzle was like spinning plates, while balancing on a ball, which was atop an elephant. While underwater. Every neuron in their mind was pulled in a separate direction, yet, a tiny ounce of residual willpower gave them the strength they needed.
The buckle was undone, the strap pulled free.
This was it. But not yet. No, not yet. They used their powers, holding the muzzle to their face, ensuring that it looked to not have been disturbed at all.
The applause was deafening.
Around them, the rings of dishware and wood scraps and staplers and staples began to grow-- a ball of plasma, writhing as a living thing, breathing, until it took up nearly the whole stage.
All at once, it broke. Each and every of the thousand pieces, the million atoms, stopped spinning. Plates swirled through the air, returning to their original tables without a single chip in their porcelain, cutlery neatly stacked beside them. Office supplies were returned with the same perfection, chairs twisted back into their proper forms, and once again stacked in their pyramidal form.
Villain gasped for breath as they lowered themself to the floor. The resounding applause did not help, not in the slightest. Instead, it made them feel as though garotte wires had been pulled taught about their lungs, their throat. Why did everything have to be so loud?
They hoped that their tears mixed convincingly with their sweat.
When the clapping quieted to nothing, Hero again took center stage.
“Thank you, everyone, for being here tonight!”
More applause. Didn’t their hands hurt?
“That’s all I have for you this time around. Dinner will be out in a moment, and I’ll be joining you all in a moment!”
The noise from the audience continued as Hero turned, moving off the stage. Like an obedient puppy dog, Villain kept on their heels. When, at last, they pushed through the backstage curtain, they felt about to collapse. After a few moments, the horrid cacophony finally, finally stopped.
They were done. They’d done it. They’d pleased Hero, they’d performed, and now, they would be alone, all the way up until the next show.
Hero stopped once the two were firmly backstage, away from the blaring stage lights and the chattering people outside, signalling for Villain to do the same.
“You did good.” A hand in their hair. They wanted to throw up. Or, better, bite Hero’s hand off. “See, if you just behaved like that all the time, you wouldn’t have to wear any of this crap.”
Hero drew their hand from their head.
“Damn are you sweaty. Takes a lot out of you, huh? You can have a rest, then.”
From the guard, they took the leather leash, reattaching it to the collar’s D-ring. And-
A click. The power suppressor.
Then, a clatter. Their muzzle striking the floor. They’d forgotten that they’d removed it.
Oh god oh god oh god.
Any cheer that Hero had been emanating was gone in an instant. This time, the hand in their hair was a restraint, yanking and forcing their head to the floor.
“I swear.” The fury in their tone was barely contained. “I’m done with this! I’m done. I can see that I can’t trust you.”
Villain could hear their heartbeat, banging against the concrete floor below.
“Clearly, you need that lock on the collar. The mitts, too. But that’s going to take some time.”
Some time. Some time to rest.
“If you can’t be trusted on your own, then you’re going to have to go back to your trainer.”
If Villain had any water still left within their body, in that instant, every drop turned to ice.
“They’ll supervise you until your new collar is ready. Come on, now. I can’t wait to explain this to them.”
#villain whumpee#pet whump#villain whump#hero villain whump#whump#whump community#whump aesthetic#magicians assistant
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The Missionary's Daughter
Ch. 1: "Meant to Live"
Need to catch up? Prologue: "It's Over"
Chapter Song Inspo: "Meant to Live" by Switchfoot
Series Song Inspo: "Changed by You" by Between the Trees
Pairings: Drake Walker x OC (Margot Hughes); Liam Rys x Riley Brooks
Series Warning: 🛑 for mature audiences only (🔞); series contains angst, language, NSFW🍋 material; trigger warning: heavy discussion/depiction of drug and alcohol abuse, suicide, religion, mental health; please be advised and exercise discretion
A/N: When I say that this took a village, it would be the understatement of the century! Huuuuuuuuge thank you to all of my amazing sweet writing sisters that encouraged me and helped me pull this together, but especially to @charlotteg234 for brainstorming and mapping this out with me, @kat-tia801 for doing the same, but then having to deal with me incessantly asking, "Does this sound right?" and @chemist-ana FOR GIFITNG ME MY FREAKING AMAZING MOODBOARD! It's SO beautiful, and it literally puts me in the mood to write about my Druggy Drake and Margot! Thank you so, so much, friend! Most of the characters and some of the plot belong to our friends at Pixelberry.
A palpable crackle ignites the sterile air of the staff locker room. To say she was ‘nervous’ is a painfully severe understatement to the jitters that spark from her fingertips. But, rather than dance chaotically like cut wires on pavement, she is lightning, mesmerizing, lighting up the sky with excitement and power.
***
Dressing for another Monday morning at her weekly volunteer job at the prestigious Cordonia Family OB/GYN, Margot Hughes swiftly shimmies a monogrammed ceil blue scrub top down her curves. Pulling her brilliant strands of autumn harvest into a high bun, she slips on her work clogs while nudging her locker closed with her knee.
Before leaving the changing area, she catches her visage in the mirror, the unflattering fluorescent lights casting more shadows onto her worried features. She can feel the rumble of her rapid heartbeat echoing in her ears; her chest constricts tightly as her breathing becomes shallow. Her eyes begin to sting with fear as the whites burn red, threatening with a glaze of tears.
Today is the day her entire life will change; everything she has ever wanted, everything that she has ever worked for will suddenly determine the course of her future in a single moment. Seeing the all-too-familiar terror in her eyes, Margot flutters her eyelids shut. Her fingers nervously trace along a simple chain around her neck until they finally grasp tightly to a dainty sterling silver charm: a cross.
“Take my anxieties, Lord,” she whispers with prayerful conviction, her sparkling blue eyes gracefully opening to look at her necklace. She exhales deeply. “Your will be done.” Margot stares at her reflection for a few more moments, focusing on her breathing to calm her restless heart. “You are strong, Margot. You've got this,” she affirms herself in a hushed tone, a bright smile breaking across her face. “This is your day--" suddenly overwhelmed with peace, a joyous smile paints across her face. Chuckling to herself, she glances upwards: “I'm counting on You.” Taking a deep cleansing breath, she eagerly exits the stillness of her thoughts, and joins the bustle of the morning's clinic appointments. Today is her day.
***
Halos of blurred auras bleach his vision as Drake cautiously opens one blood-shot eye. His tongue sticks to the roof of his roughly parched mouth as he massages his pained forehead. Clueless of what day it is--much less what he did last night--he is greeted with a sudden glorious sensation: a supple wet mouth on his hardened morning length.
His body relaxes back onto the dampened, disheveled sheets of his bed; he releases a pleasurable exhale as he blindly reaches for the head behind the lips. He strains to focus his view, but can only make out a foggy shape of a nude woman with long, tousled brunette waves.
It’s her. His love.
Drake smiles; delicately tangling his grip in her strands, he admires how even the afternoon sun catches her beauty perfectly. He quietly smacks his lips. He can still smell her on his stubble; he can still taste her on his tongue.
Had she told Liam? Were they celebrating that they could finally be together?
As she takes in the head of his girth, he arches his back, relaxing his body into her hungry touch. Closing his eyes, he offers a guttural groan deep in his chest as she swirls her tongue around his firm thickness.
“God, you’re incredible, Riley--”
---
Pulling out a pen, Margot reaches across the counter to grab a patient’s clipboard--that is until Iris, the front desk manager grips her long, manicured nails to the other side of the particle wood. “Miss Mary-Margaret,” she leans in conspiratorially, lowering her voice, “do we know anything yet?” Margot chuckles, shaking her head. “Child, you better come find me the moment you know!”
“Only if you promise to start calling me ‘Margot’” the young blonde jests, opening her client’s chart.
“How about I start calling you what we’ll all be calling you in just a few short years: ‘doctor’?” Rosy pink swirls splash across Margot’s face, warming her cheeks to the touch. She bows her head coyly at the mention of her dream becoming a reality. The thought that she will soon find out if a medical career is in her future makes the twenty-one-year-old’s heart leap with unbridled excitement.
For as long as she can remember, Margot has had a strong desire to serve and help other people. Much of that selfless attitude was instilled into her heart by her own parents. They were called to be Christian missionaries when Margot was only eight years old. After much planning, church fund-raising, and prayer, Roy and Mary Hughes left their comfortable home of Lafayette, Louisiana, and settled in the small Mediterranean country of Cordonia.
Many of their friends and family were shocked that the church would send them to such a beautiful area of the world. Typically missionaries humble themselves to serve the needy, the homeless, the lonely and the sick. They sacrifice the luxuries of home for the sake of loving humanity. They help people in war-torn countries, third-world countries, countries that don’t have electricity or running water. But, this country?
Cordonia itself is a lavish nation, rich in heritage and traditions. And funds. Thanks to the ideal weather conditions, the fruitful soil produces bountiful harvests and exquisite supplies for fine textiles that remain in high demand throughout the world. The Cordonian government, a monarchy, discovered a new opportunity to expand their wealth in the late 19th century: costly tariffs to international investors. Within the first ten years of increasing the taxes on exports, the national treasury was not only in the black, but their funds had exponentially increased every year. Farms were flourishing as the working class became larger, stronger.
But, the treasury began to dwindle quickly due to the extravagant demands of the royals. For the first time in the country's history, commoners were wealthier than some of the nobility. Disdain from the upper class quickly ensued until finally, in the early 20th century under the rule of William I, a new tax law was implemented to all of Cordonia: anyone involved with international exchange would have to pay into the treasury to handle such business.
Unfortunately, there were no limitations to this new tax law, and many farms floundered, property ownership being seized by the government. Families were uprooted; jobs were lost, and worse, assets were sold for even more money, filling the pockets of the greedy leaders. The people that once had a plethora of goods at their fingertips were now starving and unsheltered. And vengeful. The Cordonians were outraged by the gouging, many of them forming violent riots, banding together with outside influencers in hopes of overthrowing the government.
On the cusp of a civil war, King William I decided to rezone the country, providing a place for the displaced working class to claim safety and sanctuary, a place that would offer shelter, education, and more affordable options for goods. To appease the people even more, he named the project ‘the Core,’ paying homage to their greatest export, the Cordonian Ruby. It was also a way for him to forever express his gratitude for such a fruitful nation: they were the core reason the nation was thriving so richly.
Like many government-assisted programs, it didn’t take long for the cracks to show in the infrastructure. And with funding cuts over the years, the Core began to crumble, striking a sharp contrast from the rest of Cordonia. The Core, now often referred to as ‘the slums’, have become a breeding ground for crime, drugs, and prostitution. It is the blemish of Cordonia, its existence often not acknowledged amongst the elite.
But, according to the Hughes, ‘God saw the need’. They were sent to serve in the slums of Cordonia, starting up several free programs, including a nightly soup kitchen, afterschool programs to keep children out of trouble, and trade classes to help adults out of poverty. The people accepted the help and adapted quickly to the missionaries; but even more importantly, they embraced these Americans as their own, many of them forming important and lasting relationships with the Hughes.
But, still there was something missing, something that burdened the missionary’s oldest daughter: healthcare. Having good health and access to a doctor is still treated as a privilege in Cordonia, and time and time again, the curable were disabled or buried. A change needed to take place. And Margot, although unsure of how, knew she would devote her life in making it happen for the Cordonian people.
As she makes a few notes on her clipboard, an olive-complected arm stealthily reaches around Margot, gracefully grazing her sun-kissed skin before gently placing a cup of piping hot black coffee in front of her. Staring at the hand, she instantly knows who it is. And she titters, playfully rolling her eyes. “Tadd! Another coffee?” She grabs the coffee, twirling on the ball of her foot to face the clinic’s young ultrasound technician. "My tab must be over a hundred euros by now!"
"Oh, don't you worry about that," he chuckles, rocking on his feet. “Plus, I figured with your new gig at Bríki--” he jovially shrugs his shoulders.
“You figured what?” Margot playfully punches his shoulder. “That I could sneak you free coffee?” She gives a mischievous smile, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t think Mr. Pavlis would appreciate me offering free drinks, especially since I haven’t even started yet--”
“That’s right!” Tadd eyes widen. “Today’s the day--!”
“As if I didn’t already have enough to be nervous about today,” Margot’s voice becomes shaky, as she clenches her teeth in a forced smile.
“Hey,” Tadd’s voice turns into an endearing whisper. He shifts his head until his piercing jade eyes meet Margot’s baby blues. “You have nothing to worry about. We both know you did well on that American doctor test--"
"The MCAT," Margot stifles a laugh, rolling her eyes into an appreciative grin.
"Whatever," a crooked smile grows across Tadd's handsome features. "And as far as the coffee shop, you're a fast learner. And a hard worker. Plus, if they see what we all see in you--" he sighs, his gaze never breaking free from hers, "-- they're going to love you."
Margot looks down at her feet, hugging her clipboard tightly to her chest. Feeling her palms begin to sweat, she coyly looks back up at her dear friend. "Thanks, Tadd."
After a few silent moments of staring at each other, Tadd clears his throat. "So, um--" he starts, "have you heard anything yet? About the test?" Tadd changes the subject. Margot shakes her head as she takes a pull from her coffee. "Well, when you do, um, maybe we could, I mean, I thought we could--"
Suddenly an intercom buzzes overhead. "Thaddeus to exam room four. Thaddeus to exam room four."
Tadd furrows his eyebrows, looking to the ceiling before resting a kind half-smile back on Margot. "Duty calls," he nervously sighs as he bounds down the hallway. Halfway down the corridor, he spins around to face Margot. "Hey, um, come find me! Before you leave at noon!" He finger-guns the air before returning to his pursuit.
Margot awkwardly finger-guns him back before smacking her forehead with the palm of her hand. "Seriously, Margot?" she mutters to herself, turning her attention back to the central desk of the clinic; however, she realizes quickly that the attention is all on her.
"When are you two going to make it official, Miss Mary-Margaret?" Iris chokes in the midst of her belly laughs, nodding with other scrub-adorned coworkers.
Biting her bottom lip feeling her heart flutter, Margot straightens out her demeanor, becoming stoic. "I--I don't know what you're talking about--"
"Margot, isn't it obvious?" Chimes in a jolly intake nurse. "That boy loves you--!"
"Who? Tadd?" Margot feigns innocence. She fixes her attention to the chart as she scribbles down more notes. "It's not like that--I mean, we're not, um--" she sighs. "We're just friends--" An instant roar of laughter abrupts from the reception desk, making it impossible for Margot to hide her toothy-smile paired with her scrunched up nose.
"You say that now, baby girl--"
"That's right," chimes in another giggling co-worker, "friends for now!"
An older plump nurse places a tender hand on Margot’s hand, a knowing smile spreading across her face. "Some of the best relationships come from friendships, moró. Give it time. Let the love grow," she winks at Margot.
Margot fidgets with her pen, delicately licking her bottom lip. She then tries to form words with her mouth, but no sound is heard. Her pink cheeks reveal she is flustered. She quickly closes up the chart, pushing loose hairs behind her ear. "Have a good day, ladies."
Hearing the squeals of her coworkers diminishing behind her, Margot quickly escapes into an empty exam room. Closing the door behind her, she leans against it, looking up at the textured ceiling tiles. She can feel the butterflies in her stomach bouncing through to her heart as her legs wiggle with weakness like gelatin.
The idea of 'falling in love' excites Margot, an idea she has dreamed about ever since she saw Baby meet Johnny. But, so far in her young life, she has never experienced it first hand, let alone a romantic hand- hold. Was this love? All she knew for sure was today was not the day to figure it out.
***
As soon as Riley’s name escapes his breathless moans of ecstasy, a searing sharp pain instantly ignites around his hardened girth. And Drake sees red.
"Fuck!" He lets out a guttural roar until no sound comes out of his mouth. He gnashes his teeth, trying to breathe through the agony, but only froths at the corners of his lips. The veins in his neck and his forehead protrude violently as streams of tears roll down his face. Petrified to move, his face turns a deep ruddy color. Before turning violet.
A sudden sensation of relief washes over him as the stabbing sensation fades to throbbing. Drake nervously looks down at his softening cock, relieved to see his member in one piece. "Goddamnit, Brooks," he pants furiously, "you fucking bit me--"
The brunette quickly tosses her curls out of her eyesight right before her fist meets Drake's jaw. "Oh, shit!" The cracking of the joints in his face echoes around the room. Drake starts to gently massage his chin. "You're not Riley--"
She climbs off of his body, standing her naked body in front of him. "No shit, Sherlock!" She slinks her short black spaghetti-strap dress over her dangerous curves before hastily grabbing her clear platform heels and racing out the door. "Fuck you, Drake Walker!"
***
A heartless, cocky laugh pours over the phone speaker. "Shit, Walker. Just--" the baritone voice trails back into a fit of laughter.
"It's not funny, Leo--" Drake warns, accidentally shifting his weight in bed, stirring a soreness to his recent injuries. "Ow!” he sucks air quickly between his gritted teeth, “fuck!" he whimpers to himself, adjusting the cold packs on his genitals.
"But you actually called her a different name, bro. A different name! With her mouth on your salami, your pocket rocket, on your--on your anaconda--" Leo's words fade back into cackles.
"As if you remember every goddamn hook-up’s name--"
"Dude," Leo interrupts, "if she's going to go all hungry, hungry hippo mid-blowie, I'm going to remember her name."
Drake scoffs. "Bullshit--"
"What? I'm serious, bro" Leo's voice becomes sincere. "All of these bitches we meet are looking for one thing--" he pauses dramatically for his wounded friend to finish his sentence; but the silence proves Drake is clueless as to where Leo was going with this. "A connection, Walker!" Leo's voice drips with conviction. "These women don't want to feel like they're disposable, even though--" he chuckles to himself, “let’s be honest: we’re doing them a favor--”
"--’A connection’, Leo" Drake interrupts, urging the conversation back on track.
"Right! ‘A connection," reaffirms Leo, circling back to his point. "Now, okay,” he knowingly titters, “I can’t remember all of these names--”
“Ha! See?” Drake barks.
“--Which is why--” Leo enunciates over Drake, “I use a single pet name. ‘Girl’.”
"'Girl'? That’s your trick? You call them 'girl'?" Drake raises an eyebrow in disbelief.
“Hear me out,” Leo continues. “If you call them something like ‘baby’ or ‘sweetie’, it can be seen as patronizing, that you’re clearly looking to smooth-talk your way into their pants--” Drake rolls his eyes, moving the phone to his other ear “--but now, calling them ‘girl’, I’m showing I want to be a friend, that I just simply want to connect. And then when you’re having your way with her, call her whatever the fuck you want as long as you finish the name with ‘girl’. Good girl. Dirty girl. Naughty girl. Sweet girl. Or in your case, hungry girl--”
Drake clears his throat, stifling a laugh. “--That is the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard--”
“Hey!” Leo interjects. “Who is wearing a bag of frozen peas on his one-eyed trouser snake?”
“Touché,” Drake sighs. “So, where are you right now?”
“With Jason up at his shop.”
“Who?” Drake lets out yawn, looking at his bedside alarm clock.
“Shit, Walker, you really were fucked up last night," Leo sighs. "Jason. You met him last night.” Leo’s voice lowers into a whisper. “He helped you get fucked up last night.”
“Oh! Right, right,” Drake rubs his head, “that was--wow, that shit was--”
“Good, right?” Leo finishes. “Hey, come join us at his shop. We’ve got coffee, and he’s got some new, um, product he’d love to show you--”
“Oh, Leo, I don’t know--” Drake removes the melting bag of vegetables from his lap. Gently lifting up on the waistband of his boxers, carefully inspecting his bruised parts.
“Does Liam have you working today?”
“No, no, it’s not that--” Drake hesitates.
“Oh!” Leo knowingly exclaims. “Does Riley have you working today?” He begins to chuckle. “You might need to let her know that you’re currently indisposed for --”
“Leo--” Drake warns.
“Then what's the hold up?"
Drake glances over at the mirror affixed to his antique dresser, but he doesn't recognize his own reflection. There's an emptiness in eyes, an inexplicable turmoil overcoming the man he once was. How did everything get so complicated? How did he get to such a place that it's better to be absent in life than to live it?
She was just a friend--at least that's what he convinced himself when Riley Brooks first caught his eye. Beautiful. Extremely witty with a fight he had never seen before. When they first kissed, he swore it was a mistake. Hormones. It had been so long since he had touched the delicate petals of a woman's lips.
But, this wasn't just any woman. It was her. And he soon would find himself wrapped up in her bedsheets, wrapped around her finger, wrapped in an awful web of lies.
And, all of his transgressions were against him, his very best friend, the man he regards as closer than a brother, his closest ally and confidant. Normally, Drake would turn to Liam in a heartbeat with any troubles, but this? How could he? How could he talk to Liam about his own devastation when the truth would devastate Liam?
It's been four days since that fateful night of Liam's coronation, four days since the love of Drake's life walked away from him, forcing his hand into harboring secrets from the crowned prince. It's been four days since Drake heard his own voice in his head, four days since he's been sober enough to even think. Even though he deemed the temporary escape necessary, the sudden twinge of discomfort in his groin makes him realize that taking another hit right now is the absolute last thing he needs.
"I think I better stay put," Drake answers, combing his fingers through his disheveled tresses.
"Suit yourself," Leo jovially retorts. "If you need any oxy for your boo-boo, hit me up--Oh, and Drake?"
“Hrmmm?”
"Her name is Whitney."
"What?"
"Jaws? You know, the bitch who chewed on your Moby Dick?" Drake sighs heavily, regretting that he ever told Leo what had happened. "Her name is Whitney."
Drake furrows his eyebrows. "Now, how do you remember her name--?"
"Oh, bro, you don't forget WAP Whitney--oh shit, you probably haven't gotten a good look at your sheets this morning, have you?"
With a grunt, Drake ends the call. “Fuck me,” he mutters under his breath. He carefully gets up, waddling to grab his clothes before heading to the bathroom to get ready for the day.
In the middle of splashing his face with cold, soapy water, Drake's phone rings. Grabbing a hand towel he carefully saunters back to his room, answering the call without hesitation. "Just let it go, Leo--”
"Drake?"
An icy chill shoots down Drake’s spine, freezing him in his steps. He knows that melodic voice anywhere, a voice that reminds him of early morning sunrises and late night silver moonlit paths. “H-hey, Riley,” he stutters, caught off guard. A brief awkward stillness falls over the conversation. “How are you--?”
“I miss you, Drake,” she interrupts.
Drake’s vision suddenly begins to spin as the air in the room becomes stagnant. Stiffening his bottom lip in anger, his breathing quickens as he reaches out carefully to brace himself against the wall.
“Drake?”
“I’m here,” he chokes out. “What do you want, Brooks?” He can hear the tears in her voice, but he wills himself not to care, he wills himself to not even ask.
“Drake, I think I made a mistake--”
“No,” Drake barks out, “no, you can’t do this to me--”
“Drake, please,” Riley sobs, “I’m on my way to the doctor--”
“The doctor?” Drake’s tone suddenly changes. “Are you okay? Is everything with--um, you know--” he slaps his forehead with the palm of his hand, “--okay?��
“Yes--” she sniffles, “--no. I just, I can’t do this alone, Drake. I can’t do this--”
“Riley--” he roughly says her name to grab her attention, “you made your decision: you chose Liam. You want to raise our baby--my baby with him--”
“Don’t you think I want to have this baby with you? That’s all I can even think about Drake,” she takes a moment to calm down her shaking voice. “I love you, Drake. I want a life with you. I want you to be there when this baby is born, when this baby needs his or her father--when this baby needs you--”
“Riley--” Drake exhales with frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose, “--but Liam--”
“I know, Drake. I know--” Riley takes a deep breath, “Can we just talk? In person? Just so we can figure this out? I can come over there--”
“Brooks, I--” Drake stumbles over his words as he runs his fingers over his coarse, overgrown stubble. Of course, he wants her to come over. And to stay. But, has anything changed? Liam just proposed, and she made it clear what her intentions were. But, still, it’s possible she had a change of heart, and this was a second chance he may never get again. He sighs heavily. “Sure. Okay."
After finishing his impromptu conversation with Riley, Drake realizes he needs to make another phone call. He scrolls through his call history, and clicks the green send button.
"Did you change your mind, Evander Holyfield?"
"Funny, Leo," Drake sarcastically responds. "So, yeah, um, what's the address to the shop?"
***
“Does that--does that say what I think it says?” Margot nervously stammers. "I think I saw my score--oh gosh!"
“Here. Let me look--”
Margot quickly covers the computer screen with her hands, "No, Mrs. Iris!” Margot squeals. “I’m not ready--I’m not ready for this!”
“Child, you have been ready for this for months. Now, if you don’t get your hands out of the way--"
"What's with all the commotion?" A few technicians and nurses pile into the room, each giving an endearing rub to Margot’s back. Everyone begins craning their necks to see the computer, covered by Margot's arms. "Is it time? Have they posted the scores?"
"They sure have!" answers Iris before turning to Margot. She tucks several blonde wisps behind Margot’s ear before putting her finger under her chin. "C'mon, baby," she smiles encouragingly, "it's more fun celebrating than worrying."
"I'm--" Margot takes a deep breath, biting back her tears, "--I'm so scared--"
"--and the Lord knew you would be, baby." Iris wrinkles her nose at Margot, her voice becoming stronger. "That's why He called you to be courageous. C'mon."
Margot bites her lip, slowly nodding her head. Feeling the storm brew in her eyes as the weight of the world sits on her chest, she carefully peels back her hands. Her eyes scale the black and white on the screen, but nothing seems to make sense. A burst of silence overwhelms her hearing, time standing perfectly still. Her only company is the beating of her heart.
Take my anxieties...
You have nothing to worry about…
Your will be done…
Be courageous...
Like suddenly breaking through the surface for air, an abrupt roar of cheers fill the room, shaking Margot from her trance. "Our baby girl got a 519!" screams a tearful Iris, pulling Margot from her seat and into a tight embrace. Other coworkers join in, creating a giant group hug.
Margot remains speechless, shocked by her score. She always knew she was an excellent student, studying hard all through school and excelling in her classes. When it came to the MCAT, she was confident she would score better than average, a score of 500. But, to even be noticed by top medical schools, she needed to score in the top 5%, a score 517 or greater.
News swept like wildfire through the clinic, and shortly thereafter, Tadd and some other technicians filed into the breakroom with a decorative chocolate cake and punch in tow. "I knew you could do it!" Tadd cheers victoriously, offering a chaste hug to Margot. "Dr. Hughes," he swipes his hand in the air as if to paint an imaginary portrait. "It has a nice ring to it."
"I still don't understand why you put yourself through all of that," mentions an older phlebotomist. "Cordonia has a medical school right down the road--"
"Because Margot wants to go to one of the best medical schools in the world," interrupts a deeply demanding, yet sincere voice. “To Harvard. Like me.”
"Dr. Ramirez," Margot smiles brightly, jumping up to greet her mentor with a hug.
"That is, you are still looking at my alma mater for medical school--"
"Yes ma'am!" Margot's eyes light up with the thought that her dream of going to Harvard Medical School is becoming her reality. "It would be such an honor to go there, let alone to follow in your footsteps."
Dr. Ramirez pulls Margot in for another tight hug. "My word, Mary-Margaret, 519?" she presses her cheek to Margot's, "I am so proud of you."
"Thank you, Dr. Ramirez," Margot warmly responds, "thank you for taking a chance on me and helping me so much with my studies and research--"
"You know I did that for selfish reasons, right?" The practitioner stifles a smile while Margot squints her eyes with suspicion. "Cordonia needs more female physicians, and more importantly, physicians that will make a difference in its healthcare," she grips tightly to Margot’s hand, "for everyone. I believe you will lead this country in a health care reformation."
"I don't know what to say," Margot clears her throat as she fights back the tears. "I hope I make you proud--"
"You already do." Dr. Ramirez gently touches Margot's cheek lovingly before turning to exit the room.
"Oh!" Margot quickly chases after the obstetrician, “can I talk to you? Privately?” With a nod, Dr. Ramirez leads Margot into a quiet corner. “I know my work-study ends in two weeks--”
“I know. Don’t remind me, Margot--”
“Well, I was wondering,” Margot chews on the side of her mouth, fidgeting with her fingers, “if by any chance I could possibly stay on?”
“Oh, Margot, I wish I could. Unfortunately with budget cuts--”
Margot shakes her head. “No, no, Dr. Ramirez, I meant if I could stay on, shadowing my usual Monday and Thursday mornings, I mean, if that’s alright. Learn more? Keep up my skills?”
“You want to continue volunteering with us?” The doctor gives an inquisitive look. “Don’t you want to get a job to earn money before you move to the states next year?”
“I already got that covered,” Margot assuredly answers. “I just got a job at Bríki, the coffee shop past the square--”
“Oh my gosh,” Dr. Ramirez’s eyes light up. “Does Aleksi still own that place?”
“Mr. Pavlis? Yes! Him and his son run it together, I believe--”
“They have the best coffee,” she energetically smiles, “now I have another reason to stop by.” She kindly places her hand on Margot’s shoulder. “Of course, you can stay on as a volunteer. Whenever you want, however much you want. It is a pleasure to have you around.” With a squeeze of her arm, Dr. Ramirez turns to go to her next appointment, but stops halfway down the hall. “Oh, Margot? My nurse stepped away to make an important phone call. Do you mind escorting my next patient to the exam room?”
Margot dutifully nods with a grin. She twirls around, bounding for the front desk to grab the chart of Dr. Ramirez’s next patient, a new patient. After making a few small notes, Margot opens the door to call her back.
“Brooks? Riley Brooks?”
*****
Tags: (this is my original tag list for this series; if you wanted to be added or removed, please let me know!) @alyssalauren @ao719 @bbrandy2002 @burnsoslow @charlotteg234 @chemist-ana @choiceskatie @forallthatitsworth @gkittylove99 @glaimtruelovealways @kat-tia801 @khoicesbyk @lovingchoices14 @lovelyladyk88 @lucy-268 @mainstreetreader @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @neotericthemis @nestledonthaveone @sfb123 @shannonwrote @shewillreadyou @sweatyrysconnoisseur @taniasethi @tessa-liam @texaskitten30 @thefrenchiemama @thegreentwin @twinkleallnight @yourmajesty09
#the royal romance#the royal romance au#the missionary’s daughter#drake walker x oc#choices fanfiction#trr fanfiction#liam x riley
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What if the 'new sidekick' is kidnaped by another rouge and they have to be rescued by jon and eddie (separate). Would it lead to a more intimate relationships that they have to hide form batman?
Scarecrow saving the new sidekick hcs:
he was kind of teaming up with Two-Face. i say kind of, because he wasn't really a part of the whole "grand scheme", but he was in charge of preparing a highly corosive, lethally toxic acid that Harv wanted to use. only to find you hanging upside down over the spot where the chemicals were supposed to be poured
you two had a thing going on for a while. not a thing thing, just... you helped him out sometimes. and talked with him a lot. you were always so curious about his research. and you anonymously sent him books and short letters whenever he was in Arkham. of course, over the time he has obliviously fallen head over heels for you, but none of you knew that (he hoped), and as he thought back to all that kindness you've shown him, all those times you found him on your patrols after he just escaped from Arkham and let him live in peace a little, he decided that maybe, for once, he could help you out
once he makes sure the room you two are in is secure and everyone is out of earshot, he quietly scolds you for letting yourself get caught like that. you can beat your fears but you can't handle a few thugs? isn't that what Batman trained you to do? but alas, everybody makes mistakes sometimes. he knows his leg slipped more than once and it cost him a lot, so he has no right to judge
he will grumble about risking his reputation as well as his head for even thinking about helping you, and yet he unties your restraints and lets pull yourself up and away from the pool he was about to fill with chemicals. he will absolutely deny the way his heart skipped a beat when you offered your thanks with the usual "Doctor Crane" thrown at the end. nor will he admit to the way it sped up when he rolled his eyes, turning away from you and muttering a reluctant "just stick to Jonathan". at this point, you two were way past official titles anyways
he pours out the acid anyways, already having a plan in his head how he's going to tell everyone it needs to sit for a little while before the fumes wear off and people can go in and then, after discovering your disappearance, offer the explanation that the heat of the acid could've had some effect on your unprofessional restraints and allowed you to get free. while he's busy with his thoughts, he almost doesn't notice when you quickly jump up to him, planting a kiss on his cheek with a quick "Bat's gonna be here soon, be safe, Jon" before fleeing
this is the only thing he thinks about for days
Riddler saving the new sidekick hcs:
Ed knew Oswald could be brutal and straight out cruel, that was just common knowledge among people. he didn't think sidekick kidnappings were his type, though. and apparently, they were, as he came to realise once he walked in on you tied to a chair-trap over Oz's shark tank that he designed and build from scratch. he expected anyone. some random civillain, Jim Gordon, Bruce Wayne - but not you
suddenly, he's reminded of all the times he put you into a similar position, but not one where there was a man-eating shark involved. he's reminded of your cheerful chatter and your pearly laugh and the way you were almost eager to attempt his courses, riddle-rooms and whatnot. he's reminded of the time you once let him go after a particularly hard loss against the Bat after he's spat out what happens at the Asylum in your face. his stomach sinks but a thought arises - he's got to get you out of this. maybe you're smart enough to beat this trap, but he's not willing to take the risk
he has to play it cool, and so he goes with the whole "well, well, well, who do we have here" thing, mocking you relentlessly to keep up appearances, but the second he gets you two alone under the excuse of having to check if everything's perfect, he's immediately hissing through his teeth about how stupid you were to get yourself kidnapped like that and that now he has to risk his acquiantace with Oswald - who was sponsoring most of his heists - as well as his reputation because he has to get you out
"was the whole speech really necessary? that stung a little" you complained at his hurtful words from earlier, but he just rolled his eyes, offering you a simple "truth hurts" as he disabled the trap and untied you. the urge to test you and make you beat it anyway was strong, but he didn't have the time nor the stomach to see you threading between life and death with a very hungry shark as an opponent. he didn't expect you to chuckle, nor to shoot him a quick, breathy "bastard" as you got out of the restraints with a smirk
now, he needs to think of an excuse for your disappearance that would sound truthful enough to Oswald, but how can he do that when you're laughing so quietly and smirking at him like you two weren't in a constantly life-endangering situation, and then suddenly feels your lips linger a few seconds at his cheek, a simple "thank you Edward" whispered into his burning skin before you're gone
he knew you were trouble but how could he stay away?
#riddler#edward nigma#edward nygma#the riddler#jonathan crane#scarecrow#the scarecrow#my writing#headcannons#anonymous#some fluff i guess
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