#(this is not the only time I forcibly adopted adults into our family as a child) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

skylarstark4826 · 6 months

Text

“How did you end up with the Suli family?” Rotxo asks one quiet evening. He’s sitting with Spider, helping him make nets while the others rush around elsewhere, probably readying dinner for their large patchwork of a family. In some ways they are still separate. Tsireya, and Rotxo are still more likely to listen to Ao’nung rather than Neteyam and he himself only listens to Neteyam, Kiri and the adults but they are coming together.

“What do you mean?” He asks, lying it out simple for the other to explain himself with. He knows how Spider ended up a Suli, officially, and it’s not a pleasant story. His healed leg aches on bad days, his hands tremble always, and it’s not easy, but it;’s the world he lives in now and he’s long accepted his place as a Suli instead of a Socorro. “I mean were you close with them before you were brought in?” There isn’t a Na’vi word for taken forcibly and Rotxo wouldn’t say that, if only because he doesn’t want to earn Neytiri and Neteyam’s ire. He himself can understand that, and his leg twinges, just a little bit. He also doesn’t know how to answer the question. Yes he was close with some of the Suli family but he and Neytiri didn't belong to each other for a very long time.

The truth of the matter is that it’s complicated and Spider says so to Rotxo. He looks sad almost, like a kicked baby ilu. The mean part of Spider, the part he is always tampering down says let him be sad, let him feel hurt for he never soothed Spider’s hurt, never helped him run.This part is growing quiter by the day and the part that says look at this family you have been provided grows louder. He listens to the kinder part and asks, “Is there something you’re looking to achieve?” Rotxo squirms, and won’t look at him. He recognizes this behavior from Kiri when she really wants something but doesn’t have the words. It’s okay. He waits calmly and patiently for Rotxo to be ready to speak. He is used to hours of this, minutes do not phase him. Eventually Rotxo says, face flushed, “I want to belong to my family as you do your own.” Oh for all the things someone to ask him, it's this. Why is it this

“Do they not love you enough?” He asks gently, very fucking confused because he knows that Ao’nung adores his younger best friend and that Reya loves him like a brother. Instantly Rotxo is shaking his head, gesturing wildly as his tail starts to flick in irritation. Spider’s pretty sure that he learned several of the ruder ones from Lo’ak but he isn’t going to tell. “I mean do they treat you like my family treats me?” Rotxo stops making horribl;e gestures that he probably doesn’t know the meaning of and shakes his head. Problem established, and now he can fix it, or maybe make it worse, depending on what he’s feeling at the moment.

First thing’s first, establish what Rotxo actually wants and go from there. “What do you want from our family?” He says, and makes it as blunt as possible. Rotxo flushes and murmurs something quick under his breath. He waits, continuing to work on his net top, similar to what Reya wears only more tightly knit. “I want to be a brother to them, not like a brother, I want them to adopt me as they did you.” Surprisingly he doesn’t sound jealous or resentful, he sounds calm and at ease. “Our family,” he says, emphasizing the our , “took me in because I belong to Neteyam, always have. For a long time I got away with being a little shit but when I well you know, Neteyam snapped I guess. If you wanted to, you could try the same tactics.”

Rotxo smiles sadly, “I’ve already tried acting out for attention. Once, only a few moons before the suli family arrived, I left for three days without telling Ao’nung where I went. He yelled at me but he didn’t do anything to stop me, you know?” That’s fucking insane. Spider even during his skxawang years, never ever left Neteyam for longer than a day, mostly because he wanted to be with the Na’vi as often as possible but now he recognizes that some part of him knew, even then that it wouldn't go well.

“That was really fucking stupid,” he says, wonder lacing his tone. Rotxo nods, “I know, and it didn’t even work. I spent three days feeling horrible and I didn’t even get what I want.” He pats his friend (brother?) on the hand. “I can tell you a little bit about my past with Teyem and Kiri if you want, see if that helps somehow.” Rotxo nods eagerly, so he starts with the first time he met Neteyam, also known as the time his entire life changed.

“Well it all started with a tree…”

“What are you doing?” He startles, falling right down on his butt. He hisses, a sound that the science-men make when they’re upset, a sound that they only make when they’re in their avatars. He likes the sound, like he likes the Na’vi language. The science men taught it to him before they tried to teach him english . He doesn’t like english so he never speaks it, even when people as him questions in it. He’d rather speak Na’vi cause it’s sense and sounds like home. He suddenly remembers that someone asked him a question so he turns round, smiling at the blue boy and girl who are lots taller then he is. He hears the boy wondering if he’s a boy or a girl so he decides the answer the question. “Imma boy,” he says simply, “and I’m trying to climb tree.” The two Na’vi stare at him for a moment before the boy smiles. “I teach you,” he offers. The girl comes closer, staring at him before ruffling his hair with a gentle hand.

He likes these two people, they are kind and make him feel good. “You put your hands on the knobby things.” the boy says politely, so he turns around and does so. He finds this much easier and suddenly after a few more instructions he’s up in the trees, swinging from branch to branch. “Spider,” the boy calls, so he looks down to ask what a Spider is. “You’re Spider. That’s your new name.” He thinks about this and decides that being Spider is much better then being Miles, a name that the science-men say and look upset afterwards. He decides that he’s going to be Spider from now on. “

There’s a beat of silence, and then Roxto asks, “How old were you?” He shrugs, “I think I was about four or so.” He’s hit with the impression that if Rotxo had eyebrows they’d be raised to sky right now. “Why were you out alone that young. I know Neteyam and Kiri are older then you so that makes a little more sense but why were you left alone.” He makes a vague noise of ‘I don’t know’ , “The science-men were really busy so I kinda escaped a lot.” Rotxo looks pained. He sighs very softly and says,” In our clan children are never left alone until they prove they can survive without too much help. Actually, why were Kiri and Neteyam allowed to be alone in the forest?” He shrugs,” Teyam was a very violent child, and Jake trusted him to protect Kiri.” He remembers the many times that Neteyam hunted down other children and left them bloody for daring to hurt him or Lo’ak. In hindsight he really should have seen the whole force adoption thing coming.

As he’s musing on this, Ao’nung and Neteyam enter the pod, chatting about something or other, obviously enjoying each other's company. Suddenly Spider sees a way to fix Rotxo’s problem and get himself some extra privileges at the same time. “Hey Teyam, Ao’nung can you come over here?” The two look at each other, shrug and walk over. Rotxo hisses, “what do you think you’re doing?” but Spider ignores him. “Rotxo thinks you don’t love him as your brother because you’ve never stopped him from doing anything nor has anyone in your family punished him for messing up.” He tattles quickly, making sure everything gets out before Rotxo claps a hand over his mouth. Neteyam yanks him into his arms, freeing him from Rotxo. Ao’nung however is staring at Rotxo, mouth agape. “So you’re telling,” Ao’nung starts slowly, “that every single one of your stupid, pointless stunts, like running away for three days was to get my attention?” Rotxo starts to wither, shrinking into himself at the sharp anger in Ao’nung’s voice. “You know, I thought that listening to my father would be for the best, that it would be completely logical to let you remain only as your parent’s son but I think I was wrong.”

Netayam laughs, says, “I’ve told you before that parents really shouldn’t get to make the decisions when you know better than they do. Also you should have asked Ronal.” Ao’nung does an imitation of flipping Neteyam off and turns back to Rotxo who’s curled in on himself, obviously afraid. “You are mine,” He says, gently but firmly. “You are mine, ma apre’ano, have been since the day we took you in.” Rotxo smiles, flinging himself into Ao’nung who catches him and hugs him tightly. They stay like that even when Tsireya and Kiri walk into the pod, stopping at the doorway when they notice how the four of them are tightly clustered together. “Did something happen?” Kiri asks, and Neteyam laughs, the sound filling up the hut. “Rotxo and Ao’nung are finally getting their shittogether.” Reya and Kiri both laugh, coming to join them in the little circle. It takes a while for Ao’nung and Rotxo to come apart but the second they do, Reya’s tackling Rotxo, murmuring to him.

Eventually the adults come back, and they all sit down to eat. Halfway through dinner Ao’nung speaks up for the first time “Rotxo, if you ever try running away again, I will break both of your legs. Tonowari stares at his children in concern and Ronal says, “Finally.” Neytiri pats her on the arm and dinner continues on.

28 notes · View notes

jcmorrigan · 3 years

Note

Somehow, I can imagine Vinny, Al and Victor ""adopting"" Taylor so...👀

I’m just going to do this one off the top of my head and see what happens

-Taylor was accepted into RMU, but oh no! They don’t have enough money to cover the dorms. Their parents are just “It’s too bad you don’t have any friends in G4 to stay with″ and Taylor realizes...oh no...I have friends in G4.

-They didn’t want to admit how much they actually hoped Revenge House would accept them when they called. Taylor will tell anyone who asks that they called for the sole purpose of getting shot down and ruling this out.

-Vincent: “I see. Well - “ Albert: “YES” Victor: “I’ll fix up the guest bedroom” Vincent: “...I guess you’re staying with us then”

-There are a few house rules. Don’t go in the basement (there are cyborgs in there). Don’t roam the house after curfew (that’s when we let the cyborgs out). Don’t feed Winston (Taylor isn’t sure if this one is a joke or an actual warning).

-Otherwise they get a pretty nice bedroom, soft bed, quality blankets. Not soundproof and they can hear the screams and weird metallic noises from the rooms two floors down, but hey, they won’t complain.

-At first, the guys pretty much leave Taylor to their own devices. That’s the nice thing about them being a legal adult: they don’t actually have to be good or attentive parents

-Victor and Albert are the two who pay them the most attention. Victor actually carries on conversation like a normal person. Well, mostly. He still always kind of sounds like he’s gathering information to use for nefarious purposes, but Taylor’s used to that by now. Also being called “my dear Taylor” was offputting at first but now they see it’s a genuine term of affection.

-Albert is...an interesting guardian. He’s always approaching Taylor to talk about non sequiturs, usually morbid, and Taylor has gotten used to this and kind of enjoys it. “Speaking purely in hypotheticals, what do you think tastes better: the spleen or the lungs?” “Spleen. Why are you even asking me this? That one’s obvious.”

-But weirdly Albert is in exchange the one who actively cares the most for Taylor. He makes sure they’re stocked up on supplies, and by that I mean Taylor enters their designated bathroom to find no fewer than twenty toothbrushes, all different colors, bound with a ribbon and a note that says “Pick your favorite! ~AK”

-Also instead of taking them shopping for new college wardrobe, Taylor is awoken at 6 a.m. by a phone call from Albert. “I’m at Hot Topic and they have an assortment of androgynous leather accessories. What’s your size?”

-Vincent and Taylor don’t interact much, at first. But they develop a relationship based on their lack of relationship. They both enjoy the value of comfortable silence. They can be in the same room doing separate things and know they don’t have to bother with greeting one another outside of a quick nod or 0.2 seconds of eye contact.

-Right away, though, they all make it clear that Taylor gets free food. The trio does their usual routine of making extremely high-quality luxury food and just lets Taylor chill out doing nothing until the dinner bell rings. The catch is that some of these things, they weren’t sure were food before this, but hey, turns out they don’t hate sashimi.

-Classes start. Every day when Taylor gets home and brings their books and assignments of the day to the dining room to study, Albert and Victor flock around them. Albert: “How was school? Did you make any lasting memories? Do you have an ARCHNEMESIS yet?” Victor: “Does Professor Browne still have a stick up his ass, metaphorically speaking? Has anyone of your preferred gender asked you out yet?”

-Until dinner time, the dining room is Taylor’s study sanctuary.

-They know better than to bring friends home, however. Not a single college pal who’s entered Revenge House has left with at all a good feeling. Some of them have considered calling the cops because there’s no way these people aren’t going to murder Taylor in the dead of night (sillies...Taylor’s the one person they WON’T murder in the dead of night)

-And as for dates? Unfortunately, the few times Taylor has been asked out, they’ll keep it secret and arrange a meetup at a neutral location and show up at the restaurant only to, halfway through the date, realize that they can spot distinct flashes of pink, red, and black positioned around the restaurant like the Bermuda Triangle and greeeaaat, their guardians followed them to spy on the date.

-Which isn’t always bad because one time somebody actually tried to take advantage of Taylor in the alley out back of the restaurant and before any articles of clothing could be forcibly removed, the offender practically explodes from the impact of being shot by Victor, punched by Vincent, and stabbed by Albert at the same time (the bullet almost clipped Albert but it was worth it)

-Taylor’s never sure how to introduce these people. Parents? Guardians? Friends? Roommates? Usually, it ends up something like “This is my...this is...this is Vincent. He’s Vincent. That’s it.”

-They go out as a “family” unit sometimes, usually to dinner or something where they can all just have conversation. There’s usually going to be some rando who walks past the guys and goes “Your daughter is adorable!” and Albert pulls out a rather long and wicked knife while saying “Their preferred pronouns are they/them, and I HIGHLY suggest you respect that.” Victor and Vincent glare on in the background.

-Taylor is torn because they like having guardians who respect their gender identity but also some of these people are just making honest mistakes

-Victor: “I just want to warn you that when you engage with other college students, you may be pressured to try smoking, drinking, and other narcotics. In a strange environment, any of these may be laced with poison or spiked with different drugs. Here in Vincent’s mansion, our stashes are always pure, so if there’s anything you want, just ask us and we will get you a safe supply.” (Though “safe cigarettes” and “safe hard liquor” are oxymorons to a 19 y/o but Victor is trying. Taylor doesn’t even want any of those things)

-Sometimes, though........Taylor has to be the parent figure to these three

-They might end up trying to drink away their sorrows, falling asleep in a vomit-covered living room. Taylor will clean up any obvious mess and get them some pillows.

-Taylor: “So, did you ever want to...talk to me any more about the childhood stuff that was bothering you?” Albert: “...Yes”

-One night, though, they make a big breakthrough. They find evidence for the Myers revenge scheme and confront Vincent with it.

-Vincent tells them everything. Not without getting a little emotional.

-Taylor’s just like “Oh.”

-Somehow this turns into a hug.

-The guys FORBID Taylor from getting directly involved with Myers. That said...they do act a consultation role sometimes.

-Eventually they meet some of the basement cyborgs. Also they’ve gotten pretty friendly with the Dream Eaters. If all the guys are out of the house and Winston is doing his usual hermit thing, Taylor will be “babysat” by a group of awkward yet well-meaning monsters. (The Dream Eaters have been instructed to keep the cyborgs from eating Taylor, though, and they’ve had to actually step in several times. The Dream Eaters also like the taste of human flesh but Albert said this one is NOT FOOD so they respect that.)

-Those days when the guys come home dragging a corpse/an unconscious person, and Taylor catches them, and the guys stare at them like deer in headlights until they say “I never saw this. Carry on.”

-At some point, though, Taylor decides they want a little more, so they suggest “Do you guys wanna go to the mall and catch a movie?”

-Cue a mall trip that involves Vincent criticizing all the secondhand clothing, Victor flirting with the cashiers at every boutique, and nobody knows exactly what Albert is up to but there’s blood leaking from the dressing room so let’s not ask.

-They go to see a fall blockbuster that Taylor really enjoys and the three guys are having varying degrees of enjoyment toward. If it’s got deep themes, Vincent will be happy. If it’s got romance, Victor will be happy. If it’s horror, Albert will be happy. If it’s a superhero film, NOBODY BUT TAYLOR IS HAPPY (so they kind of like taking the guys to Marvel stuff to annoy them on purpose)

-They talk the guys into accompanying them on other Taylor-style adventures. Like bowling. Bowling was either the best or the worst idea they had, because it turned into a four-person DEATH MATCH. (Figuratively, this time. Maybe literally next time.)

-Vincent draws a HARD LINE IN THE SAND at pizza, though. He will not even look at a pizza, let alone eat one or enter a pizza establishment.

-After some months, Taylor and Vincent are conversing more, but it’s usually Taylor asking questions about how the legal system works because Vincent can explain it better than anyone else and in a way that doesn’t fly over Taylor’s head.

-Sometimes, though...Taylor gets sick. The first time, they didn’t actually expect any of the guys to do anything about it. But Vincent drops off hot meals without a word and leaves, and rude as he is, the food’s always DELICIOUS and particular faves of Taylor’s. Victor is the “Text me if you need anything, sweetie” guy who will drop everything if Taylor needs an ice pack or a barf bin. Albert will sit in the room at a safe distance to talk to Taylor about random things and make sure they don’t get lonely. Also, Taylor will have weirdly no nightmares whatsoever, and they know Albert has something to do with this.

-Sometimes...Taylor is sad. All three of the guys will sit around them, encouraging them to talk about everything that’s bothersome. Brief hugs will be exchanged (Victor’s are a bit too tight since, y’know, metal arms, but that’s fine by Taylor). And then if there was a particular entity that caused the sadness, well, that entity might end up dead in a pool of blood in a back alley later.

-There’s also a contract on the table stating that if Taylor is ever incarcerated, then Vincent, Victor, and Albert will break them out of jail at the earliest convenience. Taylor isn’t sure when this will ever have to be used but they’re glad it’s there.

-They make an even more amazing meal than usual for Taylor’s birthday and spend way, WAY too much on gifts. Some of which aren’t even things Taylor wanted (”It’s...a baseball bat with barbed wire around it. Uh...just what I always wanted? Thanks, Albert.”)

#vincent edgeworth #victor blake #albert krueger #taylor lee #blakeworther #ask to tag for content #somehow i REBLOGGED this instead of tagging it the first time #i blame tumblr

87 notes · View notes

fericita-s · 3 years

Text

One of my favorite things about Dangerous Secrets is how it shows the real, awful consequences of separating children from their culture.

Iduna, already orphaned, but living with a group of Northuldra at the time of the battle, lives the rest of her life in Arendelle cut off from her culture. This alienation is a critically important part of the tragedy of the sisters’ separation and the way that lies and secrets weigh on the royal family in such a heavy way that it literally ends up drowning Agnarr and Iduna.

One of the cultural touchstones we see Iduna use during her teen and adult life is knitting. She begins the book by running off from the knitting Yelana wants her to do. Her desire to get her shawl in the midst of battle is what puts Agnarr in her path at the critical moment of decision. The shawl is her only possession she has from her own mother and in Arendelle, it is the only Northuldra item she has at all.

On the doomed ship, Iduna begins work on a new shawl, absentmindedly starting the same elemental pattern. When she explains it to Agnarr, she tells him about the four elements represented in it. She does not say anything about a fifth spirit. It’s unclear if she keeps that from him or if she doesn’t know, but my guess is she doesn’t know. This is the night she tells him everything, and since that remains unsaid, I don’t think she knew about it. She left her home at twelve, before kids fully grasp the meaning and details of the stories they have been absorbing like air - not even aware of its presence until its absence. How might knowing about a fifth spirit have influenced how she thought about Elsa and her future?

Yelana, after witnessing Elsa’s magical powers and listening to Olaf’s recap of why they’re in the forest, immediately asks “Why would nature reward a person of Arendelle with magic?” Yelana understood there was a connection between Elsa’s powers and nature. Iduna does not. And that’s a tragedy. She was so disconnected from her people - first by the mist, then by fear as the Arendellians continue to disparage and scapegoat the Northuldra for everything from minor inconveniences to violence - that her main goal in seeing Elsa’s power is to tell Agnarr it’s a gift because it was born out of love. But she has no idea why or how to keep their daughter safe in a kingdom that is still very fearful of magic. Their eventual visit to the trolls only confirms how scary this power will be with Elsa.

Iduna is able to retain her interest in the wind, but in Arendelle it becomes focused on how to harness its power through the use of windmills. She hopes that the wind will one day answer her call like Gale did in the forest, but it never does. She isn’t sure if Gale is trapped in the mist or just refusing to answer her.

It’s not easy to abandon her culture, but it’s inevitable. No other Northuldra made it past the mist before it descended. She is a child, on her own. Her experiences are similar to indigenous children who were forcibly taken to assimilation schools or children adopted into a new culture. And always, gnawing away at her, is the worry that perhaps the spirits are shutting her out now on purpose. Had she been older or more steeped in her cultural traditions or had an immediate family still living, it might have been harder to essentially abandon her origins. But she assimilates in order to survive, partly because she thinks her home might have chosen to cast her out.

The tragedy of that is not just visited upon her once; it becomes generational trauma. She can’t even sing a lullaby to her children without second-guessing if it’s a good idea. Seeing Anna and Elsa separated by a door must have been a unique heartbreak that she understood well after years of trying to get through the mist. If she knew more about the stories of Ahtohallan and a fifth spirit, if the only way to find answers hadn’t been to sail across the Dark Sea, how might things have ended differently?

The tragedy of her death and of the way her family is fractured is directly tied to her lack of connection to her people. It doesn’t absolve her (or Agnarr) of the decisions they made, but it helps explain them. I liked how @marimancusi used that as a theme throughout the novel, and how it made me think about the wider implications of the importance of culture and nationalism.

Thank you @the-spaztic-fantastic for our endless messaging about this! Love dissecting this book with you. And not just the romantic parts!

#dangerous secrets #agduna #Iduna #assimilation #Northuldra

48 notes · View notes

thatsonemorbidcorvid · 3 years

Text

Arina and Nina used to only meet once a week - at activities organised for the care home where Nina lived. Now, Arina is applying to become Nina's guardian, giving the 27-year-old hope she might finally be able to leave the institution where she has lived her entire adult life.

For the past few months Nina Torgashova has been able to enjoy an independence that had always been out of reach for her - shopping, cooking and washing her own clothes.

Things that would be every-day life experiences for most 27-year-olds.

But not for Nina, who has always lived in institutions, and moved when she was 18 to what, in Russia, is called a psycho-neurological care home. When the pandemic hit, she was able to savour life outside the home, with a volunteer, Arina Muratova.

Nina recalls the moment she found out she was leaving.

"I never thought anyone would take me. I had thought: "Oh no, I am going to be stuck in the care home."

It was April 2020 and the Covid-19 pandemic forced Moscow into lockdown. As visits to Nina's institution were stopped, charities lobbied for volunteers to be allowed to take responsibility for some of the residents until they could start up again.

Arina, a market research expert who loves nail art and embroidery, offered to look after Nina.

But when the 27-year-old got a taste for the freedom she'd never had, she decided she didn't want to go back.

Her 31-year-old friend was faced with a life-changing decision.

Arina has been involved in voluntary work for a decade - starting with helping children with learning difficulties and their families. She then became involved in adult care, which is when she met Nina through a Russian charity called Life Route. The charity organises trips and classes for the residents of some Russian psycho-neurological care homes (known as PNIs).

Arina started volunteering in PNI 22 - where Nina was living with hundreds of other residents - about four years ago. The care home looks after adults with a wide range of disorders, thought to relate to both cognitive disabilities and mental illness of varying severity.

Arina and Nina got to know each other through the charity Life Route which organises camps for the care home residents

Nina's diagnosis remains confidential to everyone except her care home director. This is usually the case for those residents the state judges are unable to live independently. So neither she nor Arina know why she is in the home, but Arina is surprised that she is.

Although Nina struggles with literacy and maths, Arina says she is very capable.

"She is such a quick learner and is well-adapted in everyday living," she says.

Nina was admitted to a home for disabled children when she was very young, before transferring to the PNI at 18. It is not clear whether she was taken to the children's home by her parents or was forcibly removed from their care.

She says they visited her there once, but she was frightened and hid under the bed.

"They were drunks. I was afraid. They stank of alcohol," she says.

Arina says Nina always stood out during her visits with Life Route, taking an active role in the activities and trips organised by the charity

"Nina was a very active person at her care home," says Arina. "She took part in various creative activities: amateur dramatics, arts and crafts workshops. She took part in sporting competitions, too: she played darts, she played football. Football was something she really missed after leaving the home."

When the lockdown last spring made these visits impossible, Arina suggested Zoom calls with the residents instead. But from the start is was clear this wasn't going to work - the home's internet simply wasn't strong enough. Other charities helping other care homes in Moscow and St Petersburg were facing similar problem

So these charities pressured the authorities to allow some care home residents to be released for the lockdown.

"It was all arranged in a day, and the next day the person was out. I cannot imagine anything like this before the pandemic," says Life Route's director Ivan Rozhansky.

Nevertheless Arina admits she was nervous when she made the initial decision to look after Nina. She was counting on Nina's relative independence, given she needed to work from home.

"There was a certain calculation in taking Nina. I had a lot of work to do, even during the lockdown. I realised I had to live with someone who'd be able to occupy themselves - at least some the time. With Nina it was clear that I'd be able to say: 'Now I have to work for three hours but afterwards we can make lunch together!'"

But Nina's move into the flat the charity had given the pair to live in during lockdown did get off to a slightly rocky start.

"She had very few possessions with her, just a small rucksack. She looked lost. While I was signing papers brought by the care worker, she walked around the flat. She didn't look especially overjoyed, and I had been counting on that.

"When I saw Nina looking so lost, I wondered if this had been a good idea. It's one thing to ask a person in a text if they want to move, but it's quite different to actually move them."

But not long afterwards, Arina shared a selfie with the other volunteers of herself with a grinning Nina, arms raised in joy.

Not only did Nina start shopping for food and cooking for herself, Arina arranged for her to have a maths tutor - important now she was buying things on her own.

"It's not that Nina doesn't understand things. She just never needed maths before," Arina says.

Arina herself began helping Nina with her literacy - she could read and write, but slowly and with difficulty.

"I need to be able to read and write," says Nina. "To be able to cook for myself, to go to work. I do want to have a job.

"I could make and sell friendship bracelets. I asked Arina: 'Do you know anyone who might want one?' She asked her mum, her mum was quite keen. I said: 'I will sort this!' Her mum picked the colours, Arina showed me a photo [of the colours], and I started making it."

Arina says she wanted to make sure she gave Nina responsibility for herself, rather than always taking charge, even if this did not always go to plan.

She cites the example of Nina wanting to learn to draw. Arina found another volunteer who could teach her over Zoom, and explained to Nina that she should make sure she joined the lessons. But after a while she discovered Nina had been missing some sessions.

"I don't want to chase another grown-up and pester them," says Arina. "I felt this was the kind of responsibility Nina could sustain, and we had conflicts around it."

But on another occasion Arina wanted to be more involved in Nina's life than regulations allowed.

Nina had complained of a terrible stomach ache and was admitted to hospital for several days of tests. Arina was not allowed to stay with her because she was not a relative or guardian.

"Pleas, send Nina some reassuring messages," she texted to the volunteer group chat. "Poor thing's terrified, she is having a third blood test and is scared."

Thankfully there was nothing seriously wrong.

As the Moscow lockdown eased in June, the Life Route charity was faced with a challenge.

"It became obvious that those people our foundation took to the assisted living flats for the duration of the quarantine did not want to go back to the PNI," says Ivan Rozhansky, the charity's director.

These institutions have been a focus of concern for some time.

In early 2019, Russia's deputy prime minister Tatiana Golikova ordered an inspection of living conditions in 192 psycho-neurological care homes. A consumer watchdog, Rospotrebnadzor, discovered violations of health and safety and other regulations in around 80% of them.

In January of this year Russia's Ministry of Labour introduced a number of structural changes to the provision of care for those in PNIs, including a move to help social workers provide assistance for some people in private homes rather than in state institutions.

"Obviously, all these changes will not be realised immediately on January 1, 2021, but step-by-step the situation will be changing," Golikova said.

Maria Sisneva from the charity Stop PNI says the quality of life in Russian care homes is poor.

"At a PNI you will have 500-1,000 people living in close quarters, but with very different levels of ability, and different backgrounds, different needs. They live in extremely cramped conditions, at best they'd be two to a small room, often in corridors, in spaces similar to military barracks, isolated from the outside world. They barely have any real social experience."

The director of PNI 22, where Nina was living, is clear about the benefits of care homes, however.

"The main advantage of psycho-neurological homes is security," says Anton Kliuchev. "The residents are looked after by professionals, who know exactly how to help and support them, how to talk to them, how to take care of them."

Care homes for people with specialist needs and mental illness exist all over the world. But from the mid-20th Century in the US and some European countries, a process of deinstitutionalisation started, aimed at replacing long-stay closed facilities with care within the community. Yet, in Russia care homes are still the predominant model.

According to Russian government statistics, as of February 2020 there were more than 150,000 people living in PNIs.

Unlike many countries, Russia's assisted living provision is only in its infancy. National charities believe that if this alternative system were more established, many care home residents could leave their institutions.

"Right now the system in Russia is such that if a person is believed to be insufficiently independent by the state, there is nowhere for them to go apart from a PNI, or [for those with physical disabilities] an invalids' home," says Sisneva.

Life Route began to discuss how the assisted living arrangement could be made permanent for the nine people they rehoused during lockdown. The charity rented four apartments, including one for Nina to share with fellow care home residents Sergey and Ivan. Arina moved back to her own apartment, and began instead to spend one night a week at Nina's new accommodation on rotation with other volunteers.

But there was another hurdle.

The PNI can only release their residents' care permanently to Life Route if those people have what is termed "legal capacity" - in other words, the state considers them able to function independently in theory, even if in practice they are in a care home.

Nina does not have legal capacity - all decisions about her life are made for her by the director of her PNI. As Nina is so functionally able, it is not clear why this is, though experts say it can be simply a foible of the system. If, like Nina, someone has arrived from previous care such as a children's home, and has never been properly assessed, their legal status might never be challenged.

So Arina has applied to become Nina's guardian.

"One day it just sort of clicked. And I realised I had to do it."

If her request is granted, Arina will become responsible for every element of Nina's life - financial, practical, emotional and medical. As her guardian the PNI will finally share Nina's diagnosis with her.

The process won't be straightforward, she says, involving extensive financial, physical and psychological check-ups on Arina.

"Emotionally [the decision] wasn't easy either," says Arina. "But once I took Nina out of the care home, she became my responsibility."

This all-consuming obligation might explain why there are so few people who volunteer to become legal guardians in Russia.

While Arina waits to be granted Nina's guardianship, the PNI could demand that Nina - whose state benefits they are currently losing out on - return to them at any time.

Meanwhile, Arina says she is still working out the exact role she plays in Nina's life.

"I can never be Nina's mum. I will never be able to give her the childhood she deserved."

But she accepts that Nina sees her as much more than a friend. Nina expects her presence on all important errands: to the dentist, to get her ears pierced, to get registered at the local GP.

And these new responsibilities have come at a time when life has been tough for Arina in other ways.

"It wasn't just Nina who went through a big emotional change. I went through a lot emotionally, too - during this time my salary was cut; I have had complicated developments in my personal life."

But Arina says all this has brought them closer together.

"Once you have gone through all these experiences [alongside another person], it is hard to backpedal.

"I won't say I'm not anxious about it. I'm incredibly anxious. And there are certain people around me who freak me out even more. They keep asking me. 'Have you thought it through? It's for life!'

"I calm myself down by saying that we have a plan."

That plan is to work towards eventually restoring Nina's full legal capacity.

Nina needs to be deemed independent by the state if she ever wants to live alone or get a job.

Other than Arina, she has one other close relationship - with a man called Sasha, who she met in PNI 22, and who is now in assisted living in a different apartment. Nina regularly meets up with Sasha in the city, and is clearly fond of him. Arina is aware that Nina may want to eventually marry and she would need legal capacity for that too.

So Arina hopes Nina's tutoring will give her the option to be assessed at some point.

"Examiners look closely at a person's reading, writing and counting abilities," Arina has heard.

The process is not publicly available but anecdotal accounts suggest it can include everything from being expected to dance or sing a song, or even know the price of a loaf of bread.

Arina says they won't apply for Nina to take this test until she is as prepared as she can be.

In the meantime, Arina is involved in all the important moments of Nina's life.

"Maybe I'm just the type of person that is not afraid of responsibility. It is an unexpected - but actually a good thing - that has happened to me.

"I love her. There's not much to it. I love her very much."

My Friend from a Care Home is available to watch now on YouTube.

6 notes · View notes

southeastasianists · 4 years

Link

The remaining families are holdouts who refused a November 2014 offer from the authorities whereby they could keep 10 percent of their landholdings if they let OCIC take 40 percent and let Phnom Penh City Hall take the other half.

Such an offer is unfair to families who settled on the once-undesirable land as far back as shortly after the Khmer Rouge’s 1979 fall, said 62-year-old Chea Sophat, a community representative who had 4,000-square-meters seized in 2010.

Approximately 1,300 families had lived on the 387 hectares of land granted to OCIC in a 99-year concession in 2011, with the majority settling on their land in the decade of resettlements following the Cambodian civil war’s end in 1991.

Sophat said the land from holdouts refusing to give up their prime real estate to OCIC, which notably also developed Phnom Penh’s Koh Pich island after forcing out its local residents, fell alongside the Tonle Sap River and National Road 6A.

“The villagers do not agree to receive back 10 percent of the land offered by City Hall. That is an injustice,” Sophat said. “My land was 4,000 square meters, so if I accept 10 percent, it means I’d receive 400 square meters, which is very small.”

“If the law stipulates something like this, I cannot accept it,” he added, noting the residents had multiple government-issued documents proving their ownership of the land since the 1980s, when private holding of land started to be recognized.

“I will still demand my land back,” he said.

Sophat said a reasonable offer — for example, the families keeping 50 percent — might be accepted. But he said City Hall and OCIC had refused to negotiate.

In fact, City Hall and OCIC have bothered little with the protests from holdouts.

On May 27, Chroy Changva district authorities carried out what they termed “administrative measures” and completely bulldozed the fencing and longtime home of husband-and-wife Bos Chamroeun and Hol Savoeun, whose property lies alongside National Road 6 in the district’s Prek Lieb commune.

Unfortunately for the couple, their property fell within the limits of OCIC’s satellite city development zone. They said they had not accepted the offer to vacate the land that had been earmarked by the developers as part of a road extension.

Savoeun said she and her husband steadfastly refused to give up 90 percent of their land, terming it clearly “unfair compensation.” She said they had first bought a small parcel of land with the appropriate ownership documents in 1994 and then bought neighboring land to expand their holding to 2,300 square meters.

However, knowing the political connections of OCIC and Pung Khieu Se — a Canadian-Cambodian who was one of the first overseas Cambodians to return to the country in the 1980s and legitimize Prime Minister Hun Sen’s post-communist normalization of Cambodia — Savoeun said they had tried to make a deal.

She said they had given up 1,500 square meters of their land — or about 65 percent of their property — to OCIC in hopes of keeping the rest. But OCIC and City Hall were not placated, and continued to insist they keep only 10 percent.

When the couple still did not accept, the Chroy Changva district officials arrived to enact their “administrative measures” to allow for OCIC’s development.

“So I had been left only 800 square meters of land — and now that has gone through the forced eviction on the 27th of May, 2020,” Savoeun said. “The authorities came and demolished it without providing any compensation.”

“I could not accept what they have offered us: 10 percent of the land — that is unfair,” Savoeun said, explaining the home had been a sanctuary for her adult daughters aged 32 and 30 as well as her son, 21, and young daughter, 12.

“I did not know what to do next,” she recalled of watching her home bulldozed. “My tears dropped as I looked upon my land being taken from us so violently.”

It is a familiar tale for Phnom Penh families over the past few decades, with longtime property owners finding that their legal documents hold little value when a wealthy and well-connected developer forms an interest in their homes.

More than a decade after the debacle of the Boeng Kak lake forced evictions started in Phnom Penh, and even with intense international attention, little has improved, said Soeung Sen Karuna, spokesman for rights group Adhoc.

“As in these cases, we have often seen the authorities taking measures to force the evictions of the families,” Sen Karuna said. “It’s a violation of their human rights, because we see no negotiation or attempts at a suitable resolution.”

“They just carry out the measures to forcibly evict people from their homes.”

Sen Karuna noted that many developers did not even put on a show of trying to be fair to property owners whose land they wanted, while local authorities such as those in Chroy Changva seemed to just follow what companies told them.

“The authorities should be protecting the people’s interests ahead of the private companies, as the authorities are meant to serve the people,” he said. “But we rarely see the villagers receive any justice when they have disputes with powerful men, especially with business tycoons who have both influence and wealth.”

“With cases like this [OCIC’s project], there is no prior social impact assessment or environmental assessment. They just go ahead with their development.”

In many ways, things were in fact getting worse, with developers learning from the mistakes from past forced evictions and adopting sinister new tactics.

Vann Sophath, coordinator of the business and human rights project at the Cambodian Center for Human Rights, said it appeared developers were keen to avoid the protests and community campaigns of decades past by picking off the land plot-by-plot now, thereby avoiding the spectacle of mass forced evictions.

“The authorities and OCIC have started using tactics to evict and grab these people’s land family-by-family, rather than evicting all the remaining families at one time, which causes strong, serious and aggressive protests,” Sophath said.

“So the remaining families [in Chroy Changva] are concerned the same approach from the authorities and OCIC would be taken against them in the near future.”

OCIC project manager Touch Samnang declined to comment on why the developer would not negotiate fairer settlements with the 65 families in Chroy Changva, and referred questions about the evictions to municipal authorities.

“We have a committee to resolve land disputes, for which Phnom Penh City Hall and the district-level [authorities] are in charge. Please ask them,” Samnang said.

Both Chroy Changvar district governor Klaing Huot and deputy district governor Huy Sarun declined to comment. Prek Leap commune chief Preap Mony said only: “I am busy, I have no time to talk,” and hung up his phone on a reporter.

However, City Hall spokesman Met Measpheakdey defended the evictions.

He said it was unreasonable for the 65 holdout families to ask for more than 10 percent of their land. He said that other families had accepted the compensation in the years since 2011 and that offering more land now would be unfair to them.

“What we offered was a policy decided by the government,” Measpheakdey said. “If we now offer them more than 10 percent, is that justice for the other families who previously accepted the 10-percent policy provided by the government?”

He said that officials would further attempt to convince the holdouts to accept the 10-percent figure and hoped that further forced evictions could be avoided.

“We do not want to use any of these measures because we understand they have occupied and lived on the land for a long time, so we try to resolve it,” he said. “We encourage people to join with the government to develop our city.”

For most of the holdouts, though, cooperation is predicated on compromise.

Sophat, the former landowner who lost a 4,000-square-meter plot to OCIC in Chroy Changva, vowed not to give up and to assert his rights to his land.

“Now the authorities even accuse me of being from the opposition,” Sophat said.

“But I would like to announce I have only one oppositional stance — and that it is for my sake alone, because you have violated me,” he said. “This is a violation of our rights, as we have legal documents that assert our status as land owners.”

#cambodia #land rights #land dispute

21 notes · View notes

animepopheart · 5 years

Text

The Adoption of Zenitsu Agatsuma

After months of trying, I recently convinced my wife to take up Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba. We made our way through the initial episodes, which she enjoyed, but I became more and more excited for her to meet one character in particular—Zenitsu. I was anticipating how she would react to seeing his extreme cowardice, and then the reveal both of his inner character and his capabilities. Hints of this are first shown as he battles a demon in the tsuzumi mansion, but it’s all fleshed out during the Natagumo Mountain arc. It’s because of his story there, as portrayed through a flashback showing his training, that Zenitsu became my favorite character.

Zenitsu’s battle against the spider demon on Natagumo Mountain is as unusual as one would expect, with the demon slayer running from his enemy as much as possible. But when he can no longer flee, and is on death’s doorstep, he remembers his training as given by “Gramps.” It’s as pathetic as one can imagine—his sensei must set traps that prevent Zenitsu from escaping the training, and literally drags him back to the dojo at which he practices. When first introduced in the series, Zenitsu appears to have become a coward after facing the reality of fighting demons; the flashback makes it clear that he was this way even prior.

At one point, Zenitsu is bullied by by Kuwajima’s other student, Kaigaku, who berates him for his cowardice and even physically assaults him. Kaigaku says that any time sensei spends on Zenitsu is wasted—he treats his comrade as worthless, as nothing—a feeling, I think, Zenitsu knows all too well.

Unlike Inosuke, Zenitsu is incredible self-aware—more so even than Tanjirou. At one point, he explains that he’s the one acting normal in all this craziness, which makes much sense—who would willingly fight these awful creatures and endure “hellish training”? He also plainly knows he is a coward. Zenitsu’s actions, his sleep-induced berserker quality aside, are done with foresight. He complains because he feels that the situation calls for it, but also understands that the way he acts is miserable. Nothing Kaigaku says is news to Zenitsu—they’re precisely how he feels about himself.

I’ve felt that way, too. I’ve been cowardly like Zenitsu, but my pain comes mostly from different places—my hypocrisy, my pride (Am I Inosuke?!), and most of all, the scheming and devious way I approach people and life, a quality that though tempered by my faith, still exists, still feels a part of my very being. When combined altogether, these vices and others make me feel guilty and sick, a man who is more expert at ruining others’ lives and taking them for granted than at living to love them, as I purport to do.

But there is hope for me. And there’s hope for Zenitsu, too—and that hope is connected not to our own abilities, which are lacking, nor even to who we are, as devious or cowardly as he and I might be.

As Zenitsu travels closer and closer to his foe, the memories of Gramps become even stronger. He recalls the training, and especially the pain. Funny enough, many of the “beatings” which he suffers don’t seem like beatings at all. They look more like love taps.

Gramps was once a hashira, a pillar among the corps. We’ve seen the power of the hashira already, and its frightening. And yet this powerful man has the patience to train Zenitsu day after day after day, from dusk until dawn, when someone as patient as Tanjiro loses his head after spending two minutes with him. How can Gramps possibly do that?

The answer is simple and clear: It’s love.

When I first watched this episode, I thought that “Gramps” was literally Zenitsu’s grandfather. Zenitsu had become orphaned and I thought that Gramps had taken him in. It made sense to me—why else would Kuwajima train Zenitsu and display such patience with him unless he was a blood relative? The feeling was confirmed to me when Kaigaku tells Zenitsu he shouldn’t refer to him as Gramps, that it was too intimate—it seemed to be a way of saying that you must see him as a sensei and not let him treat you with the familiarity of family.

But perhaps only to my surprise, Gramps—Jigoro Kuwajima—is not Zenitsu’s grandfather. He rescued Zenitsu after taking compassion on the boy, who was about to come under servitude due to debt. Kuwajima took him in, fed him, trained him, encouraged him, and helped him become far more than he was destined to be. In other words, Kuwajima took this boy, who was an orphan, and brought him into a household filled with his love. Kuwajima functionally became Zenitu’s adoptive father. In an arc about artificial family, one where Rui forcibly and fearsomely (the use of spiders and their webs is perfect imagery) establishes family bonds, Zenitsu and Kuwajima stand next to Tanjirou and Nezuko as examples of what family is meant to be.

Indeed, there is perhaps no greater demonstration of love than that of adoption, to take someone who is not your own and give him the love and blessings of your family. It’s an intimate connection, both the most intimate one of family and one of grace that can’t even be experienced by blood ties. As lovely and powerful as the bond between Tanjiro and Nezuko (also orphans, it should be noted) is, the decision to take someone and make him part of your family is to travel one step further.

Have you ever felt that kind of love from someone not bound to you in any way? I have, in bits and pieces—the young man who played basketball with me when I was a youth; the friend who chose me me first for his team rather than one of the athletic kids; the mentor who invested what little time he had in helping a young man who complained too much (maybe I’m Zenitsu after all!) grow into an adult. But I’ve also experienced this love in all its fullness, if not through lifelong friends of which I have few or none, through my faith, and it means everything to me, because like Zenitsu, I flounder each day. My problems remain and my character improvement is a slow process.

But when I become a son, I’m given that which I do not deserve. And like Zenitsu as well, in one moment all that love poured into me leads to transformation, and like a flash of lightning, I can change into all that which otherwise I never would have become.

#zenitsu #zenitsu agatsuma #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #blog

437 notes · View notes

mystic-kitten-writer · 5 years

Text

Limerence [M] ︳26

Pairing: Zuko x OC

AU: Adult-Verse

Genre: Romance, mainly fluff with smut, and if you squint hard enough - you’ll find some angst.

Rating: SFW

Words: 5900+

Notes: IMPORTANT NOTE: My writing schedule is being thrown into a loop. I’m still be posting once a week, but for the time being, instead of a set date of posting (Friday), I’m going to post as often as I can. That way I’m not stressing about posting at a specific date. You’re still getting a chapter! It just may take longer. I hope I don’t upset anyone with this change.

Besides that, I hope you enjoy the chapter and don’t be shy to leave a comment, like, or reblog! Thank you for your love and support, and take care~!

Masterlist ︳25 ︳ 27

❤ Buy me a coffee? ❤

Limerence: (English/n.) the state of being infatuated with another person. The moment their eyes locked they knew - the flames within him twisted while the water within her turned. It was a connection, a connection that would lead to love, adventure, and drama.

Nefarious

(Latin/adj.) Wicked, villainous, despicable.

~ Ying Yue Jiang ~

Zuko didn’t seem to clue in to the fact that I was watching him.

A frown painted that handsome face of his, dashing from corner to corner, overturning every single box, cream, and lotion that laid on our dresser and vanity. I could tell he was trying to remain calm, being as quiet as possible as he still thought I was asleep.

But despite his attempt to remain calm, I could see the flickers of fire wander around him, every deep huff of his just emphasizing that he was flustered. I looked at the window, rubbing my eyes tiredly and slightly annoyed. The sun was starting to rise, the air crisp and dewy.

Zuko said I was crazy for saying that he didn’t know how to relax, but this was just another example to prove my point. Who in the world wakes up early to go for a morning jog during a vacation? I huffed, sitting upright and pushing the warm blankets off my body.

So entranced with finding whatever he sought after, Zuko didn’t even hear my huff or the way I slipped out of bed and put on my robe. He wore casual clothing this morning, and I found myself smiling. How I wish he dressed as relaxed as he did now more often.

It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate his royal attire, trust me – he was a snack when he was dressed to the spirits. But it was also lovely seeing him comfy. Not with a tight bun, body-hugging clothing. He was always on his toes – but seeing him like this made me smile.

The way his long locks fell along his shoulders, loose T-shirt and baggy pants…

Without warning, I wrapped my arms around Zuko - humming softly and feeling his warmth along my skin. As much as I enjoyed the heat of Ember Island – I wouldn’t trade it for Zuko’s natural warmness.

Zuko’s breath hitched, hugging my arms and looking over his shoulder with a frown, “I’m sorry, did I wake you, love?”

“Mhmm.” I giggled, stuffing my face into his back, feeling the way his muscles shifted as he chuckled. “Sorry, uh, now that you’re awake though…have you seen some creams?”

I pulled away, looking at Zuko with confusion. My head tilted, pondering to myself as to what creams Zuko could want. I waltzed over to my vanity - gazing, “What type of creams?”

“Uh…just plain white bottles.”

I turned around, noticing how hesitant Zuko was to speak, his voice wary. A small pout formed on my lips, crossing my arms as I looked at him, “Spill Zuko.”

“It’s nothing, forget it.” He grumbled, ready to walk away, but before he could, I grabbed his arm, pulling him close. And it was then I realized – his scar.

It was dry, ashy; the skin pulled tight around his face. There was no way in the world that it wasn’t irritating him. His eye was slightly veiny, red. Probably from him rubbing the skin during his sleep without realizing and I frowned, “Zuko-”

“Don’t worry, I probably forgot it at home-”

“Zuko stop!” I hissed, grabbing his arm more forcibly and making him stay put. Gosh, the skin was so irritated. I need to do something.

But Zuko scowled, “It’s fine, don’t worry-”

“Stop acting so damn tough! I care, I worry. So sit down on the bed while I figure something out.” I shouted, and for the very first time in our relationship, I snapped at him.

The way Zuko’s eyes widen in shock, never hearing my voice raised, especially towards him. But what could I say, I was annoyed. Not only did he wake me up early, now he has to act all ‘manly,’ unable to admit that he was in pain - and that drove me nuts.

I shoved him towards the bed, huffing under my breath as I dashed towards the washroom, not giving him the time of day to argue with me. He’s lucky I didn’t freeze his damn ass to the ground and leave him for days.

My eyes scanned about, searching for what I needed…a towel…a cup…

I dashed towards the sink, filling the glass with some cold water before walking out of the bathroom. I swear if he’s not there sitting on the bed-

A small smirk flickered on my lips.

Zuko sat on the bed, pouting like a child with his arms crossed, evidently ticked off at how I yelled at him. I pushed back the giggle that wanted to erupt because I still had to play the part of being angry – or else this man will never listen to me. Although I had to say – he looked adorable sulking like that.

My feet obnoxiously stomped on the ground, trying to play the part that I was still upset, but the moment my eyes lined up with his face I softened.

His scar was a blistering red. Usually, the skin was muted, although red – and it wasn’t as rash or vibrant. But today, it was different. A shade of red I’ve never seen before.

I sulked, stepping forward and outstretching the cup towards him, “Hold it for me please…” Zuko gazed at me wearily, hesitance written all over his face, “What are you going to do?” He huffed - a bit more bite in his voice than usual. But I ignored it, Zuko may look like a lion, but he was just an adorable cat.

“Trust me,” I said softly, letting my hands cup his face as he held the cup of water. His eye twitched, struggling to see, and I pouted.

Zuko was in pain, I could tell.

The way his jaw clenched, forehead pinched together, a hand of his digging into his leg. And in a bold move, I let my hand gently caress the wound. The hiss he released, but he didn’t make a move to pull away.

I could feel it.

The way the blood fought to pump around the skin, struggling to carry the necessary water to keep the skin hydrated. He needed moisture, water.

With a flick of my fingers, I could feel the water rise from the cup, Zuko twitching from the cold liquid sliding across his skin, “Shut your eyes…” I muttered softly, letting my hand brush over his eyes, his lids fluttering close.

My eyes shut, trying to figure out the sore spot.

‘Focus on the way the blood pumped,’ my mom always said when healing. It was a trick she adopted, instead of conducting the regular check up on patients, she used to feel the way the blood flowed in one’s body – and from that, she could tell what was wrong with patients. Discovering health concerns that no doctor had figured out until she mentioned it.

My brows pinched together, letting my water freeze slightly over his scar while allowing the water that directly touched his skin penetrate. Zuko gasped from underneath me, wincing slightly and my eyes opened, “Am I hurting you? Let me stop-”

“No-” Zuko huffed, a hand tightly gripping my wrist, “It feels…good. Relief.” He shyly murmured under his breath. I couldn’t help but smile, noticing that the skin was muting in colour, no longer throbbing angrily.

I let my fingers dance along the skin around his eyes, feeling the majority of the damage there. A sad smile painted my face; I could only image how much it hurt. What person would do this to a child? To Zuko? No wonder Zuko always feared the thought of having a family, being a father – he didn’t exactly have the best experience besides Iroh. And it was then I decided to make a mental note to thank Iroh – for being the rock Zuko needed all his life.

The water was almost completely absorbed, and I began letting whatever ice I formed to start melting away and hydrating the skin as well. “You can open your eyes now…” I muttered softly, and when Zuko did open his eyes, my heart fluttered.

His eye was no longer red, strained or dry, but the usual vibrant gold I admired, “Better?” I hummed, grabbing the towel I let lay over my shoulder to tap whatever water remained.

I could see it, Zuko’s lip slightly curved upwards, cheeks crimsoned as he nodded, “Thank you…” He whispered, voice lacking his usual spunk. I pouted, realizing that my sudden outburst must have affected him.

He seemed torn - between wanting to argue and thanking me, “Sorry for getting upset with you.” I blurted, cheeks flushed as I pulled the towel away and grabbed the cup from his hand.

“No, don’t be. I shouldn’t have pushed you away like that.” Zuko spoke, shaking his head as he stood from the bed. His hand gently rose to touch his cheek, amazement in his eyes, “I thought you weren’t a good healer?” He mused, giving me a look of disbelief.

My cheeks coloured, shaking my head bashfully as I walked over to the vanity to set the materials down, “I’m not, my mother was though. I can only try…” I muttered. But a pair of arms wrapped around my waist, feeling Zuko’s chin resting on my shoulder. The sudden warmth, feeling him so close made my shoulders relax, “I didn’t mean to upset you, Yue.”

I smiled, shaking my head, “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have forced you to tell me; I was just worried-”

“You have every right to worry and know what’s going on, and I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you?”

With that statement, I turned around. Letting my arms wrap around Zuko’s waist as he grinned, “You like being spoiled, huh?” Zuko chuckled, watching the way my eyes lit up at the mere thought of getting something. I giggled, shrugging my shoulders as I fell into his embrace, “It’s your fault; you spoil me too much.”

“Pinning it back on me – I see what you’re doing.”

“Oh, you love me.”

“I do. So how about…I make you tea?”

I jumped, looking at Zuko with a big smile, “Tea?”

Zuko worked at a tea shop, and he told me that he learned a few tips and tricks about tea making back at the Southern Water tribe – boy does time fly by. And given that Iroh is an avid tea-drinker, I had high hopes. It was small things like this, him making me tea, waking up in the morning to his sleepy face that made me so happy.

I skipped away, opening the door and tightening the stash on my robe, “Let’s go!” I chirped, only to earn a laugh from Zuko.

Elbows on the counter, chin on my palms, I sat with full attention to Zuko.

I knew that the man was just making tea, but in my eyes – it was the most magical thing in the world. I watched keenly, studying his every move. Zuko finally poured the hot liquid into two cups and slid it towards me, chuckling, “You’re watching me as if I’m going to quiz you after.”

“Well I gotta say, I got a cute teacher.” I teased, only to earn a flick on my forehead. A small pout formed on my lips as Zuko rolled his eyes at my words, but he couldn’t hide the smile on his face.

With a tiny spoon, I stirred the milk and honey, watching the hot liquid stir around in the cup. And once satisfied, I lifted the cup to my lips, sipping - thistle. The floral tones, with a pinch of sweetness from the honey and creaminess from the milk - I smiled.

“You like thistle?” I hummed, taking a sip of the tea as Zuko drank, staring through the window and watching the sun rise over the crystal waters of the beach. “Never really drank it till today,” Zuko said, scratching his neck sheepishly. I giggled, shaking my head at his response before stealing another sip, “For some odd reason, Kima and Lia packed a bunch of it. Same with ginger root and stone seed root.” Zuko spoke, opening a cabinet and proving his point.

I brought the cup down from my lips, pouting as I studied the teas. Thistle…ginger root…stone seed root…

“They have some sort of herbal properties – I remember my mom telling a few locals to drink those teas,” I answered, tilting my head to the side. “And now that you mentioned it, ever since I came to the kingdom, Lia always gave me a tea in the morning, and it was always between those three.”

“Maybe high in some sort of vitamins? Now I’m slightly jealous. It’s like she takes better care of you than me.”

“Well, she’s my maid after all.”

“And I’m the Fire Lord.”

I rolled my eyes, stealing another sip, “I’ll ask the maids when they come, maybe they know. Are you going for your jog now?”

Zuko nodded, placing the dirty cup in the sink before leaning over the counter, “And don’t you dare think for a second that I forgot.”

“Forgot what?” I asked, confused by the glare he gave me, “That you still need to train. So get changed so we can go for a jog.”

“Oh, come on!” I whined, letting my body fall against the marble, huffing like a child. There was no way in the spirit world; I would be training during my vacation. But Zuko’s hands ruffled my hair, pulling on my robe and making me look upwards, “Come on babe, either we run or we train tonight with your bending.”

“A run it is!” I sheepishly grinned, pushing the empty teacup to him. Zuko chuckled, shaking his head before a knock on the door caught my attention. I hopped off the stool, “Probably the workers and maids, let them in, love.” I nodded my head, opening the door with a bright smile, “Good morning!”

The workers and maids smiled, watching how cheery I was, bowing as I moved to the side.

“Good morning Imperial Consort, Fire Lord Zuko.” They all muttered, bowing before walking off to their work. Zuko let out a soft smile, nodding his head as he began washing the cups. “Oh, Fire Lord Zuko let me-”

“It’s fine; I got it,” Zuko spoke, letting the water splash over the dishware. The maids anxiously gazed at each other, and I let my hand fall over their shoulder, “It’s fine. It’s nice being…normal.” I whispered, watching Zuko wash the dishes.

The tiny things in life…

“I have a question!” I jumped, tugging the maids towards the kitchen, and pointing at the teas, “What are these teas for, do they do something?”

The way their cheeks flushed, looking at themselves with stifled giggles, “A-are you really asking us?” A maid cheekily blurted, giving me wide eyes. I looked back at Zuko, who was still seemingly oblivious to the conversation, “I have no clue…”

“I-it’s to prevent, uh…how do I say this…a natural form of birth control.”

My cheeks flushed, utterly rosy as I quickly shut the cabinet and timidly smiled at them. My mouth formed into a giant ‘O,’ tugging any loose hairs behind my ear, “T-thanks for the clarification.”

“So, what is it? Vitamins?” Zuko asked from behind me, his hands gripping my hips. I tensed, looking up at his face, a face filled with curiosity. “You know, it’s nothing. Just forget about it.”

“But I want to know.”

“Let it go Zuko!” I grumbled, walking away with rosy cheeks, and that just seemed to fuel him more. The maids giggled behind us, watching the way I actively avoided his pestering. So when the older man from yesterday walked in front of me, bowing and started talking, I gave him a massive mental thanks.

“Did you go through the box I gave you yesterday? There were a few photos; I figured you might want to hang some throughout the home.” He smiled. My eyes widen, shaking my head, “I forgot! How about you go for the run Zuko while I organize what’s inside the box.” I said with a grin.

The look Zuko gave me, a frown as he huffed, “You just don’t want to go on the run.”

“I really don’t…”

Zuko’s hands wrapped about my waist, grumbling into my messy bedhead, “Fine. Put the things into piles while I go for a run. When I come back, we can pick and choose, okay?”

I skipped, hugging Zuko happily before pecking his lips, “You’re the best.”

Zuko laughed, pulling away before walking towards the entrance, “See you la-”

“Fire Lord Zuko!”

The front door swung open, a flustered worker panting heavily. They gazed over me briefly before their eyes fell upon Zuko with urgency, “Mihir, he requests your audience.”

And just like yesterday, Zuko tensed.

The way he walked towards the door, a grimace on his face as he hesitantly looked over his shoulder to me, “I-I’ll be back. I should be quick.”

I pouted, wanting to ask what this Mihir person could possibly want two days in a row, but Zuko left in a flash. The door shut behind him, disappearing as quickly as Aang does, like a breeze itself. What in the world is going on with Zuko?

“Imperial Consort Ying Yue…?”

I turned around, gazing at the construction manager with a sad smile, “It must be tough…” He spoke softly, scared to over-step but wanting to comfort me. My hands pulled on my robe, bringing it tighter to my body as I nodded, “Fire Lord first, Zuko second.” I hummed, the saying I’ve repeated to myself the moment I accepted that seal back at the Southern Water Tribe.

“As a husband, a father, I can tell he loves you.”

“I know…good thing I’ve learned a thing or two about patience.” The man chuckled, nodding his head, “You’ll make a brilliant Fire Queen.”

Fire Queen.

I shyly smiled, blushing at the comment, “Thank you. I should get sorting.”

“If you need help, let me know, I could get some of the workers to help out.”

“Thank you! I will.” I sang before dashing into the bedroom. I slid the door behind me, enjoying the fresh breeze, the sunlight lighting up the bedroom. And it was then I spotted it, the box at the end of the bed.

Not bothering to change out of my pyjamas, I sat down on the floor, scrunching my nose as a bit of dust danced in the air as I pulled the box closer. It wasn’t a big box, or heavy, mostly filled with old stuffed animals, and photos. I wonder if they’re any embarrassing baby photos of Zuko…oh my gosh - imagine a naked baby photo of him?

I couldn’t help but giggle at the thought, Ursa seems like the type of mom that would do that, and I grinned.

The first goal; organize the box.

The second goal; look for any embarrassing photos of Zuko to use as blackmail.

I pulled out the first photo and already started giggling – Zuko in an adorable sailor suit. This is going to be a great day.

~ Fire Lord Zuko ~

The sound of the door slamming shut echoed in the theatre, bouncing off the walls, and projecting piercingly down the empty halls. It was the only place where I knew I could get privacy, able to speak about guarded matters without eavesdropping. And although the local theatre was small, it would suffice.

I stepped forward, and I could see him - Mihir.

Like usual, he wore black clothing, not leaving an inch of skin exposed, including his fingers. He tug his red scarf closer to his face, the only skin visible in his entire attire. Just seeing him wearing such dark colours and tight fitting clothing made me sweat, the man must be boiling alive. But I pushed the thought away, because even if he were sweltering – Mihir would never say a word.

His dark eyes aligned with mine, wrinkles peeking through and showing his age. I finally spoke, “What are you doing here? I thought you were going to come back in two we-”

“I think he’s alive.”

“What?”

My breath hitched, stepping forward with a look of disbelief, searching for any sign that Mihir was bluffing. But his stern eyes never wavered, and if there was one thing I knew, it was that Mihir never lied.

He was an informant, always searching and retrieving information regarding every single thing and being in the Fire Nation. If he said something – it was never less of the truth. With outstretched hands, he held out the papers, and I grabbed them.

My eyes scanned the documents, General Axe.

A giant x and skull decorated the name, and in an instance I flipped open the papers, looking for any new information. But a frown soon appeared on my face, looking up at Mihir with confusion, “Why are you giving me this? I gave this to you; I already know what’s inside.”

“Look again; we missed something.”

I frowned, walking to a free desk and letting the papers rest. Eyes frantically searching for that piece of information Mihir wanted me to see. General Axe was a traitor, due to leaking information. I already knew this; fuck even Yue told me that. So what is it?

“Her mother’s body - they found it, burned it, and destroyed all evidence that she even existed. But they never found his.”

“What are you trying to hint at?”

“What if General Axe never died? What if he managed to escape?” Mihir said, flipping the papers back, pointing at the red skull that loomed over his name, “What if this mark, shouldn’t be here. Because the job was never completed.”

I pulled away, looking at him in disbelief, “Are you saying they failed the assassination? We are talking about skilled warriors-”

“Ying Yue got away, a child. Why couldn’t he, a trained warrior?”

My mouth shut, lips pressed tight as I ran my hands through my hair. I should be happy, happy that I found something. All I wanted was to find some long-lost family of Yue’s.

Aang, Sokka, even Toph, told me how much Yue longed to reconnect with family. Regardless if they’re distant members, but this was more than I bargained. I wouldn’t be introducing her to some distant uncles or cousins; I would be bringing her dad back from the fucking grave.

“It would explain…a lot.” Mihir spoke, watching the way I fought with myself. “We know for a fact that General Axe had no siblings and his parents died years ago. But whenever I asked colleagues or friends about him, they all seemed hesitant. As if they were hiding something.”

I groaned, slapping my hands on my face.

Why. Is. Life. So. Difficult.

“But why? Why hide? Why not find Ying Yue? He left her alone all those damn years; it broke her.”

“Because while you and I know that what he did was for the greater good – he’s still a traitor to the Fire Nation.”

“He’s scared that he’ll endanger her...”

“Fire Lord Zuko, this is bigger than the both of us. All of his colleagues and friends who supported him have either retired early or weren’t aware of his secret love affair. But some of them do know about Ying Yue. And they know that your consort is his child.”

“You’re saying that like it’s a bad thing.” I hissed, and Mihir nodded, “It can be. Because someone years ago leaked that information to your father, someone who was pro-war. And if word goes out, that you’re dating the daughter of a traitor, they could use that against you – get your father back to the throne.”

Fuck.

I huffed despairingly, leaning against the desk with a range of emotions. This was supposed to be a cute fucking surprise. Hopefully, introduce Yue to some extended family, have a lovely bloody dinner – the regular stuff. But instead, I dug myself into another scandal as if the council wasn’t already struggling to wrap their heads around the fact that Yue was a damn Waterbender.

“We can fix this, before news of this breaks. If we find General Axe, lift his ‘traitor status,’ scandal goes poof.”

“How? If Yue’s father is alive, and that’s a huge fucking IF - he’s hiding. And if he’s been able to go under the radar for this long, there’s no way we can find him.”

“Don’t underestimate my skills,” Mihir smirked, and for a split moment, I relaxed. Mihir crossed his arms smugly, “I’ve been doing this for thirty years, I worked for your Uncle, and now I work for you. And I didn’t pledge myself to you to fail.”

“Mihir, if you’re right, we need to be smart.” He nodded, grabbing the scattered papers on the desk and putting them away neatly. But as his hands brushed along the documents, he paused, “You never told her yet, have you?”

Silence.

I looked away, gazing through the windows and watching the motion of the distant water. The way sun reflected off the waves, birds flying high into the sky, “No…I can’t do that to Ying Yue. Give her false hope. It’ll hurt her if we find nothing, and I can’t do that.”

“And what if her father is alive? Then what?”

"I guess I can finally ask General Axe.”

“Ask what?”

“His blessing in marriage.”

Mihir smiled, tugging the folder into his shirt before walking towards the door, “I’ll do my best; I haven’t been to a wedding in a while. See you soon.” I nodded, the sound of the door opening and closing, and my soft breathing echoing.

My head spun, sighing as I rubbed my face in defeat. This was supposed to be a nice vacation, some time off for just me and Yue. But more importantly, a chance to get her to safety, away from whoever the snitch at the kingdom was, and just thinking about it made me groan in annoyance.

I was tired, so damn tired. And as much as I didn’t want to admit it, I needed a damn hug – her hug. Her hair in my face, her soft giggles, just her.

I straighten, rolling my shoulders back as I cracked my fingers, “Maybe I could pick up some biscuits-”

“I haven’t had cookies from the town in such a long time Zuzu, thanks for offering.”

My blood ran cold, turning on my heel at the sound of that voice. It was a voice I’ve long forgotten, put away and left for dead. My fists rose, feet planting on the ground as I twisted. But my mouth dropped as I saw a slender body easing its way out of the shadows, a wicked smirk playing on her face, “Long time no see Zuzu.”

“Azula.”

She didn’t change a damn bit.

Her black hair still up in a ponytail, bangs framing her face as she waltzed around the room. I let the flames in my fists build, watching her every move, but her eyes flickered over to me once again, fingers dragging along the old theatre props with a gaze of boredom, “Relax, I didn’t come to fight.”

“And we both know you didn’t come to make friends.” I hissed. Azula grinned, tapping her cheek in amusement, “I wouldn’t worry too much about her father. That’s not where the secrets lie.”

My eyes narrowed, matching her footsteps, keeping myself at a fair distance; trying to keep cool all the while staying alert. How many years has it been since I’ve last seen her? Two, three? More.

And no matter how many years have passed, nothing but dread filled my heart. Because the truth was, I would’ve rested better knowing she was just dead.

�� “What do you want Azula?”

“I’m going to say this once Zuzu, so listen carefully.” She hissed, and I cringed at hearing her stupid nickname for me, a nickname I’ve only heard come from Kiyi’s lips. The closest thing I ever had to a little sister, and she wasn’t even entirely related to me.

Azula’s lips twisted to that of a smirk, “Your girlfriend isn’t what she seems. She’s hiding a secret. Forget about the father – research the mother. We both know the mother’s side is far more interesting.”

“And makes you think that I’ll trust you – of all fucking people,” I growled. She’s still insane – that’s for sure. But Azula rolled her eyes, flicking her wrist as if to dismiss my words. “Fine, don’t listen. But if she starts to control you from the inside out, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“What?” I gasped, trying to decipher her words. But Azula leaned against an old prop, crossing her arms, “She’s a Bloodbender, you idiot.”

“You’re fucking insane Azula. There’s were two Bloodbenders in this whole world; Katara and Yakone.”

But the way her grin lit up hearing Yakone’s name, “Make it three now. And ask her about Yakone; I bet the name will ring a bell in that girl's head.” I frowned, because memories of that night, the dinner party with the Earth King flooded my mind. The way Yue flinched at the mention of Bloodbending, the name Yakone…Could Azula-

“These accusations – it’s insulting, we both know that.”

“What’s more insulting is that you plan on getting married and I haven’t gotten a wedding invitation. Although I understand why - it’s not like you’ll go through with it. A Waterbender, a Bloodbender, plus the daughter of a traitor. You really know how to pick them Zuzu.”

“Insult her one more time-”

Azula smiled, licking her lips as she leaned forward, “Bloodbender.”

~ Ying Yue Jiang ~

A soft smile flickered upon my lips as my fingers trailed along the photos. They were beautiful, and it was a shame that most of them were wrinkled or burnt. Whatever photos were at the top were of Zuko and Ursa. And Ursa looked gorgeous, so proud of her son, bearing the sweetest smile, the smile of a mother. Gosh, I hope I can age like her – gracefully.

And the more I studied her soft features, her stunning smile; it made more sense where Zuko got his looks. They were so much alike, and as I flipped through the pictures, I saw more.

Zuko getting older - crawling, standing, walking, going up the porch stairs. And despite his physical changes, hair getting longer, more sturdy, there was one thing that remained the same - that captivating twinkle in his eyes. He was adorable, and the smile on me grew more. I was a sucker for Zuko, but more so for a baby Zuko.

But as the pictures got older, I noticed something change with Ursa. Her belly was getting bigger…face a bit puffy. She’s pregnant in these! Zuko’s sister.

I knew that Zuko had a sister, a sister other than Kiyi - Azula. The infamous Fire Nation Princess, the prodigy. But that was all she was to me, rumours. Katara told me how strong she was, what a skilled fighter she was, and her blue flames – a rarity in itself. But not once had Zuko mention her to me. And for the first time in my life, it was something I wasn’t all too curious about asking.

My brows pinched together, seeing a few baby photos, evidently her. Ursa was smiling, Zuko looking over Azula with curiosity. Should I hide these from Zuko? Would he even want to see them? I frowned and found myself putting down the images; I shouldn’t

I felt like I was overstepping suddenly.

It felt dirty looking at these pictures. I have to put them away; I can look at these when Zuko comes back, I can’t-

And as I leaned forward to make a separate pile for the private photos, the film shifted, spilling over and scattering across the ground. I hissed loudly, scrambling to put them away. Why must I be such a bloody clutz? And as my hands frantically grabbed the photos, I stopped.

Because I was met with a pair of eyes that pierced through my heart.

The same eyes that haunted me from the moment I got to the Fire Nation, and last night. I reached forward, grabbing the photo. Her black hair, narrowed eyes, that smirk – it was the maid from last night but-

She was young in this photo, a child, and is that...Mai?

I sat back, studying the picture. It had to be Mai. But…why would a maid be playing with royalty? The clothing she wore was not of a maid, but of royalty – no. Even more magnificent, outshining Mai. Wait a minute…is that Ty Lee in the background too?

My head shot upwards, looking at the rest of the scattered photos that lay on the floor, my heart beating. Because realization hit, a dirty reality snuck under me with such force I stopped breathing altogether. It can’t be- gosh no.

Another picture – she was sitting with Ursa and Zuko.

Another one – they were at the beach, Mai blushing beside Zuko.

Her Zuko and Mai. Her Zuko and Mai. Her, Zuko and Mai-

No, no, no-

“A royal bed warmer.”

I stood up, my stomach in my throat, running to the door. “Imperial Consort Ying Yue?” A maid gasped, looking at me with fear. But I didn’t care.

I didn’t care that my hair wasn’t done, that I was still wearing my damn pyjamas because my worst fears were coming true, “Where’s Zuko?” I gasped, tears threatening to spill over.

The maids frowned, looking at one another, a few construction workers stopped and seeing my fear, “W-we don’t know, are you alright, sit down-”

“No, I need him now.” I cried, and right away, their eyes widen. My head spun, blood cold and palms sweaty, I feel like I’m going to be sick. “Ying Yue, you’re as white as a ghost, what’s wrong?” They begged, grasping my hands as I shook like a leaf, “I just need Zu-”

“Yue.” My head shot upwards; front door flung open.

“Zuko.” I gasped, running forward. His brows pinched together, seeing me all frazzled, but I also noticed he looked disorganized.

“My sister – you’re in danger.”

“I know the snitch – it’s Mai.”

Both of your eyes widen.

Welp…this vacation went to shits.

Disclaimer: I do not own any Avatar characters portrayed in this story besides Ying Yue Jiang, Lia, Kima, and any future creations.

❤ Buy me a coffee? ❤

282 notes · View notes

guardiankarenterrier · 5 years

Note

Sabine: "If we legally adopt you both, son, that might make planning the wedding a bit tricky." Ladybug: "Ma--Madame Cheng!"

(Send me 2 sentences and I’ll continue them like they’re lines from a fanfic.)

look this was supposed to be a short drabble and nOPE WHOOPS IM BAD AT SHORT I GUESS

uh, desperada spoilers in this

ps i BARELY edited this sorry for any mistakes

EDIT: now with an AO3 link! because i know my track record with losing my own fics on tumblr

“Well,” Sabine says, much more thoughtfully than Ladybug had expected or been prepared for. “If we legally adopt you both, son, that might make the wedding a bit tricky.“

“Ma-Madame Cheng!” Ladybug exclaims, feeling herself flush brightly. “I’m- I’m flattered, really, thank you, but this- this should only be temporary, we don’t really need-” Marinette swallows, trying not to look at Chat Noir. “Um, adoption.“

She shoots a quick glance over at her partner after all, but his sudden starstruck look is both the opposite of reassuring and sends some unidentifiable emotion shooting through her. She knows he’s been enjoying this particular akuma fight more than she has- she has the really, deeply unsettling sense that Chat Noir didn’t have this kind of fun as a child before and he seems to be trying to make up for as much lost time as possible as fast as possible.

When she’s honest with herself about it, Marinette’s pretty sure that they both enjoy fighting villains more than they should. They still aren’t usually having this much fun unless it’s Max that’s been akumatised. (They’re never thrilled to see anyone akumatised, but Max has given them opportunities to pilot a giant robot and leap into a video game- to say that fighting him hasn’t been fun would be such an obvious lie).

This time Marinette had missed both the akuma’s actual monologue and explanation, because even though Chat Noir had been as quick as ever to tackle her out of the way the akuma has such a ludicrously fast recharge time that she’d had no trouble firing again.

Chat Noir had still tried to throw himself over her again. Marinette is relieved he wasn’t successful, because he already looks about five years old, and she doesn’t want to test whether the effect is cumulative- but that means that she’s currently in the body of a five year old, too.

She hadn’t noticed when it was just Chat who’d been hit, but the akuma’s youth ray seems to change more than just their bodies. Her Lucky Charm had been her own cat pillow in red-spotted glory and Marinette had spent too long staring at and fretting over it, to the point where they’d both had to hide to retransform.

And the bakery had been close by.

And the Lucky Charm had seemed to indicate that was where they should go.

And there’s a tiny, terrified part of her that’s cropped up since first being hit that had been crying out for her mother.

They’d both retransformed crouched on either side of a bakery counter, barely out of each other’s sight, and then before Marinette could get past her disappointment that they were both still children Maman had appeared only to exclaim over them both.

Maman laughs now, which is also not terribly reassuring. "Oh, sweethearts, I’m mostly kidding. I know you’ll be back to your normal selves as soon as you defeat the akuma." She eyes Chat Noir knowingly, though, and adds, "Although, I might remind you that it isn’t only young children who can be adopted. There are teenage adoptions, you know. It might raise some difficulties to adopt you both but I can’t see that anyone would want to separate you, any more than I would keep my own daughter from her best friend.”

Marinette viciously strangles any and all noise that tries to escape her throat at that.

Chat Noir does no such thing, letting out a sound that’s more cat than human in his delight, and this time Marinette turns to face him entirely.

He looks as happy as she’s ever seen him. His ears and tail are both giving happy constant twitches, and his purring isn’t the loudest she’s heard it but it’s getting close, and his eyes have dilated wider than she’s seen them since the time Venom Rose had conjured catnip all around them.

The longer Marinette looks at her partner, the more the sudden crack in her heart widens. He looks- he looks so happy about the prospect of adoption. He looks way too happy about it.

Marinette’s not even going to think about her mother’s offer to adopt her. Ladybug is used to a certain level of identity shenanigans, because it’s already a struggle juggling Alya and Nino knowing about each other and everyone knowing about Chloe and Adrien knowing about Viperion while Chat Noir knows about Aspik, which she still hasn’t found a good way or time to explain to her partner-

“Kids,” Maman says gently, breaking through Marinette’s racing thoughts. “Can you fight like this? Do you need help?” She reaches behind her without looking and seems to let a broom handle hop into her hand. “I may not be a superhero, but I do know how to fight.”

“You do?” Chat Noir breathes, finally breaking his silence. He’s bouncing on the balls of his feet now, tail tip twitching rapidly.

Maman laughs. “Dear, I’m a mother. Of course I do. How else would I make sure my daughter knows how to fight, too? Although I admit she has a much better handle on strategy than I do, even at her age!”

Ladybug finally, finally breaks herself out of her deepening worry over her partner’s enthusiasm to wrap an arm around his elbow and tug before her mother can say anything else embarrassing or potentially dangerous. She does not need Chat Noir to think of Marinette as being a strategist. “I’m really grateful, Ma- Madame Cheng, but it isn’t safe without our powers. We’ll be alright if we stay together, but thank you so much for your generosity!”

“If you’re sure,” Maman says, looking honestly disappointed. “But I want you both to know you can come back here anytime, okay? Any time at all , and if you need anything at all.”

Marinette thinks that’s the end of it, and she finally gets her partner to move in the direction of the door, only to stop when she hears her mother speak up one last time.

“I meant it about the adoption,” Maman says gently. “For both of you. I don’t know your home lives, but you spend a lot more time fighting for all of us than you do at home- especially you, Chat Noir, we have all seen how you protect your partner. And no matter your decision- really, you are welcome any time. There is always space for one or two more at dinner.”

“T-thank you, Madame Cheng,” Marinette manages, desperately looking away from her partner because the hope and happiness suffusing his face at her mother’s offer is too much. It’s way too much.

It makes her already-cracking heart sink down to the soles of her feet, because she knew already that Chat Noir doesn’t have the happiest home life, but she didn’t think it was so bad that he would be this over the moon about being invited to share her home life.

It would be so dangerous to start having him over for dinner regularly.

But he looks so happy, the expression transforming his child’s face in a much more open way than she’s used to seeing on him at their real ages. The mask does nothing to hide his delight.

She’s going to have to invite him.

She doesn’t know how she’s going to handle Ladybug not making it to family dinners they’ve both been invited to, not without either hurting his feelings (because her goofy partner is far more sensitive than almost anyone has realised) or risking too many dropped hints. But she’s going to have to figure out some way around that.

“You’re sure you don’t need help, you two?” Maman asks worriedly as she opens the door for them. “You should gather some of your allies, at least.”

Marinette immediately pictures a five year old Chloe and winces. Five year old Alya, while an intriguing thought, also doesn’t strike her as a good idea.

But she’s known Nino forever and she’s confident he can keep his head in battle even if he suffers the same age reversion as they both have, and she thinks Luka would have no trouble remaining calm and focused as well. Plus, Second Chance means that Luka can stay an adult even when the rest of them are struggling.

“We’ll get our allies,” she assures her mother, even though she feels a little odd about it. “We’ll all be okay.”

“-just come back here if you still need help,” Maman says firmly. “Both of you! Partners should stick together.”

Chat Noir is practically vibrating with happiness as he exclaims, “We will!”

Maman smiles. “Good luck then, Chat Noir, little bug.”

For the very first time Marinette takes Chat Noir with her to Master Fu’s. Master Fu had given her a go-ahead on it after Desperada, after Marinette had spilled the day’s events to him out of a desperate need for reassurance only for her Master to gently point out that she knows very well who the most reassuring presence in her life is and it certainly isn’t him.

And for the first time he’d said it was time to be more honest with her partner, time to begin to let Chat Noir in on more secrets.

As paranoid as it makes her, Marinette wants to involve him more. She knows it hurts him not to know, that he feels like she doesn’t trust him when that couldn’t be further from the truth.

Master Fu doesn’t seem terribly surprised to see their child forms or that they’ve shown up together. He slides the Turtle Miraculous off without being asked and hands it to Marinette, then raises a questioning eyebrow when she hesitates over the Snake Miraculous and looks at Chat Noir.

She looks between him and Master Fu, distraught and unsure how much of her upset is due to their forcibly changed ages.

“You know the wisdom of your choices better than I ever can, Ladybug,” Master Fu says gently. “If you think it is wise, then let it be so.”

Marinette takes a deep breath, then turns to Chat Noir and says, “I can go and get Carapace. Can you bring this to Luka Couffaine? He lives on the Seine, on a boat called the Liberty. He shouldn’t be too hard to find.”

Chat Noir’s pupils dilate again, with happiness or shock or both, she isn’t sure. “I-I’ll go straight there. Thank you for trusting me with this, my Lady!”

Marinette stares after him, her heart pounding in a way it does not have her permission to do, and realises that if he’s this happy and Maman is that determined then there is no way her parents aren’t about to adopt a stray Chat as thoroughly as they possibly can.

It’s not necessarily a displeased realisation.

He looked so happy. She’s used to his light-hearted humour, but she’s never seen his whole being light up when it had when Maman had started teasing about adopting them both.

The more Marinette thinks about it the more she starts to like the idea. Chat Noir seems to waver between just fit enough and skinny enough to worry her, and knowing that he’s eating dinner with her would be a relief. Knowing that he’s getting a little more of the affection he seems to crave so badly will be a relief.

Letting go of her worries and accepting that her family has maybe (definitely) gained a Chat by now, Marinette takes off herself to find Nino. Navigating at this age and size is marginally more difficult but far more fun and she can live with that trade-off.

And the sooner they defeat this akuma the sooner she can make sure that no matter what Chat Noir’s real home life is like, he’ll have an escape to her own family.

(And if she tries really hard she can ignore the screaming revelation that her mother is apparently a Ladynoir shipper).

#ask game #alexseanchai #miraculous ladybug #my fanfiction #desperada spoilers #long post #this was supposed to be short but NOPE #it was an effort to not let it keEP GOING

73 notes · View notes

beneaththetangles · 5 years

Text

The Adoption of Zenitsu Agatsuma

The answer is simple and clear: It’s love.

Have you ever felt that kind of love from someone not bound to you in any way? I have, in bits and pieces—the young man who played basketball with me when I was a youth; the friend who chose me me first for his team rather than one of the athletic kids; the mentor who invested what little time he had in helping a young man who complained too much (maybe I’m Zenitsu after all!) grow into an adult. But I’ve also experienced this love in all its fullness. My faith paints the picture of adoption, of a God who chooses to bring us into his family at great sacrifice: “But when the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his Son, born of woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons.” (Galatians 4:4-5).

Like Zenitsu, I flounder each day. My problems remain and my character improvement is a slow process. But when I become a son, I’m given that which I do not deserve. And like Zenitsu as well, in one moment all that love poured into me leads to transformation, and like a flash of lightning, I can change into all that which otherwise I never would have become.

-----

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba can be streamed on Crunchyroll.

Featured illustration by P (reprinted w/permission).

#Anime #Christianity #Kimetsu no Yaiba #Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba #Zenitsu Agatsuma #Jigoro Kuwajima #Adoption #Articles #Author: TWWK

9 notes · View notes

gratefulfrog · 6 years

Text

Immigration Crisis myth vs reality

There is so much misinformation out there about the Trump administration's new "zero tolerance" policy that requires criminal prosecution, which then warrants the separating of parents and children at the border. Before responding to a post defending this policy, please do your research...As a professor at a local Cal State, I research and write about these issues, so here, I'll make it easier for you:

Myth: This is not a new policy and was practiced under Obama and Clinton - FALSE. The policy to separate parents and children is new and was instituted on 4/6/2018. It was the brainchild of John Kelly and Stephen Miller to serve as a deterrent for undocumented immigration, approved by Trump, and adopted by Sessions. Prior administrations detained migrant families, but didn’t have a practice of forcibly separating parents from their children unless the adults were deemed unfit. https://www.justice.gov/opa/press-release/file/1049751/download?utm_medium=email&utm_source=govdelivery

Myth: This is the only way to deter undocumented immigration - FALSE. Annual trends show that arrests for undocumented entry are at a 46 year low, and undocumented crossings dropped in 2007, with a net loss (more people leaving than arriving). Deportations have increased steadily though (spiking in 1996 and more recently), because several laws that were passed since 1996 have made it legally more difficult to gain legal status for people already here, and thus increased their deportations (I address this later under the myth that it's the Democrats' fault). What we mostly have now are people crossing the border illegally because they've already been hired by a US company, or because they are seeking political asylum. Economic migrants come to this country because our country has kept the demand going. But again, many of these people impacted by Trump's "zero tolerance" policy appear to be political asylum-seekers. https://www.npr.org/2017/12/05/568546381/arrests-for-illegal-border-crossings-hit-46-year-low

Myth: Most of the people coming across the border are just trying to take advantage of our country by taking our jobs - FALSE. Most of the parents who have been impacted by Trump's "zero tolerance" policy have presented themselves as political asylum-seekers at a U.S. port-of-entry, from El Salvador, Guatemala, and Honduras. Rather than processing their claims, they have been taken into custody on the spot and had their children ripped from their arms. The ACLU alleges that this practice violates the Asylum Act, and the UN asserts that it violates the UN Treaty on the State of Refugees, one of the few treaties the US has ratified. This is an illegal act on the part of the United States government, not to mention morally and ethically reprehensible. https://www.nytimes.com/2001/12/21/us/meatpackers-profits-hinge-on-pool-of-immigrant-labor.html

Myth: We're a country that respects the Rule of Law, and if people break the law, this is what they get - FALSE. We are a country that has an above-ground system of immigration and an underground system. Our government (under both parties) has always been aware that US companies recruit workers in the poorest parts of Mexico for cheap labor, and ICE (and its predecessor INS) has looked the other way because this underground economy benefits our country to the tune of billions of dollars annually. Thus, even though the majority of people crossing the border now are asylum-seekers, those who are economic migrants (migrant workers) likely have been recruited here to do jobs Americans will not do. https://www.upi.com/Top_News/Opinion/2016/10/26/Donald-Trumps-wall-ignores-the-economic-logic-of-undocumented-immigrant-labor/2621477498203/

Myth: The children have to be separated from their parents because there parents must be arrested and it would be cruel to put children in jail with their parents - FALSE. First, in the case of economic migrants crossing the border illegally, criminal prosecution has not been the legal norm, and families have been kept together at all cost. Also, crossing the border without documentation is a typically a misdemeanor not requiring arrest, but rather a civil proceeding. Additionally, parents who have been detained have historically been detained with their children in ICE "family residential centers," again, for civil processing. The Trump administration's shift in policy is for political purposes only, not legal ones. See p. 18: https://www.aclu.org/legal-document/ms-l-v-ice-plaintiffs-opposition-defendants-motion-dismiss-doc-56

Myth: We have rampant fraud in our asylum process the proof of which is the significant increase we have in the number of people applying for asylum. FALSE. The increase in asylum seekers is a direct result of the increase in civil conflict and violence across the globe. While some people may believe that we shouldn't allow any refugees into our country because "it's not our problem," neither our current asylum law, nor our ideological foundation as a country support such an isolationist approach. There is very little evidence to support Sessions' claim that abuse of our asylum-seeking policies is rampant. Also, what Sessions failed to mention is that the majority of asylum seekers are from China, not South of the border. Here is a very fair and balanced assessment of his statements: http://www.politifact.com/truth-o-meter/statements/2017/oct/19/jeff-sessions/jeff-sessions-claim-about-asylum-system-fraudulent/

Myth: The Democrats caused this, "it's their law." FALSE. Neither the Republicans nor the Democrats caused this, the Trump administration did (although the Republicans could fix this today, and have refused). I believe what this myth refers to is the passage of the Illegal Immigration Reform and Immigrant Responsibility Act, which were both passed under Clinton in 1996. These laws essentially made unauthorized entry into the US a crime (typically a misdemeanor for first-time offenders), but under both Republicans and Democrats, these cases were handled through civil deportation proceedings, not a criminal proceeding, which did not require separation. And again, even in cases where detainment was required, families were always kept together in family residential centers, unless the parents were deemed unfit (as mentioned above). Thus, Trump's assertion that he hates this policy but has no choice but to separate the parents from their children, because the Democrats "gave us this law" is false and nothing more than propaganda designed to compel negotiation on bad policy. https://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/americas/us-politics/trump-democrats-us-border-migrant-families-children-parents-mexico-separate-a8401521.html

Myth: The parents and children will be reunited shortly, once the parents' court cases are finalized. FALSE. Criminal court is a vastly different beast than civil court proceedings. Also, the children are being processed as unaccompanied minors ("unaccompanied alien children"), which typically means they are sent into the custody of the Office of Refugee Resettlement (ORR), which is part of the Department of Health and Human Services (DHS). Under normal circumstances when a child enters the country without his or her parent, ORR attempts to locate a family member within a few weeks, and the child is then released to a family member, or if a family member cannot be located, the child is placed in a residential center (anywhere in the country), or in some cases, foster care. Prior to Trump's new policy, ORR was operating at 95% capacity, and they simply cannot effectively manage the influx of 2000+ children, some as young as 4 months. Also, keep in mind, these are not unaccompanied minor children, they have parents. There is great legal ambiguity on how and even whether the parents will get their children back because we are in uncharted territory right now. According to the ACLU lawsuit (see below), there is currently no easy vehicle for reuniting parents with their children. Additionally, according to a May 2018 report, numerous cases of verbal, physical and sexual abuse were found to have occurred in these residential centers. https://www.aclu.org/news/aclu-obtains-documents-showing-widespread-abuse-child-immigrants-us-custody

Myth: This policy is legal. LIKELY FALSE. The ACLU filed a lawsuit against the Trump administration on 5/6/18, and a recent court ruling denied the government's motion to dismiss the suit. The judge deciding the case stated that the Trump Administration policy is "brutal, offensive, and fails to comport with traditional notions of fair play and decency." The case is moving forward because it was deemed to have legal merit. https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2018-06-07/aclu-suit-over-child-separations-at-border-may-proceed-judge

#immigrants #immigration #nation of immigrants #melting pot #human rights #morals #morality #give us your tired and weary #this is not normal #this is not okay #detention centers #myth vs reality #children

2 notes · View notes

dudewhoabides · 6 years

Quote

Have you heard that children were separated from their parents under Obama & Clinton? Then, you need a little Facts vs Myths lesson. Michelle Martin, PhD Cal State Fullerton summed up the most important FACTS: There is so much misinformation out there about the Trump administration's new "zero tolerance" policy that requires criminal prosecution, which then warrants the separating of parents and children at the border. Before responding to a post defending this policy, please do your research...As a professor at a local Cal State, I research and write about these issues, so here, I'll make it easier for you: Myth: This is not a new policy and was practiced under Obama and Clinton - FALSE. The policy to separate parents and children is new and was instituted on 4/6/2018. It was the brainchild of John Kelly and Stephen Miller to serve as a deterrent for undocumented immigration, approved by Trump, and adopted by Sessions. Prior administrations detained migrant families, but didn’t have a practice of forcibly separating parents from their children unless the adults were deemed unfit. https://www.justice.gov/…/press-rele…/file/1049751/download… Myth: This is the only way to deter undocumented immigration - FALSE. Annual trends show that arrests for undocumented entry are at a 46 year low, and undocumented crossings dropped in 2007, with a net loss (more people leaving than arriving). Deportations have increased steadily though (spiking in 1996 and more recently), because several laws that were passed since 1996 have made it legally more difficult to gain legal status for people already here, and thus increased their deportations (I address this later under the myth that it's the Democrats' fault). What we mostly have now are people crossing the border illegally because they've already been hired by a US company, or because they are seeking political asylum. Economic migrants come to this country because our country has kept the demand going. But again, many of these people impacted by Trump's "zero tolerance" policy appear to be political asylum-seekers. https://www.npr.org/…/arrests-for-illegal-border-crossings-… Myth: Most of the people coming across the border are just trying to take advantage of our country by taking our jobs - FALSE. Most of the parents who have been impacted by Trump's "zero tolerance" policy have presented themselves as political asylum-seekers at a U.S. port-of-entry, from El Salvador, Guatemala, and Honduras. Rather than processing their claims, they have been taken into custody on the spot and had their children ripped from their arms. The ACLU alleges that this practice violates the Asylum Act, and the UN asserts that it violates the UN Treaty on the State of Refugees, one of the few treaties the US has ratified. This is an illegal act on the part of the United States government, not to mention morally and ethically reprehensible. https://www.nytimes.com/…/meatpackers-profits-hinge-on-pool… Myth: We're a country that respects the Rule of Law, and if people break the law, this is what they get - FALSE. We are a country that has an above-ground system of immigration and an underground system. Our government (under both parties) has always been aware that US companies recruit workers in the poorest parts of Mexico for cheap labor, and ICE (and its predecessor INS) has looked the other way because this underground economy benefits our country to the tune of billions of dollars annually. Thus, even though the majority of people crossing the border now are asylum-seekers, those who are economic migrants (migrant workers) likely have been recruited here to do jobs Americans will not do. https://www.upi.com/…/Donald-Trumps-wall-ign…/2621477498203/ Myth: The children have to be separated from their parents because there parents must be arrested and it would be cruel to put children in jail with their parents - FALSE. First, in the case of economic migrants crossing the border illegally, criminal prosecution has not been the legal norm, and families have been kept together at all cost. Also, crossing the border without documentation is a typically a misdemeanor not requiring arrest, but rather a civil proceeding. Additionally, parents who have been detained have historically been detained with their children in ICE "family residential centers," again, for civil processing. The Trump administration's shift in policy is for political purposes only, not legal ones. See p. 18: https://www.aclu.org/…/ms-l-v-ice-plaintiffs-opposition-def… Myth: We have rampant fraud in our asylum process the proof of which is the significant increase we have in the number of people applying for asylum. FALSE. The increase in asylum seekers is a direct result of the increase in civil conflict and violence across the globe. While some people may believe that we shouldn't allow any refugees into our country because "it's not our problem," neither our current asylum law, nor our ideological foundation as a country support such an isolationist approach. There is very little evidence to support Sessions' claim that abuse of our asylum-seeking policies is rampant. Also, what Sessions failed to mention is that the majority of asylum seekers are from China, not South of the border. Here is a very fair and balanced assessment of his statements: http://www.politifact.com/…/jeff-sessions-claim-about-asyl…/ Myth: The Democrats caused this, "it's their law." FALSE. Neither the Republicans nor the Democrats caused this, the Trump administration did (although the Republicans could fix this today, and have refused). I believe what this myth refers to is the passage of the Illegal Immigration Reform and Immigrant Responsibility Act, which were both passed under Clinton in 1996. These laws essentially made unauthorized entry into the US a crime (typically a misdemeanor for first-time offenders), but under both Republicans and Democrats, these cases were handled through civil deportation proceedings, not a criminal proceeding, which did not require separation. And again, even in cases where detainment was required, families were always kept together in family residential centers, unless the parents were deemed unfit (as mentioned above). Thus, Trump's assertion that he hates this policy but has no choice but to separate the parents from their children, because the Democrats "gave us this law" is false and nothing more than propaganda designed to compel negotiation on bad policy. https://www.independent.co.uk/…/trump-democrats-us-border-m… Myth: The parents and children will be reunited shortly, once the parents' court cases are finalized. FALSE. Criminal court is a vastly different beast than civil court proceedings. Also, the children are being processed as unaccompanied minors ("unaccompanied alien children"), which typically means they are sent into the custody of the Office of Refugee Resettlement (ORR), which is part of the Department of Health and Human Services (DHS). Under normal circumstances when a child enters the country without his or her parent, ORR attempts to locate a family member within a few weeks, and the child is then released to a family member, or if a family member cannot be located, the child is placed in a residential center (anywhere in the country), or in some cases, foster care. Prior to Trump's new policy, ORR was operating at 95% capacity, and they simply cannot effectively manage the influx of 2000+ children, some as young as 4 months. Also, keep in mind, these are not unaccompanied minor children, they have parents. There is great legal ambiguity on how and even whether the parents will get their children back because we are in uncharted territory right now. According to the ACLU lawsuit (see below), there is currently no easy vehicle for reuniting parents with their children. Additionally, according to a May 2018 report, numerous cases of verbal, physical and sexual abuse were found to have occurred in these residential centers. https://www.aclu.org/…/aclu-obtains-documents-showing-wides… Myth: This policy is legal. LIKELY FALSE. The ACLU filed a lawsuit against the Trump administration on 5/6/18, and a recent court ruling denied the government's motion to dismiss the suit. The judge deciding the case stated that the Trump Administration policy is "brutal, offensive, and fails to comport with traditional notions of fair play and decency." The case is moving forward because it was deemed to have legal merit. https://www.bloomberg.com/…/aclu-suit-over-child-separation…

Karen Brown

1 note · View note

bloojayoolie · 6 years

Photo

Cats, Children, and Complex: DRAK0200 24250-3 years old Good looking, friendy, tail waggy, very playfu, affectionate, loves walks andbaths knows some basic commands - Soft& social during behavior eval &earned all s A+ Manhattan ACC Waiting for Love TO BE KILLED - 4/14/2018 HANDSOME FACE PAIRED WITH A SPECIAL HEART! Drake is known to "lick people hello" at the shelter. This classic, handsome youngster came to the shelter wagging his tail, greeting everyone and leaving everyone puzzled at why he was discarded. Some people are not wiling, or ready to be responsible pet owners and will offer up an excuse; for Drake this is unjust and tragic. The shelter reports him to be full of life, seeking to play, solicit affection and shine. He is entering his prime, and aside from catching the shelter cold, he is in optimum health and condition. His face is perfectly proportioned with big brown eyes, and a mega watt smile. It's impossible not to notice this young man. Fostering is free, short term with transport available. Drake's time is officially up at the shelter. The odds are stacked tightly against him, especially with this being the start of the weekend. Please message this page if you can foster or adopt this deserving, young, handsome family pet. DRAKE@MANHATTAN ACC Hello, my name is Drake My animal id is #24250 I am a male tan dog at the Manhattan Animal Care Center The shelter thinks I am about 3 years old, Came into shelter as stray Apr. 1, 2018 Drake is rescue only Drake is at risk due to behavior and medical concerns. Drake has a New Hope Only determination and should go to an adult only home where he can be given an appropriate amount of time to decompress in new situations. He also has been diagnosed with Canine Infectious Respiratory Disease Complex and will likely need in home care with a course of antibiotics. My medical notes are... Vet Notes 1/04/2018 [DVM Intake] DVM Intake Exam Estimated age: 3 Microchip noted on Intake? n Microchip Number (If Applicable): n History : DOH Bite - bite owners after being reprimanded for peeing in the house Subjective: BAR Observed Behavior - excited and playful, allowed for examination, suspicious of people, very tens on exam Evidence of Cruelty seen - n Evidence of Trauma seen -n Objective T = - P = 108 R = wnl BCS = 4/9 EENT: Eyes clear, ears clean, no nasal or ocular discharge noted Oral Exam: teeth in good cond PLN: No enlargements noted H/L: NSR, NMA, CRT < 2, Lungs clear, eupnic ABD: Non painful, no masses palpated U/G: two descended testicles MSI: Ambulatory x 4, skin free of parasites, no masses noted, healthy hair coat CNS: Mentation appropriate - no signs of neurologic abnormalities Rectal: externally normal Assessment: Healthy Prognosis: Excellent Plan: Neuter SURGERY: Okay for surgery 8/04/2018 SO BAR in kennel; eating well. EENT -- no ocular discharge. mucoid nasal discharge present; snuffling during observation. A CIRDC P doxycycline 100mg tablets -- give 3 tablets PO q24h x 14 days. cerenia 60mg tablet - give 1/2 tablet PO q24h x4days. Details on my behavior are... Behavior Condition: 1. Green Behavior History Behavior Assessment Upon intake, Drake was wagging his tail but would sometimes hard stare. When outside of the crate, Drake had a loose and wiggly body. Drake attempted to lick handler's face and was very affectionate. Drake allowed all handling. Basic Information:: Drake is a 3 year old unaltered large breed dog that the owner got from her sister six months ago. The owner is surrendering due to Drake biting her husband and daughter. The owner has never taken Drake to the veterinarian. Previously lived with:: 2 adults and 1 teenager How is this dog around strangers?: Drake is described as very friendly and playful with strangers. How is this dog around children?: Drake has only lived with a 17 year old girl and he was always playful with her. How is this dog around other dogs?: Drake has never been around other dogs. How is this dog around cats?: Drake has never been around cats. Resource guarding:: Drake is not bothered when his food bowl is touched while he eats or if a treat or toy is taken from him. Bite history:: Drake bit the owner's husband and daughter for the first time four days ago but he has never bitten or scratched another animal or person prior to this incident. Housetrained:: Partially Energy level/descriptors:: high Other Notes:: Drake hides when he hears loud noises. Drake is not bothered when he is taken off furniture, restrained, disturbed while he sleeps, or when he is brushed. Drake loves being bathed. Has this dog ever had any medical issues?: No For a New Family to Know: Drake is described as very playful. The owner's favorite thing about Drake is that he loves to be affectionate. Drake's favorite thing to do is go outside and go on walks. When the owner is home, Drake follows her around. Drake likes to play with balls and squeaky toys. Drake is kept mostly indoors and when taken outside, he uses the dirt. Drake sleeps on a special rug he has. Drake is free fed Purina dry food, wet food causes diarrhea. Drake knows how to sit, stop, and get off on command. On a leash, Drake pulls very hard. Date of intake:: 4/1/2018 Spay/Neuter status:: No Means of surrender (length of time in previous home):: Owner Surrender (In home for 6 months) Previously lived with:: Adults and a teenager (age 17) Behavior toward strangers:: Friendly and playful Resource guarding:: None reported Bite history:: Yes, Drake bit his owner when the owner attempted to push him back into the crate after Drake had peed in the house. He hit Drake on the hind quarter and Drake bit him, holding on. The owner's daughter attempted to pull Drake off her father's arm and Drake bit her leg. Both bites broke skin and required medical treatment. Housetrained:: Partially Energy level/descriptors:: Drake is described as very playful with a high level of activity. Date of assessment:: 4/8/2018 Look:: 1. Dog's eyes are averted, with tail wagging and ears back. Allows head to be held loosely in Assessor's cupped hands. Sensitivity:: 1. Dog leans into the Assessor, eyes soft or squinty, soft and loose body, open mouth. Tag:: 1. Dog assumes play position and joins the game. Or dog indicates play with huffing, soft 'popping' of the body, etc. Dog might jump on Assessor once play begins. Paw squeeze 1:: 1. Dog gently pulls back his/her paw. Paw squeeze 2:: 1. Dog gently pulls back his/her paw. Flank squeeze 1:: Item not conducted Flank squeeze 2:: Item not conducted Toy:: 1. Minimal interest in toy, dog may smell or lick, then turns away. Summary:: Drake quickly approached the assessor in the assessment room with a soft body and jumped up in a social manner. He remained social throughout the assessment, allowed all handling, and displayed no concerning behaviors. Date of intake:: 4/1/2018 Summary:: Drake had a loose, wiggly body and allowed handling. Date of initial:: 4/1/2018 Summary:: Drake was active, tense, and allowed handling. ENERGY LEVEL:: Drake's previous owner described him as having a high level of activity. We recommend long-lasting chews, food puzzles, and hide-and-seek games, in additional to physical exercise, to positively direct his energy and enthusiasm. BEHAVIOR DETERMINATION:: NEW HOPE ONLY Behavior Asilomar: TM - Treatable-Manageable Recommendations:: No children (under 13),Place with a New Hope partner Recommendations comments:: No children: Due to Drake's bite history, we recommend an adult only home. Place with a New Hope partner: Due to Drake's bite history, the behavior department recommends Drake be placed with a New Hope placement partner who is able to provide an experienced adult-only foster home. A period of decompression is recommended to allow Drake to acclimate comfortably to his new environment; force-free, reward based training only is advised when introducing Drake to new and unfamiliar situations. Consultation with a professional trainer/behaviorist is highly recommended for guidance to safely manage/modify any behavior Drake presents with outside of the care centers. Potential challenges: : House soiling,Fearful/potential for defensive aggression,Multiple-bite history/risk of future aggression Potential challenges comments:: House soiling: Drake is noted to have accidents in the house, and will likely need guidance with house training. We recommend positive reinforcement, reward-based training only. Accidents should never be punished as this will likely make the problem worse. Fearful/potential for defensive aggression: Drake has bitten when being forced into a crate. It is important to never forcibly push Drake or give him harsh corrections. Positive reinforcement, force-free training only should be used with Drake. Multiple-bite history/risk of future aggression: Drake bit two people in his previous home in a highly charged incident where one of the people was forcing him into a crate. At the care center, he has displayed social behavior, but we do not know what else may trigger him. Guidance from a professional trainer/behaviorist is recommended to assess behavior after decompression in a new home environment. Force-free, reward based training is advised when introducing or exposing Drake to new and unfamiliar situations. DRAKE IS RESCUE ONLY…..TO SAVE THIS PUP YOU MUST FILL OUT APPLICATIONS WITH AT LEAST 3 NEW HOPE RESCUES. PLEASE HURRY!!! IF YOU CAN FOSTER OR ADOPT THIS PUP, PLEASE PM OUR PAGE FOR ASSISTANCE. WE CAN PROVIDE YOU WITH LINKS TO APPLICATIONS WITH NEW HOPE RESCUES WHO ARE CURRENTLY PULLING FROM THE NYC ACC. PLEASE SHARE THIS DOG FOR A HOME TO SAVE HIS LIFE.

#funny #lol #humor #memes #meme #memehumor #dank memes #funny pics #rolf #lmao #Cats #Children #and C

2 notes · View notes

trendingnewsb · 6 years

Text

Struggling Mom Carries Baby With Poopy Diaper on PlaneThen a Man in 1st Class Sends Her a Message

ShareTweet

I tend to have anxiety. I also tend to overthink the things I’m having anxiety about.

So it was no wonder that when I had a trip scheduled to fly with my 6-month-old daughter, I was both anxiety-ridden and obsessively researching all the things one needs to know when travelling [sic] with baby.

It’s not hard to guess why I was so anxious.

For starters, it was not so many months ago when I was walking through REI, phone in hand, transfixed by a bizarre video of an Asian doctor being violently and forcibly removed from a plane.

Then there was the second viral video of a flight attendant who lost his marbles on a young mom with a baby over a stroller she was trying to carry on the plane.

Last, but not least, was my own experience seven years ago flying with an infant. I sat squished in the window seat next to a lady who had (I-kid-you-not) pants made from zippers. I’ve never seen anything like it before or since. Naturally, my almost-one-year old wanted nothing to do with the toys I brought, and only wanted to play with the unamused lady’s zippers. When my baby wasn’t fighting to get her hands on those delightful pants, she was biting the heck out of me every time we nursed with her newly budded teeth. Once we arrived, me barely intact, the stroller I had borrowed for the flight refused to lock, and so it kept folding up on my precious bundle as we wandered around the Denver airport ridiculously lost.

The way home wasn’t much better. The airline broke the stroller I had borrowed from a family member, and no compensation was received. And my baby bit the whole way back. Because why not? I think I vowed never to fly with a baby again.

Combine all of the above and I knew I needed to be prepared for All.The.Things. this go around. . .

Book an aisle seat on all flights — Check.

Bring a stroller I could trust and be able to handle easily in security, but make sure it’s not too expensive in case it gets damaged by the airline — Check.

Wear baby using a comfortable carrier with toys attached — Check.

Carry on enough clothes and diapers for baby and me for two days in case of a delay — Check.

Ask for doctor’s note for baby’s liquid medicine just in case — Check.

Only a few times in my life has my obsessive research actually benefitted me, and I would rank our flights to our destination as one of those times. I had neither too much, nor not enough stuff. Even when the pilot realized something was amiss on our flight at take off, and re-routed us back to the gate for an hour and a half delay, my baby did beautifully. She fussed for only about 5 minutes for the duration of our travel from Seattle to Georgia. And all the people around me ooh’ed and aah’ed over how well behaved my baby was.

Of course, all this combined made me an EXPERT on flying with baby. (I give you permission to laugh out loud, roll your eyes, or generally scoff — whatever’s your thing.)

So as I packed for the trip home, I mentally put together a blog post about how to travel with an infant.

I had the perfect outfit planned for nursing moms.

I had the perfect carry-on bags.

I had great hacks, like bringing your own empty bottle on for the in-flight drink — cause ain’t no way mama’s gonna be able to drink safely from a cup with an in-lap baby.

In fact, I was so absorbed in how to tell you all to fly that I lost track of how much time I was taking to get ready. Before I knew it, the hours I had to pack dwindled to a singular one.

“No worries,” I thought. “I don’t have any decisions to make. I just need to put everything in their bags.”

My daughter though, had her own set of plans. Which included at least 30 minutes of what I call nurse-sleeping (sleeping very attached to the boob.) My sister, Sarah, began packing for me until I could transfer the sleeping baby to her arms and take over myself. Before I know it, Sarah looks up and says, “We were supposed to leave 10 minutes ago.” 10 minutes after that, I’m finally ready. As I put my daughter in her car seat, I realize there is yellow-green on her back where there should not be any yellow-green. I have always been a Pampers girl. Through all my babies, foster, adopted, bio or babysat — Pampers have been my go-to. Except this time, Pampers wasn’t cutting it.

“No time to change her,” Sarah says. I rush back into the house once more to find my favorite red and pink strawberry muslin that is to die for, and then we’re off. I look up at the clock in the car console as she begins backing out of her driveway. Oh crap, I sigh. We have 45 minutes until my flight departs.

The short trip to the airport is made shorter by my sister’s speeding, and once we get to parking, we don’t have things perfectly planned. My daughter and one of my nephews is now asleep in the car. We desperately need another adult. “Quick,” Sarah says. “Grab your big bag, and whatever else you can take quickly, and get to ticketing so you can check your bag. I’ll park and get the kids and bring baby to you.”

And so I grab all my hands can, and rush to Delta’s tiny ticket counter at Augusta Regional Airport to check in at 4:29 for my 4:59 flight. (I know. I’m a rockstar at flying with kids, right?!?)

The courteous agent with dark skin and glowing white teeth greets me with a friendly smile. “I need to check in quickly,” I gush, mostly out of breath.

“Please do not tell me you are here for the 4:59 flight?” she questions.

“Yep — that’s the one!” I say.

“We have a minute, no seconds, to get your bag on the flight!” And with that she starts attacking her keyboard with lightning-fast fingers, as I quickly pass her my driver’s license then lift my 50-lb case onto the scale. She slaps stickers on my bag and urges me, “Get this bag to that agent right there, now!” I rush it off, then rush back to get my boarding pass. Sarah and the sleepy kids come in, and where the agent tells me it is now too late to check my car seat. “We just barely had enough time to get your bag on!” she puffs, mostly from being out of breath I think than from frustration. Everyone in the South always seems nice, so it’s hard to tell. I quickly kiss my sister and nephew good-bye, and take my poopy baby and boarding passes and a ridiculous amount of stuff off to security.

I never know whether to hold onto my boarding pass, or to put it in my bag through security, so I took a risk and shoved them into my Ergo which I loaded with all my other baby gear onto the conveyor belt: baby car seat, stroller, backpack, tote bag, ergo, shoes, electronics, liquids, etc. “Oh yes,” I say when asked, “I did leave the baby’s medicine in a cooler in the very bottom of my bag.” The TSA guards have a bit of compassion and don’t make me rummage through to get it. A jaunt through the “let’s-all-pretend-I’m-naked-device” and I scoop up my blowout baby back into my Ergo, toss my husband’s backpack on my back, put my tote in the stroller, with the upside-down car seat draped over the top, and slip on my shoes as I trek to the gate.

Trust me on this. No matter how crunchy granola you are — fly with a stroller.

I arrive to the gate as boarding is well underway. I try to steer to the right of the line to get to the ticket counter to gate check my items, but sadly the seats have barricaded me out. Straight through the line I must go.

“Excuse me, pardon me, so sorry,” I say clearly and loudly — far from my normal apologetic mumble. I hate creating a stir, yet here I am, parting the Red Sea of passengers. I am now totally sweaty, as my perfect outfit I wore did not account for the 90-degree heat outside nor frantic race inside carrying all things baby. Thankfully, the ticket agents were nice, and once again, I was thankful I was visiting the pleasant South where strangers generally are a bit more courteous than I am used to. With everything now officially taken care of, I part the sea yet again to make my way to the back of the line, then on to the back of the plane.

As soon as I get seated, I must make room for a svelte young man with blond hair and easy smile. I mentally crossed my fingers and hope he is as nice as everyone else I’ve encountered. As I fidget with my bag, loading toys and snacks for me in the pouch in the seat in front, feeling significantly less confident that I should write a blog about how to travel with an infant, a darling middle-aged flight attendant stands hesitatingly in the aisle next to me.

“Excuse me ma’am?” She taps on my shoulder.

And with that, my mind races. What have I forgotten? What did we do wrong? Am I losing my seat? Is someone complaining already? . . . My mind immediately throttles to hyper-drive. I don’t show it. I return her smile. She continues . . .

“There’s this guy in the front of the plane. He said he wanted to switch seats with the lady with the baby. And I think you’re the lady with the baby. Would you like to sit in first class?”

As I sat there a bit stunned, my fellow passengers began their own cheering session for me: “Yes, girl, you get that seat!” “Way to go!” “YES!” “Enjoy that first-class seat!”

So happy to be sitting in first class!

As I follow the flight attendant to the front of the plane, I pass a trim older gentleman with a big smile and kind eyes. “What seat am I in?” he asks. “21 D,” I reply (thinking to myself, “at the very back of the plane! I’m so sorry!”) After as many thanks as I can squeeze in, I sit down to a cushy wide seat, with enough room in front for both my bags and my legs. I somewhat sheepishly look around, hoping that no one is upset that they are now travelling with a baby in first class, where they presumably paid extra to get away from it all. Suddenly, another middle age man sitting directly in front of me swings around . . .

“Isn’t Pat the nicest? We work together at Huggies. He’s the lead designer on the diapers. At Huggies . . . we just LOVE babies. Hey . . . have you ever tried those teething tablets? We used those with my kids . . .”

And right then and there, I knew I was now a Huggies mom. Not because the diapers are better. (I’m sure they’re great.) But because a company who professes to love babies ACTUALLY hires people who LOVE babies. So much so that they’ll go sit on the back of the plane, where no drinks were served, so I could travel more comfortably with my poopy little squish in THEIR first-class seat.

Proudly wearing her Huggies diaper!

So Pat, the lead designer at Huggies, from Delta flight 725 from Augusta to Atlanta, if you ever get a chance to read this story — I want you to thank you again in a way I couldn’t on our short little pass in the aisle.

Thank you for restoring some of my faith in humanity.

Thank you for being an example of kindness I can share with my daughter growing up.

Thank you for living what you preach.

Thank you for being inconvenienced with a smile on your face.

Thank you for acknowledging the value of all little people in a world which so often discredits their worth.

Thank you for putting a smile on both our faces during what could have been a very difficult trip.

And for all the Delta employees who treated me and my baby with kindness and courtesy, you all did the best I could have asked for. Thanks so much for making flying fun again.

It didn’t take long for her to get as comfy cozy as I was!

As for the poopy blow-out diaper. Well, it turns out the flight was so short that as soon as we got high enough to turn off the fasten seatbelt sign, it was time to turn it on to start the descent. So it, and we, had to wait until we were in the Atlanta airport before I could change her. Still, baby fared great with a smile on her face. And nothing could wipe the smile off my face. Not even a stinky blowout diaper.

Oh so rarely will I ever ask you to share my blog. But in this one case, I would love for Pat to hear the whole story of how his one act of kindness touched our family. If you’d like to help Pat hear about this, please click “share” on this post. I would love for Pat, Huggies, and the Delta family to know their kindness matters.

Disclaimer: Besides the first-class seat, I received nothing in return for this post. Except maybe a strong desire to ALWAYS fly first class. I’m just saying — it was pretty amazing.

Thank you Pat from Huggies! We think you’re the best!

.IRPP_ruby , .IRPP_ruby .postImageUrl , .IRPP_ruby .centered-text-area{height:130px;position:relative}.IRPP_ruby,.IRPP_ruby:hover,.IRPP_ruby:visited,.IRPP_ruby:active{border:0!important}.IRPP_ruby .clearfix:after{content:"";display:table;clear:both}.IRPP_ruby{display:block;transition:background-color 250ms;webkit-transition:background-color 250ms;width:100%;opacity:1;transition:opacity 250ms;webkit-transition:opacity 250ms;background-color:#FFF;box-shadow:0 1px 2px rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.17);-moz-box-shadow:0 1px 2px rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.17);-o-box-shadow:0 1px 2px rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.17);-webkit-box-shadow:0 1px 2px rgba(0,0,0,0.17)}.IRPP_ruby:active,.IRPP_ruby:hover{opacity:1;transition:opacity 250ms;webkit-transition:opacity 250ms;background-color:#eaeaea}.IRPP_ruby .postImageUrl{background-position:center;background-size:cover;float:left;margin:0;padding:0;width:31.59%}.IRPP_ruby .centered-text-area{float:right;width:65.65%;padding:0;margin:0}.IRPP_ruby .centered-text{display:table;height:130px;left:0;top:0;padding:0;margin:0}.IRPP_ruby .IRPP_ruby-content{display:table-cell;margin:0;padding:0 74px 0 0px;position:relative;vertical-align:middle;width:100%}.IRPP_ruby .ctaText{border-bottom:0 solid #fff;color:#3498DB;font-size:13px;font-weight:bold;letter-spacing: .125em;margin:0;padding:0}.IRPP_ruby .postTitle{color:#000;font-size:16px;font-weight:600;margin:0;padding:0}.IRPP_ruby .ctaButton{background:url(https://faithit.com/wp-content/plugins/intelly-related-posts-pro/assets/images/next-arrow.png)no-repeat;display:inline-block;height:130px;width:54px}.IRPP_ruby .ctaButton{background-color:#3498DB;margin-left:10px;position:absolute;right:0;top:0}.IRPP_ruby:after{content:"";display:block;clear:both}