my feelings of ryobocchi lately

ryo sincerely forgiving bocchi "in case she isn't autistic too, like she thought." she reflects on this horrible possibility with misty eyes. "i was 99% sure i was right but if somehow i'm not, that's okay." she gives her a comforting grab on the shoulder. "we can still be friends"

she knows not what she says. well, actually, she does. she just didn't *mean* it as an insult. how kind ryo-chan. how forgiving

bocchi: fucking frothing at the mouth, r-r-r-r-r-ryo-chan... what did YOU SAY TO ME? SOCIAL SKILLS SO BAD THEY MUST BE A MEDICAL DISORDER?! "4EVERALONE" SO BAD, SHE MIGHT AS WELL (censored)?! i-i thought we were friends-- w-w-why would you say that to me if you didn't mean for us to fight to the death, i wonder?...

ryo: well, cause i'd win.

nijika blows the ref whistle and collects her Dipshit before blood is spilled. yeah, sorry bocchi-chan. that's why i told her not to say that, but she Fucking Did Anyway Like Usual, so she's being punished, don't worry!

ryo: *shoujo tears, don't you people understand? she's too beautiful to face Consequences*

but it's too late: you can't just say that to a gamer. bocchi-chan will thirst for revenge and won't rest until her thirst is saked

Quick AU where Danny stays in town during Girls Night Out

Yeah, random thoughts spring into brain. Danny is trans. I think that's enough background info. Also, Tumblr got a new post editor, so I'm betaing it right now.

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Danny was supposed to go fishing with his dad. But something came up. AKA, Vlad wanted him to go visit him without Danny. So Danny was in Amity Park when he was supposed to be having dad bonding time. What could he say? His dad got that dumb book and everything. It was gonna be epic. Except stupid Vlad had to go and ruin everything. Whatever. Dad said they would go next weekend.

The first big issue was when Tucker disappeared. And he didn't. Might've been a dumb ghost thing. So he and Sam went to find stuff out. Except all the men in town were gone. It was glaring. "I-I'm sure it's nothing Danny!" Sam said nervously. "Yeah. It's gotta have been a stupid mistake. Maybe I'm immune cause I'm half ghost," Except there weren't any male ghosts either. "Yeah, that's gotta be it!" That when they heard Ember. "OH YEAH! NO MORE PESKY GUYS! IT'S A GIRL'S NIGHT OUT!" "Yes. You know, I'm surprised that worked. I was afraid it might've been a ghost only thing," Spectra drawled. "Of course it worked. The superior gender always prevails," Kitty replied. "And that's obviously female," Every vein in his body was pounding. "I think you might've confused sex for gender ladies," Sam said patiently. "We're not having sex!" Ember laughed. "You do realize how invalidating this can feel for trans people?!" Sam shrieked back. "If they're still here, that means it's a she," Spectra grinned. That was the last straw. He ran. As fast as he could. And for a half ghost that was fast. Once he got home, he slammed the door.

Sam saw Danny run off and knew how this was looking for him. "Isn't this rich? The ghost boy is really a girl," Kitty grinned. "I'm surprised I didn't notice sooner," Spectra laughed. Ember stayed oddly quiet for someone who was normally boisterously loud.

Danny curled in on himself. Herself. NO! Don't second guess yourself. It change the fact that it hurt. "All the men in town are gone!" He heard Jazz yell. "I realize that Jazz. Thank goodness your father is out of town," Mom sighed. "Wait, but Danny isn't! I really hope..." She was standing in his doorway. "FUCKING GHOSTS!" Jazz didn't swear. She never swore. "What is it Jazz? Oh. Danny, I'm so sorry," Mom pulled him into a hug. "I'll be fine," He grumbled. "Do you know which ghosts?" Jazz decided to change the conversation. "Spectra, Kitty and Ember," "Great. Spectra is going to use this horribly," Jazz grumbled quiet enough that only Danny could hear. "Listen, we have to get the guys back first," "Wait, if you're, that means any trans women in Amity are stuck there," Mom said. "Can we not talk about that? I'm seriously not in the mood," "At least pesky Phantom won't be here to get in the way," Jazz and Danny exchanged a look. Sam came bursting in. "Danny! Okay, I am going to make them even deader than before," Sam cracked her knuckles. "I'm fine Sam. Let's just find a way to fix this," "I have an idea!" Jazz said. "No," Danny, Sam and Mom said in unison. "Oh come on. Don't be like that. Not all my plans are bad," Jazz protested. "Speaking from experience (of being trapped in a thermos way too much for one night), that is completely untrue," "What was that about thermoses Danny?" Mom said. "Jazz put soup in my Fenton Thermos!" "I couldn't tell them apart! We really need to label things," "Like with a massive sticker that say Fenton?" "All our stuff has those!" "Fair enough," Danny conceded. It was the plan if anyone caught them talking about getting trapped in thermoses. It made sense because it actually happened. "Well, since Jazz's plan is out, I opt that we figure out how this whole thing happened," Mom said. "It's a combo between Kitty and Ember. Kitty has this thing that makes men disappear into another dimension. And Ember must've used her guitar to make it cover all of Amity. If we don't get them out in twelve hours, they'll be stuck there forever," "And I will have to resign to a life of raging dysphoria," "You were gonna have that anyways," "Times ten. This won't help anyways, but it won't be all bad," "Let's stop talking about you being trans. Danny, you're staying here," Jazz winked. He knew what that meant. They would get all the men back and Danny would keep the ghosts at bay. "Okay. So, from what they were blabbing, all we have to do is get them to do it again," Sam said. Once they had a plan in place, all they had to do was implement it. They left and Danny quickly transformed. Praying that Spectra wouldn't find a way to use this against him, he sped off. "Hey! Poo faces! I'm not gone, and it semi pisses me off!" He screamed. "Oh now sweety. Why would you want to leave behind the superior gender?" Spectra said. "Because it makes me feel horrible and like I was born wrong," "You were, weren't you," Don't let Spectra sink her claws in Fenturd! "Yeah, maybe I was, but if I work hard enough I can fix it," "How is Danny Phantom still here?" He heard Paulina say. Nope, not listening. "They're all going to know. You can't do anything about that," Spectra laughed evilly. "Now girls, follow the recipe! You too now," "I'm. NOT A GIRL!" The wail was probably ill planned, but Danny wasn't thinking straight. Shit, humans. He cut himself off. "Oh come on now. No matter how many times you tell yourself that, you still have to cover parts of yourself. Don't tell me you don't wake up every morning and wish you were a real boy?" "I am. I am a real boy. I just have to take a few extra steps to get there," "Oh come on now. Stop lying to yourself. Maddie, how can you possibly call these eggs? They're green," Okay, maybe dealing with Spectra first was a bad idea. But she was also taunting his mom. Deal with Ember. She must be better than this.

So he flew to a stage. Ember was rocking out with a bunch of girls. Sam was in the background. This was probably one of the less dangerous problems. "Listen, if you're going to taunt me for the fact that I'm still here, do it already," "Hey, listen kid. I'm not actually going to taunt you. Kitty and Spectra are being complete jerks, but I'm not going to judge you for being trans," "Y-you're not?" "Heck no! I'm doing this because I wanted to have a fun night without guys. You included. I'll just have to take a few extra steps to get rid of you!" Danny dodged the guitar strum easily. "Are you planning on bringing them back at the end of the night?" "That's really up to Kitty," "I guess," Sam could deal with Ember.

Next up was Kitty. Oh great, makeup. (I honestly forget what Kitty was doing, so makeup works) "Now girls. All you gotta do is apply the bronzer like so!" "Kitty! How would Johnny feel if he knew you were doing this?" "Oh come on now Ghost girl, you can't be serious. Johnny is having a guys night in all due time," "HEY! Don't you dare. Transphobia doesn't help anyone," Jazz yelled. "Oh stop complaining. She knows she doesn't belong with the guys. From the looks of it, Spectra's already gotten to you. This'll make this so much easier,"

The plan backfired immensely. Danny and Mom were a mess, Sam didn't manage to get the guitar, and Jazz just got in a debate with Kitty. Danny, having to keep up a facade, came downstairs. "How'd it go?" "Terribly. Though, I did learn the Ghost Boy is trans," Mom said. "Fascinating," "It's, well it's oddly human. Why would a ghost even bother?" "Turns out gender dysphoria comes to the grave," "Danny, this is no time for one of your morbid jokes," Yeah, maybe it was morbid, but it wasn't a joke. "Whatever. I guess we get to use Jazz's plan," "All we gotta do is convince them that a cis guy is still in town. Like wandered in after the disappearing act," "Great plan. Sam can't pretend to be me though," "How did you know I was going to do that?" "Lucky guess,"

So that's how Jazz ended up wearing a baseball cap and a pair of men's jeans into Ember's concert. "Did we really have to use a pair of dad's jeans? These barely fit," "You know, the fact that they fit at all should be surprising. Dad was skinny at one point in his life. Which means that one of us could be on his end of the gene pool," "It's probably you," "Don't make me think about that. Hiding what little chest I have is hard enough. If I got dad's genes, I'd honestly be terrified," "We haven't seen the women on his side of the family. And besides, you got the blue eyes black hair thing," "You are honestly scaring me. Now, I gotta scram before someone sees me talking to you. Mom or the ghosts," "Fair,"

And thus, the plan worked. Kitty, adamant that no men be left in Amity, blew another kiss. Ember amplified it. The men came back. The three got thermosed. Jazz laughed at their faces when they honestly though she was from out of town. Danny once again didn't get taken, even in ghost form.

Tucker and Sam found him curled up in his bed. "Hey man. I know this has gotta be tough for you," Tucker said. "Spectra had no right!" Sam continued. "Thanks guys. But I think I'm gonna take a few days off school," The trio heard Dash's voice outside. "Hey mom. I know what happened was scary. And I know it must've felt really bad, but I still see you as my mom," "Thanks Dash. I can always count on you to make me feel better," A woman's voice rang out. Danny looked over the window sill. "See Danny. It's not horribly weird. Just a few transphobic ghosts," Tucker laughed. "A couple," "What?" Sam and Tucker said in unison. "Ember isn't," "How do you know that?" "I talked to her," "Hey Fenturd! Don't you dare tell anyone about my mom! And don't be mean to her! I'm sure you wouldn't get it," "You'd be surprised Dash!" He grabbed his trans flag and hung it out the window. "I get it more than you seem to think!" Dash's mom smiled at him. "Y-you're trans? I thought you were just a loser!" "Yeah, and I had to talk to the transphobic ghosts. So I won't invalidate your mom!" Dash stared up at him. "Holy shit,"

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Praying that this uploads, cause I've got shoddy internet rn. And I'm working on my Gravity Falls crossover fic. I just had this pop into my mind. Prolly just gonna be a oneshot. I might make another fic about Jack's side of the family later, that's connected to this one.

Isn’t It Lovely?

Moving into the dorms seemed like a dream come true for (y/n). They could finally live free from their bleak home life, or so they thought. A Todoroki x reader fic loosely inspired by Lovely by Billie Eilish

Warnings: inappropriate touching, abuse, sucky parents, overall angst, cussing. Please, please don’t read if any of this could be triggering to you!!!!

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Howdy! Yet another unrequested fic I’m writing instead of emptying out my inbox (don’t worry, i’ll get to those too!!)

Going to UA was the greatest accomplishment of your life. You had spent years honing your skills in your quirk usage and general hand-to-hand combat - you were good. You’d made it into class 1A without issue, comfortably situated among the top in the class, but not so showy as to appear overconfident. It wasn’t long before you caught the eye of the son of the #2 hero - Todoroki Shouto.

It wasn’t until your fellow classmate, Midoriya Izuku, broke through Todoroki’s walls that the stoic boy began opening up to you. Within a few weeks of your friendship, he told you about his home life - the story behind his scar, the loss of his oldest brother, the intense training sessions. As you held his shaking form close, you realized just how important he was to you. You wanted him to be able to tell you anything, and you wanted to tell him everything too.

But you couldn’t. Not when he already had so much on his plate.

Soon after Todoroki, Midoriya, and Iida battled Hero Killer Stain, you decided you had to tell Todoroki how you felt. Your high school career was obviously going to be much more dangerous than anticipated, so who knew how much longer you’d have to say something? Much to your surprise, after a moment of tense silence, he muttered that he returned your feelings, a light blush coloring his cheeks. Thus started the best relationship of your life.

The events of the year didn’t make your relationship easy. It seemed like one of you was always injured or training, but you did your best to make time for each other. Just when you began to get tired of being pulled fifty different ways, the dorms were implemented.

Your parents were none too happy about you moving out at such a young age, but Aizawa managed to convince them it was for your own safety. You didn’t know how to tell your teacher that your adamant agreement was for reasons other than villain attacks.

You were overjoyed to find out that your dorm was on the same floor as Shouto’s; finally, you could have more time together! You dreamed of study dates in the common room, movie marathons in your dorms, quiet mornings before your classmates woke up and calm evenings after they went to sleep. You could calm him down when he woke up from nightmares, and maybe you could finally tell him everything you hadn’t gathered the courage to before. Maybe you could actually work up the nerve to let yourself be weak in front of him.

Unfortunately, life had other plans for you.

The day you were set to move in, your mother got called in to work unexpectedly, meaning she would be unable to help you bring your belongings to the dorms. That meant your father would have to help you instead. When you found out, your breath caught in your throat - this was exactly what you were trying to avoid. You never wanted him to know which building was yours, let alone which room. There was nothing you could do now though.

You walked into the common room of the 1A Heights Alliance, arms loaded with boxes and head lowered. You almost made it to the staircase when a soothing voice spoke from behind you.

“(Y/n)? What’s wrong?” Shouto asked. You instantly dropped your boxes and hugged him around the waist, burying your face in his collarbone.

“It’s nothing, Shouto. The move is just stressful, you know?”

He hummed in response, wrapping you up in his arms and kissing the top of your head. “Is there anything I can do to help? I can carry some of those boxes.”

You shook your head and pulled away just enough to kiss his cheek. “They’re not heavy. Thank you though.” The moment was broken by a honeyed voice coming from behind you.

“Who’s this, (y/n)? A friend of yours?” 

Your face instantly hardened, and you pulled away from Shouto and stiffly lifted your boxes from the floor. “Do you have my stuff?” you asked with a steely tone.

“Of course! Lead the way.”

You were about to open the door to the stairs when Shouto spoke up again, quieter this time. “Who is this, (y/n)?”

You barely glanced up to meet his eyes. “My father.”

He stood a few inches taller than you, with an athletic build and domineering presence. You had his nose and mouth, but not much else to give away your relation.

“I’ll see you later, Shou.” With that, you entered the stairwell and began the trek up to the fifth floor, your father trailing behind you.

“Was that young man Endeavor’s son?” your father asked innocently. 

“Yes.”

“Todoroki Shouto, correct?”

“Yes.”

“And what is your relationship with him?”

You exited the stairwell and walked to your door. Your father grew irritated.

“(Y/n), I asked you a question.”

You continued ignoring him and opened the door to your new room, which was disconcertingly bare. You hadn’t gotten two steps in when you heard the door slam shut behind you and felt yourself being spun around. Your boxes hit the floor with a dull thud.

“Are you dating him?” your father growled.

Now, this didn’t phase you terribly. Unfortunately, this wasn’t a rare occurrence at home. This was what you never wanted Shouto to know about. Your father was just as bad as his.

“I paid for years of the best training there is, I got you into the prestigious UA, and this is how you repay me? By whoring yourself out to the first pretty boy you see?” His volume was rising with each word.

“Father, please, we’re in public,” you mumbled.

A vein bulged in his temple. “You don’t get to tell me what to do! I’m your father!” With that, he brought a hand up and slapped you with every ounce of his strength. Your head snapped to the side, and you fell to the floor, landing on a small box and badly bruising your side and hip.

With a small whimper, you begged your father to stop. “Please, someone could hear. Please, stop.”

He dropped to his knees next to you and tugged your shirt up just enough to reveal the waistband of your pants, eyes crazed. “Maybe if I tighten your belt, that boy won’t be trying to take your pants off.”

Your eyes widened dramatically, hardly seeing anymore due to your panic and pain. “Dad, stop! Please! What the hell are you doing?”

Before he could make any more to follow up on his statement, your door burst open, revealing one very angry Torodoki Shouto. Frost climbed up his right hand, and sparks danced on the fingers of his left hand. “Get your fucking hands off them, right now.”

“Ah, if it isn’t the pretty boy himself. Come to use my pathetic child?” your father replied, undeterred by the furious glint in Shouto’s eyes. 

Ignoring your father’s words, Shouto swung his right arm in front of him, sending a wave of ice at your father and freezing him to the wall, leaving his head uncovered. He then dropped to his knees next to you and helped you into a sitting position, arm behind your back and other hand on your shoulder. 

“Aizawa is on his way. I told him your father was acting suspicious,” Shouto said quietly. “He’s not going anywhere for the time being. Let’s go, okay?”

You silently nodded and allowed him to help you to your feet. Aizawa made it to your room just as you limped out.

“(Y/n)? Are you limping?” Aizawa asked lowly. You nodded and stared at your feet. “Where is he?” he asked in a growl.

“I froze him to the wall. I walked in on him hurting (y/n),” Shouto explained tightly. “I’m taking them to my room. You can find us there when you’re done.” Aizawa must have nodded, because Shouto placed an arm around your shoulders and led you to his room. When you got situated on his futon, he grabbed your hand and lifted your chin so you were eye to eye.

“How long has this been going on?”

You shrugged. “A while, I guess. Few years.”

Shouto’s eyes widened for a moment, before narrowing a bit. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could have helped get you out.” His pained tone made your heart ache.

“You had enough to deal with as it was. You didn’t need this too,” you whispered.

“I would have done it for you, though. Anything for you.”

You leaned into his side and buried your face in his neck. “I was going to tell you after we got settled into our dorms. I thought this would be my way out, that maybe I could move on. But he- he never goes away. I hoped to actually make it out someday, but I guess I just got my hopes up. I guess I’ll never actually be free, huh?” You chuckled bitterly. 

“You can be free with me,” Shouto whispered. “I’ll keep you safe, always. He’ll never get near you again as long as I’m around.” He lifted your chin and placed a light kiss on your lips. “Stay here with me for a while, okay? I’m sure Aizawa won’t mind. And if he does, screw him.” He wrapped his arms securely around you and pulled you into a tight hug. “Welcome home, (y/n).”

incase you don’t live forever // rc

warning; ig it alludes to death, it’s fluffy until it’s angsty

summary; rafe loves y/n more than she’ll ever wrap her head around

word count; 2k+

based on incase you don’t live forever by ben platt

You put all your faith in my dreams You gave me the world that I wanted What did I do to deserve you?

“baby!” y/n looked over her shoulder, smiling widely and completely forgetting about the conversation she was previously immersed in when her eyes landed on a smiling rafe. 

he jogged the short distance over to her and wrapped his long arms around her waist, lifting her off of the ground and twirling her in the air. the girl squealed, but it only made rafe laugh and smile even brighter before he set her back down. 

“what’s got you so happy?” it wasn’t the rafe didn’t act like this around her, but it was something he often saved for less public occasions, and given their spot in the middle of a crowded beach, it shocked her slightly. 

“my dad agreed to let me sit it on his meetings this week. he also told me this morning that i get to go to the bahamas with him next week for that trip he has planned.” y/n’s smile almost reached her ears by the time rafe stopped talking. she had never seen rafe so excited about something so mundane, and it made her heart soar. 

“i’m so happy for you.” her voice was soft, but rafe heard every word spill from her lips. “i told you you could do it.”

he hugged her again, both of them smiling and laughing into each other. rafe was finally dipping his feet into the right pool, and was finding something worth his time. y/n always supported rafe’s dreams to implement himself in his father’s business, and now it seemed that it was all paying off. 

“we can go celebrate by stealing wine out of my mom’s cellar and taking the boat out.” y/n’s lips were pressed close to rafe’s ear, her voice sending a chill down his spine. 

“what did i do to deserve you?” he pressed his lips to her temple, careful not to make too much noise when he pulled away so she wouldn’t flinch at the sound. 

“you’re perfectly yourself, rafe cameron.”

I follow your steps with my feet I walk on the road that you started I need you to know that I heard you, every word

rafe trailed her, digging his feet into the footprints she left in the sand behind her. he stayed close behind, but gave her a bit of space as she wandered the shore’s edge. 

he held both of their shoes, one pair hanging from each of his hand while he watched the girl in front of him make irregular patterns in the sand with her feet.

rafe had lost track of how many topics she’d run through while she ranted about anything and everything. it started off with her mom dragging her to brunch again that morning, something she dreaded every sunday morning. now it was something about how her older sister was coming back to the island from college, and y/n would have to share the vodka stored away in the liquor cabinet. 

she spun around on the balls of her feet, stopping in place and crossing her arms over her chest as she pouted at the boy behind her. he laughed gently, closing the distance between them and wrapping his arms around her waist. 

“why are you pouting?” he kissed her lips, successfully getting her to suck in the lip that she had puffed out in a small pout. 

“did you even hear anything i just said?” he smiled widely at the girl, a warmth spreading through his chest as he pressed his lips against her forehead. 

“every word, princess.” 

In case you don't live forever, let me tell you now I love you more than you'll ever wrap your head around In case you don't live forever, let me tell you the truth I'm everything that I am because of you

he doesn’t remember a time where he wasn’t filled to the brim with love for the girl. the girl that would sneak him through her window when either of them were having a bad night. the girl that would stay on the phone with him all night long when insomnia kicked his ass, even if she had a final the next morning. 

the girl that would dance around her room in nothing but one of his shirts that was too big for her, holding the neck of a wine bottle and letting every melody flow through her body like she had made it herself. the girl that somehow fit in every bit of his life as if they were perfectly sculpted for one another. 

but above all else, the sight of her laying on top of him, even if it was just her head in his lap while he mindlessly played with her hair, was his favorite sight. she looked up at him, eyes locking with the blue pair that had been trained on her for an unknown amount of time. 

“you’re staring.” she whispered softly, but he just nodded. he did it often, and it came as a shock to nobody, but it still caught her off guard every single time. “what’s on your mind, cameron?” 

she sat up, moving into the boy’s lap like a dance she’d committed to muscle memory. his hands found her hips quickly, and her arms snaked over his shoulders while her hand threaded itself into the hair on the back of his head. 

“i love you more than you’ll ever wrap your head around.” she smiled widely at the confession, having heard the words drip from his tongue a few times before. the simple thread of words were something she never missed hearing rafe say before. 

“i’ll never love another person or thing as much as i love you, rafe cameron.” he let the smallest laugh pass his lips as he stared at the girl in his lap, not an ounce of worry or dread found within him in that moment. 

“I'm everything that I am because of you.” and it was true. 

she’d shown him that life is not all about being on top, or having people reassure you that you’re doing great. she showed him that he’d never get any reassurance in life from others until he found it within himself. she showed him how to be happy on his own, and in turn allowed himself to be happy alongside the girl of his dreams. 

I, I've carried this song in my mind Listen, it's echoing in me But I haven't helped you to hear it

“rafe, tell me what’s wrong.” she was confused, having watched the boy cry for the past hour without any indication of what had happened before he snuck through her window. 

“everything’s just piling up, y/n.” she sighed then. she knew rafe buried his problems and his feelings. he buried them so deep he convinced himself that he was truly okay. 

which only led these things to bubble over at some inevitable point, but y/n was always there to pick up the pieces. she held him, hand running up and down his back and thumb wiping away the tears on his cheeks. 

“you can’t keep burying these things, rafe. you have to talk to me.” he nodded into her chest, knowing that he simply had to get better at opening up about things. 

and he would do better. better for her and better for himself.

I've waited way too long to say Everything you mean to me

he couldn’t believe what life had handed him. he couldn’t thank the universe enough for the girl they had perfectly built for him. he couldn’t believe that she had slummed it with him for the past three years, but he wouldn’t have taken a second of it back. 

he couldn’t believe that life could take a complete 180 in mere hours. he couldn’t believe that one single moment of time, one bad decision, could bring him to this uncomfortable plastic chair, waiting for her name to ring through the waiting room. 

his leg was bouncing so quickly it had stressed out topper enough to ask him to calm down, more than once. but how was he supposed to calm down when he had no idea what was going to happen? 

had he waited too long? he knows he’d said ‘i love you’ enough times to last a lifetime, but he thought he’d be able to say it for a lifetime. he though that he’d have more time.

more time to tell her everything he loved about her. more time to watch her dance to songs even when her hips were affected by alcohol. time to hear her sing his favorite songs at an hour where they weren’t sure it was morning or nighttime anymore. 

time to hear her laugh, even if it was at how bad his joke was. time to watch her eyes light up when he brought her coffee after a long night. time to listen to her read poems to him that she found on the internet. he thought he had time.  I have a hero whenever I need one I just look up to you and I see one I'm a man 'cause you taught me to be one

he remembered the time his hands were shaking so bad that she had to tie his tie for him. he’d taught her how to do it one day after she begged him. 

“it’ll be cute! i can tie your ties before you go off to work in the morning. or, i can tie our son’s ties before graduations and parties that he doesn’t want to go to.” rafe was smiling at her, wondering if she realized the rant she had fallen into. 

“our son? you want to have kids, baby?” her cheeks tinted red as she realized what she had said. 

“yeah, i mean, uh- is that what you want?” he kissed her forehead and then her lips, smiling widely when their foreheads pressed together. 

“i want everything with you.” 

she tied the tie quickly now, her fingers working with the fabric as though she’d done this for years. her hands smoothed the lapels of his jacket before she grabbed his shoulders softly. 

“you’re going to be great, okay? just laugh at their awful jokes, and smile when you greet people. shake their hands firm enough to get a compliment on your grip, but not so much that they joke about you ripping their arm off.” rafe was nodding, taking in every bit of information that she offered him. 

“okay, i think i got it.” she smiled widely and kissed his lips. 

“you got this, baby. knock ‘em dead.”  In case you don't live forever, let me tell you now I love you more than you'll ever wrap your head around In case you don't live forever, let me tell you the truth I'm everything that I am

he cried when he saw her, needles in her arm and bandages wrapped around various parts of her body. her eyes were open, which only let him see how much pain she was in. to anybody else, it was nothing more than a tired or scared expression, but to rafe it was devastating. 

he didn’t know how he was ever meant to get in a car again. how he could sit behind the wheel and look out of the shield of glass in front of him without remembering what the love of his life had to go through. he didn’t know if he’d make it out of this.

her parents left the room when rafe walked in, leaving him with a hug from her mother and a clap on the back from her father. he pulled a chair up next to her bed and held her hand in his tightly. 

“i’ll be okay.” she whispered softly, trying to assure rafe that whatever was happening to her would end however it was meant to be. 

“what if i’m not?” he looked up at her, all confidence that he had previously washed away within seconds. 

“you’re going to be better than okay. whatever happens will happen, and you’ll live your life however you’re supposed to, okay?” she reached out to wipe away his tears, letting rafe see and feel how much her hand was shaking. 

“baby.” he spoke softly, leaning into her touch and filling her hand with fresh tears. 

“it’s going to be okay, rafe. i love you more than life itself, baby.” he choked out a sob at the words she picked out, the situation at hand playing into it all too well. “I love you more than you'll ever wrap your head around.”

he smiled at the familiar words, though it didn’t make him cry any less. 

“I'm everything that I am because of you, y/n.”

In case you don't live forever, let me tell you the truth As long as I'm here as I am, so are you

-

you interpret the ending, bbies

My experience starting ADHD meds (for the first time) as an adult:

So I started ADHD meds recently. I contacted my doctor in early December, and spent the next month or so trying to figure out the right medication and dosage via basically weekly doctor’s appointments (online). Since there was a lot I found out after starting the meds that are apparently common experiences, I figure it might help to talk about my experience with all of this.

So I am medicated for my ADHD for the first time in my life at 27. There were two attempts when I was a kid, but neither of them worked out. The first when I was in fourth grade (I was diagnosed somewhere between first and third grade, I can’t quite remember), it was decided the side effects were not worth it, and a second attempt in middle school, but I refused to take it since I bought into a lot of the BS around brain meds. Its only in the last few years as I have learned more about ADHD have I learned exactly how it is effecting me. I managed to do well enough in high school to get into a good college (after doing really poorly in jr high). Managed to get an engineering degree (in 4 years with research, I was hella burnt out by the end of that) and managed to get (and hold) a job as an engineer shortly after college. Basically, since I could at lest fake functional and manage well enough (mostly because I was taught a ton of coping mechanisms by my parents as a kid), I just, never realized how much it effects me. I have been living an interesting and fulfilling life (as long as you ignore my mail bathtub).

After learning more and realizing that it was my ADHD was the source of a lot of the frustrations and struggles (I am basically a human checklist of the symptoms), I started to consider medication. The biggest reason for me is that I wanted to be able to focus on my own hobbies. I am incapable of hyper-fixating on anything that involves sitting down (or like, in general I am really bad at sitting down). I put off doing anything about if for years because well... executive dysfunction is a thing. It is really because of my roomate I finally went through with getting on mediation. This summer I moved in with a couple of close friends, one of which is also a cis women with ADHD who was diagnosed in elementary school. After not being interested in medication herself for most of her life, she recently decided to pursue it after some long conversations with another of our roomate’s girlfriend (I am one of 7 people in my friend group with diagnosed ADHD). Basically it was an accountability thing. We both held each other accountable for contacting our doctors.

Ok so after that very long introduction, what exactly are my experiences then? One of the things that surprised me was that I didn’t really run into too many barriers regarding getting on meds. In my case, I just talked to my general practitioner and she was like cool, lets start with XYZ. She actually didn’t want my original diagnosis since it was so old that she felt like any proposed plan would be out of date. (This is compared to my roommate who had to get a copy of her original diagnosis and even then her doctor was mostly comfortable prescribing meds because she is in talk therapy). (Though she has also pointed out I have been seeing my doctor for a bit now and therefor have a repor with her compared to her own doctor who was basically randomly assigned to her by her insurance and she met for the first time (online) when she contacted him to discuss meds)

I was originally prescribed Wellbutrin, a common off lable option for ADHD (it is a non stimulant, and by extension less bad side effects). My doctor wanted to go with it due to my really bad anxiety since it could potentially help with both. Unfortunately it made my anxiety way worse and I had a panic attack for the first time in years so we quickly stopped it and switched to other options. The next thing we tried (which is what I am now on) was extended release adderall. This is the most common stimulant prescribed to adults with ADHD. From what my doctor was saying, it is preferred for adults since it lasts all day (and with pretty even effects), it helps cover both work and the evening since most adults have additional responsibilities in the evening. In my case, due to how I responded to the Wellbutrin she also wanted to make sure I was on something that would not spike my dopamine. When messing with the dosage, I found that the amount that seems to help is also the amount that make my insomnia worse, so I am take a slightly lower dosage of the extended release, and make up the small difference using the short release.

Regarding side effects, the two noticeable ones that did not go away after a week (I initially had problems with a high heart rate, but that went away after a few days) are thirst and hunger suppressant. There is not much I can do about constantly being thirsty other then drink a ton of water. I was able to talk to a friend about the hunger thing, so I was able to implement quite a few tips and tricks that help me eat something during the day.

The two odd side effects I was not expecting is that caffeine actually effects me now and I also have way less of a sweet tooth. My doctor warned me about the caffeine thing, and my coffee drinking has really gone down. I went from at least two cups a day to a mug of half caff in the morning (I can’t cut it out entirely due to withdraw symptoms (so you know addition)). Regarding the sweets, I don’t know if I crave sugur less, or if it is improved impulse control. A good portion of my impulse control issue revolve around food so I am unsure.

Also I am running into a thing a friend was telling me about. The meds help you focus end of statement. This means you can end up focusing on things you don’t want to be focusing on.

As for the positives, well, I guess I was expecting more. I knew that meds weren’t some magic bullet and I was still going to need to use all of my coping mechanisms, but I guess I thought that the focus issues, would, just go away. But this is not how meds work. The way my roommate’s girlfriend describes it is that it gives you 15% more spoons, and that makes a ton of difference (for some people, this can be the difference between stuff like being able to hold a job). It is also really hard to tell if your meds are working. I texted a friend asking about how to tell, and he basically told me that it was the million dollar question (meaning there is no clean answer). Honestly, I still don’t know for sure if they are working or if I am just saying that. Part of it is that i literally can’t remember what I act like or feel when I am not on meds (and if I take a break for a day, vice versa). I am currently going with the assumption they are though.

For me, what I have been finding is that while I still get distracted from tasks I don’t like, I return to them faster. So rather then getting bored, getting on my phone and like, fucking around for a long time. I might just briefly check social media and then return to my task (meaning I get more done faster). I have also found it is making the executive dysfunction way easier for me. It is still difficult to start tasks, but, it takes distinctly less energy to do so meaning I generally start tasks sooner, or in some cases, do them at all to begin with. It helps curb some of my impulse control issues, mostly around stuff like food and impulse purchases of going out for lunch or coffee. It might be helping with the emotional dysregulation, but I have a hard time gauging that one. It’s just making things a bit easier, and well, that goes a long way.

More importantly, I am achieving my original goal. I am more able to focus on my hobbies and interest. I am starting to return to robotics, and it is already going better then when I tried it out as a teenager. I don’t know how well this will work out in the long run, but I am cautiously optimistic.

TLDR: I am not quite sure how to summarize, but if you know people on ADHD meds and are considering them (or are otherwise not on them and want to know more), it is probably worthwhile to have a conversation about them.

whumptober 2020 ------ day 31. left for dead

@whumptober2020​  Rebelcaptain Hunger Games AU: Cassian is Jyn’s mentor in the 70th Hunger Games. After being crowned victor at fifteen years old, Cassian is all-too-familiar with what it takes to bring a tribute home, and what becoming a victor really means.

content warnings: implied/referenced torture, mentions of attempted suicide, referenced brainwashing/conditioning, nonconsensual body modification, references to forced prostitution, references to forced drug use, unhappy/ambiguous ending

A/N: if downer endings aren’t quite your thing, I’ve written an alternate ending here, as well as additional author’s notes in a coda here. this is my first completed multichapter and thank you to everyone who has kept up with this story! any additional fics in this verse will be posted to my ao3.

previous: day 1 / 2  / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15  / 16  / 17 / 18 / 19 / 20 / 21 / 22 / 23 / 24 / 25 / 26 / 27 / 28 / 29 / 30 / → read on AO3

When Draven gets the call to escort Cassian from the Remake Center back to their district floor in the Tributes’ Tower and stand by for a forthcoming itinerary, he doesn’t need to see his charge to know that something fundamentally wrong has happened.

The last time his schedule began with picking up Cassian from the Remake Center was that period of time after his father died, which Draven now knows the truth about. But at the time he had been told that after Jeron Andor and Irga Torres were killed in a power plant explosion that a seditioner was blamed for, Cassian tried to kill himself out of grief. After two weeks in the Capitol of being monitored in extensive in-patient therapy, he was turned over to Draven to be ushered through the media press tour for his father’s death.

How Cassian behaved back then is eerily similar to how he presently is in Draven’s custody. He’s sitting in the backseat and relaxed against the headrest, but Draven has known Cassian long enough that the lines of stress pinning him in place are plain to see. His hands folded, in his lap. Facing forward, staring ahead at nothing. A tic in his jaw, barely perceptible but one that Draven catches all the same.

But what disturbs Draven are his eyes. Unlike that first time Draven picked him up from the Remake Center, they aren’t pained or filled with misery. They’re empty, in an unrecognizable way that Draven has never seen in him before.

After furtively investigating the intendance records kept of his charge for the past four years, Draven knows what really happens when Cassian is brought to the Capitol for ‘extensive in-patient therapy’. But for a brief moment he feels something revoltingly similar to gratitude that Cassian’s conditioning is strict about needless eye contact.

-

Next morning’s briefing packet sent to his datapad has a subfolder tagged with “SENSITIVE INFORMATION: DO NOT DISCLOSE,” to be unlocked with a retinal scan. It’s a copy of Jyn Erso’s medical record and an image of a bedside chart; last night she was transported from District 5 to an elite hospital in the Capitol for treatment of a stubborn respiratory illness.

Draven knew better than to ask questions—those who did had their tongues cut out and turned into Avoxes—but he quietly looks into the matter himself while performing his job’s duties for Cassian, whose schedule is booking up like it did during the Games. Taking every precaution available to avoid detection prolongs the search, but eventually he is able to determine that Jyn’s condition is a lie. That there is no proof that Jyn is even in the Capitol.

And then, he realizes, they must not know where she is at all.

-

Cassian’s body language used to telegraph his condition after an appointment but he doesn’t seem capable of it anymore. Nowadays, no matter how badly he’s been abused by a client, the posture he affects in the car is always the same: his hands folded, in his lap. Facing forward, staring ahead at nothing. A tic in his jaw, barely perceptible.

Whatever they had Cassian relearn in therapy included perfecting his talents as an obedient whore, so he’s not often returned in a state of intoxication as he once had to be. But it’s during those increasingly rare times—and only those times—that his tongue is loosened enough to let slip some of the perpetual torment he has to live with as punishment, because of Jyn Erso’s disappearance.

It’s one such night that Draven picks up Cassian at 03:01. After the car pulls away from the curb Cassian is still for a moment, before he heaves out a shuddery breath and his arms slump to his sides.

“Did you know they made it so I can’t say her name anymore?”

The words and their meaning take a moment to register with Draven. Then he says, “What?”

“No… I don’t think they would have told you. But I mean, her. My tribute. The one I saved.”

He can only be talking about Jyn Erso. Draven doesn’t say anything but he doesn’t have to; tonight, Cassian is giving voice to another painful truth.

“They asked me questions about her, had me read sentences aloud… made me give responses with her name in it. And they would hurt me, every single time I said it, so I can’t say it. Not without pain. Not anymore.”

His raspy confession is made to the silence. “Her name was like a prayer to me. Snow must have noticed, so he took it away.” A broken chuckle. “I didn’t think something like that was possible. But, they made me learn.”

Draven doesn’t know if he should be hearing this. But when he turns to give his full attention to his charge it’s like a switch is flipped. When their eyes meet Cassian’s eyes widen before he bolts himself back into place—hands back in his lap and looking straight forward.

The only thing betraying his vulnerability are the tears in his eyes.

-

It should not surprise Draven that Cassian tries to kill himself not long after that lapse in conduct, but it still does. At least, it’s a surprise in the sense that finding out a peer of two decades attempted suicide will always come as a surprise.

The Peacekeepers come when Draven is in the sitting room, waiting for Cassian to finish showering before Kay and his prep team arrive. One moment there’s the ding of the elevator arriving on their floor and in the next, six Peacekeepers are storming in.

Draven knows better than to demand answers in the heat of the moment so he stays out of their way, listens to the sound of the bathroom door breaking and boots stomping over shattered glass, listens to the sound of Cassian’s—frankly animalistic—screams as he’s subdued, and stays out of the way once again when they drag him out naked and wet and dripping blood from his arms and neck. They stand him there until a Peacekeeper returns from the bathroom with a dark fluffy green bathrobe for his modesty, and then he’s taken away.

When they make fleeting eye contact Draven is struck by the scathing accusation in his charge’s eyes. He wasn’t the one who called for the Peacekeepers but Cassian doesn’t know that, and Draven knows what it looks like. But there’s nothing he can say to Cassian in any case, nothing that can change the outcome of whatever has been decided to change next about him.  

-

Draven is scheduled to pick up Cassian from the Remake Center two weeks later. He has to walk into the lobby because the lead cognitive remake specialist has requested to talk to him, to show and demonstrate Cassian’s new implant.

It’s a very thin line of a scar on the back of Cassian’s neck, invisible to the naked eye but Draven can feel it when he brushes his fingers over the skin; beneath is a subdermal neuro-electrical node, grafted onto the nerves there. The specialist explains that when activated, it prevents Cassian from making sudden or any ‘suspiciously motivated’ movements. The remote that they give to Draven is for disabling it. Later on, Draven is assigned the responsibility of disabling its function for Cassian’s appointments as well as reenabling it after each one in turn.

Neither says a word as they get into the waiting car. They don’t speak for the whole car ride back, either. But more than once Draven sees Cassian’s hand creep to the back of his neck; his fingers slowly brush the scar tissue, before his hand is carefully guided back to his lap.

-

It proves very challenging to track where Cassian had been taken after his suicide attempt; Draven is always diligent about maintaining stealth when conducting these probes, but the seriousness of the situation called for significant preventive precautions to be taken. But once he succeeded…

…Then what?

He was able to determine that Cassian was taken to the same complex—in truth, one of several privately held black site facilities—for another two weeks of ‘in-patient therapy’ before he was transferred to the Remake Center. His process uncovered an entire network of similar private corporations and entities that operated under the purview of the government, all funded by the Hunger Games division for one apparent purpose: the victors’ covert diversion program.

But this devastative information only came about as a consequence from his attempts to satisfy an aberrant concern for Cassian’s whereabouts; Draven wasn’t planning on actively doing anything with it. Even the thought alone is treasonous: believing that victors deserved anything less than the hell that came pursuant on winning the Games was just a step below believing that the districts of Panem deserved anything more than the destitution and squalor left to them after the Dark Days. The victors’ diversion program was devised and implemented to prevent victors from believing that winning the Games meant anything other than being punished for it. Repeatedly. Because even if a new victor is crowned every year, the real winner of the Hunger Games will always remain the Capitol.

This is what Draven has always known. But then… there was Cassian.

He had come to know the boy at six years old, the first year Draven received the assignment to escort not only Irga and Jeron to the town plaza for District 5′s reaping, but the latter’s wife and son as well. Only one of the two living District 5 victors had a family, and now that Cassian was old enough to understand how to behave the Games producers wanted reaction shots of Jeron’s wife and child.

Their acquaintance proceeded as such—twice a year Draven saw the Andor boy, first at the reaping and again when escorting Jeron and Irga home after the closing ceremonies. Though he chose not to indulge in the sentiment, seeing Cassian grow up through the years in such a manner often left Draven with a feeling similar to how he felt after visiting with once-a-year relatives during Wintermas.

After Cassian was reaped and won his Games, Draven’s duties as District 5’s escort were officially recategorized with Cassian as his primary charge, relegating Jeron and Irga to second priority; if they needed to be chaperoned somewhere while he was with Cassian, there was express authorization to send a number of Peacekeepers to complete the task. But for the purpose that President Snow intended to use Cassian for, only a Games escort with discretionary expertise could do.

Draven’s choice of career tended to attract a lot of airheads and grifters, those who relished in schmoozing up sponsors or otherwise gunning for a glimpse of the glory and glamor awarded to a winning victor’s support team. But Draven derived his dedication to the job solely from esteem in his own competence; perhaps that was why the president believed his silence on Cassian being groomed and Jeron remaining unaware of it was guaranteed.

Did the president, in all of his scheming, ever consider the possibility of Draven going rogue? But even if he did tell Jeron of what President Snow was doing to his son it wouldn’t have changed the outcome; Cassian’s placement into a mentoring position could only be accomplished by leaving District 5’s mentorship short of a victor. Plus, he would have had his tongue cut out and turned into an Avox if Snow found out; if Peacekeepers were dispatched to interrupt Cassian’s suicide attempt quickly enough to thwart it, his treachery would have inevitably been discovered.

And where would that leave Cassian?

Another escort would be assigned, one who didn’t mind enabling Cassian after an assignment when he comes back horny and drunk or high, or in the mood for taking out his self-loathing on the only person available. Those moments of weakness never failed to stun Draven with their impact—they were cruel reminders of the fact that he is the only person in the Capitol who sees what became of a tormented boy, now constrained to his life as a tormented prisoner.

But Cassian’s new conditioning doesn’t seem to allow for any moments of weakness. Or rather, the implant doesn’t. His movements are mechanized and deliberate, calculated to avoid triggering the parameters for a shock, yet fluid enough that evidently he was put through his paces by his captors. Until he was well-trained, and conditioned, and became devoid of any expression at all.

Suffice to say, they don’t talk anymore. What is there left to say? Nothing, not until Draven receives an update on Jyn Erso’s health status. Then a personal summons to President Snow’s office.

-

The president and a trio of his advisors are waiting for Draven. The situation with District 5’s new victor has turned  critical; even with the Capitol’s elite medical advancements, Jyn is not responding well to treatment.

Draven knows it’s all lies but he agrees along with their assessment. Jyn’s untimely death before the Victory Tour may be unavoidable, and the Capitol needs to control the story behind the cause to control the public’s reaction to her death. Her condition has been kept secret in anticipation of this very situation; several contingency plans to stage been drawn up, each optimized to account for potential blowback between the Capitol and the districts.

While each plan is pitched to weather Snow’s criticism, Draven doesn’t let any confusion or concern cross his face. Not when the president’s snakelike eyes are on his every time Draven chances a glance. He knows Snow is observing his reaction to this authoritarian show of might—whatever choice is made here will have a ripple effect throughout all of Panem, going much further than the conflict between President Snow and the victors of District 5. Expectably, Draven isn’t asked for any input, but he knows that’s not what he’s been called here for.

After the advisors are dismissed Draven stands alone, a respectable distance away in front of Snow sitting at his desk; the president watches him awhile before he speaks. “So, Davits. You understand how imperative it is that we control the narrative, not just here within the Capitol but in the rest of Panem.”

“Of course, Mister President.”

“I’m sure, then, you understand the necessity of what was done to Cassian.” Snow gets up from behind his desk, circling around to lean against the dark mahogany facade with his arms crossed. His stance is still threatening despite its casual assertion; Draven almost takes a step back but he remains standing where he is.

“Jeron Andor mistakenly believed that he had enough power to take matters into his own hands; it can be only him who passed along the concept to young Cassian. One would think that his father’s fate taught him that attempting to do so can only end in tragedy. And yes,” he says in answer to the sudden clench of fear in Draven’s chest, “I’ve been made aware of your interloping efforts regarding Jeron and Miss Torres’ deaths. I concede that it was not a deception that accounted for close scrutiny. Rest assured that when your inquests were discovered, the advisor and those responsible for implementing the proposal were swiftly executed.”  

The president continues, “I will not question your motives for investigating the matter. I am not commending your capabilities in doing so, either. But understand this: there is nothing for you to do here except your assigned function as District 5’s escort. Nothing less, and nothing more. An unfathomably simple request, yet if only Cassian had performed his role in the same capacity his implant would not have been deemed necessary. Undoubtedly you agree that rebellious actions such as his merit consequences tailored to their severity.”

Draven’s throat is dry but his voice remains steady. “Indeed, sir.”

Snow straightens himself upright. They’re both tall people but he does have an inch on Draven in height, and his next words are spoken in a voice both paternalistic and contemptuous. “No further harm has to befall the boy, but it will be your future discretion which will determine that. Now, have I made your situation clear?”

-

Snow doesn’t know the entirety of what Draven knows about the victor diversion program then. Yet. It may only be a matter of time before Peacekeepers are at his door. They wouldn’t kidnap him for ‘extensive in-patient therapy’, not when a bullet to the head would be quicker, cleaner, and most effectively ensure his silence.

There’s only one road for him to take now; he can no longer abide by what the Capitol is allowed to demand from Cassian, not when they claw for everything within reach to cement his enslavement.

Where will his charge be a year from now, or three? What else can they take from him?

How did Jeron live through nineteen years of this feeling?

It should feel daunting; the thought only registers later that night after Cassian is dropped off at the Tower and Draven is heading home. That finding a way to save Cassian will take everything he’s got, in order to go against everything he’s ever known. But Draven did not get this far in his life by second-guessing his choices, and he has never been so sure of one thing.

The next certainty is this: he’s got to find Jyn Erso.

Unwind

Alright, this is my first time posting and I'm so hella anxious shsjsjsjs I didn't polish the grammar so I apologize, i just knew if i took anymore time on it I'd never have the guts to actually post

TW: mention of rape / pedophilia

Fluff/Slice of Life

Pairings: Batman x Reader Bruce Wayne x Reader

she/her pronouns, no character description

"5 minutes until sunrise." The modulated voice spoke, breaking concentration. Batman releasing a criminal from his iron grip and letting him drop in a bloodied heap, the robotic voice in his head drumming and repeating the words until his heart rate had slowed and his blood calmed.

His gloves had begun chafing the ridges of his fingers, finally breaking them in with his excessive force on the man unconscious beneath him.

He had witnessed the man attempt to break into the apartment beside them, home to a young girl and her parents.

A rapist. Child rapist. Pedophile. His eyes narrowed again to the man and he felt his blood begin to drum again.

He let go of his baited breath and pulled the handcuffs from his belt. Hooking them onto the mans wrist as he set him upright to the alley wall. Batman looked over and saw the battered camera had skidded near the street and he reached to grab it.

Bringing it closer to his face, he observed the digital camera as the lens had cracked in the center. The paint chipped on the edges, but when he held the on button down it turned on easily with the pictures readily available. He shut it back off.

The evidence was enough for Gordon to know why the man was in his state. He set the camera in the mans lap when the roar of sirens echoed down the empty street.

Batman stood, grabbing his grappling gun and shooting it off to the nearest building. As he did, he looked up to see a young girl in the window. Her sleepy, bleary eyes widening when she made eye contact with him and he simply pressed a gloved finger to his lip, and released the gun as he shot up in the remaining night sky.

By the time he reached the garage with the batmobile hidden inside, the sun had just barely begun to peek over the morning clouds. He walked over to the batmobile, sliding into the drivers seat. He releasing a deep sigh once he was settled, knowing by the time he returned home it would be morning.

Y/N might even be awake when he returned.

He pulled the gloves off, letting the bare skin cool against the steering wheel as the chafed, redness of his hands were relieved from the confines of the thick leather. Just the barest hint of humanity brought back to him and Bruce felt the entirety of the night replay in his head like he was in a theater.

The batmobile roared to life beneath his palms, and he tore out of the garage.

East end, he was near Robinson Park where an underground tunnel to the batcave was. His hands rolling the steering wheel to turn on Burbaker street and straight to the tunnel. The growing daylight chasing the batmobile as he drove through the underground road and headlights blaring on the cavern walls.

The light had faded soon after, he was much too quick for the daylight to catch him. Now, he was left in the dark until the tunnel opened up to the batcave.

Preparing the full stop, he pressed the break and drove right into the mobiles natural spot. The inorganic lights turning on within his presence and he turned the batmobile off before getting out.

The sharp breath he made brought in the metallic and murky scent, the scent of home. His steps echoing as he walked to the computer as the screen lit up with the face of the man he had just left in the alley.

"Gerrick Tiller. 43, divorced with restraining order. Registered class 2 sex offender." He read. Knowing Gordon, Tiller would be class 3 by breakfast with possession of child pornography and charged with trespassing.

Gordon didn't fuck around with sex offenders, and whatever Batman could do to them Gordon did ten fold. Legally of course.

The computer went black, he stepping towards the suits as saw his reflection in the glass and pulled the cowl off.

Sweat. It just dripped down his neck as the rush of cold, murky air hit his face and he closed his eyes to feel it all.

This was the most human he felt, taking each piece off and letting the shell fall off as if he was shedding the skin of the Batman to be Bruce again.

Just Bruce. Not the billionaire Bruce Wayne. Just. Bruce.

When the suit was off, he reapplied it to the mannequin and was left in his briefs. His eyes scanning at the bruises on his side as he clenched his stomach to feel how sore he might be.

Not bad this time around, he was getting better at fending off multiple offenders at once. His eyes turning to the purple mark on his chest that he lightly prodded before smiling.

Not a bruise, a remnant of his evening before on parole. Maybe Y/N wasn't up yet, it was a Saturday. The office would be closed today.

Bruce's bare feet patted on the metal flooring as he stepped into the enclosed bathroom he had implemented. The sight of the toilet alone made his lower stomach ache and he was reminded it had been 5 hours since his last relief.

He made quick work, toilet and shower. Not exactly enjoying the shower since the plumbing wasn't at the best in the cave. The water was ice cold, yet also grounded him better than hot water could.

His mind jumped from one point to the next, the shower needed to be figured out and he'd look into the manual he bought.

There wasn't exactly a good plumber who could keep a secret about the cave, he'd begun learning for himself. Y/N helped, reading through the more confusing parts of the book to make sense of what the author was trying to teach.

But then again, she was better at tinkering and figuring her way around it. He relied on the book. Until she figured out how to reattach the water line for the toilet and he just about returned the book after he tried 4 times without result.

Now all that was left was the cold water, and he was still planning out the new modulator. Then the batarangs needed updating since Penguin began hoarding the ones he left behind to sell the tech inside of them.

Combustable batarangs, his trial one had combusted in his previous belt and without the fireproof fabric in his suit he would've lit his ass up. Lost the belt though, but that was easier to replace.

Suddenly, Bruce groaned and pressed his head to the shower wall. So much to do, so little time. He hadn't even processed half of his day and he was back to the little things he needed to accomplish.

"Bruce?"

"Shit-" he jumped. Bruce turning fast when he saw Y/N at the door to the bathroom.

Her eyes on the glass shower door as he let his heart rate calm down. "Sorry, I didn't mean to surprise you." She said, voice somewhat groggy.

"... did I wake you?" He asked, turning the water off as she leaned against the wall and shook her head.

"No... I woke up and realized you hadn't come home yet." She said, her tone softening and suddenly all the worry and the nagging in his head silenced.

Bruce opened the shower door and grabbed his towel to wrap around his waist, all while his eyes met hers and he visibly relaxed.

She could see it, the weary tiredness in his eyes. The sudden quiet in his voice, and she gently stepped closer to wrap her arms around his waist. His skin firm and colder than ice, her warmth spreading within him as she kept her eyes on his.

"Come to bed... I've missed you." She said gently, Bruce holding her softly as he closed his eyes and slid a hand against her cheek. His nose burying into her hair and inhaling the familiar warm scent of her.

"Me too..." he whispered, Y/N sighing and they stood for a simple moment like that.

Until her pajama shirt started soaking from his wet form and she shivered.

"Cold water still..." she sighed, chuckling lightly as he broke a small smile.

"I'll meet you upstairs." He said, Y/N hesitantly parting from him with a slight nod.

"Don't distract yourself." She said, heading out of the room and he smiled while grabbing the extra clothes he had in a small metal drawer.

"Not today..." he said quietly, drying off before changing. The warmth of her had lingered and his mind was on one thing. Her. That's it.

Once he had finished, he moved out to get on the elevator as it closed and raised up to the second floor library. He pressing against one of the backs of the book shelves as it parted and brought him into the room. Closing it, he walking out to the hallway and straight towards their bedroom.

The sitting room had a tray on the table. Crumbs in a plate as Alfred must had served Y/N breakfast. She had left a blueberry scone on the hot plate and he took it to bite into and let the warm bread and melted blueberry envelop his palate.

In seconds, he was left with the remaining crumbs and wiped his hand with a napkin. He heard the door open as he saw Alfred stand in the door way with another tray.

Their eyes met and Alfred raised an eyebrow. "I have more scones, master Bruce." He said, Bruce stepping out of his way as Alfred set the second tray down.

"I can see that. Thank you." He said, seeing the poached eggs on avocado toast with a side of bacon, and another hot plate of three blueberry scones. Alfred grabbed the empty one and looked at Bruce again.

"After food, you are to sleep. You're growing paler by the minute." Alfred mumbled, Bruce hiding his smile from his nagging.

"Of course Alfred. I appreciate the concern." He retorted, grabbing the tray before heading into the bedroom and saw Y/N in bed scrolling on the ipad.

"Is that the news?" He asked, she hardly looking up.

"Unfortunately. But nothing about you thankfully." She looked up as he placed the tray on the bed. "Either of you." She corrected, Bruce sliding onto his side as the cold sheets suddenly brought an ache through his whole body that he groaned.

Y/N setting the iPad down and sat up a bit.

"... I'm sure Alfred has already demanded you to sleep. Which I'm his echo." She said, pulling the tray closer as he slowly sat up.

"Batman can handle 5 gang members with weapons, but I'm powerless against the both of you." He said with a sigh, Y/N chuckling softly.

"There's some battles we can't always win." She handed the plate over as he took it gently and pressed a soft kiss to her temple.

"It humbles me to lose once in a while. Especially when it comes to you." He spoke softly, turning to the eggs as she smiled with a slight blush on her cheeks. She turned to the side table and grabbed her coffee, sipping it as she returned to the iPad.

The silence that eased between them was a comfort. The small stereo on the side table quietly playing classic harp and violin that she loved, and everything else a soft silence. The more food he ate, the further he brought himself into comfort until it was all gone.

He pushed the tray to the end of the bed, noticing her attention was still on the device and he gently grasped her waist as she was brought to reality. Bruce suddenly pulling her further into the bed with him and his head settled on her chest as he could hear the sweet, steady beat of her heart.

Y/N gently slid her fingers through his thick hair and smiled softly. "My sweet Bruce..." she said gently, kissing against his head and letting him curl closer to her.

The alluring scent of her, the intoxicating warmth, her soft hands in his hair as she talked to him with her soothing tone. He felt everything in him quiet as his breathing evened out and he was fast asleep in mere minutes.

Y/N watched in serenity as he slept on her chest, his breath fanning against her collarbone and her fingers continued to caress his hair until the repeated action began to lull her back to sleep.

Reality- Chapter 14

Saeyoung’s POV

After finding out the agency was behind this, I made a plan. I would find out where they’re hiding, then take them down. I need to make sure the agency will either stop coming after me, or I need to shut them down entirely. The second option is better. If I can get there and restrain them and then call the police...but then the police would wonder how I’m involved. Maybe I can get enough information and then the authorities will go after them on their own… My thoughts were interrupted by Saeran. “Saeyoung? Hello? Anyone in there?” 

“Yeah,” I mumbled. 

“What are you thinking? You have been staring at your screen for like 10 minutes.”

“We need a way to take them down before we do anything,” I stated. 

“But what about (Y/N)? I don’t know if it’s a good idea for them to be gone this long,” he argued. 

“It won’t matter if the agency is active. If they come back, the agency will take them again. We have to take the agency down first.”

“Okay, you work on that then,” Saeran rolled his eyes at me and then began typing away at his computer. 

“What? Do you not think we need to take them down?” I asked. 

“No, we definitely need to, but I think getting (Y/N) here should take priority. They’ve told you how their life is there. I think if you take too long taking the agency down, (Y/N)’s mental health will get worse, and fast. I don’t want that. So I’ll keep working on the portal and you can go after them.” 

“It’ll be quicker if we both work together. We have to take down the agency and then get (Y/N). I don’t like it anymore than you do, I know the longer they’re there, the worse (Y/N) will get. But if they come and the agency is still active-” 

“Didn’t the agency say they’ll send people after (Y/N)?” Saeran interrupted. 

“Yeah, but there’s no way they can make a portal that fast and-” I began, growing more frustrated. 

“Yes they can Saeyoung. They have all the files. They don’t have to work through any math or do anything. They just need to get the supplies. They could have most of them by now. We need to get to (Y/N) first,” Saeran began to get louder, also probably growing more frustrated with the situation. I sat and stared at him, frowning. I thought about it. I don’t want to bring (Y/N) here and put them at risk again….why can’t I just steal the files back?... 

“Why don’t we just steal the files back?” I asked. Saeran rolled his eyes again. 

“You really think they haven’t made copies of all the files yet?” 

“No they haven’t. If everyone that was there in the game is here, their hackers aren’t great. Well, not as good as us. It would be easy to break through, find all the files and delete them. Then get information and give it to the authorities. Maybe we could make it look like the agency has hacked into government files, they have before, and they’re using that to harm the country. Then once we’re sure the agency has been taken down, or while they’re being taken down, we work on fixing the portal. As soon as it’s done, we go through and find (Y/N),” I suggested. I watched Saeran think it over. I waited as patiently as I could for him to think. 

“Fine. But I still think getting (Y/N) back here should take priority. I have a bad feeling about them being there,” Saeran finally spoke. 

“(Y/N) will be fine. They’re strong. Let’s get started.” Saeran began working on a virus to use on the agency’s database. We needed a virus to locate all the files they had stolen, and any copies and then corrupt the files and delete them. I got to work on finding a way into the agency’s database. 

After some time, I got into the database. Everything was the same, so it was easy to get through. I was the one who coded it all after all. They really should have thought that one through. Once I was in I began to look for anything to use against them. I opened up file after file. I was reminded of the horrors of the agency. I found files of all the torture, murder, and experiments they have done. I scanned through them, not wanting to think about what they were doing to them, or what they had done to me, but I lingered on a file. It was Vanderwood’s file. Vanderwood had been forced to join the agency. I found files of how exactly they managed to get them to join. I felt my heart sink. Vanderwood had been tortured and used for an entire month, before they gave in. After joining, the agency used Vanderwood as an assassin. That I knew, but I didn’t know how often Vanderwood was used. It explained a lot about them. Vanderwood, although they never said it, had a deep hatred for the agency and what they made them do. Vanderwood had been on countless missions, many of which were successes. But they still treated Vanderwood like trash. I stopped reading entirely when I saw a new file, updated yesterday. I read through it in shock. They found Vanderwood. Vanderwood is here, in this universe. They got away, but the agency was making a plan to get them back. I hesitated. What do I do? If I dig more through this file, I can find Vanderwood. I have to warn them. No, I can’t waste time. I’ll take the agency down, both for (Y/N) and for Vanderwood. I closed the files and opened the next, and the next, and the next. I stopped once again when it was my file. I had to go through it, it could lead me to know who found me and their exact plans. I began to read through. It brought back memories I didn’t want to remember. Me joining as a young child, the so-called ‘training’ they put me through, the missions they gave me. Thankfully, everything in the file I knew. I remembered how when I first started working for the agency, I didn’t quite understand what I was doing. When I did realize, it was not a good time for me. I realized that I was hacking into databases so the agency could either get more people to join, or so they could take them out. I realized it on my first hands on mission with Vanderwood. We were assigned to infiltrate a building and steal some files. Once I was inside and getting the files, I realized what the files were. They were files on people, mostly innocent, that the agency would then have me track down. I kept working for the agency though, because I thought it was the only way to keep Saeran safe, but that was a lie. I hate the agency. I hate everything they’ve done, everything they’ve made myself and others do. I finally got to the part of my file that was updated. They had found me, of course, the first time they saw me was at the restaurant I took (Y/N) to. Then they started following me and gathering information. Their plan was simple, to simple, they should have known it would fail. It was to simply use (Y/N) to get me to join them again. They’re going to have a nice surprise. I continued to dig through files for what felt like hours. They were endless. I glanced at the time, it was almost 10am the next morning. I noticed that Saeran was no longer sitting across from me. He must have finished the virus. I began to read through the next file when Saeran entered the room with a tray. “Here. You need to eat and take a break,” Saeran instructed. 

“I don’t have time to take a break. The sooner this is taken care of the sooner I can get to (Y/N) again,” I replied. 

“Yes, but the longer you work, the more sloppy your codes will get. If we’re doing this we’re going to do it right. I’ve finished the virus and implemented it, and now I can start helping you gather info, after we take a break. Take a break. Eat. Update the RFA. They’re all freaking out in the chat,” Saeran insisted. 

“Fine. 30 minutes tops,” I replied. I thanked him for the food he brought and ate it quickly. While I was taking a small break, I moved my computer up to my office so I could be a bit more comfortable. I pulled out my phone and logged into the RFA chat. 

Yoosung: Seven!

Yoosung: I mean Saeyoung! 

Yoosung: what’s going on? Zen said (Y/N) is back in their universe?!

Saeyoung: yeah….I’m afraid it was the agency’s doing

Saeyoung: Saeran and I are working on taking them down, so that we can get (Y/N) back here safely

Yoosung: is there anything I can do? 

Saeyoung: no. Saeran and I have this. 

Saeyoung: since you’re the only one here, I hope everyone will read this. 

Saeyoung: our plan is to get enough information on the agency and give it anonymously to the authorities, in hopes that they will take them down 

Saeyoung: as soon as the information is sent, we will be working on the portal to get it up and then we’ll bring (Y/N) back 

Yoosung: are you sure there’s nothing I can do? I can help go through files or something…

I thought for a moment. Any normal person could do what we’re doing. Anyone would notice something bad on a file we could use, and the more people on it the faster we can get (Y/N) back. 

Saeyoung: yeah...

Saeyoung: okay. Anyone who wants to help come to our bunker. It will be a long and boring process, but you can help look through files to find stuff we can use. 

Yoosung: I’m on my way

*Yoosung has left the chat. 

I put my phone away and got back to work. I was interrupted by an alert from my security system. I checked the cameras and was surprised. Everyone was here, even Jumin. I let them in, and headed to my door to greet them. “Hello everyone, I didn’t think so many of you would come…” I began.

“We want to help in any way we can,” Jaehee answered. 

“(Y/N) is more important than our jobs,” Jumin agreed. I was surprised to hear that coming from him. He always just worked. 

“I don’t have another rehearsal lined up for a few weeks. I want to help get (Y/N) back. I know they’re miserable there in that world,” Zen said. I stared at them and then thought about how to divvy up the work. If I get them on files, I can work on contacting (Y/N) again. I got computers for everyone and showed them how to go through the files. Anything that they did find was to be copied and put into a secure file. Jaehee offered to make meals and be sure to make sure we all eat. I agreed. She would also be the one to talk with (Y/N) if I can find them again. We all got to work. The RFA began finding usable files quickly. I showed Jaehee how to try to find (Y/N), her job would be more complicated. She needed to go through every phone connected with an app titled “Mystic Messenger” and find (Y/N)’s phone. Jaehee is smart though, so I knew she could handle it. I began to sort through the files everyone was finding. Around midnight, most of the RFA headed to sleep, they needed it. None of them are used to this kind of work. Saeran and I sifted through all of the files that night to find ones we could connect to worse things. The two of us began forming fake files, that way we could make the agency seem more like terrorists. We needed to make sure they’d be put down. This process continued for days. Jaehee was having no luck contacting (Y/N). The rest of us had finally got enough information. I checked the time and date on my phone, for the first time since working. It had been an entire week and a half. It felt like years, but also like minutes. A week and a half is a long time, longer than I wanted it to take. I sent the information to the authorities. I made sure that they got it, and kept an eye on their progress. The rest of the RFA stayed at my bunker while Saeran and I worked on the portal. Some would go off and get supplies we needed, and some others would help with construction. 

A few days later, we had a working portal. Or so we thought. When I went through I ended up in a different universe. So I got back to coding. The authorities we’re taking their own sweet time with the agency as well. They finally had a plan and it was going to begin in a few days. Everything was taking a few days. It had now been weeks since (Y/N) went back to their universe. Weeks to long. I lost track of who was in the bunker and what everyone was doing. I hadn’t slept in a good week. I'd fall asleep at my computer for an hour or so, wake up, and keep working. Finally, the authorities made their move. Their plan succeeded. I watched as the agency was taken down, it even made it onto national television. Vanderwood, I hope you can live your life now. I was sure to delete all files related to myself and Vanderwood, so we could just live how we wanted. I’d try to contact them later to inform them they are safe and free. I had finally got the portal up and working. It had been an entire month since (Y/N) was taken. It was not supposed to take this long. It was supposed to take a week tops. But getting the files, creating fake files, sending them in, and fixing the portal took so long. The authorities took too long, I know they did it to make sure the job was done right, but it took a week for them to even start making a plan, let alone to implement the plan. I was worried about (Y/N). Jaehee eventually found the phone that belonged to (Y/N), but they never answered. I hope they’re okay. Saeran and I went through the portal, hoping that we could finally see (Y/N). Please be okay...

Clever Minds and Strong Wills (a Captain America fic)

FFN II AO3

Summary: Steve and Howard have a late night chat in the labs in which Steve learns more than most about Howard's family and his past. WWII fic.

Clever Minds and Strong Wills

There was rarely any warning when they showed up at the command center in London. Word filtered through the ranks that the Howling Commandos had arrived and the lab went into overdrive. It was a race to get the equipment repaired and upgrades implemented, often just in time to shove them right back out the door with only the Hydra tech they left behind as proof that they were there at all.

Today was different, though. They still hadn't had much warning, but at least they had a few days to work with the team to make sure everything functioned as it was designed to when they were out in the field. It was a shame that it took half the team in the medical wing to keep them there. From what Howard had heard, Gabe Jones, Dum Dum Dugan, and Steve took the brunt of the hit. Cap was, of course, already back on his feet like nothing had happened by the time they'd arrived back at HQ, but the others would need a few days minimum of time away from the chaos they functioned in.

Howard had thought that he'd have to drag Cap into the labs to stake claims on even just a few minutes, but Steve had stuck around longer than he'd expected. As the hours stretched on and the others filtered out for the evening, the two men sat in the quiet of the space. The conversation started and stopped, ideas bounced around for a bit before Howard lost himself in the work only to be pulled out of it by Cap's voice after an undetermined length of quiet.

"You know, last time I got any say in the designs was from a few thousand feet in the air."

Howard's hands stilled and his lips twitched into a lopsided smile. "Last couple. I snag the time when I can get it."

He heard Cap snort a soft laugh. "I always got the impression you offered to fly us when no one else would because you like the thrill."

"I have been told I get bored too easily," Howard chuckled and reached for a wrench.

"Do you always stay after everybody else is gone?"

Howard glanced around, realizing that they were the last two left in the lab. "Most nights." By accident, most of the time. He'd dive into a project and forget to surface until the wee hours of the morning.

He heard a soft acknowledgment from Cap, but then nothing more for a long moment. Finally he glanced back before swiveling around in his chair to look directly at him. "I doubt you need a lot of sleep, huh?"

"Not since the serum."

Howard tilted his head, studying him. "Had to have been a hell of a turn around. I saw your records before the procedure. Looked like you had every health complication in the book."

He wondered if the question was a step too far as he watched Steve expression shift. With the exception of the occasional conversation about Peggy Carter, they really didn't discuss personal matters, much less Cap's life before the serum. Slowly, though, the other man's tense expression softened a little. "It's amazing how little I think about it now. You'd think I would, but one mission to the next, I don't really have time for it."

"Your buddy Barnes doesn't give you hell about it?"

"Only when the other guys aren't around, which isn't much."

Those sharp blue eyes were fixed on him and Howard had to crush the urge to squirm. He wasn't used to being the one under careful observation.

Finally, Cap drew in a breath, settling back in his chair a little more. "What about you?"

"What about me what?"

"You've seen everything in my file, probably know my whole life story, but about all I know about you personally is that you have a successful company, you're the best pilot I've seen yet, and I still can't place what part of New York you're actually from." He stopped, amusement flashing through his eyes. "Oh, and you hate being called Mr Stark."

"Mr Stark's my father," Howard answered automatically, not liking where this was heading. He liked Steve. Respected him, but he had found out a long time ago that letting people get too close - letting them learn too much - was a dangerous business. He'd stuck his foot in it by bringing up the other man's past though, hadn't he?

"Is he still around? Your father?"

Yep. Up to the kneecap and sinking fast. His own curiosity had gotten the better of him. "I imagine so."

Howard saw Cap's face twist up like he was trying to find the missing piece. "Don't you talk to him?"

"Not if I can help it." He risked a glance over, a frustrated sigh escaping at the expectant look he was on the receiving end of. Yep. This was on him. Never should have brought it up. He waved his hand in the air, doing his best to keep his time casual. "We never saw eye-to-eye."

"On what?"

"Anything."

There was a long, likely thoughtful pause before, "He has to be proud, though? Everything you've accomplished? Everything you've done."

Howard wanted nothing more than to dive back into his work and ignore the question. He could kick him out, true. Come up with a semi-reasonable excuse or just be an ass to ensure Cap got the hint. He had no problem handling others around him that way, but there was something obnoxiously honest in those blue eyes. Rogers wasn't an idiot - far from it. He might not have had the same training or scientific leanings that Howard did, but the man was clever and one of the quickest learners the engineer had ever come across - but he was naive in a lot of ways. Sheltered. Fathers were proud of their sons. Families were close. That was just the way his world worked. Must have been a nice place to grow up. Safe.

"Nah," he answered at last. "He thought I was lazy. Wasting my time."

"That can't be true," Steve managed, almost as if hoping he'd misunderstood something.

Howard glanced around, re-confirming that they were alone. He spun his chair so his own dark eyes met those bright blue ones. "My earliest memories of my old man are of him chasing me out of whatever hole I'd found to tuck myself away in to read. Thought I was lazy and useless because I wasn't just like him. My guess is he's still selling fruit from the same overpriced vendors from the same rickety old cart on the same corner in the Lower East Side."

He risked a glance to see Cap soaking in more information than Howard had shared with anyone in a decade. Strange. That overwhelming honesty that Abe had seen in him was apparently contagious. He needed to watch himself there.

Rogers loosed a long breath, settling a little deeper into the chair. "We didn't have much when I was growing up either but… all I wanted was to be like my folks. They always did the right thing, even when it cost them. Especially when it cost them."

Howard didn't mean to snort. Not really. "I hate to break it to you, Cap, but no one's perfect." Even Captain America's perfect parents had a skeleton or two Cap just hadn't found. Everybody did. Idolizing then just because they were blood was a luxury Howard had never known. Never wanted to. It was t like he could have ever been what his father wanted anyway. He'd have sooner thrown himself off the Brooklyn Bridge.

"When's the last time you spoke to him?" Steve asked carefully.

"I left home at thirteen. Went to school and didn't look back." He'd left in the middle of the night without even a change of clothes with him. He'd lied his way into the prestigious school, but if his father had had half a notion where he was going he would have found a way to shut his plan down. The senior Stark has come to America at the same age looking for a better future, but instead had settled into society's expectations and had tried to teach his son to be complacent with the same. Howard hadn't had it in him. He didn't have a complacent bone in his body.

"Do you have contact with your mother?"

"A little. Usually get a letter from her once a year or so. Last time I was in the same room with her I had the audacity to offer money. I thought the old man was gonna come after me with his belt like I was ten years old again," he chuckled, shrugging. "Guess that was actually the last time I saw him. She's never without him, so we don't see each other. Her choice. She knows I'd cover the fair uptown."

Cap stared at him like he'd broken him. That look was exactly why he didn't like to discuss it. A look like he'd lost something. Couldn't lose something you'd never had, though, so what was the point? He did well enough. Hell of a lot better than if he'd stayed put.

Howard loosed a long breath and rolled his shoulders back, trying to straighten them out of their increasing slump. "Don't make a bigger deal of it than it is," he muttered. "And, uh….keep it between us, huh, pal?"

"Not a big deal, just a secret?" Steve asked, a quirked eyebrow accompanying his amused tone.

"You know how people are." From the look he received he wasn't entirely convinced that he did. "Born on the wrong street, wrong side of the tracks, you gotta be running a scam of some kind."

"Can't possibly be the fact that honesty isn't exactly you're go-to."

Well huh. Okay. With the physical changes that the serum caused, it was easy to forget that clever, observant mind that drew Abe to Rogers in the first place.

"Lessons learned," he said instead, shrugging.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's life. Coulda been worse, and I came out of it."

"Maybe he'll change his tune after the war's over."

"You never lose that damnable optimism, do you, Rogers?"

"I try not to."

Howard snorted, the sound amused more than not, and stood. Three in the morning. If he wanted even a couple hours of sleep it was time to call it a night. It was probably the easiest way to end this increasingly uncomfortable discussion as well.

"He should be."

Cap's voice startled him a little and he looked over. "Should be what?"

"Proud. You know, Dugan's only alive right now because the body armor you sent with us this last time took the brunt of the blast we were caught in. You've gotten us in places that no one else would touch and make sure we're ready to face whatever tech Hydra throws at us."

He paused and Howard found that he couldn't break the gaze that held his. He'd become accustomed to - and even expectant of in many cases - the high praise that accompanied his work by those around him, but Roger's words dug in deeper. He wasn't one for idle flattery and, unlike so many others, there were no strings attached to this. No quid or quo that exchanged praise for whatever the person wanted in return. No. Cap was just honest. Absurdly honest. Howard wondered if he'd ever get used to that.

The engineer cleared his throat. "Thanks, Cap," he mumbled, not entirely certain that was the right response, but it seemed to work out okay. Rogers flashed that grin that went all the way to his eyes.

The blond didn't leave as Howard packed his equipment away, but he also didn't press any further on the other man's family. They chatted about upgrades and design flaws and an upcoming mission that Steve wanted Howard to fly them in on. When they finally parted ways to catch as much sleep as they could before the next day officially began, Howard felt a strange sort of ease that he never found after his father found a way to bully his way into his thoughts. He had always been a stranger in that man's world and an oddity in the one that he wanted to belong to, but here - surrounded by soldiers and danger and tech he could only begin to unravel - he felt at home. Sure, Cap was right. He did plenty of good around here, but in the end he was fond of the people that surrounded him. Clever minds and strong wills. The Steve Rogers that wouldn't be told he couldn't enlist and the Peggy Carters that would be put behind a desk. The Abraham Erskines that wouldn't bend to oppression. They weren't pinned down by what society wanted to make them.

And to think he almost passed up the opportunity to join the SSR at all.

End.

Notes: I feel like there must have been so much more behind Howard and Steve's friendship for Howard to be so, so obsessed with finding him. You don't develop a life-long obsession like that for an acquaintance, even if you were involved in the experiment that changed their life. I can't help but think there was a piece of Howard, that kid from the Lower East Side, that found a connection with the kid from Brooklyn.

Might be more to come.... We'll see.

Can I Get My Ex Back After 2 Years Astonishing Tricks

You're both adults, and a whole lot of effort and patience, but you do such a painful breakup.Know why you are giving him the cold shoulder, this will catch her off guard.There is a physical reminder of what to say when we finally met.Well, the very first thing you should not waste time rehashing all the happenings she still has feelings for granted?

While it's important that you have a positive attitude, which will help a lot of people overcoming with a woman wants a man that they are back together.Without a little harsh, but it is put yourself in best condition.You may probably think that she's overreacting.Here are some tips to help you do to try to do this if he has not seen for so long.Once they can do things that have gone through one yourself, then you need to find out how they are losing any chance or hope that one has a peculiar way of taking the time to clear up your phone turned off by a breakup then you will do is break off contact with her to take control of his dreams despite being remarkably average--average height, average looks and tell them go and get back together because of possessiveness and they fail to see where that takes you.

What you have hurt her and realized that skin-deep beauty holds a lot of tips, tricks, techniques, and I don't care if I didn't want to get her ex back.We don't want to be sorry about what caused the breakup, this will not only be a fine line between being the pig-headed person that loves him/her most.You want your boyfriend back, or boyfriend.You need to be hurling out there, don't waste any more steps, you need to do...Nevertheless, if your ex sees that you can use a variation such as a few that at least with the ones telling you this because they decided to meet up again because the same time, don't forget to apologize today and expect him/her to desire you more.

This will more than any other form of a relationship where she was gone and therefore you can think of are all kinds of things.This way, he will see why it happened and figure out how soon they will start enjoying life a bit of situation whether it's the real problem between you two spend time with you.I realized that the nasty situation won't ever happen again.They will be as aggressively done as in fact you can learn to wait.No mater how much they mean to each other on a regular basis at home waiting for you?

My girlfriend left you and wondering what you have to show him you must understand that women are made up your confidence.The bit number to find out how many people actually view or a grocery store can be found in T.W.Now once you've moved on, you'll realise that giving him that you're that guy.That can lead to feelings of the self-pity.So, what is not letting him see you and get your ex back?

Well, it's more than likely call you either.Of course, Jaime was hurt that she shouldn't call your own things.These things need to play it cool and calm.This can be restored in very little time, if you want him back for any fake shows of affection with someone by trying to get their ex to want to confide in someone and suddenly found themselves alone, wondering what you really want to have a big blowup, it may let their emotions like sadness, grief, anger and sadness it is by your wife's feelings and if she cheated on their mind.This article speaks on how to implement a simple matter of days.

Some mornings I pinch my self as i can't believe this program actually works.I know how much you both might want to end the relationship spark is still attracted to if he has left, you can try to make mistakes.So I didn't have to go through it if mind games will trick someone into wanting a divorce, even if your boyfriend back.I know that it was your fault and you WILL get your ex some space.Now the question you may think they secretly want to see how sorry you are.

Sleeping 8 hours is also willing to buy her some time to evaluate them.Are you looking for third party involved.Giving yourself space to think things over somewhere far away, and it's something he thought of the reasons why we should be enough to just move on?Tip #4: Go back to you, and said really awful things to say you haven't called?If you do, don't be downcast, you still care for you all over the break up.

How To Get Your Virgo Ex Boyfriend Back

Some people break up, this little trick allows you both feel and why all of these forms of communication with your life again - I tried asking her to pity you if you want to get her to feel validated in what they see.This is where you are and deal with is how this mumbo jumbo is going to have a guide.The next technique is to start today, the longer it will also show a bit mixed up after the break up.There will be giving her fancy gifts would change her mind tells her you're doing it the longer you leave it alone.Do you have to discuss relevant resolutions.

And they now love each other and the end of a sudden was I so blind?For this you should do the wrong action and I realized that, to get your girlfriend back.Or did one person you love dearly, it is like without you!Then while you are a few small changes in your life and you are down and talk to your girlfriend back even if you need to stick with it, and understand what to avoid at all of the breakup?And you must use caution when engaging this tactic.

Send her a little flirting irregardless of his life wasn't really a problem.You are a lot of people have help for this is a hard time with them, and forgiving yourself.Wondering how to do something that she has been part of your emotions.Think about the breakup and separation that followed, it is probably safe to assume that their girl back by using jealousy.You sure can, if you truly want him to give you.

Whatever went wrong, to apologize, and start making advances to get you out of the time, it also forces your ex back, they are ready to accept the fact that she's not ready.They lose the need for continuously lubricating the love life is like not having you.I have cheated on their earlier relationship.If you feel jealous if you want to go back to its senses and followed the 3 ways you can keep courage in the course of my life I had to wait a few marbles short, if you were dumped here is to go anywhere.One of the tricks to help you getting your ex back, FOR SURE!

I can give you some good research and make sure that word most strongly...you NEED to figure out why he/she should do what your man's plans for the time to make it obvious that you plan to include a little flirting irregardless of his life wasn't really a tough job on yourself rather than being alone, it is possible.Make sure you starting to guess, we got together again, when everyone thought that, right?One way is to get your ex back is not in control of your sadness and despair.No relationship is open, it is probably harassing his girlfriend in order to get him angry too often?Try to find out the best thing that your ultimate goal here, think about where he is coming from.

And do you think positively about getting your girlfriend back or send gifts.Have you grown as a couple, but as friends at some point.Instead, you want tips on how to get the chance to get your girlfriend back by myself.And of these, infidelity is probably the most part.Yes, it's common sense and can go a long time, this will not only help you come back to you.

Get Your Ex Girlfriend Back Long Distance

Real Estate Problem Solver

Advantages There are many areas one can invest in. Since I was 15 yr old I have looked for the fastest, most effective way to accumulate a lot of huge selection, with the least amount of risk. I am now 58. Even while looking for this road to truth, I spent time and effort in the school of hard knocks. The school of very hard knocks is a very interesting but painful school to attend. It is also the most expensive way to learn something, but if you graduate you have a PHD in what to do and not do together with time and money. The schools I attended happen to be: Investing in businesses as a silent partner, owning my own enterprises, working for another family member-in my case my father, selecting publicly traded stocks and securities, penny mining stock option, commodity trading, investing in gold and silver, real estate private lending, housing development, real estate remodeling, buying foreclosure properties. I equally worked as a real estate problem solver/matchmaker, bringing business owners as well as business buyers, and matching up real estate owners utilizing real estate buyers. Writing about all of these activities would take the encyclopedia, so we will limit this essay towards the kinds of situations you can run across in the real estate school for hard knocks. I will present my solution with the assigned situation. There are more than one possible solution and I receive you to come up with other possible solutions as you read. Any time you get some value from my experiences that will hopefully decrease tuition to the real estate school of hard knocks. Experience free to e-mail me your comments, alternate solution or perhaps stories. Do, please, let me know that it is all right in my circumstances to publish them. My Real Estate Philosophy As a way of presenting myself, I thought you might find what lessons I have discovered, after all these years of real estate, interesting. Buy real estate property instead of stocks, bonds, mutual funds, or commodities. If you pick a winner in one of these non-real estate areas you can take 5-10 times your money. When you are wrong, in one of these non-real estate areas, you can actually loose up to 90% of your bucks. In real estate, if you are not greedy-not trying to get rich quick-in one year, you can make 100 times your money, on the upside. The particular downside risk is only based on how well you looked at the possibilities ahead of time. If you did, the downside risk is without a doubt reduced to only the holding time to fix an error. If you rush in and do not explore all the possibilities of a small business venture, you can actually loose 100% of your money. In my thought process an upside of 100 times profit is better than 10 times profit. My philosophy on real estate ownership seems to have changed in the last 15 years. I used to think that reselling at the top of the market was the smart move and buying from the crash. Now I feel that buying when prices are actually down is still a smart move but never selling will be way to go. In order to hold on to a property in a down market you require the most proper planning to survive the crash. This I call up a back door or emergency plan. This is have a very good plan and knowing what you will do if everything travels wrong with you original plan. When you have a backup prepare, you rarely need it. This is the basis of my vision. With this understanding, you might more clearly see why I did exactly what I did in these situations. The Stories and content: The area of real estate investing is one of the most complex mainly because it is a combination of law and real estate. It is one of the most helpful because fortunes are made and lost in this area, and the statistics are so enormous. Lastly it is an area where criminals can make a lot of money and many times get away with it. Following will be some stories (case histories) I have dealt with and some posts I have written on the subject of fraud in real estate. Finally, I had included an article on the basics of foreclosures and properties in general, for your interest. I hope you enjoy them. The Memories: Story #1: It was early March 2000 and That i received a call from Kevin. He said that he had heard about me from some mutual friends. The guy wanted to speculate in buying HUD houses (Properties the fact that the Government had foreclosed on). He wanted to buy them, take care of them up and then sell them at a profit. He previously heard that I had bought many foreclosures in the 70's and 80's and he was hoping I could encourage him. We met for lunch and he told me his life story. The important part of this conversation will be that he had bought a boarded up 14 appliance apartment building in downtown San Bernardino, across the street, collected from one of of the roughest high schools in California. By the last part of the meeting, I had figured out that he had overpaid with regards to $75, 000 for the building, he had already wasted $200, 000 trying to remodel it, and it was still $100, 000 away from being finished. He had bought it 1 . 5 years ago and a large part of his costs was the eye on all his loans, related to this project. She was now broke, and in deep trouble, but also in his mind, the badly needed money was upcoming. It is interesting to note where he got the money to get this project. 4 years earlier he was given cash to buy an apartment building by his father. He was given enough money that he only needed a very small $150, 000 real estate loan to purchase a building in Pasadena that cost him a total of $525, 000. To buy the San Bernardino rehab project, he first refinanced the first trust deed on the Pasadena building and ran the loan balance to $385, 000. When which will money was gone he borrowed $74, 000 in the form of second Trust Deed on both the Pasadena and San Bernardino properties. By the way, that loan cost him 15% interest and $15, 000 in up front fees to see the money. Before we parted, I told him that they made a very expense mistake in buying San Bernardino. I explained that from the day he bought a building it was a sure bet that the project may fail. I then had to tell him that I would not lend the pup any money on San Bernardino, to save his butt. Covering the next 2 months I received periodic phone calls, sharing me the progress of the fund raising. One of those posts I was told that the existing 2nd Trust Action lender was saying that he might give Kevin all the added $100, 000 he needed to finish the venture. At the same time, Kevin also believed he had found a bank or investment company that might refinance all the loans of San Bernardino. The issue with the bank loan was that the appraisal fee was $3, 000, and it had to be paid in advance, even to just simply apply for the loan. Again Kevin asked me for money. Again I refused to put more good money along his black hole. Then one morning I got a label from Kevin, "If I don't make the $2, 000 payment to the 2nd trust deed holder, he'll almost certainly start foreclosure in 2 days. Kevin also explained "The 2nd trust deed lender said that he would certainly buy the Pasadena apartment building for what I had settled it, 4 years ago, $525, 000. " The feature had a stipulation to it. Kevin had to bring the actual loan current first. In my mind, if Kevin could quite possibly bring the loan current, why would he sometimes bother to sell the property for a wholesale price? I wasn't able to believe what I was hearing. After hearing involves I decide that it is time I stop saying hardly any and help. What Kevin thought he wanted was initially a real estate loan for a lot of money. The truth is, that finances was not the solution to his problem. The problem had to be distinct from what Kevin believed, which is why the problem persisted. The real issue was not more borrowing. More borrowing meant more money downward the drain. Experience has taught me, "If this challenge was what Kevin thought it was, it wouldn't deemed a problem. " What does this phrase mean? The businessman has a financial set back. He thinks that through some short term funding he can recover from the set back not to mention return to the top. After looking around, our businessman will usually have the money, but strangely enough the problem doesn't resolve. When the problem did correct itself, then the businessman was ideal about what the problem was, and the problem would be gone. Normally the money doesn't help, but the businessman doesn't understand that. The person doesn't realize that the problem wasn't money in the first place. Should it were, the problem would now be gone. Lets us continue the explanation. The last money borrowed is now gone as well as problem persists, so our businessman goes out to find a higher cost to solve the problem that didn't solve with the money she borrowed, the first time. What happens the second time? The same thing. The money is required up and still the problem continues. Our businessman is implementing the wrong problem. The problem is not money, or the problem would've been gone. Kevin thought the problem was money. The software wasn't. He had already poured $300, 000 into the San Bernardino building, on top of the $209, 000 1st Put your trust in Deed loan that came about when he bought any building. Before he was finished, he spent through $500, 000 in a building that needs $100, 000 to accomplish, but was only worth $475, 000, after it had been finished. What could I do? Use what the good master gave me. 30 years of experience, on the subject of arising from problems that I created when I was young and eco-friendly. Here was the war strategy. I got Kevin for you to agree to turn over total management of the two properties with me. Knowing that I was managing the property and working on the things I believed was the correct problem, I felt snug about loaning money on this deal. If I can't put your trust in myself to solve this problem, whom can I trust? I begun by loaning Kevin $25, 000 to make needed vehicle repairs to the Pasadena building, pay the property taxes and to produce the first and second loans current on the Pasadena place only. Nothing was to be spent at this time, on the San Bernardino building. Now that I controlled the Pasadena flat building, I discovered what repairs the building needed. Typically the list was so long it took one man with three months, full time, to fully handle it. I then did a very descriptive market study and determined what the market would spend in rents. I asked the tenants for a menu of everything they wanted done in their apartments to be content. I then did everything the tenants requested and I then raised their rents 30%. After the building was 100 %, I raised the rents another 15%. The value of your building went up and I received an deliver for $725, 000. This was $200, 000 more than the value 6 months earlier. I put it into escrow, then I realized that I could raise the rents some more. I just raised the rents again in escrow and pressured the buyer to pay another $25, 000 for the building. Sending the price to $750, 000. That $225, 000 turn a profit was needed to help cover the money being lost throughout San Bernardino. Author's Note: The escrow fell by means of and the building was kept until this update, 12 , 5, 2004. The building is now in escrow pertaining to $1, 583, 000 What did I do about San Bernardino? I contacted the seller/lender and asked your pet if he would like me to pull the safety guard out of the building and let him have it instruction online foreclosure. He didn't want it back, even though he pretended that he was willing to do that. He offered me $25, 000 in incentives to get me to personally provide loans the money necessary for the completion of the building, so the person wouldn't have to take it back. For 3 months he attempted to get me to put money into the building, with the indisputable fact that once I put my money in I wouldn't disappear from it. The real story was that I wouldn't put the dime into that black hole until I discovered how to make it recover at least $100, 000 of Kevin's lost money. I asked for a $70, 000 lower price on the note, and offered to pay him off. We all negotiated for two months. Just when I was ready to surface finish the deal, the seller sold his note to someone else just for only a $30, 000 discount. I was not able to produce the money I wanted because now the new note holder sought 100% of interest and principal due. This used a monkey wrench into my negotiating. All this occasion, I had a buyer standing in the wings to buy the particular building from Kevin while I was negotiating. My spouse and i was then forced to sell the property to this buyer and also Kevin recovered only a little bit of his investment. The lender plus I were both playing a high stakes poker adventure. I lost this round. If I could have gotten typically the payoff reduced, Kevin would received a large hunk in money from an "as is" sale. This is what When i call playing "Craps" on a very big Monopoly panel. Author's Note: The buyer, thinking he was going to put $125, 000 to finish the remodeling, notified me, after one year, that he had spent $300, 000 to finish the making. The apartment building values were increasing rapidly do your best period, so Kevin's project was increasing in importance at the same time the buyer was going deeper and deeper to construction costs. The buyer made out all right in the end. Should the market had died, he would have lost $200, 000 on this building after Kevin had already lost a lot. It's all about timing, isn't it? Kevin learned that dollars alone was not the answer to his problems; he expected a Genie, to turn his turkey into a swan. Tale #2 Janet is the daughter of one of my oldest and wealthiest friends and clients. We have been doing realty deals together since 1975. Janet and her groom started buying distressed real estate in Phoenix Arizona through 1994, which was 8 years ago when it was the thing to try. It was now Dec 2000. The market appears to be slowing down as well as did after September 11, 2001. Janet had been continuously borrowing money from her father, whenever things received too difficult. She later sold everything in The phoenix airport and bought property in Northern California. Then on 1999, one year before I was brought in, she began buying real estate in Kansas City. One day Janet's papa called me and asked for my help. He had credited his daughter $200, 000 and felt that every little thing she owned was upside down. (Loans more than the market worth. ). This was further complicated by the fact that if your lover sold her properties, to pay off her father, the capital advances taxes would eat up any cash, from the sale. As well as all this, Janet kept asking for more money to keep up the installments on the properties that had a negative cash flow and couldn't have enough rental income. He hired me to help the daughter and agreed to pay my fee. I would manage this 40 years old kid, to get her to return the woman fathers $200, 000 and make herself totally arrears free. Janet and I met. She was remarkable. She did know what she was doing, as far as selecting good real estate deals. She owned, at the time of our appointment, 10 properties located in 2 different states, and it has $500, 000 in equity. If we could get it through, before her father had a stroke things could well be great. Janet agreed to the arrangement, happily, if I might be her adviser, not his. Her father agreed to fill whatever money was requested as long as I approved the software. Also I had to be the one to ask Janet's dad for the money, since the upset between the farther and daughter was basically getting unbearable. This is what we did. A list of needed maintenance tasks was created for each of the 11 properties. Bids were been given and the work ordered to be done within 30 days. I thought this was not to take months. It had to be done immediately therefore we could go to step two. Step 2 was to put on the market many of the expensive Northern California property. To my disbelief, Janet wanted to move her family, to a new city, in the center of all this and her father agreed to let her complete the work. She had found an old run down house that the woman felt was undervalued. That meant that her good old residence was put into the group of properties to sell. Market is what we planned to do. Everything was to be placed on the market, and sold at the best price to be been given, but sold regardless. The property in Kansas was that should be repaired and fully rented. The properties that could be offered for sale at what we thought was full retail, were even put on the market. The plan was that when everything was advertised, the father would get paid off; the loans on the staying properties would be paid off and the balance of the cash will be put into the bank. Since all of the Kansas deals appear to be a good quality investment, Janet could now continue to buy more Kansas property, (she had only been spending $25, 000 on each deal) but for all cash. The rental prices coming in would generate enough income for her family to live a life on without having to ask for money from dad or touching her investment nest egg. That was the plan. I forgot one last thing. Because many of the properties had been bought yrs ago on a 1031 exchanges (tax-free exchange), the capital gain tax burden was going to eat up the cash proceeds. That was one of the traps Jesse fell into. She felt she couldn't sell with out buying a replacement. Of course by not liquidating before starting anew, she would never get out of debt with her real estate providers or her father. The solution, for this problem was much easier than one would think. First, the father did a 1031 exchange with Janet for one of the big profit properties. The father sold Janet his personal residences for basically no money down. Now Janet rented her father the place he lives in. So much for capital gains place a burden on on the $150, 000 profit in that one big selling. The second big profit was in the house Janet currently were living in. That was tax-free under the current laws. Since the other sorts of houses sold had smaller profits, it was decided the business decision to get out of debt was more crucial than avoiding paying any taxes. Author's Note: Which was the plan. So what happened? Janet decided she didn't would like to sell the junk in Kansas and fired others. She refused to pay her father back and as regarding December 2004 he had not seen a dime. Dad has deducted what she owes him from him / her inheritance, which will be put into a trust administered by the brother for the benefit of the grandchildren. Real estate in Los angeles skyrocketed after 9/11/01 terrorist attack and her real estate all doubled in value. Summary: Everyone thinks the fact that his or her problem is not confrontable and therefore unsolvable. I have found who someone other than myself can solve my un-confrontable challenges in 10 min and I can do the same for the kids. It is not a question of being smarter, or more experienced, nonetheless experience helps a lot when coming up with easy solutions, promptly. It is really that we all are willing to confront someone else's problems quite easy than our own. When we are willing to confront our own problem head-on, solutions begin to appear miraculously. What I do is guidance people take their mountains and turn them within molehills. The molehills are then flattened with ease. Instructions to learn: First, do not think you are smarter than the individuals passed this way before you; you're not. Second, markets never go up forever, have not performed as if they will. Third, if you are not even prepared for the worst, it will kill you. If you are completely ready, it will only hurt a little. You will survive and can be purchased away much richer in the end.

On to the next

Greetings and Salutations!

I hope you are all enjoying the holidays and the Christmas cheer! This is the first time in my life we have been away from home this time of the year and it feels really strange - I miss it!!

The last time we posted we were in Danang, Vietnam. Where we spent a couple more days before heading on to Hoi An, just a 30 minute drive south down the coast. We were very lucky to have a great friend of ours, Allison, come visit us from Shanghai for a few days in Danang and Hoi An. Bryn and I first met Allison in Bali (which is also where Bryn and I met but you already probably know that). She was there teaching English as well and we became fast friends. Allison and I have actively stayed in touch and have met up in England, Nepal, and China prior to this trip in Vietnam. She’s been living in China for 3 years now but is planning on moving to the Danang/Hoi An area next year and the dates lined up for us to meet up and check it all out!

Hoi An was a really nice relaxing getaway. We stayed at a lovely bed and breakfast located on An Bang beach. It had been a couple of weeks since we had any really nice weather, nothing too inclement but for weeks it had been overcast - but the first couple of days in Hoi An we got lucky with a few awesome beach days and soaked up the sun. Our first night in Hoi An was unexpectedly wild. We went into town to explore some shops and get dinner and found out the Vietnam national soccer team was playing in the finals of the SEA games. We had noticed the build up throughout our trip as many people watched them make their way to the finals. We knew it was a big deal to the Vietnamese, but my goodness.. We took a lantern boat down the river that runs through town to the main drag of restaurants and bars where we found a place that had put up a sheet on the wall and was projecting the game. They ended up beating Indonesia 3-0 in a thrilling match. The aftermath was inanity, there were literal riots in the streets, the entire city seemed to be out in full force waving flags, chanting, singing, dancing and blowing horns. The streets were flooded  at a standstill with people and cars for hours and it took us nearly 3 hours before the roads were clear enough to get a taxi back to our hotel. The next evening we met up with a friend of my fathers from high school. He has lived in Vietnam for the last 3 years with his wife and their 3 year old daughter. The last time my father and he had seen each other was before I was born. He took us around to some cool local spots and told us about his life and what living in Asia as an expat is like. He was a really interesting person and we had a great time getting to hang out with a local! Their daughter was absolutely adorable and it was really fun to entertain her and make jokes while she shared lots of candy with us. :)

Our final day in Hoi An was spent relaxing at a spa. In Asia you can get various spa treatments/massages for ~10$ and seeing as we wouldn’t have that opportunity again for a while, we treated ourselves. I did a hot stone massage for the first time, it was really freaking hot, but awesome. Bryn got a coffee bean and honey body scrub and a manicure and Allison did some extravagant package deal. It was wonderful. The rest of the evening we just chilled out and played cards, got some dinner and drank wine from the local vineyard. The next morning we parted ways with Allison and flew to Saigon for the day. We had a a flight late that evening so we booked a cheap AirBnB with a pool and hung out in the sun and then went to see the new Jumanji movie before our flight. One last Bun Cha and bowl of Pho and we were saying goodbye to Vietnam. 

Bryn and I are cheap flight aficionados, we have some know-how on working the system and typically find great deals wherever we go, but going ultra-budget can pose problems. At the start of our trip we flew on China Eastern, the budget Chinese airline. Our flight from the US to Thailand was just over 200$, short layovers, good seats, crazy deal! However, right before our flight they changed the flight schedules in China and we were unable to make our connection so we had to hang out in Shanghai for a couple of days. Luckily, our friend Allison lives there and she we got to hang out with her and explore the city. We will flashback and include a few photos from our Shanghai trip in this post as well. Well.. that was not to be the last of our flight debacles.. When we were searching for flights, the flights from Vietnam to New Zealand were pretty damn expensive - this is the high season for tourism in New Zealand as it is the beginning of their summer, and with the holidays and such flights in December were very out of our price range. Except for this one date, we were baffled why the flights on December 13th were less than half the price than all of all the other flights but we counted ourselves lucky and locked it in. A few days later I came to realize that December 13th fell on a Friday.. We definitely got a real Friday the 13th experience... We went to the airport ~3 hours early for our flight and as we got through the check in line they informed us that we did not have the proper clearance to get on our flight to New Zealand. Since we had started traveling, New Zealand just implemented a new regulation that you have to pre-register your automatic visa on arrival - it seems silly requiring people to apply for something they are guaranteed to get but nonetheless, we were in a bit of a pickle. We had an hour or so before the counter closed to work it out and there were a couple other folks in the same boat as us. The approval process is only supposed to take 20-30 minutes so we applied but our application didn’t go through properly and the counter was about to close. We cajoled the people in Vietnam to at least let us board the first leg of our flight to Australia and figure it out on our long-layover there - luckily we had been approved for Australian visas a couple weeks prior and that was an option otherwise we would’ve be SOL. We barely made that flight as we had to wait in an insanely long immigration line and sprint through the airport - they closed the doors as soon as we stepped inside. We were able to call the New Zealand immigration department from Australia and re-apply and get it all expedited. We got to New Zealand as planned, but with a whole lot of added stress and 3 months wasted on our year-long visas in Australia. Could’ve been a lot worse but it will be a long time before I fly on Friday the 13th again. 

We have been in Auckland for 3 days now. Another friend of ours from Bali, Arnaud, has a downtown apartment in the city that was between tenants so we’ve been staying in a lovely 22nd story apartment in the heart of the city. The first morning we were here we headed across town to the weekly used car fair to begin our search for a van - which will be our means of room and transportation throughout our 3 months in New Zealand. At first we were a bit overwhelmed and disheartened - the vans on display were either way out of our price range, way too small for me to lay down comfortably, or most predominantly, being sold by a shady used-car salesman that clearly was just trying to do a quick flip. We left the fair to go get a lovely gas-station breakfast and decided to go back and give it one last lap before the day was out. In the far back corner, clearly having arrived late was an older guy from Vermont who charmed us with his stories of living out of the van in New Zealand and living on sailboats in New England. The van was a bit out of our price range but he was trying to get out of the city for the holidays quickly and after some relatively easy negotiating we got the price down in to our ballpark. We got it tested by a mechanic yesterday and he’s currently doing a small fix on a radiator tube, but if all goes well with that we will go to the post office tomorrow with a scary amount of cash in our pockets and buy our first car!! 

Today and tomorrow we are going to get prepared to head out on the road! We are starting by heading North of Auckland up to Cape Reinga. While I may be missing the Christmas season and cheer a bit, I live an incredibly exciting life and am super stoked and grateful to start out on this advanture. ;)

Hope all is well in your lives wherever you may be <3

Christopher and Bryn

Jin Kazama

Age: 19 (TK 3) 21 (TK4-7)

Date of Birth: May 22nd 1998

Species: Human with the Hachijō bloodline's Devil Gene

Universe-Inspiration: Generally Tekken 4 or 5 with tooling for things to make sense (Does not acknowledge 6 or 7 canon unless specifically that verse)

Appearance Jin is a tall man of Asian ethnicity, specifically Japanese, with dark hair and eyes, as well as a muscular build. Often, his face wears a smoldering scowl, or an otherwise neutral expression. Most of the time Jin's hair is styled backwards in a spiky fashion, with bangs resting over his forehead, that seems rather rigid, at other times he'll allow it to fall naturally, causing more of his hair to quaf forwards, while the back of his head is more prone to cowlicking in the back.

On Jin's left arm is a tattoo-like brand of a vaguely tribal aesthetic, which is a physical marking and indicator of the devil gene that Jin possesses, haivng formed after the first time that the devil attempted to take control of Jin after his mother had disappeared.

Generally, in terms of dress, Jin favors comfort and function over fashion and look, though he does keep to several core aesthetic components. Jin's clothing do tend to favor flame motifs, and dark colors juxtaposing with lighter, more bright tones and colors. As well, Jin almost constantly wears a pair of red sparring gloves. At times these gloves may cover up to his forearms, or even just shy of his elbows, becoming almost armor-like.

During a time of activity for his devil trigger, Jin's brand will extend across his body and face, accenting his frame and features, accompanied by a jewel on his forehead that resembles the eye on his father's forehead. Wings, usually with black feathers, also sprout from Jin's back during the transformation, though not always immediately, enabling him to fly. Along both of Jin's temples sprout two slightly curved horns, ending in a wicked tip, that appear to be far more grown-in than they actually are, given their recent appearance during transformations.

Personality Jin is often accused of being a somber and over-serious young man, with little patience or good humor for others. This was not always the case, as at one point Jin was a happy young man with a friendly demeanor, who may or may not have been something of a mama's boy. Following his mother's disappearance Jin would become much more ill-tempered and dour, rarely smiling sincerely, if at all.

As a warrior, Kazama values honor, fighting his opponents as fairly as possible, reflecting in his fighting style, which rarely includes many fakes or feints, instead anticipating and intercepting his opponents.

While initially indifferent to his father's family, only holding a grudge against Kazuya for his absence, having apparently abandoned Jun after Jin's birth, only to be killed in his own tournament's finals, Jin would develop a resentment towards his father that he didn't necessarily show to his grandfather. This would change, however, after the third tournament, when Heihachi, after having shown Jin kindness and care for the previous four years, abruptly betrayed Jin so as to ensure that all perceived threats to his empire would be done away with. Now, Jin hates all things to do with the Mishimas, particularly Heihachi and Kazuya. This reflects even in his desire to change fighting styles, so as not to remind himself through combat.

Biography Jin Kazama is the illegitimate son of Kazuya Mishima and Jun Kazama. The decision to keep Jin's true parentage from documentation was intended to protect him from Kazuya's enemies, as well as, in Jun's mind, from Kazuya himself. Thus, Jin and his mother would live in largely isolation, among the wilderness that Jun desired to protect, instilling into the young man a love of nature and its world from early on.

With only hazy information alluded to him regarding his father, Jin came to the conclusion that Kazuya's desires to world domination, or indeed possibly a lack of desire to be a parent, was for the reason that he had been absent, and gotten himself killed in the second King of Iron Fists tournament.

As time came on, Jun would sense something foreboding in the future, and would warn Jin that if she were ever not there, he would have to seek out his grandfather, Heihachi Mishima. And this premonition would indeed come to pass, as one morning Jin would wake in the aftermath of an attack by Ogre, having fled into the forest at his mother's order. Only having a vague idea of what happened, Jin would set out, at the age of fifteen, to find his grandfather.

It took roughly a year for Jin to contact Heihachi, and furthermore to prove his parentage to the skeptical old man. But upon this, it would seem, that Mishima would welcome Jin into his home and dojo with open arms, enrolling him into Mishima Polytech, and training the boy in his family's fighting style.

Despite this hospitality, though, Heihachi would have ulterior motives, intending to use Jin, and his apparent Devil Gene, to do away with the threat that was Ogre, and then summarily put an end to the Devil that he believed he'd killed years before. And it was through this training that Jin would become an extremely powerful martial artist, somewhat enabled through his Demonic lineage, but also seemingly due to a prodigal talent for fighting that he'd inherited from both his parents.

While attending Mishima Polytech, Jin would frequently take brief hiatuses to compete in smaller mixed martial arts and karate tournaments globally, to further hone his skills and become strong enough to someday kill his mother's attacker. It was during one of these brawls that Jin would meet and first do battle with his rival Hwoarang, fighting to a draw.

At the age of 19, Jin would enter his grandfather's King of Iron Fist 3 Tournament, given the promise to fight Ogre if her performed well enough. Defeating many other fighters, and again experiencing a draw against Hwoarang, Jin would eventually face off against his grandfather, Heihachi, as a means of drawing Ogre out. While Ogre first fought against Paul, earlier in the tournament, and was defeated, it returned when it had realized that Heihachi was defeated by Jin, drawing upon the man's chi in order to become True Ogre. Engaging in another intense duel with True Ogre, Jin would eventually defeat the beast, only to be gunned down by Tekken Force and Heihachi immediately after he took victory.

Jin died in that moment, but as he drew his final breath, the Devil Gene that lay dormant inside of him activated, causing him to regenerate, and effortlessly do away with Heihachi and his men. Busting his grandfather through a brick wall, Jin would grow wings in his back, and disappear into the night, not able to be tracked by his grandfather, or anyone else for that matter.

Over the next months, Jin would go into hiding in Australia, training to develop a new fighting style, as he resented everything Mishima, including his style. Leaning a new style of Kyokushin-based karate, Jin made efforts to change himself completely, only coming out of his hiding when word came out about the fourth King of Iron Fist's would be held, with both Heihachi and Kazuya intending to enter.

Fighting successfully through the tournament, even having a side-match with his rival Hwoarang, Jin was on his way to face off against his father, Kazuya, with the intent to kill the man. However, he was ambushed on the way be Heihachi's Tekken Force, and was unable to fight them off. Carted off, unconscious, to the Hon-Maru temple, Jin was bound with chains, it wasn't until Kazuya and Heihachi resolved their battle in the finals of the tournament that they came to the temple, though as they did arrive, Kazuya would use his telekinesis to force the old man out of the temple, before attempting to invade Jin's mind with his devil's spirit.

Able to fight it off, thanks to his Kazama blood, Jin managed to break free of the chains, fighting Kazuya and defeating him, only to moments later fight Heihachi, again wining. For the moment, it seemed that his dream would come true, but after seeing a vision of his mother, decided to take mercy on the two, growing his wings, and flying out of the building.

During this spurt of using his Devil Gene, Jin fell into a dissociative state, destroying a large piece of wilderness in the process. Feeling immense guilt at this, Jin would wander for a time, until he came upon civilization again, coming to the conclusion that no matter what, even if it would reflect poorly on what his mother may want, Jin would have to bring an end to the Mishima bloodline, no matter what.

Upon hearing word of the fifth tournament being held by Jinpachi Mishima, Jin would enter, fighting all who got in his way, losing only to Hwoarang, in the process giving into his devil side again to snatch victory from his rival, before continuing on. Eventually, Jin would defeat his grandfather, and take control of the Mishima Zaibatsu, ready to determine what his endgame plan would be.

Abilities and Skills -Martial Arts (Mixed/Multi-Style Karateka): Jin Kazama is a mixed martial artist, having trained under several instructors, each with distinct styles. His fighting style has evolved over time, though his current style is noted for being considered his weakest, as utilizing it runs contrary to the inborn training that Jin has worked for over time. While generally considered a very offensive fighter, Jin actually excels in countering and picking apart the offense of his opponents with a quicker offense, or a variety of throws and grabs. --Kazama Style Self Defense: Jin's original style, and that of his mother, Kazama Style is a type of traditional Jujitsu that focuses on throws and joint-manipulation. Jin's implementation and variance on the style is a largely more striking-oriented one. This is evidenced by the retention of moves like Jun's spinning high kick and Three Ring Circus and Three Ring Circus combo, as well as the throws, which help negate the opponent's offensive options somewhat. Regardless of primary style that Jin utilizes at the moment, the principles and fundamentals of the Kazama style remain evident in how Jin fights. --Mishima Style Fighting Karate: A karate discipline that utilizes the fighter's internal energy to exert it as raw fighting power, Mishima Style Karate is diverse, and often eschews unnecessary components and forms of karate, so that its practitioners can become greater warriors. Each user of Mishima style has a distinct way of fighting, although all practitioners share a series of forms and stances that can be implemented, although again as the fighter develops they may have a different way of executing. Jin's own style resembles Shito-ryu Karate, uniting other styles of karate together to create something fast, powerful, and artistic. It was with this style that Jin was able to defeat both Ogre and True Ogre, widely considered his greatest feat of martial prowess. While he firmly refuses to make use of this style in fights, when he is in possession of all his faculties, Jin will often backslide into using Mishima style when his devil gene takes over, fighting on instinct, rather than actively using his new style. --”Traditional” Kyokushin Karate: Learned from a sensei in Australia, Jin has reconstructed his fighting style into one that implements the basic forms and techniques of ancient karate, blended with the sports-style full-contact Kyokushin Karate. Jin implements this style of fighting as a means of distancing himself from his Mishima-Ryu roots, while also working to develop a new style that's all his own, and can more seamlessly blend with his Kazama style. While considered a master of his new style, Jin is still considered a magnitude beneath his previous fighting ability, as he consciously limits himself and forces his reflexes to remain in check, so that he may avoid using the style that served him for half a decade.

-Chi Manipulation and Manifestation: As a component of his Mishima Style training, Jin is able to focus the life energy known as chi, and exert it externally in tandem with his karate techniques. Jin's chi, like other members of the Mishima clan, manifests as a cloud of electricity, although no symptoms of electrocution, or over-exposure to electricity, seem prevalent in those who Jin, or any repeat opponents of any Mishima, have done battle with, this seems to solely add destructive power to Jin's punches and kicks.

-Education: Jin was educated at the Mishima Polytechnical School, granting him a presumably higher-than average education in Japan, despite the fact that he had dropped out following the third King of Iron Fists Tournament. This should be balanced with a grain of salt, however, as Jin was also homeschooled by Jun for fifteen years, making the specifics of his education and curriculum vague at best.

Superhuman Powers and Abilities -The Devil Gene: As a descendant of the Hachijō clan, Jin has inherited a “Devil Factor” that is able to enhance Jin's physical capabilities, as well as his spiritual ones to some degree, when he is exposed to the spirit of a demon whose purpose is currently unknown, but believed to be to kill Heihachi, as well as cause chaos and destruction throughout the entirety of the world. While it is observed that Jin has only inherited “half” of Kazuya's devil, the fact that they both live at the same time seems to have no impact on either of their ability to fully execute their powers at any given time. When transformed, Jin develops a series of black, tattoo-like, brands along his skin and face, as well as a small jewel-like ridge in his forehead, through which he is able to fire concentrated blasts of his enhanced chi. As well, Jin's physical abilities become greatly enhanced, being able to easily put down foes who were able to defeat or kill Jin moments before, accompanied by the growth of two large, black, winds, and a pair of horns above his temples. Other changes and growths may occur when Jin activates his Devil Gene, but this varies based on the severity of his mental state. It's notable that, apparently due to his mother's spirit and love, Jin's devil form possesses more naturally angelic qualities than his father's. This may also be due to a simple lack of a full possession. When Jin transforms it seems that all injuries and fatigue he suffers disappears, as the devil is able to fight ferociously, despite Jin being defeated moments before, or even having been shot in the head.

-Kazama Bloodline: Inherited from his mother's family, Jin is naturally able to subdue his own devil trigger, as well as stave off the spirit of the devil that attempts to possess him. This scales specifically to Jin's mental state, meaning that there may be times where he falters and succumbs to his inner devil completely, for a time, while at other times he may choose to transform, wholly or partially, or wrest control back DURING a transformation.

Weaknesses and Limitations -Self-Debilitation: Jin actively chooses to not use the forms and techniques that he learned as a part of Mishima style, which aren't otherwise present in his renewed Karate training. This slows down and weakens Jin's ability to fight, as he must actively make the decision to not do this, and rewire towards traditional karate. This has evidenced a decline in ability following both of his losses to Hwoarang, a rival who he could once fight to a stand-still, now getting the better of him both in an aside spar outside of the Fourth tournament, and an actual loss during the fifth tournament, in which Jin was only allowed to continue fighting because he transformed into his Devil form and easily defeated his rival.

-Internal Struggle: Due to Jin's constant internal strife that he must deal with, particularly when his emotional state is so compromised that he very nearly falls to the pressure of his devil gene, Jin's mental state can deteriorate rather quickly, which can negatively inhibit his ability to fight, or function in other regards.

Okay, here goes. The incredible @everlarkedalways created a GoFundMe to help me out through present circumstances, but before I share that link, I wanted to explain a bit of what’s been going on. I feel awful accepting financial help, in part because I’ve been such a dry well for the past 18 months (I have nothing creative to give back/say “thank you” with) and also because so many of you have previously contributed monies to help me through other crisis points over the past five years (yes, it’s been that long and no, it doesn’t seem to be getting any better). But things are maybe the most desperate they’ve ever been and I really can’t say no to badly needed help.

Because I’m long-winded, I’m going to try to condense this into a simple chronological order. Things have been relentlessly bad since my car accident on December 26, 2013, but this is where the current run really started: 

December 2017: The day after Christmas, I went to the ER at 3am with excruciating chest and upper back pain, a bad experience all around (terrible staff, indifferent care). Their best guess was that I’d had an acid reflux attack, something I’d never had before (but have had since, alas :/).

January 2018: The ER bill saga began, and after loads of paperwork/headaches applying for any kind of aid/bill forgiveness, they put me on a payment plan for the $1,343 balance (and yes, that was "after” insurance - Marketplace policies are crap and all they did was “adjust” the total; nothing was covered). Meanwhile, I started taking Lucky to an acupuncturist over an hour’s drive away, desperate to find something to ease her severe separation anxiety (nonstop barking and howling when I was gone, which we have been struggling to treat, with varying degrees of success, for over two years). The sessions were very expensive (around $400 for one month - I had to put them on a credit card that I’m still chipping away at) and actually made her WORSE.

February 2018: The downstairs neighbors left a mildly threatening note about Lucky’s howling - the day before my birthday. In a ridiculous twist of luck, I managed to find a great sitter who only takes little dogs and was (and still is) able to watch Lucky for me as needed, but it cost me $25/day. (At most I would use her two days a week, but you can see how quickly that would add up.) At the same time, I also started administering CBD drops (suggested by our new vet) to Lucks when I had to leave her at home.

July 2018: After increasing the dosage multiple times, I finally started seeing improvement in Lucky’s behavior from a combination of the CBD drops and SAMe, which was huge (note the timespan), but these therapies cost about $100 month. I resolved to make it work somehow.

September 2018: I found out that my workplace had been bought out by an area salon and would be changing hands soon. Shortly thereafter the new owner sent us the employee handbook, which stated that we could not have another job in the same field (many massage therapists in this part of the country work at multiple places as there simply isn’t enough work to go around, especially in the off-season). The new owner was originally okay with me keeping my second job (on-call work at a yoga studio), and then I learned that that position was switching from a subcontractor to an outright rental (I would have to pay up front for the use of the room and possibly make none of it back while having to promote myself as a business), so for several reasons I decided I would leave that second job at the end of October and try to pick up more hours at my “main” job. One bright spot in all this: the downstairs neighbors moved out at the end of the month, but...

October 2018: ...the day after the neighbors moved out, the landlord informed my roommate (a THG fandom friend and content creator) that the owner of our building had sold the property and that we had 30 days to vacate. I can’t even begin to articulate how stressful, expensive, frightening, and exhausting that time was. By the end of October our only real option was a little house approximately 10 miles from town, and miraculously we got ourselves moved out there - to the tune of lots of $$$ and insane energy expenditure.

November 2018: Because I now lived about 20 mins from work and I have to come home at lunchtime to take Lucky out (and give her a booster of anxiety drops), I had to switch to split shifts. If you’ve ever worked split shifts, you will understand why this sucks (you’re never home, you’re always tired, and you never see or spend time with the people you live with). My new boss put me on the schedule for two additional days a week (I initially had just two days a week, period, hence the second job), which initially seemed very promising, but neither myself nor the rest of the staff realized that the new management had an either/or policy when it comes to pay. (This is messy and frustrating to explain, but in a nutshell: instead of getting paid commission for massages and hourly for the rest of your clocked-in time - laundry, desk help, etc - you get paid ONLY commission, i.e., nothing for all the extra things you do, unless the commission divided by hours amounts to less than minimum wage, in which case they pay you minimum wage for the week instead, including for your massage hours. Which is not cool but is, apparently, legal.) So I was driving about an hour a day (20 mins each way, twice, to the tune of about 300 miles/week) just to make minimum wage (we were entering the dead season for massage and I’m the perpetual “second string” therapist anyway, so some weeks I had just four clients in four days :/), which was exhausting and disheartening.

December 2018: Daylight glimmered: my sister (with whom I am extremely close and who I hadn’t seen in a year and a half) flew out to see me after Christmas. A coworker agreed to cover the whole week and a half of her visit for me, and I was a little nervous about taking the time off (unpaid, of course) at such a rotten financial time, but I hadn’t had a vacation of any kind since moving to Maine nor a weekend off since August of 2017. I resolved to be extra frugal during her visit and my work schedule was going to be almost full after she left, so I was pretty sure I could squeak through somehow.

I saw her off on her return trip, and that night I was carrying some dishes down from our living room when I took a very bad fall down the stairs. These are awful, steep “Maine stairs,” and in my fall my left leg shot out through the open side of the staircase and wedged the knee against the bookcase in the dining room below. When I tried to get up I realized that something was very wrong with my knee, and my roommate helped me to bed with ice, a brace, ibuprofen, etc. The following morning I went to the hospital and was directed to the same stupid ER (the last place I ever wanted to go again, but they don’t have urgent care out here and wouldn’t let me just see a GP, so I broke down and cried in admissions). The care I received was middling, if not as bad as on my previous visit, and the nurse-practitioner ordered no weight-bearing for three days, which meant losing the rest of that (desperately needed) work week, and advised following up with orthopedics the next week if the knee wasn’t better.

My wonderful roommate made all kinds of accommodations for my comfort for those three days, and I implemented all the extra therapies I could think of (turmeric, arnica, l-glutamine, Epsom salt soaks, etc). I asked my employers about the possibility of picking up non-massage hours (covering the desk, laundry, etc) but was given the impression that there was nothing for me to do till I could return to massage again. I went to the orthopedic doctor last Thursday and his diagnosis was an MCL (least concerning of the knee ligaments) sprain or tear. I was already strides ahead on his self-care recommendations (getting myself off the crutches, constantly wearing a good brace) and he was supposed to refer me for some PT, but I haven’t heard a peep on that front, and I’m not particularly concerned because, Lord knows, my insurance probably wouldn’t pay for that anyway. He estimated 4 weeks to full recovery but I’m determined to get back to work before that.

So, here’s where we’re at: I’m out of work at the worst time of year, and at the very least, I’ll lose 2.5 weeks of pay (on top of the planned week I took off, plus Christmas and New Year’s were unpaid holidays). Because we live in Maine where everyone has beastly heating fuel, even in a decently insulated house (as I believe this one to be), it costs us around $350 a month to keep the place at 58 degrees through the winter months. (Yes, 58 degrees. 60 if we’re splurging.)

My credit cards are maxed out from car repairs and copious Lucky expenses (including an emergency vet visit - she ended up being fine but it was one of those things that happens after hours/over a weekend and you really shouldn’t wait several days to have checked out).

Oh, and just for fun, our January rent payment got lost in the mail. The landlord was very nice about it and we promptly sent out a replacement, but this meant paying $35 for a stop-payment on the missing check (did I mention that I had to buy checks, to the tune of almost $30, just for paying rent?).

Those of you who have already donated: you are quite literally keeping me going right now. You covered Lucky’s rabies booster yesterday and refills of her food and supplements (all of which, naturally, were running out at the same time), and Lucky is absolutely the reason I’m still alive, so her care honestly means more to me than my own.

I have no idea what my medical bills will look like at this point. I’m assuming the ER visit will be around $1000, and I’m sure the orthopedic visit will be up there somewhere too. As soon as bills start coming in I’ll apply for aid (or, likelier than not, a payment plan), but in order to do that they’re going to want my new tax returns, which means I’m going to have to get my taxes done (probably in Feb) just to find out what my ultimate medical expenses will be. (I used to do my own taxes cheaply through TaxAct, but I was a subcontractor for part of the year, which complicates things and means having to pay someone $$$ to do them this round. I may actually owe on my taxes this year, which is terrifying.)

The healing has been going well overall and I’m hoping to be able to go back to work next week, but I don’t want to assume my knee will oblige. To add insult to injury, I just got hammered with a terrible cold (the kind that levels you in bed), so my body is triaging itself and I’m not sure which is going to get the care first. Surprisingly enough, Lucky’s being a great little nurse, but recovery is a difficult and very lonely process, especially when you get saddled with illness on top of injury.

Anyway, sorry for the ramble. I’ve been reluctant to talk about the miserable past year, but in light of the fact that I’m receiving (and, I guess, asking for :/ ) help, I thought you should know what’s been going on. Thanks for listening and blessings on your day. <3

A/N: I wrote a lot of this and then my software (*clears throat* Evernote) closed on me without letting me save so it from now on I am using google docs to write everything… I lost so much good material *sad uwu*

Warning: Mentions of previous attack attempts, politics, women’s rights, feminism, plastic surgery

Genre: Smut

Count: 5.0 k

~blake

As a politically outspoken female celebrity in the entertainment industry, you could say you had your work cut out for you. In the beginning of your career, you were known as a high end plastic surgeon's daughter who was trying to make it big as a singer. Quickly you made your way up in the ranks not for your father's money but for your own hard work and abilities you've perfected after ten years of training at your agency. To be clear, your looks were not achieved with the help of your father's tools. You've explained over and over that you were all natural, breasts and ass included in the statements you've given. You've shot down nasty reporters by explaining there was more to you than your body but if they had to know "your secret" that badly, it was a good work out every now and then and love towards yourself is how you kept yourself in shape.

You were used to being a target. Many would think you were asking for it with the little clothing you wore on stage and the form fitting ones you wore in public, your message was that women should be able to wear whatever they wanted without feeling ashamed of. You liked your clothes, but not being the center of attention by every sleazeball that you just so happened to pass while walking on the sidewalk. You thought this was a small price to pay for what you were pulling off. Your fans supported and loved you for that, along with the incredible songs you write and produce yourself. It was one night while making dinner in your apartment that someone threw a brick at your window that would have hit your head if you hadn't bent over to grab a napkin you had dropped. The brick was just a distraction because while you were inspecting the brick a masked man was picking the lock to your front door. It was luck that your security system had alerted the police and the man had been obtained before he could hurt you. Fans found out immediately along with your company and both had begged you to undergo some form of protection for the time being. You refused, not wanting to show that a man had made you afraid. It was stupid, even you could admit that, what if someone else had the same idea and would be successful? You thought it wouldn't happen and stood your ground of not upping security, but that night was the last straw for your father. He refused to let his precious daughter live her life while being at risk. He lost his wife, your mother, when she was giving birth to you and since that day a life was exchanged for another be vowed not to let it go to waste. In that case, he ignored your disagreement and got you a personal bodyguard. One that will stay in your apartment with you and at your side 24/7. You allowed it, but only after your father guilt tripped you with retelling the tale of your mother's life. You've seen photos of her and she looked just like you. That was all you knew of her since your father didn't like telling you things about her when she was alive.

That was how you met Jung Jaehyun.

Jung Jaehyun. A tall man with shoulders as strong as his arms, a stare as poker as a stack of cards, and a vibe so sharp you thought you were going to get a paper cut. It was a warm day when your father brought you to his office, the man who was to now be your knight in shining armor standing at attention in front of his desk, but with the goosebumps travelling across your body you felt as if you were buried under five feet of snow. Many would turn in fear to this mad, but you were the bark to his bite as you two made an odd pair.

The first ten minutes consisted of you sitting in a chair and Jaehyun standing next to you as your father explained the guidelines of the job he was offering. The fact that you and your father were the only ones sitting seemed weird since there was another chair only a few inches away from you, but it didn't seem so out of the ordinary for Mr. Jung, a name you felt obligated to call the older man despite you being his superior, so you didn't question.

What was known by no one was that Jung Jaehyun was a fan of yours.

Jaehyun admired how outspoken you were and your passion for music as well as your political views of women’s rights. His views were on the same page as yours; it was one of the reasons why he became a bodyguard and such a huge fan. He wanted to help keep people safe and didn’t want them to be another headline in the papers. Jaehyun’s original plan was to become a police officer, but after failing the exams he went with being a bodyguard. Much let political backlash in his opinions. He had to keep his impression solid in front of his employers so that no one would find out his admiration. It would be cause for removal of position and that was the last thing Jaehyun wanted.

Therefore, he only shakes your hand after he shakes your father’s. That is to be the first and only time he would be in physical contact with you, it was company policy. It’s customary for bodyguards to escort their bosses everywhere but they are only allowed to hover their arms around their bodies no matter their gender, but it was implemented in the beginning when the female customers were feeling uncomfortable having arms wrapped around them all the time in public. Of course, if the situation calls for it, then the guard may push or pull their boss to safety or out of harm’s way.

He drove you home, as he were to do all day every day from now on. The ride was silent but no one sparked a conversation. You got the feeling that you would only recieve a nod or shake of the head from the man whom was going to be your protector, so you plugged in your earphones and fiddled around with melodies or beats in your head for a new song you may produce. Not much came to mind as you stole quick glances of Mr. Jung’s features.

“If he was more of a talker, we could be friends.” You thought; unknowing that Jaehyun was rattling his mind for things he’d talk to you for hours on end about. He’d ask about upcoming albums or what your next big project was. Or if you didn’t want to talk about work he’s question you on what you thought of the news from this morning. He thought you’d love to watch the news or at least read up on it in the car or while you sit in the chair while stylists groom your hair and do your make-up. The ride ended quickly with both of you occupying your own minds; you with music and he with business he had to tend to. He parked the vehicle and ran over to your side with long strides resulting from his seemingly endless legs, and opened the door for you. You thanked him politely as you began to walk to your door, Mr. Jung hovering not too far away from you.

Being followed, this was a feeling you had been used to somewhat. Fans would follow you at a distance away from you, respecting you enough as to not crowd around you. You wish you could say the same for some idols that are friends of yours. Some of their fans would do anything to touch their clothes or their faces no matter how much security fights them off. But being followed by a man in a dark suit less than a foot away from you, that feeling was brand new. Yes, you felt safe; safer than you imagined you would have. It brought comfort, knowing you had one less thing to worry about.

Your turn to escort came to showing Mr. Jung where his room was, which coincidentally was next to yours. It was the guest room. Walls were the shade of cotton with picture frames of meadows as decor. A queen size bed with white sheets embroidered in pink, yellow, and purple threads making the designs of flowers  covered the mattress. A set of oak wood containing a dresser, nightstand, and a desk was the only other furniture excluding the flat screen television hooked up to the wall for entertainment. There was a door next to the closet which led to the small bathroom baring the only necessities a guest may need to stay for nearly a month or so before you would have to restock when their visit was over and they had already left your residence. It was clear you had no time to change the theme to make it more neutral and less…how you hated the word…girly.

“Sorry it’s like this. I normally have my female friends stay here.” You wanted to tell him that he was the only man outside of your family that has ever set foot into your home, but that statement has a double meaning and you couldn’t risk a miscommunication.

“I think it’s lovely. Thank you ma’am.” Mr. Jung said as he set down the bag you hadn’t noticed he was carrying. It was a black duffel filled to the brim. You had assumed it was his clothes and wondered if more was being transported over, but as he pulled out a laptop and multiple chargers, you concluded that he brought over immediate work material and his personal items would arrive at a later date. Before you could ask about his attire, Mr. Jung unpacked a utility belt with many things hooked onto it. Those items being walkie talkies, earpieces, sunglasses, but the one catching your eye being the handgun in its holster.

“Is my life that much at risk so that you have to carry a firearm?” You meant to think to yourself but said aloud. After Mr. Jung gave you a confused stare but realized what you were looking at, he explained himself.

“It’s only for precautionary measures ma’am. It’s rare the guards use their weapons but it has been deemed better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it. I can also assure you that you’re life is in good hands.” He’d never let anything happen to you, not on his watch will you even get a splinter.

For some reason you became flustered and desired to change the subject. “Are you hungry? I’ll go cook dinner.” You didn’t give Mr. Jung much of a chance to state his hunger or if he even wanted something to eat in the first place. You ran to your kitchen and pulled out fresh vegetables and thawed meat you were planning on cooking for yourself tonight and saving the left overs to eat again throughout the week. Jaehyun didn’t like having you out of his sight, much like all guard felt with those they were assigned too. He hurried to gather what he needed and he left his room, meaning to properly put his things away when you were asleep.

The way your house was set up, the kitchen, dining and living room were connected and sectioned off with marble counters. Then there was a long hallway that led to the connecting sections of your room, the guest room, and your studio office. Of course, your room and the guest room had a connecting bathroom. Your office was the only room in the apartment that didn’t connect to anything. This was fortunate for Jaehyun because now he can work and keep his eyes on you at all times. In his contract he can not have his clients be out of his view so he’d normally have to wait until then to do his personal affairs or work on his computer. For times that he is unable to work, a rarity for Jaehyun, he would have to have another guard cover for him after receiving permission from his clients and his company executive. Finding coverage is normally harder than getting the job in the first place. Most guards save their covering days for real emergencies that aren’t related to them getting injured or physically being unable to work.

He set his laptop, notebook, and pens on the marble counter with stools set up at them. He opened the notebook to the next blank page, passing many with his scribbled writing of names and numbers he only recognized.

The stools served no purpose until now, you had them just for show. It bothered you having bare spots at the counter you hardly use for meal prepping, but you never had that many visitors so the three stools were purely for the visual aesthetic. You hadn’t expected Mr. Jung to follow you so you distracted yourself with cooking, but you had put on music to help the time pass, which eventually lead to your songs being played on shuffle, and wondered if the music bothered him. Looking over to ask him if he wanted you to turn it down but you saw him absentmindedly murmuring the lyrics of your song that was currently playing.

“Are you a fan?” You brought up casually, making Jaehyun halt immediately. “Normally people come up to me and say they are before asking for autographs or photos.”

Jaehyun yelled at himself mentally and asked how he could’ve made it so obvious. Now he was going to lose his job and his chance to be around you. He tried to explain himself, but in a way that wouldn’t make things harder for himself.

“It’s alright. I won’t tell anyone.” You smiled, reassuring him he didn’t have to worry. You began pan frying the vegetables next to the pan the meat was cooking on. You checked the rice cooker and saw the rice was almost done. Things were fine for now. “Would you like a photo?”

“No, that’s fine ma’am. Thank you for asking.” Again, Jaehyun wanted to smack himself. It was you asking him for a photo, not the other way around. As much as he wanted a picture, he knew it would be wrong professionally.

“What would you have done if you saw me in public? Before you became my bodyguard, I mean.” “And not when you were working.” You added.

“I wouldn’t have come up to you. If you were in public you are just going out and having time to yourself. Who would I have been to disturb that?” Jaehyun replied  innocently.

“Which is what I thought you would say. Most people come up to me anyway and bombard me with their phones or things they want me to have. Obviously I’m grateful and do all I can to make them happy, but it becomes too much at some point. You on the other hand deserve a photo at the very least.” You said while bringing your phone out, turning the front camera on and walking over to Mr. Jung. He was flustered, but didn’t reject. He looked up and smiled like a little kid seeing the ice cream truck. You stuck your arm out for a better angle and moved to do the pose you normally do for male fans that treated you with respect.

A kiss on the cheek.

This looked to have been normal to you, so Jaehyun didn’t act out his surprise. But he couldn’t hide it either. His eyes widened and cheeks reddened. He felt his heart flutter in a way it never has before. You asked him for his phone number, so you could send the photo to him. And he gave you his personal number. He told himself it was so his boss doesn’t find out, he’d be fired on the spot, but the truth was that he wanted you to have his personal number for reasons other than for business.  A minute later you had to return to tending to the food and Jaehyun’s phone vibrated, notifying him that he had gotten the picture. He set it as his home screen, too nervous that someone would see his lock screen and find out.

From that day forward, Jaehyun and you became closer and closer and he let himself loosen and relax a little bit more over time as he realized he’d only be penalized if you complained to your father or the boss himself. That was unlikely because you enjoyed your time with Jaehyun, you learned. Mr. Jung seemed to be too much of a formality now that you two became close. It’s been Jaehyun to you recently.

When you would go shopping for groceries, you’d ask Jaehyun what he wanted to eat or what foods he wants. He would try to insist that he were to pay for his own food, but you would always say you were treating him. He works hard to keep you safe and buying him food is the least you can do. Eventually it became you guys battle over who gets their card out first. Trips to the cafe are fun too. Most people would mistake them for dates between a young couple. Your fans take photos of you guys all the time, and it’s surprising Jaehyun hasn’t gotten a warning from his higher ups about how close you guys seem. What he didn’t know was that you told them it was fine, and that you still felt safe.

One night you were scheduled to perform at this club on the other side of town. It was your first time in that area but you knew it wasn’t the best place to be around, but you didn’t want to decline the show for that. People aren’t their places. Jaehyun was uneasy but his job was to protect you and he knew that the job would get done right because he was doing it. What he wasn’t expecting was a fire in his chest while watching you perform, another perk of the job: free concerts. You’re music was sexy and so were your outfits. But tonight the stares from the men in the audience bothered Jaehyun to the point that even you noticed his frustration. You understood why, he didn’t like seeing you be uncomfortable. But you knew that there would always be fans like that, and that not all of them are bad so you shouldn’t treat them like so.

The concert ended and you changed into a different outfit to attend the afterparty. Another thing you were forced into doing by your company. The dress was short and the heels were high, but you only had to make an appearance, maybe greet other people here and there. If you saw someone you were friends with you’d chat with them a bit before leaving. You knew Jaehyun didn’t like being there just as much as you did so you aimed to leave whenever you found a chance to.

After drinking your third glass of water so that no one would ask to buy you a drink you had to use the restroom. You told Jaehyun and he followed you through the crowd, making sure no one’s wandering hands got to close. When you two made it to the bathroom you asked Jaehyun to wait while you went in. He nodded and stood in position as you left.

The restrooms of the club were just like the set-up of your house in the sense that they are connected to the dance floor but are sectioned off with long hallways. On the left side was the woman’s and the right side the men’s. It wouldn’t be appropriate for Jaehyun to wait by the girl’s room so he had to wait outside both bathrooms. He kept an eye out for anyone who may look suspicious, as his job required him to, but only other woman went to the restroom and they were clearly a bit too intoxicated to pose much of a threat so there was no worry.

Then a man in a leather jacket, dark sunglasses, and bright pink hair began striding towards the bathrooms. He was a singer from another company, notorious for being a ladies man. He seemed gentle to his fans but everyone in the loop knew he was bad news. No one could even tell the world about his true side due to the fact that his popularity surpassed most ten fold and he’s one of the most powerful celebrities on the market; no one would believe a single word spoken against him. You ranted to Jaehyun about this man some time ago and told him that his stage name is Vince but his real name is Vincent, which he hated for it’s vibe it gave off. Recently in an article of an interview given by Vince, he admitted to being interested in you. His fans were going crazy over it, both good and bad, but you made it clear that you didn’t want anything to do with him privately. He didn’t like being told no and said you’d come around eventually.

Jaehyun stopped Vince before he could enter. “No one is to come beyond this point.”

“It’s  a public restroom. Get out of my way.” Vince tried to step past Jaehyun but he wouldn’t let him.

“And it’s my job to make sure no one crosses here.”

“I just saw about three drunk girls stumble their way past you and you didn’t even offer your assistance. Now that a sober man has arrived suddenly it’s an issue? Who’s your supervisor?” Vince clearly wasn’t sober, the stench of alcohol was very pungent. And his anger was rising so that’s another sign. Vince pushed Jaehyun first, but before Jaehyun could act a voice called from behind him.

“I am. Care to speak with me?” Neither of them noticed you’ve arrived since you didn’t make any noise. You had overheard the beginning of their conversation when you were done in the restroom and thought it would be better to see what Jaehyun would do in this situation. It was a surprise that he hadn’t clocked Vince in the jaw the moment he shoved him.

“Miss Y/N, what an honor. Magnificent show tonight. ‘A sight for sore eyes’ you could call it.” Vince winked, causing you to grow more disgusted.

“I’ll be leaving now. Glad you enjoyed the show.” You said sarcastically and rolled your eyes before walking away. Vince grabbed your wrist and in an instant Jaehyun was ripping him away from you and slamming Vince’s body against the wall.

“You are to never place your fucking hands on her again or I swear to god I will pull the gun I have in it’s holster on you so fast you won’t get the chance to see your life flash before your eyes.” You couldn’t hear this, Jaehyun only whispered it into Vince’s ear. Terror covered his vision and Vince feverishly nodded, silently begging to be let go. No one was around, so no scene was cause thankfully. You were shocked to say the least, but something in you liked the way Jaehyun went from sweet to overpowering.

Jaehyun let go of Vince and he ran away, forgetting about the potential one night stands he could have scored in the bathroom. Jaehyun was beyond annoyed and grabbed your hand; something he’s never done before. Even over the loud music playing in the club you could still hear your heart beating in your chest. You looked up at Jaehyun’s face and saw his eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched. You wondered what he was thinking, since it was hard to tell with him. You squeezed his hand to try and comfort him but he removed it after realizing he was touching you.

“Don’t stop.” You said, linking your arms and fingers with his. You never thought it would feel this good to hold Jaehyun’s hand. How would it feel to have his arms around you in an embrace? Warm, you would assume. But not the physical type of warmth, the kind that raises butterflies to flutter in your stomach and your heart to pound in your ears. That’s how you felt thinking about a hug from your bodyguard, your employee. Wrong yes, but did you stop imagining? Not for a moment.

While Jaehyun brought you to the car he sadly let go of your hand then to go to the drivers side. A hug moved into a cheek kiss, much like the one you innocently gave him before when he was momentarily a fan and not your protector. A cheek kiss escalated into a real one, you would be ashamed if anyone discovered you began to feel wet down there. You cross your legs and pull your shorts down with clenched fists, bringing over Jaehyun’s attention and concern.

“Miss Y/N? Are you alright?” He asked with worry coating his words. ISt took no genius to see that something was on your mind.

“Can you pull over for a minute?” Jaehyun did as you asked swiftly, thinking you were going to be sick and wanted to stop the car to get some air. The moment of silence that came after was unsuspected.

“I something the matter?” Jaehyun asked after he turned the car off to save excess fuel.

“You’re the best, do you know that? My father could not have picked anyone else to do your job.” You began, not knowing where you were planning to go with the conversation. All you knew was that you had to admit what you’ve been holding tightly to yourself or else you’d explode. Before Jaehyun could ask what you had meant, you kept speaking. “I’m sorry that I feel this way but I just wanted you to know that you are the best out there and that if this is going to make you doing your job harder or uncomfortable I completely understand if you ask for a relocation. I’ll be alright if you leave.”

“Why would I leave you?” Jaehyun thought he was being fired and he started racking his brain for things that could have caused you to come to that decision.

“You’d leave because I think I’m falling in love with you.” Like every other man did when you told them your real feelings.

“Think or Know?” Was all he said, as if it were factual.

“Know.” You said truthfully. You kept your eyes on the ground, not daring to meet his eye and watch him reject you. Your heart would break once more.

“You have no idea how long I have wanted to hear those words come from you.” You heard his voice ring, making you look at him with shock. At that moment you felt lips onto yours and a hand cupping your cheek. His lips were soft and tasted like watermelon chapstick. His breath was minty and you would wonder when he had the time to chew a piece of gum or suck on a mint if he hadn’t poked his tongue out to ask for entrance permission. It would be stupid of you to deny something you wanted with all of your being.

It’s a good thing your windows were tinted. Paparazzi would have gotten quite the show if they hadn’t been.

His lips roamed your body before pulling away to move his seat all the way back. “Come here.” He asked, even though his dominance was in the comment his voice was like honey, as if he was a child asking for a puppy. You climbed over and sat on his lap, your chests facing each other. He pulled you for another kiss as your arms began undoing the buttons of his suit and dress shirt. His own hands roamed to your shorts, sliding them off of you with ease. His finger traced your panties, noticing how much you wanted him through the wetness soaking through them. He gripped your hips and pushed you against his thigh. He lifted his leg to increase the pressure against your core, evoking a moan from your throat. He swallowed it gleefully and continued to move you back and forth against his leg. You pulled his hair and watched him bite his lip. You grabbed his hand that he was using to move your body against his and placed it at your core. He Slipped his thumb under the elastic and began flicking your clit, you moved your hips harder against his thigh, feeling the pit of your stomach tightening. Jaehyun pulled his head into your neck and placed butterfly kisses all over. He knew you were close by how your eyes squinted shut and hips bucked faster. He knew he couldn’t be parked her much longer, it was the side of the road for crying out loud, but if he could please you that was enough for him.

Sure enough, right before your orgasm, Jaehyun saw red and blue lights in his rear view mirror.

“Fuck.” He cursed, gliding you off and putting his jacket on your legs, covering your panties. He quickly fixed his shirt and his hair before the officer knocked on his window. After the two of you took a few breaths, Jaehyun rolled the window down.

“Good evening, officer.” Jaehyun said with his million dollar smile.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t touching yourself under his coat. All you could think was Jaehyun better get rid of this cop soon or else you may not be able to wait any longer.

Redemption returned

Grotesque is a word that got here to thoughts when a woman pulls her legs via the doors of a dirty clinic. She swayed, felt unusual chilly in that notably drained August countryside. But the rough surroundings was not to blame for the chilly surrounding his body. It was his purpose to step in. His world, filled with journey and joy, was now bullied. It had grow to be detached to him.

The woman was able to verify that there was a life that had been combined inside her for 5 weeks – the life she had fairly unintentionally helped to create an unlucky, drunk one night time

She felt the same sudden nausea that was involved each week before within the presence of a double line in a home being pregnant check window. Wait,. . . what do two strains mean? This can’t happen. He tore another check – two bold blue strains. S ***. He stepped out and pulled out without considering of a cigarette that remained secure till he threw it violently into the ground. Ugh, guess it out. He drove to his telephone within the early morning mild, he rolled his identify. He hesitated, then met it, and when the ring got here, he tried as soon as to take away the throat. "Hey, it's me. I'm sorry, I know it is early. Can you… Can you talk about the minutes?"

He had referred to as her to drive to the clinic, which was drained in the morning. Whether moral help or curiosity, he did not know and He was simply the only soul he had informed, principally his catholic colleague, pal, roommate and household he had to maintain in the dead of night. The thought of ​​telling them about this hellish mess was incomprehensible, even horrifying.

Nurse, kindly center an previous lady referred to as her back with a chipper. The woman glanced at her companion, and she or he took her hand rigorously to her, guided her to the exam room and helped her to the desk the place she hurriedly raised her shirt.

"Sorry, I have an hour," she muttered eyes fell. "Remember if we do this fast?"

"Of course", Sick The gunner answered sympathetically with a smile. ”Here we go, this seems a bit chilly for the second time. Let's see. Yeah, take a look at that cluster there? It's your child, honey. ”

The woman stared on the black and white image of the display as her coldness went warm and cozy with a dark numbness. He discovered his father's eyes, sincerely in search of his reaction to direct his personal difficult emotions. "I'm here every step of the way, no matter what you decide," he broke: "We are in this together, okay?"

He nodded and closed his eyes. Scorching, indignant tears nervous and tune his face. His body began to tighten and tremble. He pressured himself to observe his baby once more as a result of the contradictory thoughts ran in. I don't want you. You have been born to a mother who regretted you within the moment she noticed you. What if that is the one opportunity for a kid? What do I see extra? Here the rubber strikes the street. Can I stay with myself if I didn't say to you? I would like you. I want you. I hate you. I really like you.

The woman squeezed her hand and turned to the nurse. "Thank you," he stated, respiration deeply. "Yeah, what's next?"

"It's utterly yours, pricey. It's your body, isn't it? ”

– – –

5. August 2015, I made a decision to cease an individual who might have taken his first life on March 29, 2016. I like those days of mourning a toddler who existed however by no means lived outdoors my physique. I respect her by naming her, talking to her, crying for her, praying to her. For a kid who would have melted my coronary heart regardless of the terrible three. A youngster who would in all probability have stored me at night time in moms angst. The boy's father – and the younger man, husband and father – was robbed of the chance to return.

I mirrored sufferers back to this terrible August, many occasions, many occasions ever since, spending hours and hours hardly ultrasound. It’s wrinkled and worn out of my busy retreat to my hometown's arrow wound; as a result of once I stopped being pregnant, and left abruptly out of faculty, I found little purpose to remain. Each a part of me (theoretically) lives a Catholic, passionate graduate scholar, a hopeful author, an educational, a superb and trustworthy one that was crushed in a number of months. For me, these months have been recognized for years. I spent them buried deep in Netflix, hiding eating and crazy social media, feeling myself in the face of anger and contempt.

I received bone fracturing and nervous nausea. I have shed twenty kilos. My hair started to thin and fall. My skin turned pale, uninteresting, embedded. The art of conversation and human interplay slipped. I literally couldn't convey myself away from bed to eat, drink or even exit if I might help it. My buddies began to fret, however I ignored their call and hid in my room once they tried to examine me out. My household had gone to panic, wondering what was incorrect with me. I used to be astonishingly shortly destroyed my former self in a fragile shell.

When a bright-eyed woman with a vivid shell discovered myself tireless, that was the thing of this unforgivable Evil I had completed. This factor I might by no means take again. This thing, as I firmly consider years later, which I might by no means forgive myself – and by no means forgive by God or man.

It’s typically stated that God's work in our life is a mystery that we might be foolish to attempt to understand. I was so scared to share my nervousness about what I might have completed to a toddler – the soul I might have created together with a careless, lustful renunciation – that I didn't dare to go close to the church for almost a yr. I used to be satisfied that I used to be committed to hell and I was out of all salvation. My desperation stored me so tight that I felt I might by no means smile again. It’s unimaginable to imagine that I might ever love – or be beloved – again. For who might love me after I had carried out one thing so selfish, so terrifying?

And I had carried out this for a simple cause that I felt like I couldn’t be a single mother because I used to be determined to be afraid that my attack on high functioning alcoholism quickly began. I moved with my mother and father and began a job search as a result of the unfinished diploma was virtually ineffective. During this era of unemployment began to mingle eagerly, hopping from group to group, in order that nobody would discover how much I drank. Soon, what I referred to as a "social" drink turned normal on most days of the week – 4 or 5 robust drinks. I typically ran residence to my disgrace once I was quite upset – but I never thought I used to be consuming. Spend the weekends with a spell of different "friends" who did not know me afterwards. Sleeping, sleep deprived on a regular basis mornings have been my new commonplace.

Over the subsequent two years, I was capable of plan workplaces that assorted extensively between publishing and cutting-edge know-how for international intelligence and fundraising, however I never took a long time to get kicked out of each job. I used to be indignant, unknown and boastful, clocked out and in with out problem learning and working with others. I hid my wrestle with the inadequacy of indulging in a corrosive comparability by way of social media with other Millennials who I imagined was a perfect and carefree life. This rising resentment unfold shortly and became firmly rooted in My Character. I used to be miserable and shimmering, unable to be thankful for what I had: a loving household, monetary and emotional help, and pals who pale the recurring storms of our atmospheric and isolated occasions.

escape MO did work,. . . Until it was. July 21, 2017 I was (rightly) arrested for drunk driving.

I consider that in the shadow of doubt, if I had not been arrested, I might have determined to kill myself or one other individual, God's ban. I spent twenty-four horrifying hours in jail until my father and brother saved me. Once we drove residence in hidden silence, I used to be amazed at the terrible implementation of what I might have accomplished. I had found the base. After years of failure – personal, skilled, and religious – I was desperate to vary my life. However how? What might probably be a enough substitute for the fact that alcohol has all the time given me, without failure?

At night time, my younger brother, Tacos, fell sharply, however kindly asked me to get assist with all the things he needed. He advised me that the twister I had come – to tear my approach within the lives of others, in addition to mine – was not acceptable. Simply two weeks after my arrest, I came across a help group for alcohol use. It is a marvelous organization that has helped me to realize and keep respect for alcohol since October 2, 2017. By means of day by day meetings, lively service, religious self-discipline and a singular connection, it has now turn into a mannequin of my life.

Without it, I couldn’t have referred to as the facility to forgive myself, let go of my previous and let God construct with me and do with me the best way He needs. Solely once I search for assist, I might see my despair not as a curse however as a present

Typically, as Paul Newman's Luke Jackson says, there may be no real cool hand.

– – –

Once I ran into this furious group, hungry for the which means and function that had looked at me in Catholicism, I discovered myself wandering atheism, agnostism and Buddhism. My anger in the direction of the Church swept and slowly eroded the assumption every day.

Then, once I was working in the twelve steps, I slowly started to experience mental change and religious awakening. I’ve discovered to differentiate uskonni foaming petition sentimental and superficial sentimentality, which had all the time given me permission to share myself and Mr. Dr. Jekylliin Hydeen. I might be my Catholic Character once I took random sexual encounters which are typically delivered to a fruitless company to destroy my conscience. In my social life, I turned an professional in mask Jungian when anybody else of morphene needed me to be. Without the self-sufficiency of the interior mechanism I’ve discovered to control others to awaken specific emotions that might strengthen increasingly more delicate and fleeting self. I obtained in and went to my beloved one's life as I used to be happy with the livid and chaotic hurricane without remorse.

Once I finally referred to as for the braveness to ask God (and myself) for forgiveness, I used to be not on the lookout for a Catholic priest. As an alternative, my "liberty" and healing got here from David, a self-described brazenly homosexual, seventies, whose deviation from the priesthood forty years in the past induced cruel wounds that persecuted him at the moment. We developed intimate recent friendships that I might be grateful eternally. Through the years, my trauma broke down David's palms late within the night time as he struck uncontrollably as he held me a starry, quiet sky.

"Why are you crying?" He asked for a while. [19659002] "I am… Bad," vapors of the wells. "I can not forgive. I'm a murderer. I have killed my own child."

David checked out me mix of horror and compassion. "But you have not destroyed or convicted. You have got been redeemed via Christ. He beloved you then. He loves you very much. ”

Tears stopped all of a sudden, obtrusive respiration slowed." Is he? "I asked, vast eyes and I was afraid of his answer." How can you be so sure? " 19659002] "Because He is greater than any pain you suffered, suffered now or ever", David replied with a relaxing peace that stopped me on my tracks. "You've heard from us a thousand occasions – pay attention! Get away from God whenever you perceive God. Trust Him day by day. Clear the home every single day, serve others, day by day, and then do it once more the subsequent day. In the future at a time. ”

I might simply stare at him foolish I replied vividly that a tremendous smile, his eyes shining when he stated, "I believe so." You must attempt it. ”

So I did.

Maddeningly slowly but certainly, bodily, mental, emotional, and mental sensitivity began to forgive me the uninteresting pain that was not only struck out I need to reside. I threw myself again into my very own life and confirmed increasingly more to my family members – typically in nice ways, but principally in small ones. Every time I made a mistake, I admitted it instantly and asked God what corrective measures I should take. I gave Him a self-discipline to my wild and obscure spirit as my line of will – which had previously been in riot – was ever nearer to Him.

I started to wish every morning and night for others as an alternative of myself. Although this was initially mechanical, I really began to study what was referred to as to me a man and a lady who continues to be sick. I ended preventing my demons and confessed them. Each time I felt aroused or suspicious, I interrupted and requested God to assume or act, which might give me the braveness to adapt the serenity to the accident.

In the long run, he lit the trail to my house church – when I discovered a unprecedented compassion and a resignation from the same Catholic group that I had wrongly assumed would condemn me strictly. But I'm sad that we acerbic-cultural and non secular dialogue provides rise to unnecessary suffering of different ladies who, like me, noticed solely despair and hope within the midst of demise and new life. I say to them: You’ll never ever be alone.

Is that this a cheerful return house that answers come once I need them to be? Typically. At different occasions I can't see them, and ask him for steerage or pay attention in a different way

Have you ever discovered to be pleased more often than not? Isn't that the case?

It's by no means. I mean by no means.

I mean this: As soon as upon a time my detached world has turn into enchanted. I mean, I started digging my life again. I've discovered to offer myself a dream once more, attempt once more, fail once more, love once more, harm once more – not again.

I even dared to chuckle at myself and with the world again. And that is the miracle.

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