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halothenthehorns · 3 years

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TLTNL- THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC

Harry desperately hoped that this chapter would be the hearing, so that he could be done with it already. He really was playing off to his family how unconcerned he was, and doing a pretty good job of it considering he always had something else so far to distract him. He just couldn't shake off that it was eating away at him though, there would come a time where he'd be leaving Hogwarts for a long, extended period of time, and it wasn't because he graduated. This wasn't because he was expelled though, right?!

"Harry, you get lost in those pages? We're not that far in," James called as Harry just kept staring without starting. Harry gave a soft jump, but managed half a smile for his dad before he got started.

Harry slammed back into consciousness the next morning well before the sun would have. He lay there for a few moments in immobile fear before adrenaline got him moving and dressed, finding the freshly pressed clothes from Mrs. Weasley on his bed.

Lily pressed her lips very firmly together. She didn't even know what would have come out of Molly doing this for her son, again, but she knew Harry wouldn't have appreciated the comment as he was clearly touched by the thought.

He snuck out of his room without awakening Ron, and with nowhere else to go headed down into the kitchen, expecting to find no one else there, but instead finding Sirius, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Tonks and Remus. Tonks managed a morning greeting for him around a yawn, this morning her hair was blond and curly.

"Wonder just how often she changes that," Sirius tried, and failed, to keep the jitteriness out of his own voice at what Harry could be fixing to read.

"On the hour I'm sure, I know you would," Remus tried, and failed, at a joking tone.

She tried to draw out a chair for Harry to sit, but only managed to knock another one over in the process.

"I'm sure that helped to wake her up," James did get up a smile for that.

Mrs. Weasley was already at the stove, prepared to get anything for breakfast Harry would like, but he only requested some toast while Lupin turned back to Tonks and clearly continued a previous conversation about Scrimgeour.

Harry shifted unconsciously at the sound of that name, while Lily wondered what that old Auror was up to.

"Hang on, I know that surname," Sirius ruffled his brow before snapping his fingers and saying, "that's right, Brutus Scrimgeour wrote a book called The Beater's Bible."

"Which holds all of one page, and one sentence," Remus rolled his eyes, "take out the Seeker, so I hardly think he should be held in such high esteem."

"That was a work of art that was," Sirius insisted, but for once Harry didn't really want to sit around and watch them pick at each other, so he was actually glad when Lily told them to quiet down.

She told that he'd been asking her and Kingsley some funny questions at work.

"Not about Sirius though?" James yelped, now very well distracted by Harry's problem.

"I'm sure that's what I'm keeping tabs on," Remus pacified.

Harry felt vaguely grateful that he was not required to join in the conversation.

"Which means you weren't paying attention," Sirius pouted, as he had been a bit curious to hear the end of that.

His insides were squirming. Mrs. Weasley placed a couple of pieces of toast and marmalade in front of him. He tried to eat, but it was like chewing carpet.

"I find it hard to believe the woman you've so consistently praised for her cooking could manage to ruin toast," Remus smirked.

"Must have something to do with having to eat all by his lonesome, that can be awkward for some," Sirius did get in an almost playful tone.

Mrs. Weasley sat down on his other side and started fussing with his shirt. He wished she wouldn't.

"So do I," Lily couldn't seem to stop that one escaping, causing Harry to wince and not look up at her.

Tonks was still talking about how she'd have to pass the message along to Dumbledore she couldn't do guard duty again tonight, she was just to tired, punctuating that by finishing on another yawn.

"How did you manage to phase out the best part of that conversation?" James pouted. "They were talking about this mysterious guard duty again! If you can't find out about this stupid thing Voldemort wants, at least you could focus on that!"

Harry could just feel a sucker punch winding up to get him good if he even considered pausing on the phrasing of that for just a second, even if he was dying to linger on why those two things should be put together...

"He didn't phase out anything," Lily scolded, misunderstanding Harry's look. "Tonks just switched topics, don't go blaming Harry when he's been shown repeatedly to pick up on conversations that aren't even going on right next to him."

Arthur quickly offered to cover for her, he had to do a report tonight anyways.

"What on earth are they guarding that's so lax he can be doing homework while sitting on it?" Remus blinked in surprise. "I'd think that would have fallen under Harry watching duty."

"Whatever it is must be boring as drywall," Sirius agreed, meaning it couldn't be that important, just some side project. Why couldn't he at least be doing that then? He didn't bring it up though just because he didn't want to hear someone telling him again of where he was supposed to be.

Arthur turned his attention on Harry then and promised this would all be over soon, in a few hours his name would be cleared. Harry could think of nothing to say to that.

"Can't honestly think of anything to say to that either," James agreed.

He tried to soothe the hearing was on his floor, in Amelia Bones's office.

"Haven't heard of her," Lily muttered nervously.

Tonks spoke up eagerly that she was Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. She was fair, she'd hear Harry out.

Harry wasn't at all comforted he had no actual feelings for this being said, maybe that meant it was so uneventful and he walked away in complete comfort? Then why was he feeling such a bad omen for what had just been read?

Sirius quickly tacked on not for him to lose his temper. Just stick to the facts and be polite.

"You know that kind of advice from him really is a walking oxymoron," Remus smirked.

Harry just nodded along as Lupin added that the law was on Harry's side, all underage wizards were allowed to use magic in life-threatening situations.

"So everyone keeps saying," Harry grumped, "yet I can't help but notice no one can look me in the eyes when they do."

Harry didn't have to respond to that one as he was distracted by Mrs. Weasley trying to attack his hair with a wet comb, demanding of no one if it ever laid flat?

"No," all five of them said as one, James in fact ruffling up his hair for emphasis.

Harry just shook his head as answer, while Arthur butted in maybe they should just go up there early. Harry stood at once in agreement, while everyone wished him one last bit of good luck, Sirius even promising that if everything wasn't fine, he'd see to Amelia Bones.

"Least you know Sirius doesn't play around with the important things," James chuckled, leaving Harry still unsure how much of a joke that was supposed to be.

Harry smiled weakly. Mrs. Weasley hugged him, promising everyone had their fingers crossed.

"That is the most honest thing anyone's yet said to him," Lily said grudgingly.

He forced one last goodbye for them all as he followed Mr. Weasley out the front door, and even as he glanced behind Grimmauld place was vanishing behind him. Harry kept close to Mr. Weasley's heels as he asked if he normally walked to work?

Arthur said no, he usually just apparated, but considering he was making an appearance for magical misconduct, the less magical his arrival the better.

While none of them outright disagreed with that, this did feel quite odd to them. Harry had needed a whole guard to escort him to Grimmauld place from the Dursleys, but now just Arthur was deemed safe enough to get Harry there? The date of Harry's leaving that place had been unknown to even him, yet the fact that there was unquestionably spies in the Ministry who would know this date, and so could be in fact planning an ambush for Harry to arrive by his lonesome seemed honestly like a far more likely possibility. It genuinely bugged the current Order members they couldn't seem to get a handle on this Order's priorities, regarding Harry or anything!

Mr. Weasley kept his hand tight in his own pocket the whole way to the subway, and even as he entered the muggle filled underground, though his enthusiasm for looking at all things around him didn't dim.

"I really just can not wait to meet him in person," Lily said with honest fondness at the idea of him, he just seemed so pleasant and happy to be around even while he was being as on guard and serious as possible.

He kept muttering how wondrous and fabulous the old automatic ticket machines, that were out of order, were.

"Doesn't make them any less interesting," James said even without knowing what that was, and honestly not bothering to ask.

They boarded a train with Mr. Weasley constantly checking all the maps along the way, to check their stops as well as fascination on his part.

"If he usually Apparates, how does he even know where he's going?" Harry asked just for something to kick around a bit of conversation and not dwell on what he was heading towards. Why was the idea of going to the Ministry filling him with such heavy amounts of dread? Just what happened here to make him feel like running screaming from the room? This couldn't all be tied to his fear of being expelled-

"I'm sure Arthur in particular asked for directions," Lily pointed out, "but I also know that upon anyone's very first time there they have to go in through the visitor entrance, and so have to get there in the Muggle way somehow. I'm confident Arthur's just going off his memories of his first few visits there."

Every time the train came to a halt he'd utter how many stops they had left until their turn, until finally they were exiting into the street and at first he blinked around in confusion.

"Because that's encouraging to hear from your guide," Remus snorted.

For one heart stopping moment Harry thought they'd gotten lost, but then Arthur seemed to find his bearings and lead them off down a side road. He apologized for his momentary confusion, he'd never been in the visitors' entrance before.

Harry reopened his mouth with questioning eyes on his mother, who shrugged and corrected herself, "perhaps I was generalizing a bit too much then, I was speaking as a Muggleborn. I suppose as Arthur has most likely been there before he got a job, just like Ron in his youth, then it was simply just asking for directions."

They longer they walked the less imposing the buildings around them became, until finally they came into a shabby square full of unkept offices and a pub. Harry had expected something more imposing for the Ministry of Magic.

"After you've seen the Leaky Cauldron?" James reminded. "I'd have thought by now you'd learned we like to conceal our things on the outside as undesirable as possible from Muggles."

"It still threw me off," Harry shrugged.

Arthur went right up to a rickety phone booth that had a few panes of glass missing, and then offered the door for Harry to enter first.

Harry glanced around curiously, but saw no one else looking particularly surprised, which meant they'd all used this at least once. He decided to just roll with it rather than asking, as he was fixing to find out anyways.

Mr. Weasley unhooked the phone from the lever, which was falling apart and looked as if someone had tried to rip it out at some point, and dialed the number six two four four two.

Lily smiled to herself, though this time she was entirely sure she was the only one who got the joke of what those numbers could spell on a telephone, the word magic.

As the dial whirred smoothly back into place, a cool female voice sounded inside the telephone box, not from the receiver in Mr. Weasley's hand, but as loudly and plainly as though an invisible woman were standing right beside them.

Harry's eyes flipped wide in surprise, but only for a moment before he moved on like this was now perfectly natural to him. Lily almost longed for that childish awe she'd seen on his face at every new magical thing he'd come across back during the first few books, and suddenly wanted her baby back in her arms for just a moment, just a reminder she could still have some of her baby to her.

She spoke for them to say their name and business, and Arthur answered for both of them. A silver visitors badge slipped out of the coin slot for Harry, and then the voice instructed for them to stop by the security desk. Then the bottom of the box shuddered, and they were sinking down into the ground.

"It's underground?" Harry said in surprise.

"No reason why not," James agreed.

They went through a dark tunnel with a loud grinding noise of gears their only source of sensation, until finally light began pouring into their feat, and when Harry could finally look around again, his mouth flopped open at the sight of the Ministry of Magic.

Lily frowned to herself, now wishing because of before she could see that expression on him again, but he didn't seem too moved by the reappearance of this place in his mind. If anything he was looking more ill the longer they lingered on the place.

They were standing at one end of a splendid hall with a polished wood floor. The peacock blue ceiling was inlaid with gleaming golden symbols that kept moving and changing like some enormous heavenly noticeboard.

"It is," Sirius agreed, "though those are actually enhanced star trackers and constellations in symbol form."

Harry couldn't decide if he was joking or not, but laughed all the same.

All along the edges were chimneys that were glowing green and near constantly popping out people from the Floo network arriving for work. Halfway down the hall was a fountain.

A group of golden statues, larger than life-size, stood in the middle of a circular pool.

Harry was getting more antsy the longer he kept getting out a description of that place, unconsciously moving closer to Sirius with every new thing that left his brain feeling like swiss cheese.

Tallest of them all was a noble-looking wizard with his wand pointing straight up in the air. Grouped around him were a beautiful witch, a centaur, a goblin and a house-elf. The last three were all looking adoringly up at the witch and wizard.

James snorted in disgust, that fountain was the most idiotic thing he'd ever seen in his life.

Imposed into the bottom of the statue of Magical Brethren was a notice saying all coins donated into the water would be proceeds to St. Mungo's Hospital.

"I wonder how much income that actually generates," Lily said randomly.

"I like to think it at least makes someone happy to think it's helping," Sirius said fairly, he'd been known to dump a handful of coins in it every time he passed, which admittedly wasn't often.

Harry's first thought was, if he wasn't expelled, he'd put ten Galleons into there.

"Those magic well wishes have to come true at some point," Lily told him with a grin, causing Harry to at least smile at her again.

Mr. Weasley guided Harry into a crowd that was mostly passing a bored looking security man, but Harry stopped in front of him and was subjected to a golden rod passing over him, and then regretfully handed over his wand to be placed on a scale looking object that spat out the properties of his wand. He stabbed the information onto a notice with others and then gave Harry back his wand which he took with relief. He hardly glanced once at Harry through the whole exchange.

"Gee thanks," James rolled his eyes, though he did understand how monotonous and boring that man's job must be, it sounded impossible to muster up enthusiasm especially that early in the morning.

Harry politely thanked him all the same, which only garnered attention long enough for the man to realize who he may be looking at and glance up at Harry's forehead.

Sirius gave a sarcastic little applause for him taking so long to realize this.

Arthur was already steering Harry away though into a series of gates that went into lifts and a huge assortment of wizards, including one carrying a cardboard box that was smoking slightly.

"I'm sure that has an interesting story," James said in a strained voice as he watched Remus wince, everyone but Harry knowing which floor that box would most likely be going to.

Arthur greeted him as Bob, and asked what he had there?

"No, really, does Arthur know everyone?" Lily shook her head in disbelief as it seemed every time Arthur was mentioned he began speaking to a dozen new people.

The man began seriously no one was sure,

"No one ever seems sure about me," Sirius smirked, and Harry finally broke his stream of bad mood to giggle at that again, though it only made the flood of worry rise again to another degree...something about Sirius in this place- he closed his eyes sharply and considered whacking himself in the forehead to get his brain to stop before he really hurt himself and kept going just a spot more loudly.

It seemed like a standard chicken until it started breathing fire, and now it looked like a serious breach of the Ban on Experimental Breeding.

"I would never breach any such thing!" Sirius yipped, causing Harry to laugh harder and his friends to groan louder.

The lift arrived then, and they got on with a few more people, the same cool female voice as before instructing which landing they stopped on each time, like Level Seven, Department of Magical Games and Sports, including such things as the Official Gobstones Club, and Ludicrous Patents Office.

In the bustle of people coming and going from each stop, a man managed to whack a few people with his arms full of brooms.

"There's an Official Gobstones Club?" Harry asked, mouth twitching as he tried to picture something he'd seen as a playful game around Hogwarts in World Cup style with fans cheering on a bunch of people squatting on the ground.

"There's an official everything," James smirked.

Lily was just wondering at that last one, if that was actually a person's name or they really had to create a whole office for the insane patents people invented, both were possible honestly.

The next was Level Six, Department of Magical Transportation, incorporating the Floo Network Authority, Broom Regulatory Control, Portkey Office and Apparation Test Centre.

"Wouldn't the man who just stepped off with the brooms go to Broom Regulatory Control?" Harry asked, seeming to get into it now of questioning each and every floor and what all those could entail. He wished he didn't have such bad feelings of this place, it sounded fascinating now that he was hearing about it.

"Depends on what the brooms are for honestly," Remus shrugged, "he could be delivering them to someone, or he could have just gotten off on the wrong floor."

Once again the lift doors opened and four or five witches and wizards got out; at the same time, several paper aeroplanes swooped into the lift.

Lily blinked in confusion of what those could be for.

Harry was watching them flap around the top curiously as Arthur explained those were interdepartmental memos. They used to use live owls, but the mess was unbelievable, droppings everywhere.

"Oh," Lily nodded in understanding, "well that's new."

"Must be nice not to have to banish the mess away all day," James chuckled.

On Level Five they also passed by the Department of International Magical Cooperation,

Harry gave a bit of a wince as he read that out, hating any reminder of Percy, even where he used to work.

and Level Four, Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, incorporating Beast, Being and Spirit Divisions, plus a few others.

Remus flinched hard enough he looked like he'd just dodged a deadly spell, and Harry went from looking back at the words, back to him, and blanched in surprise as he realized what about that could bother him so much. "They, they don't really have you labeled as a, as one of those do they?" He demanded.

Remus smiled without humor as he reminded Harry, "I know you took a lesson over this Harry, yes I am classified as a beast."

Harry opened and closed his mouth in outrage, but he couldn't think of how to put into words just how wrong that was, it should go without saying! A dragon was a beast, as were nifflers and that stupid chicken, but Remus fell into the same ranking as them?!

Remus was touched by Harry's reaction, but hoping to get him to move past this he explained, "My parents took me down there and had me registered after I was bitten, though thankfully the Ministry never compared that list with any of Hogwarts students, or staff for that matter or I could have gotten into a lot of trouble."

"Why would your parents do that?" Harry demanded, his face still simmering with rage. "It clearly wouldn't do you any good."

"It's the law," he quietly reminded, clearly he was only making this worse, and the faces of stone from his friends showed he wouldn't be getting any help in playing this off. "My father was a prominent man in this department, what happened to me became well known, couldn't hardly keep it hidden." The bitterness tinging his voice finally made Harry realize lingering on this was helping nothing.

The man with the fire breathing chicken stepped out here, along with the exchange of more memos coming and going, before they moved down to Level Three, Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, including the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee.

"I always loved the phrasing of that," Remus muttered to himself, "Muggle Worthy Excuse Committee, they couldn't come up with a better title?"

Sirius snorted quietly just because he agreed, but he was still focused on going to the floor above and giving those who had labeled his friend like that a good bat-bogey hex for starters.

Nearly everyone left on this lift, leaving only three left to reach Level Two.

"It didn't mention the office you're in this whole time," Harry noted to his mother

"It doesn't say every single one of them," Lily agreed. "As of now I'm still in the Wizengamot Administration Services, which is a lot of clerical work and learning the laws I'm hoping to one day help with. I'm working my way up to the Wizengamot Services."

For just a moment Harry was entirely sure by that steely glint in her eyes his mother could be a Minister for Magic if she put her mind to it, but then he realized what age she was and he'd never see her any older, and so quickly flipped back to reading.

Arthur stepped off with Harry, telling that his office was at the far end of this place.

"You two work on the same floor?" James asked in surprise.

"I've seen him in passing," Lily agreed, "but I've never stopped to have a chat with him. I just know our offices aren't anywhere near each other, I've certainly never visited it."

They began passing through winding corridors with an occasional window showing bright sunlight outside, which prompted Harry to ask that they were still underground.

Mr. Weasley agreed those were enchanted by the Magical Maintenance. Last time they'd wanted a raise they'd decided to make it hurricane weather for two months.

"Oh that's mature," Remus snorted.

"What I would have done," Sirius agreed with a smirk, except maybe hurricanes were too kind, tornados had much more of an impact.

They turned a corner, walked through a pair of heavy oak doors and emerged in a cluttered open area divided into cubicles, which was buzzing with talk and laughter. Memos were zooming in and out of cubicles like miniature rockets. A lopsided sign on the nearest cubicle read: Auror Headquarters.

Harry felt a thrill shoot through him as he found this place. Finally something good he could focus on, he felt no ill will towards this office.

Harry looked surreptitiously through the doorways as they passed.

James couldn't help a little intrigue himself. He had entertained the idea through most of his years at Hogwarts, but honestly after realizing what the job had done to Moody, even the fake one but honestly such a good act alike the point still stood, he was now considering some other options. It didn't stop him from listening intently to what he'd been thinking of himself doing.

The Aurors had covered their cubicle walls with everything from pictures of wanted wizards and photographs of their families, to posters of their favourite Quidditch teams and articles from the Daily Prophet. A scarlet-robed man with a ponytail longer than Bill's was sitting with his boots up on his desk, dictating a report to his quill. A little further along, a witch with a patch over one eye was talking over the top of her cubicle wall to Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"Oh joy, so where am I this morning? I here Greece is lovely this time of-" he cut himself off and ducked just in time to stop Moony smacking him again.

Kingsley greeted Weasley in an indifferent tone as he called he'd like a word.

Arthur agreed if it was only for a moment, speaking as if to a passing person more than anything, while Harry tried to at least say hello to Kingsley before Mr. Weasley stepped on his foot.

"Oh come on Harry, you were even warned why it's best these two in particular not go shouting about being in touch with Voldemort," Sirius scolded for that lapse in his paying attention. "Surely you'd have guessed it wasn't a good idea for them to even pretend to know each other on anymore than a passing name."

"It caught me off guard," Harry defended, even while he shrugged in agreement he should have been paying more attention.

They followed Kingsley along the row and into the very last cubicle. Harry received a slight shock; blinking down at him from every direction was Sirius's face.

"That sounds like a dream come true for Kingsley, getting to see me from all sides," Sirius forced a grin that looked almost painful, while James was considering getting up and sitting on him soon to try and force that joke to end.

Kingsley thrust some paperwork in Arthur's hands, saying he needed every bit of information possible on flying vehicles as they were now going under the assumption Black could be using his flying motorcycle.

Sirius' face suddenly puckered with a concern he hadn't had to feel since the first chapter, "what did Hagrid do with my bike?"

"Sirius Onion Black," Remus scolded at once, "I don't find that a top priority."

"Shut it you," Sirius snipped at him. "My real middle name is stupid enough, why did you ever think that was funny?"

"Same reason you seem to think mocking my middle name is," he shrugged without remorse.

Harry interrupted the two with what little he could offer, "as far as I know, err, well I'm sure someone still has it. Maybe Hagrid kept it all this time." There was something stirring in him he didn't quite like about that answer, though he had no idea why that would give him a bad memory.

Sirius did not look too happy about the idea, but as the others considered Sirius getting that monstrosity back at a time like this the worst idea possible, were relieved when Harry changed the subject.

Kingsley tipped Harry an enormous wink and added, in a whisper to be sure to pass along the magazine, he'd find something interesting it it.

"Kingsley's clearly a master of subtlety," James rolled his eyes.

"About as much as you are," Lily agreed.

Then back in normal tones that Weasley needed to be quick about this report, last time their investigation had been put on hold for a month because of that delay over the firelegs report.

"Wonder if he did that on purpose," Remus did get an amused smirk out of that, while James mouthed the word firelegs to himself in confusion.

Mr. Weasley coolly responded if anyone had actually read the report, they'd know the term was firearms.

"I'd be offended too," Lily agreed while she tried to hide her own smile as James realized what had really been meant.

Then he said it would have to wait at least a bit, he was very busy, then added in softer tones that if Kingsley could get off by seven, Molly would be making meatballs.

Sirius felt his stomach grumble, which he for once ignored. He couldn't care less about food right now when he needed to know how the rest of Harry's life was going to pan out in him going back to school or not.

He beckoned to Harry then and escorted him back away into a dimly lit hallway that ended with two doors, one a broom cupboard, and something resembling an office that was slightly smaller with two desks cramped inside, a tattered plaque announcing this as the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office.

Lily's eyes flipped wide in surprise as she yelped, "well it's no wonder I've never found the place! Just what's this, having his whole office in that dingy little corner?"

"Didn't you say it was one of the most popular offices that people requested information from," Harry agreed as he felt the offense for Arthur rearing up in him. "Why would they have the place so dismal?"

"Disrespect," Sirius sniffed in disgust. "The Minister would never want to admit how important an office about Muggle Artefacts could be."

"Not all Ministers are like that surely," Harry persisted, though he wouldn't feel any better if he was told this was a recent downgrade.

"Honestly Harry I wish I knew more," Lily's face stayed the same red in frustration, "but I've no idea, never had to find the place myself as I've always sent an owl along."

Harry still sincerely hoped that Arthur did get what he deserved at some point. Surely the place could be magically expanded and he just liked the small space?

Still, what little space there was had been done up in Arthur's style. He had overflowing cabinets and baskets of paperwork, and the wall space was all done up with muggle things.

James suddenly felt a whim to go and have Arthur explain those things to him, as he hadn't recognized much of it. He always enjoyed Lily and Sirius telling him about this stuff, but he still had a want to try and make a connection to the Weasley's at least for Harry's sake regarding Ron, even if he wouldn't feel as prone to coming over to the house, he could draw the line at having to be on just passing name mentioning terms with Molly.

Sitting on Arthur's desk was more paperwork, a toaster hiccuping, and a picture of all the Weasleys minus Percy.

They all gave a nasty wince for that reminder, even managing to block out Harry's inquiries of the intricacies of Magic that knew what went on outside it's painting like that.

Arthur apologized for their not being a window in here, and offered Harry to sit at Perkins desk, he didn't seem to be in yet. Harry had to squeeze himself into the space to reach the chair while he watched Mr. Weasley start rifling through the papers Kingsley had handed him, extracting one called The Quibbler.

Harry felt an upsurge of affection go off in him at that particular magazine, but one quick look around and he realized it didn't mean anything to anyone in here. It did manage to make them all the more curious what this could have to do with Sirius, so he read eagerly.

He muttered to himself that yes indeed, Sirius would get a kick out of this, then cut off in surprise what that was?

"Oh come on," Sirius pouted, "I wanted to know about that thing. Don't suppose you know what The Quibbler's usual articles are Harry?" He persisted.

"No," Harry sighed with regret, "but I'm hoping I'm there when it gets passed along so I can find out too." There really was something very dear to him attached to all this.

A memo had zoomed down onto Arthur's desk and he turned attention to that instead, finding it containing information about the third regurgitating public toilet, this time located in Bethnal Green.

"Well I definitely can't say Arthur doesn't get up to some interesting things," Sirius said without a trace of sarcasm. He really wanted to go meet him as well, this was just sounding more fascinating by the minute.

Harry asked what that was about, and Mr. Weasley explained it was some Muggle baiters who'd been doing this in other towns as well. Instead of flushing the contents of the porcelain, it all came shooting up nonstop, completely confusing the pumbles who arrived to help of course.

"What's a pumble? And what's it have to do with a toilet?" James couldn't stop himself from asking now.

"I think he meant plumber, and they use tools to fix them when they get a leak, instead of us just using a charm," Sirius shrugged.

"I feel like a plumber would have an issue with this one though," Remus chuckled.

Harry corrected the term was plumbers, which Arthur quickly agreed with and said he hoped someone caught them at it soon.

Harry asked if it would be the Aurors who did that, and Arthur corrected this was too low level for them, no it would be the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol, cutting himself off to greet Perkins.

Harry felt a sudden bad feeling at Perkins arrival, and rather than dwelling on that for a moment he turned curiously to ask, "so what's the difference?"

"An Auror goes after, well people like me at that time I suppose," Sirius shrugged, ignoring the wince this caused in everyone else. "Big time criminals who really are a top priority to get put away. The Magical Law Enforcement Patrol deals with more trivial things, hunting down little complaints and mostly getting their exercise in by making house calls and such.

"Aurors have to start in there and work up through some really hard training and a ton of recommendations," James agreed with a suffering look. "It's why it takes so long to make it to Auror status, not many have the patience to work through all that."

Harry was still fascinated by the whole thing, but knew he couldn't play off this moment of dread forever.

A stooped, timid-looking old wizard with fluffy white hair had just entered the room, panting.

"What's got him in such a bother?" Remus stiffened in concern, nothing could have happened to Percy to cause this, right?

He gasped in relief at finding Arthur, spluttering on about how he'd sent an owl but obviously that had been missed!

"Bet that gave us a bleeding heart attack," Sirius muttered as he kept watching the book for the bomb.

It was an urgent message-

Arthur cut off he knew about the regurgitating toilet.

"I feel like that's not entirely 'urgent'," Lily muttered with unease.

Perkins corrected this was about Potter's hearing!

Harry's voice was already pitching in concern as he realized he was fixing to go running through a living nightmare.

they've changed the time and venue - it starts right now in Courtroom Ten!

Sirius said something that Harry guessed he must have been learned from Kreacher, but he also didn't need much of a clarification for what it meant. He could already feel that nasty kick to his gut telling him he hadn't read wrong, and in fact should be preparing himself for a hard run that would be more adrenaline inducing than his sprint down to the lake last year.

Arthur at first didn't understand why they would be in the old- but then he shouted Merlin's beard and began sprinting out of sight, Harry hot on his heels.

Lily was too busy with her mouth hanging open to question why those courtrooms would be considered old? She'd press in on such Ministry changes later when she better understood what was being done to her son now?!

Shouting about how they should have been there five minutes ago!

"Th-they changed, how could they change the time and place without-" Remus was trying to stutter out a question, but Harry wasn't waiting for anyone to say anything, he was speed reading as if that would somehow make what they were hearing more understandable, but it was only confusing them all more.

They flew back through the corridors to several confused looks, and only came to a skidding halt back in front of the lifts where Mr. Weasley began pummeling the button to get them back an elevator.

'There must be a quicker way to get around that place,' James thought wildly to himself as he kept watching Harry look ready to pass out from stress any moment, was he even taking breaths?

All while muttering to himself that those courtrooms hadn't been used in years, what was going on, unless it was-

They were interrupted by the lift finally arriving, the only man being in there Bode who Arthur greeted distractedly and still smashing the button for it to close.

Lily was in such a tense and uneasy mood, she knew she'd have taken someone's head off by that point if she kept being stared at like that.

Every time it opened back up Arthur released a swear word and kept smashing on the button until finally it released on Level Nine, Department of Mysteries, with no add ons of what that could mean.

Harry gave such a gasp his jaw was left shaking slightly as he recoiled into the cushions, but he point blank refused to understand what that burning feeling rising in him was, too utterly focused on this courtroom and all it could mean for him, even if it didn't take much digging on his part to know just how untrue that was. There was something about this place, had been for ages, that had him leaning just that bit closer to Sirius now more than ever.

It opened onto a long black corridor that only seemed to have one door at the end, but as they went sprinting towards it, Harry expecting to go straight through, Arthur grabbed Harry's sleeve and jerked him down a side passage, nearly tumbling down the stairs until they reached a set of doors and found ten. Harry had the oppressed feeling of being back in Snape's dungeons the place was so dark and musty with only torches to light their way.

Sirius felt a wild noise escaping him that could have been a laugh, some irony somewhere in there of how much he hated Snape and those dungeons now being compared to something he could already feel a pulsing loathsome for of this place, and what he could already scent as a set up.

Mr. Weasley collapsed against the wall beside the door and ordered Harry to get in there, who tried to protest wasn't Arthur coming along?

He said he wasn't allowed, and wished Harry good luck. Harry's heart felt like it was going to hammer out of his chest as he pushed the door open.

Harry just sat there, gaping down at the pages below him while the others began furiously around him.

"Are you kidding me!" Lily thundered out first. "They really switched the times on you, for what? To make you look bad and show up late? Has someone really gone so petty they just wanted to trip you up?"

"I know you're not that naïve Lily," James had his eyes narrowed with absolute distaste at the book as he spoke calculatingly. "This isn't just some stupid prank someone was doing to him to make him look bad. No, this was a real attempt to undermine him, really strive home what those papers have been saying about him to someone."

"I know," Lily muttered in a quiet voice, she just didn't want to believe someone would do that to her baby, especially not the place she worked for.

Remus had several things he'd like to say, none of them in any way nice as he tried to picture the person responsible for doing this to Harry, but the only way to get that visual was by asking Harry, "you going to keep going? I'm ready for this nightmare to be over and you to walk back out of there giving them all the bird."

"Chapter was over," Harry muttered, though his fingers remained tensed around the books bindings, his eyes still unfocused with fear.

Sirius had to reach forward and tug hard to get it out of his grip, and only then did he look around at him and they completely misunderstood the shadow of fear that was still gripping him as he looked at Sirius passing the book to Remus for his turn.

#Harry Potter #fanfiction #reading the books #Ootp #HP #Marauders #Jilly #James Potter #remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Lily Potter

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cecilspeaks · 5 years

Text

146 - The Birthday of Lee Marvin (II)

Every evening’s disappointment is the next morning’s hope. I’m Lee Marvin. Welcome to my birthday.

[somber piano version of the theme song]

There is a dark planet of awesome size, lit by no sun. An invisible titan, all thick black forest and jagged mountains and deep, turbulent oceans. It is so far away, so desolate, so impossibly, terrifyingly dark. One day, we will go there.

Imagine the feeling of the ground beneath your feet on that planet. The soft cold grit of sand that once was rock, that once was mountains. You won’t be able to see the sand. You won’t be able to see anything except the faint glimmer of the stars. There’s always light somewhere, just not here.

What does it smell like on the planet, I wonder. The salt tang of invisible oceans. The bitter sap of ancient forest. I don’t think it smells of rot. I don’t think it smells of fire or a food. I think it smells empty like a home that you lived in for many years but have cleaned out and painted, and are standing in it for the last time and it is once again a stranger to you. I think it smells like that.

I’m Lee Marvin, actor of some note. It is my 30th birthday today. Every day is my 30th birthday and yet I do not age. This morning, on my birthday, I had a vision. I was walking and the ground became wet. Then the water rose up around my ankles, but I kept walking. Around me were the trunks of mighty trees, hundreds of feet around. The water felt cool, but the air was warm, so it was nice to walk through. And still the water rose, and I was waist deep now. I didn’t know where it was I was going toward or away from. There was a fierce bicker of birds somewhere far above. The water (roiled) [0:04:20], but I was not afraid, I just walked, waist deep in that water. Perhaps I walked forever.

My morning routine is like so. I wake up at 5 AM. I know this because my digital clock tells me in stark red against black. I’ve had the same clock for decades. All of the labels have worn off the buttons, I wouldn’t know how to set an alarm, but I don’t need to. Whenever I wake up, it’s 5 AM. Maybe my waking causes time to happen.

I have the same breakfast every morning. I don’t mean I have the same kind of breakfast, I mean it’s the same food. I know because the apple has a bruise shaped like a witch’s hat near the stem. It’s the same bruise, the same size the same shape every morning. When I pour the cereal, no matter for how long or short, it’s the exact same amount of Corn Flakes. I’ve counted them again and again. Even if I pour no cereal at all, if I refuse to touch the box, there is still the same number of Corn Flakes in the bowl. It’s the same breakfast, and I eat it again and again, to celebrate the morning of my 30th birthday.

We were not meant to last forever. There is no peace in eternity. What shapes all of this is the boundaries. The birth, the death, even the pain in the knees, the forgotten wallet. You are bounded and so within, you are bound-less-. Without boundaries, I have no shape, I have no pain in my knees, and so I forget I have them. I forget my body. That’s all. I just wanna remember my body.

There is a dark planet of awesome size, lit by no sun. Its orbit is wild, it serpentines through space. Even with the most powerful telescopes we would not be able to find it. But at some point, we will all see it, clear and plain as our own faces, in the blue of the sky. We will look up on a day where we had a dentist appointment, where we had to pick up the kids by 4, where the basketball game was on down at the bar, and there will be a planet of awesome size, lit by no sun. An invisible titan, all thick black forest and jagged mountains and deep, turbulent oceans.

The planet will be so close that you will be able to see details on its midnight surface. Are those cities that you see upon it? Vast and cavernous cities? Empty windows and empty rooms. No one built those cities, but they are there.

I’m Lee Marvin. I’ve always been Lee Marvin. It has always been my 30th birthday.

This afternoon, on my birthday, I had a vision. I was at a conference table in a conference room, in a building full of rooms exactly like that one. A place of business where money is not made but is procured from those who deserve it less. I wondered, if I searched those offices for all of my birthdays after, would I ever find an exist? But I did not search. I sat at the conference table. Across from me was an unsmiling man. His hands were folded in front of him on the table. I did not greet him, because I felt that we had already exchanged small talk and now it was time to get to the meat of it. But I didn’t know what the meat was. I didn’t know what he wanted from me. Neither of us said anything from either side of our conference table. The tinted window looked out over a parking lot, full of identical silver sedans.

My afternoon routine is like so. I put on my hat and I go into town. I do my shopping and say hello to the people I know and the people I don’t. There’s still somehow people I don’t know even after all this time. However much time it has been. They often wish me a happy birthday and I say thank you. But what I mean is, please don’t. Please, no more.

Sometimes there’s a party and I poke at the cake with the side of my fork. I go home with my groceries and I put them in the fridge, throwing out the identical groceries I’d bought the day before. Then I have an afternoon coffee out in the back yard, staring at my lawn which remains green and lush, even though the heat is intense this time of year, even though I have never in my life watered it.

Grass is like me. I spit a little coffee on the grass. Imagine having no shape, no form. Imagine a clumsy endlessness. Imagine me. Picture me.

In an emergency, it is recommended that you look for the nearest exit. That’s all I’m doing here, looking for the nearest exit.

There is a dark planet lit by no sun. An invisible titan, all thick black forest and jagged mountains and deep, turbulent oceans. I feel that I walked there once long ago. I know the bitter crunch of its lifeless soil. I know the ice fizz of the waves along its shores. I know the smooth glass of its mountainsides. The dark there is complete.

I wish I could take you by the hand, and together you and I could step onto its surface. We could know it the way one knows a home. We could find warmth in its absolute chill. We could make light in its total darkness. But that won’t happen. Because when we visit that planet, we each must visit it alone. But we can take comfort in those who have gone before, and those who will come after. There is a dark planet lit by no sun, and one day we will go there.

This evening on my birthday, I had a vision. I was climbing a chimney of rock. The rock sat tight around my shoulders. There was hardly room for my body. By wedging myself outward, I was able to make myself stable and then wiggle myself just a little bit higher and a little bit higher after that. I knew that my climb would last for the rest of my life, and that the rest of my life would last forever. And still I wiggled myself an inch at a time. Far above me was a dot of light. Pale orange of sunrise or sunset, it never changed. The sun was always setting or else it was always rising, and anyway I was far beneath, wiggling my way up a chimney of rock. Far below, I could see cave water, absolutely clear and impossible deep and brutally cold. If I wanted I could simply relax my body and fall through the rock into that cold and clean water. All I would need to do is relax for one second. But I didn’t. I kept climbing toward the sunrise or else the sunset.

My evening routine is like so. I listen to the radio to hear the news and nod thoughtfully at what the world is up to when I’m not involved. I take off my socks. I like how my feet feel against the carpet in my living room. Sometimes I hear a voice from the living room wall. The voice sounds like me. “There must be more than this,” the me in the wall says to the me in the chair. “I wish it were so,” I say to the me in the wall. “Could you, could you help me out here, I think I’m stuck?” says the me in the wall. And I shake my head sadly. If I could have helped myself, I would have already.

I don’t like to sleep, so I binge an old 90’s sitcom like “Five in the Pit” or “The Thin Man Commences”. I don’t fall asleep, I know I don’t. I count every hour until the next day. And yet I find myself waking again in my bed and it’s my 30th birthday. As it is always my 30th birthday.

If I’m not given a boundary, I will have to create a boundary for myself. I will have to be the inventor of my own end. Listen against a window. Do you hear the soft murmur of the weather outside?

[“Sicilian Crest” by The Mountain Goats, http://www.mountain-goats.com http://ionlylistentothemountaingoats.com]

I have lived a very long time. Perhaps longer than anyone. Hmh. And yet there is still so much I haven’t done. I’ve never been to Poland or Bolivia, or New Zealand or Svitz. I’ve never been to North Carolina or North Dakota or North Florida or Germany. I’ve never seen a giraffe in person. Or a boar. Or a praying mantis or an eagle. I’ve never been to space, I’ve never been in a come and I’ve never tasted kale or kimchi or lamb or (-) [0:20:37].

There are big things I’ve never done. I’ve never written a book or recorded an album. I’ve never built a house. Choosing the location and materials, laying down the foundation and constructing the framework upon it. Putting in insulation, installing drywall, getting permits from the city. I’ve never led an army over a mountain pass, saying to them: “Today we go down in history!” I’ve never gone down in history. I mean, most of us haven’t and most of us won’t, but me too I guess. I’ve never been to the dark part of the ocean floor where the sun can’t reach through the sheer liquid mass, and the strange creatures live whose beauty does not rely on our sense of beauty, because their existence does not rely on our sense of existence. Or the volcanic vents pump heat into the blue-black abyss. I’ve never been married, although I have been divorced. I’ve never sky dived or even been on a plane. I don’t know what flying feels like. I imagine it feels a little like dreaming and a lot like waiting.

There are small things that I’ve never done. I’ve never had a picnic. I’ve never made whole wheat pasta. I’ve never parallel parked or spent a few hours picking up litter from the side of the road. I’ve never pulled a weed. And I’ve never bought a hat. I’ve always owned this hat. I don’t remember where I got it. I’ve never driven any car but a Dodge Durango. I’ve never seen a single movie except “Forgetting Sarah Marshall”. No that new remake but the original 1960’s classic starring Frank Sinatra as every character. I can’t imagine any other movie being better, so I’ve never bothered.

Exotic things I’ve never done. I’ve never time traveled, although I do get the brochures in the mail each week like everyone else. I’ve never danced in the ballet. Huh, although I’ve daydreamed of it many times. I’ve never printed counterfeit money, nor ordered a hit on anyone, nor otherwise committed a crime. I’ve never been bitten by a vampire or by a werewolf or by a child.

Simple things I’ve never done. I’ve never mailed a letter. I’ve never owned a dishwasher. I don’t know what a sauna feels like. I’ve never been in a hot tub. I’ve never kept a flower in a vase, long after it was time to throw it away until it is the brown memory of a flower that once was. I’ve never done Pilates or yoga or Crossfit. I’ve never taken a run, although I’ve always owned running shoes.

My life, like all lives, is more of a list of “I never”s than “I have”s. Because the world is bigger than we can reach. Not even if we spend our entire lives reaching. We clear a little circle around ourselves. We sit in that circle, and that is our life. But it’s OK. I don’t have to do everything. I will leave an endless list of the “not done”s and the “meant to”s and the “should have”s, and that’s fine. After all, past performance is not a predictor of future results. After all, death is only the end if you think the story is about you. After all, after everything, after it’s over, what then?

Good night, Night Vale, Good night.

Today’s proverb: A group of Chihuahuas is called a committee. A group of Labradors is called a jumble. A group of Golden Retrievers is called a butter dish.

#welcome to night vale #welcome to night vale transcripts #episode 146 #the birthday of lee marvin

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tenacious-scripturient · 5 years

Text

a run-down of / my thoughts on the novel ‘trade secrets’

so! i’ve recently finished this beautifully written novel by @bettsican, and am anxiously anticipating for the second book in the trilogy! (seriously, give it a read. it’s a great lgbtq+ thriller and mystery story, i promise you’ll love it!! you can find trade secrets in many places, including amazon, where it’s only $6)

as i was reading it, i noted down all the thoughts i had. it was fun, interesting, and kept me on the edge of my seat!

oh, and spoiler warning, of course.

Chapter One

okay. this is interesting. why are they in paris? or rather, why are they NOT in paris?

2080. damn.

who is cooper hall and why is he important i want to knowwwwwwww

Chapter Two

HOLY FUCK

CHAPTER ONE WAS A PROLOGUE

OKAY IF I DIDNT NEED TO BEFORE I HAVE TO READ IT NOW

-ahem- anyway

nate literally everything you think of has to relate to smoking, doesnt it?

clyde you absolutely bitch raccoon

im sort of piecing together what’s happening here? either way this is a SUPER interesting concept.

i love the idea of every word being important

nate look at you being a nice guy. testing the CAPS before giving them to ur clients

or maybe it’s just good business

but whatever

okay, so credits are money in this world. but how do people get them? obviously there’s what nate’s doing but what’s the legal way to get them? ill probably find out soon

if it wasnt explicitly said by betty that nate ends up with another guy (i forget his name. cooper?) i would have thought audry was the romantic interest

audry you loving caring hypocrite

i feel like she’s gonna be one of my favourite characters

who is this young man that dares disturb nate’s slumber

cooper? cooper.

Chapter Three

nate get up

u turtle get up and hurry down the stairs

or—okay you can fall into that drywall that works too

ohhhhh so nate is a detective. that’s interesting

i also love this idea of keeping secrets (haha trade secrets)

dude are you sure that your embarrassing entrance wasn’t the ONLY reason you blushed? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

HEIGHT DIFFERENCE HEIGHT DIFFERENCE HEIGHT DIFFERENCE HEIGHT DIFFERENCE HEIGHT DIFFERENCE HEIGHT DIFFERENCE HEIGHT DIFFERENCE HEIG—

nate ur spending an awful lot of time looking at his features you funky little bisexual

oh damn ur smarter than u seem, just watching him take a single breath and you’re already making connections. i guess that’s why he’s a detective

im gonna assume this is cooper, even tho it never explicitly says so

i feel like we aren’t gonna get his name for a while, bc clients and whatnot and not getting attached

Chapter Four

NATE WEARS GLASSES???????

that’s kind of cute

im lowkey gay rn

anyway

NATE CALLED HIM SWEET-FACED AND PRETTY-FACED O K A Y

oh he has curly brown hair

and oh the glasses aren’t real glasses. oh. the use is actually pretty cool!

so from what im gathering civilians are people who don’t live in sanctuaries, and lemnis are people who do?

cooper sweetie why do u need so much money what have u done

nate’s pretty clever

HAH I WAS RIGHT WE AREN’T GONNA GET HIS NAME FOR A WHILE

well that’s that i guess

Chapter Five

he’s so timid awh

hehe he’s on nate’s bed

sorry

goddammit man calm down or else you’re gonna get everyone in a 5-mile radius around you arrested

wait…. zero-credit balance?? didn’t he just have a few hundred thousand credits???

OH THIS IS A FAKE PROFILE HE MADE

so cooper isn’t his real name either

Chapter Six

oh we’re back to 2080

oh they’re back in the apartment??

it was obvious before but at this point it’s confirmed that they’re going to be doing some travelling together or something

Chapter Seven

this is getting really interesting i dont wanna stop reading and type everything that comes to mind

these are gonna be shorter now hehe

“i’d been a petri dish of mixed emotions and wild chemical changes for half the day” I LOVE THAT METAPHOR LMFAO

what happened with nate’s mom

i want to know

my prediction: she wanted him to either change up or completely remove the chip bc she did something horrible? or maybe she just wanted to leave idk im bad at predictions

either way it said she was crazy

o h

that’s why he’s terrified of cutting the chip

poor nate

Chapter Eight

oh this is strangely intimate

very intimate

i feel that, because cooper has such high pain tolerance (or doesn’t show pain), he has some backstory for it

Chapter Nine

lmao nate just went off didnt he

THEIR FLIRTING IS CUTE FHJKJDLSKAJDKLSJAK

also is being lgbtq+ widely accepted as the norm in this setting? bc nate considered cooper to be flirting with him

ughhhh it’s so good so far, from the character interactions to the suspense, especially in this chapter

Chapter Ten

rude cooper is rude, rude nate is even more rude

F E D O R A

“coop”

Chapter Eleven

aw i love jimmy already—

WHAT THE FUCK COOPER

EXCUSE ME

JIMMY

WHAT

HOW COULD YOU

goddammit

what the fuck is cooper hiding

cooper oh my god

you

you’re playing a dangerous game, mate

are you really that heartless

“deceptively innocent eyes” you got that right

this chapter hurted

thanks a lot jess

Chapter Twelve

“like a weeping wound on the canvas of my home” this has got to be one of my favourite similes ever omg

the way nate’s describing cooper makes my heart hurt awh

i feel like butterflies have some sort of symbolism

maybe being ugly on the outside and beautiful on the inside, or vice versa? the vice versa was basically cooper lol

aye we finally get to meet audry!!

PEANUT BUTTER AND TRICYCLE I WANNA HEAR ABOUT THAT

i love audry omg

IT’S NATE’S BIRTHDAY?? HAPPY BIRTHDAY YA SMOKEY CONMAN

“bright eyes” is the cutest nickname ever

Chapter Thirteen

oh we’re back to 2080

wait what they’re trapped together

is this story gonna have a sad ending

please no

Chapter Fourteen

OH IT’S THE LINE ON THE COVER

i like that

nate’s back to where he left cooper

also if it wasn’t obvious before, it’s definitely obvious now that nate and cooper or gonna find each other again. hm. not sure how i feel about that

kind of pissed at cooper but also we need him for the story to progress

O H

COOPER IM ONLY KIND OF PISSED AT YOU NOW

IT MAKES SO MUCH SENSE

NATE IVE SAID IT BEFORE BUT YOU’RE PRETTY CLEVER

also who is ‘her’?

COOPER WANTS TO BECOME A?? LEMNIS?? GODDAMMIT MAN

I CAN FEEL THE PRESSURE RISING

nate’s in danger

wow this chapter is

a lot

i need a break

-cue a break-

Chapter Fifteen

i’m back

eisley is a cool last name

oh wait so even people outside of sanctuaries can become a lemniscate

i’m still not 100% sure what a lemniscate is

it’s so ironic elijah’s last name is king, but i assume you did that on purpose. i also like the slight nod to royalty by his first name

COOPER’S BACK

why hello there

Chapter Sixteen

they’re

competing

to become a lemniscate

and one of them dies

do they fight back?? is that why they end up in prison??? so many thoughts are going through my head right now

nate, your fantasy about becoming a lemniscate is surprisingly dark. i’m totally down for it

Chapter Seventeen

oh wait so joshua is cooper’s blackmailer?? Interesting that it’s a lemniscate

i keep forgetting nate is wearing glasses

cooper, my dude, calm the fuck down. you’re gonna get yourself and nate killed

it’s the return of soft™ nate

Chapter Eighteen

oh there’s another one

oh this is very ominous i don’t like

Chapter Nineteen – Twenty-One

okay i was eating while i read so i couldn’t type here but just know that these chapters were really really good

Chapter Twenty-Two

wait fuck what’s happening this is all happening so fast

cooper brought out his gun,,,, it’s aimed at ivonne,,,,,,, they’re walking,,,

OH IT WAS A FAKE KIDNAPPING

nice

i like ivonne a lot

Chapter Twenty-Three

the entire story just changed course

this isn’t just about cooper and nate anymore, it’s about a corrupt government

NATE AND COOPER ARE HOLDING HANDS AS THEY RUN THROUGH THE BARRIER THAT’S SO ROMANTIC

also the line “only the dead are ever truly free” is beautiful

THAT’S WHERE PARIS COMES IN

THEY ALL GO TO FRANCE DON’T THEY

I’m so curious to find out where this story is going

Chapter Twenty-Four

this is doin me a confusion

but tbh these hints/ visions of the future, if you could call them that, are giving just enough information to keep me super interested. props to you

Chapter Twenty-Five

AUDRY STOP TEASING NATE

just joking keep doing it, this might actually get their relationship somewhere

ivonne is definitely my favourite character so far. she reminds a little of melia from xenoblade chronicles, in that they’re both ‘royalty’ that rebel. also they’re badass and smart

oh fuck the brother is here

okay thank god he’s not an asshole

oh god things are happening again

Chapter Twenty-Six

nate stop ogling at cooper when you’re in a life-or-death situation

holy shit the lemniscate are messed up

this crew is pretty great, it sucks that it’s almost the end of the book

WAIT I FORGOT THERE’S A SECOND COMING SOON HECK YEAH

anyway

YES COOPER PULL THROUGH

awwww yiss

Chapter Twenty-Seven

O H

oh my god i ship them so hard

THEY KISSED

THIS IS SO STEAMY

this chapter was art thank you so much for this

Chapter Twenty-Eight

AHAHAH AUDRY

once again, i’d like to state how much i love her

oh the tension just grew twentyfold

this is… great

oh god nate what are you planning, you just got together with cooper and now you want to leave him?

Chapter Twenty-Nine

what’s with all the dancing?

Chapter Thirty

oh god the description

so he’s going around and giving people credits, all the while confessing things that would help the lemniscate track him down. i assume this means he’s going to die, but why?

just what are you planning?

oh we’re back to clyde, the guy who started it all. it feels full circle

Chapter Thirty-One

HE’S MAKING HIS CHIP SHOW THAT HE’S DEAD

that’s much smarter

FUCK

NATE YOU IDIOT—COOPER’S REAL NAME

SHIT NOW KING IS HERE

everything’s going downhill now isn’t it

Chapter Thirty-Two

wait that took an even darker turn

there’s so much happening right now i can’thandlethis

cooper and nate are couple goals

Chapter Thirty-Three

king isn’t as horrible as i thought

still horrible, but not a monster

NEVER MIND YOU’RE A FUCKING MONSTER WHAT IS THIS BS

cooper

actually

shot

nate

Chapter Thirty-Four

OH MY GOD

WHAT

THIS IS HOW YOU END IT

I CAN’T

HOW DARE YOU

i need the next book

like right now

what the hell

Final Thoughts

okay so this book was SO good, and so well written. like damn

aside from that horrible ending how could you do this to me

i’m joking, it was an incredible and emotional ending, i loved it and hated it at the same time

it very rarely felt static, and especially in the first half, there was a good mix of action and backstory/description. it was never boring

the story is just,,, so unique. i seriously haven’t read anything like it, EVER

the world-building?? Is?? so vast?? and insane??

the increasing tension and speed as the story progressed is perfect, i felt my heart beating faster the more i read

anyway that’s all from me

this book was amazing i cannot wait for the next

#writeblr #other writeblrs #trade secrets #phahbiyah speaks

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vestedbeauty · 3 years

Text

Guilty of People Pleasing? How to Stop (Even if This Is How You've Survived Until Now)

New Post has been published on https://vestedbeauty.com/guilty-of-people-pleasing-how-to-stop-even-if-this-is-how-youve-survived-until-now/

Guilty of People Pleasing? How to Stop (Even if This Is How You've Survived Until Now)

OK, so, it’s possible that my people pleasing way of life was just coded into me based on the stars and planets. I’m not personally really into astrology but a lot of people I love are. So, I’ve learned that I may be the Libra-est Libra who ever Libra’d. And apparently people pleasing is a thing for us.

But while I weigh that a bit (sorry, Libra joke), I’m going to go share my thoughts on this… trait? Flaw? Coping mechanism? Well, whatever category people pleasing falls into, let’s take a look.

It’s a Good Thing Puppies Are Cute

She’s nearly four now but Pickle has settled down a whole lot. (I’m currently working through a dog training course with her and the rest of the pack to see if we can end the jumping up on people nonsense.) When she was tiny, she did a pretty good impression of The Very Caterpillar. She ate through our slippers. She ate through our blankets. She even ate through the drywall in a couple of places.

“Pickle, it’s a good thing you’re cute,” we said, about a million times. And it’s true.

It’s the same with tiny humans. They smell bad. They cry and cry and cry. And they leave their parents exhausted to the point they can barely remember their own names. But on the deepest level there is, we bond with them to the point we’d give our lives to save them.

Still, it’s a good thing they’re cute.

In part, a baby’s cuteness is a way of people pleasing. We cannot function or even survive on our own. Our survival depends on our parents being willing to take care of us, even though we offer nothing in return.

Last One In Is a Rotten Egg!

Fast-forward a few years, and our world expands from our parents and immediate family outward to include friends, teachers, and a whole lot of people we’ve never met. Humans being humans, we start forming smaller groups.

Like it was programmed into us, we can get pretty ruthless as we sort through the crowd of humanity. Yes to this one, no to that one. We find best friends and second-best friends (remember that?), and we learn how to fit in.

But we also get some brutal lessons about living in kid society. We discover the pecking order, watching some kids rise to the top of the social order and others fall into a perilous place where they are practically untouchable.

The permanent rotten egg, the kid nobody seems to like – even enough to defend when human decency demands it. (I still think about some of the kids I grew up with who were socially brutalized, bullied, cast out. I hope they survived and healed, and while I’m glad I didn’t actively hurt them, I shamefully lacked the courage to befriend them.)

In this Lord of the Flies world, kids learn quickly how important it is to gather allies. Perhaps for the first time ever, they grasp the reality that if they piss people off, they will be shunned and thrust out into the cruel world on their own.

People pleasing becomes a survival mechanism. I believe that’s where it starts for many of us. We learn to walk, talk, and behave in ways that please our cohort enough to keep us safe.

Keep Your Hands and Feet Inside the Ride at All Times

It doesn’t take a genius to realize it’s crucial to fit into the box kid society draws for its members. Fit or face destruction.

So, we contort ourselves to fit. If some odd bit refuses to fold neatly into the box, we cut it off. Survival demands ruthlessness.

… Got a weird hobby? Not anymore.

… Have a weird freckle on the bottom of your foot? Shoes, forever.

… Freaky smart at some subject or another? No. Get a ‘B’ and live.

… Set your sights on a career that seems a little “extra”? Probably don’t talk about that anymore.

It’s not like that for everyone, of course. And there are pockets of welcoming hearts who’ll accept people as they are, thank goodness.

But I suspect this is when many people pleasers develop their modus operandi. People pleasing can look like:

Having a hard time saying no (or even wanting to)

Feeling gutted if someone’s displeased with you

Agreeing with what others decide because you know you can make anything work

Feeling like you’re responsible for other people’s emotions or experiences

Apologies… so many apologies… for everything

Conflict avoidance at any cost

A persistent craving for praise from others

Inability to admit or express “negative” emotions

Struggling to make decisions that impact other people

This nasty list makes sense when you understand that a people pleaser weighs the safety of every word, step, and choice. It makes even more sense when you realize they may have zero experience moving through the world in any other way.

When Enough Is Enough

As a young woman, I took all of this to the next level by choosing a very public life as a pastor’s wife for a couple of decades. Pairing my childhood fascination with Emily Post’s etiquette book with the deep desire to be a good example, I had that box’s contents under control. The stakes seemed to be of eternal significance, after all.

But I learned something huge, courtesy of one of many youth group outings that ended with dinner. It took decades for this lesson to register, but now I can’t unsee it.

“Kids don’t know diddly-squat about what’s good and what’s not good.”

Given the choice between filet mignon and a burger from McDonalds, pretty much every kid in every youth group we ran would choose the golden arches. I could rattle off a bunch of similar examples, but you get it. Discernment comes with age.

That’s why the nerd gets the girl… later in life. Once we can embrace our greatness, right in the face of a crowd that punishes outliers, we flourish. We can become who we were always meant to be. Not coincidentally, that’s when we also find deep personal fulfillment and a sense of finding and fulfilling our purpose.

Allowing some pre-pubescent ghost from decades gone by to dictate how you show up in the world just seems silly. That whole threat to expel you from society for not fitting in becomes laughable.

I mean, it’s not even a thing anymore, anyway.

Who, in the adult world, roams the halls of their home or workplace, shoving people into lockers? What adult taunts someone else about what they brought for lunch – or the fact that person dared to eat when people could see them? And what adult torments another adult for having a passionate interest in an offbeat hobby?

Ridiculous.

You’re Not the Boss of Me!

I’m half-obsessed with Scotland. Many of my family’s roots start there. I freaking love that place, the music, the terrain, the food, the whisky, the spirit of the people – it’s got my heart. Anderson there is like Smith or Jones in America. The Anderson crest reads “Stand Sure.”

Oh, the irony.

That hit me hard as 2020 came to a close. It was both the best and the worst motto I could imagine. These two words, I’d seen on a crest on the wall for as long as I could remember. But it wasn’t really for me.

Some people, as a new year approaches, choose a word for the new year to embody for them. I chose “Stand Sure.”

It felt dangerous. Like, I knew this was going to impact my whole “tread lightly” philosophy in life. I had absolutely zero ideas about how I’d possibly go about addressing my people pleasing. It was so ingrained in me, like when a surgeon refuses to cut out a brain tumor because the brain has grown around it. Or, like separating conjoined twins. This seemed like something I’d just have to live with forever.

MindFix Did the Impossible

I’ve done some woo-woo stuff along my personal development journey. That includes walking on fire, walking on broken glass, climbing redwood trees and jumping off (harnessed in!) to grab a trapeze, and SO many seminars. They all helped me grow. A lot. But during a long weekend in January, I got to work with the team at MindFix.

And it changed everything. But only in the areas where I’ve applied it so far (haha – only a few amazing, miraculous changes!)

Going in, I knew roughly that I wanted to work on this whole people pleasing thing. That’s it. I didn’t know how to even describe it. It felt embarrassing, vague, and permanent. In fact, we never actually discussed it directly. We worked on some other things. It wasn’t until a few weeks later that I noticed its absence.

I can’t even begin to explain how Erin and her team do what they do. I won’t even try.

But I can explain this…

I came to a realization that the SUPREME DIRECTIVE under which I’d lived most of my life… was proclaimed by a little kid. A little kid who’d choose a $.67 mass-produced burger over a delectable filet mignon.

You Don’t Know Nuthin’ about Nuthin’

That kid did her best to protect me. To her, safety depended on fitting into a box. Anything that didn’t quite fit should be bent or lopped off.

I’d outgrown her in every way. But I was still listening to her, so life apart from people pleasing felt dangerous. I still exhibited most of the symptoms above – and those behaviors were hurting me.

The work we did helped me go after this dragon and slay it. In realizing that kid version of me was just trying to help, but really didn’t know how, it opened a whole new possibility… just being me.

I could see evidence indicating it was safe to shut her down.

I have weird hobbies (drone flying, chicken raising, classic VW ogling, front yard gardening – just for starters). Nobody torments me over that. (I mean, can you imagine how insane that would be?)

My mate and I are flat-out weird (so much ink, in bed by 7, both creatives – and that list goes on). Nobody follows us, taunting us. (I mean, we did get called the perfect insult in the VW restoration world… Billy-Bob shade-tree Chip Foos wannabes – I can’t even tell you how many giggles I’ve had over that pejorative on our YouTube channel.)

Even my work life is strange (I’ve discovered that the way my brain operates is REALLY unusual. Some would see it as a huge plus; others would find it perplexing.)

And then there’s this one “flaw” that put me in danger of ostracism so much that I shut it down entirely… until I saw it differently and felt safe valuing it.

It’s my capacity to love, like geeking-out, human exclamation point levels of enthusiasm for certain people. (I always gathered that I was too sensitive, too excitable.) That one’s back in play big-time, and it adds incredible joy to my life. Like, one of my favorite things to do is to SEE someone’s greatness and then tell their story in a way that others see it, too.

If This Isn’t Irony…

So, “Stand Sure” is in play.

Undoubtedly, there’s still a little kid inside, desperately trying to keep me in line by pleasing people. But she sure seems quiet these days.

I did crack up, though, when a colleague mentioned that since the start of the year, I’d really started to own my own value. He continued, “I’m not seeing that people pleasing way you used to show up.” And that… that pleased me greatly.

Who knows what else is possible? The best is yet to come.

#people pleasing

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missingverse · 6 years

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Missing Chapter One

Missing

This is probably not one of my better ideas. I'm already midway through some other longform fics, and updates may be sporadic, but given that Arnold/Helga was one of my baby ships I'd like to give something to the fandom to tide us all over until the Jungle Movie.

Note: Although this is somewhat inspired by Anohana, it is a very different egg with some twists and turns planned. Enjoy!

…..

It should have been a healthy sixteen-year-old heterosexual boy's dream come true to wake up to find a girl sitting on your bed.

Not so much when that girl was a girl you hadn't seen for five years.

Not so much when that girl was a girl who nobody had seen in five years.

Definitely not when she looked just like she had on the posters and fliers and news reports, right down to her clothes (pink sundress, white sweater, pink ribbon in her hair, sneakers), the only difference being that the girl in those posters and fliers and news reports had been eleven years old, and the girl sitting on the end of Arnold's bed was around the same age he was.

It was unmistakably her. He would recognize those eyebrows anywhere.

“...Helga?” he just about managed to choke out.

She jumped, frowned down at him as if he'd done something wrong (and oh, something in him had missed that look) and made to step off the bed. Dimly he noticed she was wearing only one shoe.

“...what? You can see me? Now?” she growled.

“Of course I can see you....where have you....what....” he spluttered.

This has to be a dream.

“I've been here for weeks,” Helga groaned. “You didn't see me before?”

He reached out to her, and at the same time pinched himself. The pain barely registered because his hand sank through her arm to clutch at the bedspread under her.

Oh....well, he was definitely awake.

“That hasn't changed, then,” she said, tapping at his hand. His skin felt cold where she was touching him, like being touched by mist. It was a feeling he'd had before...he'd been looking for gaps in the drywall and the floorboards, for the source of that cold....well over five weeks....

“What are you doing here?” he managed to ask, his mind working furiously to make sense of this. Making sense of a girl who was missing, legally declared dead, suddenly popping up on his bed.

“I don't know,” she told him with a careless shrug. “I woke up here. And I can't seem to leave.”

“You can't...leave...?”

“I tried,” she continued. “I can't work the door, I keep sinking. I tried to get outside when the door was open, but I ended up back inside.”

It was all starting to make a crazy sort of sense. Of course she was a ghost. Everyone knew she was dead, even though she hadn't been found. But why would she end up haunting Arnold's house?

“I can't call you Football Head anymore,” she said, awfully casual for a dead person. “It almost looks normal. Too bad.”

Football Head.

He wanted to cry. It had been so long. But instead he laughed.

“You can call me Football Head if you want.”

…..

They worked out some facts in the most bizarre conversation Arnold had ever had.

Helga couldn't remember anything about the day she disappeared, or anything after that until she 'woke up' in Arnold's house. She had been wandering around the boarding house for five weeks, wondering why nobody would talk to her or acknowledge her. She figured out she was a ghost about two weeks in, after phasing through the walls trying to leave. She couldn't move anything with solid weight, didn't sleep, didn't eat. Didn't do anything but watch.

But now Arnold was able to see her, she said she felt more 'solid.' She could still phase through walls and couldn't open doors, but she could pick up small objects (pens, paper, socks etc.)

He brought her downstairs (it was still early, everyone else was still in bed) and he opened the front door for her, and she made it down to the end of the stoop before she had to stop.

“I can't go any further,” she said.

“Why not?” he whispered, looking around for anyone else on the street.

“I don't know,” she shrugged. “Just a feeling.”

“A feeling?”

“I've never been a ghost before, doy,” she scoffed. “How am I supposed to know anything?”

They went back inside. The boarding house was just starting to wake up. In another hour he was going to be leaving for school. He grabbed some oatmeal from the kitchen, took it upstairs with a hurried comment to his grandmother that he had homework to finish.

He brought up news articles on his PC for her to read about her case. About how she had left school on a Thursday evening, hadn't gone home, and hadn't gone to school the next day. About how the alarm hadn't been raised until Saturday when she missed Little League practice, and how her best friend had called the police but her parents hadn't. About how one of her sneakers had been found in a ditch 30 miles out of town.

He watched her skim articles and think-pieces and polls all about her case with a solemn, indifferent gaze. She had been cute at eleven, big eyebrows and all. Theories about what had happened to her were wild, sordid, sometimes ghoulish. He'd seen pictures of her digitally altered to how she would look at sixteen, but they had gotten some details wrong. She was beautiful at sixteen, dead or not. Or maybe he just thought that because he had missed her more than he ever thought he would.

“Who's this Lancie guy?” she asked suddenly, making him choke a little on his oatmeal. “His name keeps popping up...”

“He's an out-of-town suspect,” Arnold answered. “He was found with your bike. I think he was in jail before for something to do with girls...”

“Huh,” she said, scrolling down the page. “I don't remember having a bike....”

“It was Phoebe's,” he said. “She gave you her old one to help you get to Little League.”

“Oh yeah,” she smiled. “She covered it with those stickers....I got most of them off but those stupid butterflies...”

He grinned to himself. The butterflies on her bike had been used as a sort of unofficial logo for any discussions of her case. It was just like her to hate the thing everyone was using to identify her.

“Lots of results for Bob here,” she muttered. “They really think he did it?”

Yes. The general consensus was that Bob Pataki had murdered his daughter, in Hillwood anyway. He had been called in for questioning multiple times and though they couldn't prove he had done it, all the dirt that came out about him in the papers ruined any kind of reputation he could have had afterwards.

“What do you think? He's your dad, could he have done it?” he asked carefully.

She spun a little in the computer chair, thinking. How bitter to think that she couldn't immediately say no, her father could not and would not have killed her.

“It's possible,” she said at last, so casually it hurt Arnold to hear it. “Maybe not on purpose, but accidents happen....”

Over her shoulder the picture they had used in all the case files flickered on Arnold's PC screen. It was her school photo, she was smiling, her hair was tidy and her clothes were clean. But Arnold knew that there was much speculation about how few pictures they had gathered, how her family had almost none, and how a lot of the alternative photos had come from either the school or Phoebe. There were two floating around on the internet, on true crime websites. She had stitches on her head in one, a bad case of measles in the other. These were evidence that her family were neglectful at best, outright abusive at worst.

We all knew. All the kids, all the grown-ups. Nobody did anything until she was gone.

“Wonder why I didn't wake up at my house,” she mused, spinning in the chair. “You think Bob had something to do with that?”

“They don't live there anymore,” he told her.

“What? They moved?”

“Yeah, about six months after you went missing,” he explained.

They'd had their windows broken, doors smashed in, paint thrown at the house. Bob's store had been broken into and trashed. Arnold thought they might have even changed their names.

“Figures,” Helga huffed.

The chime on his phone, the one that told him it was time to leave the house for school, jingled on the desk.

“I gotta go,” he told her regretfully. “You'll be here when I get back, right?”

“I think so,” she said, clicking on another crime blog. “I'm not planning on going anywhere, anyways. Say hi to Phoebe for me.”

Biking down the hill, Arnold had time to think. Once upon a time he had dreaded going to school to deal with Helga G. Pataki. Then, he would have given anything to deal with her at school, to make things normal again. And now he wanted nothing more than to stay away from school to deal with her. It felt like something had clicked back into place.

…..

Arnold was something of a loner at school, nobody bothered him but nobody bothered with him either. Out of the corner of his eye, as he was taking books out of his locker, he spotted Gerald with his crew, lounging outside the door for Homeroom and passing comments on any girls that skittered past them.

How long has it been?

Their friendship hadn't disintegrated overnight, but shortly after Helga went missing Arnold had found he didn't like the person Gerald was becoming. They cut ties for good almost a year later, and they were coldly polite to each other in person. It helped that they didn't have many classes together, Arnold was top in pretty much everything and Gerald was flunking most of his.

Rhonda was sitting across from him as he took his seat in homeroom. She was furiously typing something on her phone, stroking her thumb across her jaw to blend some tiny flaw in her make-up. Her long elaborate nails clattered against the phone screen obnoxiously. How many words had she spoken to Arnold in the past few years? Probably less than ten.

As the bell rang, Phoebe hurried in, curled in on herself as she always was. She sat at the back, close to the door.

Say hi to Phoebe for me.

For the first time in a long, long time, Arnold really looked at Phoebe.

She had been interviewed on TV a few times during the search. America had warmed to this poor little girl who had lost her best friend, shaking and stumbling over her words as newscasters gently asked her about what they did together, about the bike she had given her, if she wanted to send her friend a message.

I WANT YOU TO COME HOME the headlines quoted in huge glaring letters, with the tear-flushed face of the little girl on the front page. I MISS YOU SO MUCH.

Then the story was old news, and Phoebe was largely forgotten by the media, except to bring up a point that she, as an eleven year old girl, had been the first person to alert police that Helga was missing. Sometimes whoever was writing the article or blog-post wondered how she was doing.

She wasn't doing well.

Her hair was long, stringy and unkempt. Her glasses were smudged, her skin pale and ashy-looking. She was buried under a shapeless wool sweater and leggings with holes at the knee. She might have still been pretty, under that lackluster appearance, if it wasn't for the air of pure misery that followed her around.

Arnold was a loner, but people still talked to him every now and then. People went out of their way not to talk to Phoebe. Ironically, she was more of a ghost than the actual ghost sitting in his room surfing the internet.

…..

He hurried home after school, half-afraid that the morning had been some hallucination, that Helga wouldn't be there.

She was.

Exactly where he had left her, in fact, and looking more alive than any dead person had a right to.

“That was quick,” she quipped, spinning in the chair and poking her one bare foot in his direction. “You say hi to Phoebe for me?”

“No,” he answered, tossing his bag onto the bed. “I thought it might make me look a bit....insane.”

“Fair point,” she agreed. “How is she?”

How could he tell her? When he knew she'd want to leave the house when she physically couldn't, to save her friend from drowning in her own unhappiness?

“She's....okay,” he lied.

#missing #hey arnold #hey arnold fanfiction #tw: crime

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helatherwhite · 5 years

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Are Mycotoxins Making You Sick?

What Are Mycotoxins? Today we're talking about these toxic byproducts of mold, what they are, where they come from, how they can affect your health, and what to do about them.

If you would have mentioned the word, mycotoxins” to me years ago, I wouldn’t have had a clue what you were talking about. However, over the past few years, I have had to learn what mycotoxins are because my life was turned upside down by them.

Mycotoxins damaged my health and they were the result of mold damage that we had in our house. We didn’t realize it at the time, but we were living in a moldy environment.

We couldn’t see mold in the livable space in our home, but it was in our attic. Mold exposure can cause a wide range of symptoms. However, it wasn’t until we moved out that I began to realize that mycotoxins were still impacting my health.

When we moved out of our old home, we took everything with us. Once we moved into our new home and started to unpack the items, I smelled a familiar smell…

I came to learn that mycotoxins travel. They especially like cloth and porous material.

Once in our new home, I began to feel better since I wasn’t living in the moldy environment, but I was frustrated because I wasn’t getting completely better. It was at that point that I finally realized it was the mycotoxins that were continuing to harm me.

I ultimately had to get rid of most of the items we had moved in from our old house.

So What Are Mycotoxins Anyway?

The term “mycotoxin” hasn’t been around very long and it isn’t very well known; however, it’s more common than most people realize.

Scientists coined the term in 1962 after a crisis resulting in the death of 100,000 turkeys in England. Their deaths were linked to a peanut meal contaminated with secondary metabolites from a fungal toxin. According to the US National Library of Medicine,

“mycotoxins are secondary metabolites produced by microfungi that are capable of causing disease and death in humans and other animals.”

However, they also mention that “mycotoxins are not only hard to define, they are also challenging to classify.”

In other words, mycotoxins are a toxic chemical that some molds produce. In fact, you know that “new car smell” or even the smell that dryer sheets leave on your clothes or that smell that comes from dryer vents that you can smell when you're out for a walk and pass by a home where they are doing laundry? Yuck–those are volatile organic compounds (VOCs). In fact, mycotoxins are VOCs as well. They are similar in structure to ketones, aldehydes, alcohols, and aromatic and aliphatic hydrocarbons. You can see more about the concerns about these components of artificial fragrances here.

Mycotoxins Are Dangers to Your Health

There are over 400 mycotoxins.

Some mycotoxins are mildly annoying, resulting in allergy-like symptoms, but others can make you very sick and even be life-threatening. (source) Diseases caused by exposures to mycotoxins is known as mycotoxicosis.

Everyone responds differently to them, making it hard both yourself and for medical professionals to diagnose what is going on with your body and whether it is related to mycotoxins or not.

Some people don't exhibit much, if any observable response to mycotoxins. The reason being is partly due to genetics.

A quarter of the population has a gene (HLA-DR) that makes them more susceptible to mold toxicity. People with this gene have “difficulty recovering from mold and other toxin exposures.”

This explains why two people living in the same moldy environment might react differently. In fact, that is how it was in our case.

I became extremely ill due to our mold exposure, while my husband only had minor symptoms that didn’t interfere with his daily life. Dr. Jill Carnahan is someone who sadly knows firsthand the impact that mold and mycotoxins can take on someone. She states,

when you’re made sick by mycotoxins you’re basically being poisoned. This is called mycotoxicosis.

The symptoms of mycotoxicosis differ depending on the type of mycotoxin you’re exposed to, how long you’re exposed to it, the amount of the exposure, and your personal attributes such as age, gender, and health.

She believes that mold and mycotoxins, along with other indoor air pollutants, may contribute to over 50% of her patient’s illnesses.

Mycotoxins can be acutely or chronically toxic–depending on the type of fungus and amount of exposure. They are fat soluble, so they can be stored in organs and tissue, resulting in mold toxicity and many serious health effects, including skin and lung infections.

Mold poisoning can also affect the liver, kidneys, and brain and the entire nervous system. Mycotoxins can also suppress the immune system and lead to death.

How Mycotoxins Get Into Your Body

Mycotoxins can enter your body through your digestive and respiratory system, and even through your skin.

It's not a pleasant thought, but mycotoxins can cause neurotoxicity impacting your brain. They can also damage your DNA and cause mitochondria (cell) dysfunction and suppress the immune system.

Mycotoxins in Food

Mycotoxins can be found in crops that have a long storage process, such as grains.

Some of the foods which they can be found in are:

corn

wheat

barley

oats

rice

peanuts

coffee

cereals

grain-fed meat

When it comes to food, Dave Asprey, who has also been negatively impacted by mold and mycotoxins states,

between soil-destroying pesticides and abhorrent factory farming practices, the US has the most severe mycotoxin problem of any country.

What he means is that our soil has been so badly depleted by modern farming techniques, that the “bad guys”, including mycotoxins, are unable to be kept in check by the good microbes in the soil, leading to a proliferation of toxic components in the food that you eat on a daily basis.

It makes sense that if you’re dealing with mold and mycotoxins, you should consult with a physician who understands mold toxicity and consider following a low mold diet.

Mycotoxins in the Air

It is estimated that over 50% of buildings in the US have water damage. You can see evidence of this everywhere–water stains on the ceiling, stains on the carpet, water dripping from ceilings, warped floors peeling paint. These aren't all definite signs of mold but they should be investigated.

And when you spill something wet on a carpet, even though you mop it up quickly, the moisture seeps through to the padding and gets trapped there, leading to mold. It only takes 48 hours for the mold to start growing–and then the mycotoxin damage begins.

Since modern houses are more tightly constructed, the toxins can build up more quickly. Additionally, modern houses in most countries are made with drywall, which is a great breeding ground for mold once it is wet.

Mycotoxins Through Your Skin

Mycotoxins can also enter the body through the skin, but this is a less common issue unless your skin is in regular contact with a source (think moldy clothing or a moldy body lotion, for example).

This post may contain affiliate links from which I will earn a commission.

Testing for Mycotoxins

There are a few different ways you can test for mycotoxins in your system. One of the ways they can be measured is in your urine. You can have a complete panel of urinary mycotoxins run through Real Time Labs or Great Plains Labs. There are also blood tests which can help pinpoint if you are experiencing health challenges due to these toxins.

Another great company is Life Extension. They are very reputable and they have a mold toxicity test, plus a wide range of supplements that are highly regarded around the world. Just use this link and search for “Mold Illness Panel” and you can see the tests that they offer.

How to Address Mycotoxin Exposure

Test Your Home for Mold

If you have health challenges which doctors are unable to explain, I would highly recommend checking your indoor air environment. Test for mold.

If you know you have been exposed to mold, the best thing is to get out of that environment, do what you can to remediate the problem, and then work on preventing future mold exposure while you work on your health.

For Mold Testing helps please visit this post on Andrea Fabry's Mold Story.

Work with a Practitioner Who “Gets” Mold

In addition to removing yourself from the environment, you will need to get the toxins out of your body. There are different protocols which can assist with removing the toxins from your body.

I highly recommend working with a healthcare professional whenever you try to detox. Detoxification is typically considered to be a good thing, but if your body isn’t healthy enough to detox, it can create problems. Think about it–if you can't get rid of the toxins, but you are mobilizing them (moving them around) in your body, they can end up circulating and going to places where you don't want them (think brain or other organs), or just overall making you feel worse.

Regardless, when you detox you will want to really support your detoxification system to avoid Herxheimer reactions as much as possible. To see more about this topic, you can read this post on Herxheimer reactions from candida.

Binders, such as activated charcoal and bentonite clay, which can help you bind the toxins to get them out of your body. You will also need to treat infections that come as a result of the exposure.

If you or a loved one you know suspect that you’re being impacted by mold or mycotoxins, I highly recommend seeing a functional medicine doctor who is familiar with mold illness, or another professional who is familiar with environmental illness. They can diagnose the situation and help put you back on the road to improved health.

Help for Mold Toxicity

The following book is written by one of the most well-respected mycotoxin experts in the world. It's worth considering as a resource when dealing with mold illness.

I hope this post has helped you to realize how much of a problem mold and mycotoxins can be and that you can use this information to improve the health of yourself, your family, and your loved ones.

Did you know about Mycotoxins before reading this post? Have you suffered from reactions to mycotoxins?

The post Are Mycotoxins Making You Sick? appeared first on Whole New Mom.

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yesterdaysdreams · 6 years

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Mandi’s Kitchen Renovation Reveal

Last April, I had the amazing experience of selling our old home just seven days after getting the crazy idea that we should move to a new house. Finding a mint mid-century home with a sunken conversation pit—in your price range—will do that to a girl! To say it was a whirlwind week would be an understatement! I remember feeling heartbroken the night we signed papers with the buyer because we discovered the dream home which launched this crazy scheme was already under contract with another buyer. But man, was I excited that we had just sold our house so quickly! … And of course I was also a little worried about being homeless and living with my parents indefinitely.

I sat at my computer scrolling through the many homes I’d seen and checked out before. Nice. But lots of work. Or else absolutely perfect, but too much money. Finally, out of desperation, I clicked on an odd looking ’80s home I’d scrolled past lots of times, and was surprised when the wheels in my head starting turning. Nay, spinning! I couldn’t stop looking at this kitchen, imagining all of the things I could fairly easily change. I was intrigued and booked an appointment to view the home the next day.

After viewing the house, we were surprised at how perfectly it fit all of our family’s peculiar needs, so we made an offer, and I went back to the house to take measurements to put on AutoCAD after our offer was accepted. Yes, I am the psycho who had detailed drawings, to-scale plans, and budget sheets made up before we even closed on the house! I thought it would be fun to show you the initial kitchen drawing I made back then, and if you’re curious, you can see more of my kitchen plans and process on my blog here, here, here, and here.

Surprisingly, not many details changed from the ideas that had popped into my head that night that I viewed the home online for the first time. For budget reasons, I wanted to reuse as much from the original kitchen as possible, and because I was not a fan of the oak raised panel cabinetry, painting the cabinets white would allow them to fade to the background and not make much of a design statement. I also wanted to make the space feel much airier, so I decided to remove all of the upper cabinets completely, and only replace them with a single row of open shelving. As far as storage goes, I had plenty of cabinets left in the island and below the countertops (the lazy susan in the corner is amazing!). The cabinet I built above the fridge as well as the wall of shelving gave me the rest of the storage I needed. (Oh, and there’s a pantry closet behind the shelving wall.)

Because most of the kitchen would be white, I wanted to make sure there were plenty of texturally interesting things, but not in a cluttered way. The wide-open wall above the cabinets was the perfect place to add texture! I covered it completely with wide subway tiles, choosing a stackbond pattern to feel more contemporary than your average white subway tile wall. I agonized over what grout color to use and am really happy with the TEC Silverado grout, because it adds definition between the tiles without too much contrast. There’s also a lot of texture thanks to my open shelving. Everything on the shelves is white or glass, so the shelving doesn’t feel cluttered, yet there’s still interest there. All of the clean white is juxtaposed with some rustic wood elements, like the huge wall of shelving I built, and a vintage spice rack that repeats the style of the shelving wall. A wooden butcherblock countertop from Lumber Liquidators, wooden cabinet knobs, wooden stools, and wicker baskets all work together to add warmth, balancing out the stark coldness of white everywhere.

Literally the day we closed on the house, Phil and I began demo! I pulled out all of the carpet on the first floor, and for a date night, Phil and I busted out and removed all of the tile from the kitchen and hallway. Talk about romantic! Then my dad helped take off the old countertop and separate all of the cabinets. We reconfigured them so we could move the stove to a different wall, making more space for a main dining area in the eat-in kitchen. (We are using the formal dining room as a play room.)

Once everything was cleaned out, and the cabinets were positioned, it was so exciting to rebuild! My favorite project that I took on by myself was the shelving wall. I may add some rustic doors to parts of this shelving wall in the days to come, but I sure do love having easy access to dry goods and snacks, plus, who am I kidding? I love stuff, and these shelves let me rearrange my stuff in fun ways with each change of seasons.

The most exciting day of the rebuilding has to be the day my new stove was installed! I had only ever dreamed of owning such a beauty—six burners, dual-heat steam oven … forget about it. I love all of our new appliances, but this stove makes it easier for me to get out of bed in the morning. (Especially if I have ingredients for pancakes, bacon, and eggs in the fridge!) I still pinch myself every day I get to use this bad boy. I also am so glad we moved its location to this other wall. Our old stove was electric, so we had to run gas lines anyway, we may as well move the stove to a more convenient spot. Rerouting the exhaust vent wasn’t bad because the joists in the ceiling happened to run parallel with the stove wall. We plugged up the hole from the old vent with ventilation and covered it on the inside with drywall and tile, and covered the hole on the exterior with a metal plate and silicon until we’re able to patch the siding.

People often ask about the jars I use to store my food. They are Le Parfait brand, and you can find them lots of places online, but I’ve also had luck finding them at discount home stores such as Marshalls and HomeGoods. I used to have labels on every jar, but now I only have them on certain necessary ones that are easily mixed up. (Once I tried to make frosting using baking soda instead of powdered sugar!) I’m frequently moving the contents of a barely filled jar into a smaller one to free up the big jars, so things get shuffled around and labels just get to be annoying in that instance.

My girls and I begin every morning at the kitchen island. I sip coffee and answer their crazy questions while they usually eat eggs and toast or fruit and yogurt. We usually have lunch at the counter, too, but dinners happen at the round antique table that I scored on Craigslist. It has three leaves, so we can make it bigger for when we’re hosting friends and family, but most of the time it stays small like this.

I carried the traditional-rustic-meets-minimal-modern vibes to the dining area where I use the antique table alongside these elegant Lippa chairs from LexMod. The vintage booster seat gives this spot the perfect mix of old and new.

I sort of freaked out with excitement when I found this beautiful chandelier from Hinkley Lighting, because it so perfectly mixes a variety of styles I love: Bauhaus-inspired shiny chrome, funky ’70s curves and globe shapes, understated elegance that feels a bit traditional … Oh, and the clincher was that there were matching pendants perfectly sized for our kitchen island!

I can’t believe I’ve come this far without acknowledging my pink sink. I chose most of the materials because their were inexpensive and because they were safe enough that I knew I’d be happy with them for years to come. But I had to have a little fun somewhere! That’s where the pink sink comes in. This is an acrylic sink by Thermocast which is undermounted beneath our white Corian counters for the perfect pop of pink. I use a tray in the bottom of the sink to keep it from getting scratched up, but also to conveniently rinse dishes when things get piled up.With all of the new materials, I hadn’t considered how junky our old outlets and switches would be until I saw them alongside the new white walls and tile. Ugh. Details matter! So we installed new paddle switches, universal dimmers, and outlets from the Legrand Radiant line. The screwless wall plates are the perfect finishing touch and just fade to the background, letting my design choices take center stage. We also installed outlets with built-in nightlights in our halls and pathways, so we can easily sneak into the kitchen for midnight snacks!

Choosing a shade of white for our walls was a little stressful (even though I wrote an entire blog post about choosing white paint!), but I’m happy with Benjamin Moore’s Super White in our kitchen. It’s a particularly tricky space because there are a lot of white I don’t have control over, shade-wise, like our KitchenAid appliances, the dining chairs, the tiles, and to some extent, the countertops. Super White ended up being the perfect neutral white for this environment (not cool or warm) that felt very bright, but not as stark as untinted white would feel. It feels bright, crisp, and modern— perfectly at peace with the other white elements in the kitchen.

If you’d like to check out some of my older posts that chronicle my kitchen planning and process, I’ve listed them out for you below. You can also see a list of products and materials I used at the end of this post! If you have any questions, I’m more than happy to talk shop in the comments section.

New Kitchen Plans

Kitchen Progress: Halfway There

DIY Modern Hood Vent Cover

Painting Cabinets with Chalk Paint – Pros + Cons

Kitchen Progress: Appliances + Finish Details

DIY Wood Shelving Wall

Kitchen Progress: Adding the Final Details

Thanks so much for following along on this adventure! This has been the biggest home reno undertaking I’ve attempted, and I’m really happy with the results. Now I can’t wait to get started on some other rooms in our house! –Mandi

Materials and Products:

Wall paint: Benjamin Moore’s Super White Cabinet paint: Annie Sloan’s Pure White (not on hood vent or refrigerator cabinet) Wall tile: Home Depot Tile grout: TEC Silverado Pink sink: Thermocast Faucet: Kraus from Home Depot Island butcher block: Lumber Liquidators sealed with Waterlox Flooring: Lumber Liquidators maple engineered wood Knobs: eBay Stove: KitchenAid from Home Depot Hood vent: Whirlpool from Home Depot with DIY cover Dishwasher: KitchenAid from Home Depot Refrigerator: KitchenAid from HomeDepot Coffee maker: KitchenAid Bar stools: Sold out at Target— similar here Dining chairs: LexMod Art: Milton Avery reproduction Round lidded baskets on shelving wall: Xinh & Co Kitchen radio: TEAC Lighting: Hinkley Congress collection Food storage jars: Le Parfait Bread boxes: Amazon – small and large Rug, spice rack, utensil crocks, dining table, booster seat, various pottery: vintage

Credits // Author and Photography: Mandi Johnson. Photos edited with A Color Story Desktop.

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