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greenbagjosh · 10 months

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Sunday 2 August 1998 - yummy eggs with bell peppers - paprika market near Nyugati pu, apartment blocks near Köbánya Kispest and Yugos you never saw before - long train ride home to M-Ostbahnhof and tribute to FM4′s Julia Barnes

Sunday 2 August 1998

Hi everyone, jó reggelt and dobré ráno

In spite of the noisy roommates, I hope you slept well. Today will include a long train ride home, but first a north-south journey with an unforgettable breakfast at a cafe. We make it home about 9:30 PM.

The summary of the day for those who may not have time to read everything - around 5:45 AM wake up because the sun rises earlier in Hungary than in Germany - took shower, got dressed and checked out of hostel. See Trabants, Wartburgs and 4-door Yugos along the way - went to Ferenciek Tere, bought a napijegy for the metro, xfrd at Déak Tér for Keleti pályaudvar - left clothes bag at left luggage, mark my Eurail pass with 02 08, leaving two more spaces - took trolleybus to Nyugati Pályaudvar, strolled around the open market, lots of peppers to admire - breakfast at Mephisto Cafe, with excellent Hungarian egg scramble and best coffee in Europe - metro M3 south to Köbánya Kispest, and to Határ út with tram to Lehel utca - last tram ride along the Danube, 12:30 departure for Vienna and München - cross into Austria after Hegyeshalom and Nickelsdorf - train reverse about 3:30 PM at Vienna Westbahnhof, five more hours until München Ostbahnhof - local U-Bahn trains and bus to home via Max-Weber-Platz and Arabellapark - and hear complaints from roommates about the alarm clock in my room ?? - at least I made it back. Well that was all for a Sunday in Central Europe. Let's have some more fun in Budapest before getting on a train for about eight hours. (in comparison with the last two days, the prose is much shorter for today)

On Sunday 2nd August 1998, it was a sunny day for the most part. Due to Hungary's eastern position in the Central European +1 (+2 in summer) time zone, and being in the same zone as Paris and München, the sun rose earlier than in Germany or even France or Spain. Even with the noisy roommates, I woke up about 5:45 AM. The hostel did not offer breakfast as the cafeteria was shut for the summer. So I had to find somewhere else for breakfast. I took a shower in the men's dorm shower area, got dressed and checked out of the hostel. I needed a place to put my clothes bag as I did not want to carry it around all day.

Walking to the Ferenciek Tere metro station, I thought to myself I could properly pronounce the word "napijegy" properly. Along the way I saw a few Trabants, Wartburgs and even a 4-door Yugo. Most people in the USA would likely only know of the 3-door hatchback, but Zastava also made a 4-door sedan version as well. It is only logical that the Yugos would be present in Hungary since it shares a border with the then-Yugoslavia.

Once I entered the Ferenciek Tere station, I went to the ticket counter and bought my napijegy. This time the ticket seller understood what I needed, and gave me a napijegy for 2nd August. Then I went on to Keleti pályaudvar, changing at Déak Tér. At Keleti, the baggage handler could speak some English and asked for 600 Forint to watch my bag. He gave me a claim ticket for when I wanted to get the bag back. After Keleti, I went on a trolley bus northwards to somewhere outside of Nyugati Pályaudvar. Nyugati is only a commuter rail station. To the north is a shopping center, but what I found interesting, was to the east of Nyugati, was a farmer's market. Almost half of the produce sold was actually paprika. Some red, some green but mostly yellow. Paprika is probably the most recognizable vegetables from Hungary. Photos of the paprikas can be found in the "Rechtschreibreform" album, towards the end.

I took the M-3 to Déak Tér to find a place to eat breakfast. There was one place close to Vörösmarty Tér on the Váci utca, called the Mephisto Cafe. The place looked inviting, and I sat at an outside table. The servers offered me coffee, and it was the Segafredo coffee that I had on Friday, but with milk and sugar. I looked in the menu and chose a scrambled eggs and vegetables plate. The eggs were scrambled with ham and red peppers, and came with cucumbers and tomatoes. It was probably the best egg dish I had in a long time. I stayed about an hour, until it was time to get up. I asked, in Hungarian, to pay the bill, without reverting to either German or English, trying to make use of the phrasebook. I think breakfast cost 1,100 Forint with coffee, very reasonable.

I wanted to see the south of Budapest, namely in the Kispest. Taking the M-3 to Köbánya-Kispest, I passed by Határ út which I would transfer to the tram with. But at Köbánya-Kispest, it was a surface station where I could see the metro car in daylight. At Köbánya Kispest, it is a transfer station to the suburban railway that goes to the airport among other places southeast of Budapest. Going back to Határ út, it seemed more interesting than many of the other stations towards Klinikák and further to Déak Tér and Újpest. At Határ út, I took a tram line 42 to Hungária út, where there was a Spar grocery store, open on Sunday. In Hungary, the grocery stores are called "ABC-bolt". I bought some bread, some cheese similar to provolone, and spicy salami. And also an herbal drink similar to the Almdudler that you can get all across Austria. Going back to the tram stop, there were a few 4-door Yugos to be seen and here and there also a Trabant.

I felt there was one last thing to do, it was 11:15 AM and I still wanted to go up and down the Danube one last time. So I went to Kálvin Tér on the M-3 and boarded a line 2 tram at the nearby Fovám tér stop, and made it as far south as Boráros tér where the H-7 train departs from. It was a sunny day so the view across the Danube was excellent, though it was hot in the tram. I had to be sure that I would have enough time to get to Keleti, to catch the train, so I went back and alighted at Vigadó tér, walked to Vörösmarty tér, transferred to the M-2 at Déak tér, and went the three stops over. I had fifteen minutes to get the clothes bag and board the train. I made good time, was on the train about 12:10 AM before it left. Turning on the radio I heard a Cliff Richard song from the early 1960s, I think "Summer Holiday", then the train conductor made an announcement in Hungarian, German and English. I understood his German and English well enough. When he came around to check my ticket, I showed him my passport with the ticket and he said Thank-You in English. I had for about three hours, the entire six-person compartment in first class, all to myself. So I could just sit back, watch the scenery and listen to the radio.

The train made a counterclockwise turn before heading left towards Tatabánya and Gyor. It would be about a half hour before being able to pretend that I was also in ???? Slovakia, as Tata up to Hegyeshalom is within five miles of the Slovak border. It's like being in a bilingual corridor. About 2:15 PM the train arrived at Hegyeshalom. ???????????? ????The Hungarian border guards checked passports and gave me an exit stamp. Also the MÁV locomotive was swapped for an ÖBB locomotive. About 2:30 PM the train pulled into Nickelsdorf and entered Austria. I received an entry stamp. I think about this area, between here and Bruck an der Leitha, it is the limit of the Hungarian and to some degree, also the Slovak radio reception area. But it was also the beginning of Blue Danube Radio's range, as at 2:55 PM I was able to receive that station, and hear "Fantasy Love" by Stanley Clark. I switched to an Austrian station, namely Radio Niederösterreich, and they were playing the last two minutes of Juliane Wehrding's "Sehnsucht ist unheilbar" before the news. Still the Lassing Mine Disaster was newsworthy, but not much progress from two days ago had happened. After the news I switched the radio to Hit Radio Ö3, heard the latest Top 40 countdown, I heard "I'm still waiting" by Sasha, "No tengo dinero" by Los Umbrellos, "Laura non c'è" by Nek, "High" by the Lighthouse Family, "Lucky for you" by Espen Lind, and "Dream Lover" by Mariah Carey. Yes that was considered proper music in 1998. They were also doing a contest to win a million ATS, which is hardly more than $80k US at those exchange rates.

They did a cute Grimm fairy tale sketch that went like "Oh schreck, eine ganze Million ist 'weck'" "Gille-gille, am Montag gibts nochma a Mille" "eine Million, das wäre die Sommersensation!" and all these years later I still have it on tape.

At 3:25 PM the train reached Vienna Westbahnhof, where it would switch directions. And all good things had to come to an end, no more compartment to myself. A young man in his mid 20s also entered my compartment with his backpack on a similar adventure to my own. We did not speak much. I turned the radio from "Stranded" by Lutricia McNeal on Hit Radio Ö3 to Blue Danube, and it was playing more jazz, for example "Don't say it's over" by Randy Crawford, and then the news was read in English, read by Julia Barnes (sadly she passed away in May 2017, as per https://fm4.orf.at/stories/2845462/). There was not much news to mention about the mine disaster that was not already said in other similar Austrian media. She mentioned there was a war going on in the Kosovo. She mentioned that Hakkinen finished first in the Formel 1 with a McLaren. I think she did the news very well. Hopefully this is a nice tribute to Ms Barnes who I remember reading the news in English at 3:30 PM on Sunday 2nd August 1998.

About 3:40 the train left Vienna for St Pölten, Linz, Salzburg and München. About 4 PM I listened to one more news report, pretty much the same so it got a bit boring, so music was more of a highlight. One classic song I heard was "Dedicated follower of fashion" by The Kinks. About 4:05 PM I thought it would be a good time to take a nap, the compartment air conditioning was cooling much better by then and I did not drink much of the herbal drink compared to the time before I crossed from Hungary to Austria. ?????????????????????? (no meaningful customs formalities carried out b/w AT and DE) The crossing from Salzburg to Freilassing about 6:30 PM went uneventfully other than the conductor checking that the 02 and 08 in my ticket were still as they were. The train arrived in München Ostbahnhof about 8:10 PM, and I could alight there, transfer to the U-5, then to a U-4 at Max Weber Platz, bus 37 for home at Arabellapark. Well I thought I was safe and sound, at 8:45 PM when I got home, but .....

The roommates were not particularly happy. They let me know, that my radio went off both Saturday and Sunday at the usual time when they wanted to sleep in. And the next time I leave for the weekend, to be very sure, and I mean, very sure, that I turn off the alarm, before I leave. It was a moment of humility. I would go to sleep and make it to work the next morning and have stories to tell. And soon enough I would be on good terms with the roommates once again.

So what happened after this? The following week of this story? What world event(s) would occur, that would be on every newspaper by Friday the 7th August 1998? ???????? ?????? How would it even affect the USA? And what were the names of scorn for years to come, after that? And what did I do a few days later, to get away from it all? (I needed to). Well, you will just have to tune in by Friday the 7th August 1998 to Sunday the 9th August 1998.

Hope you had fun on the weekend of 31 July to 2nd August 1998. Alles Gute und schönen Abend noch!

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newstfionline · 1 year

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Monday, January 9, 2023

Animal Sedative Mixed With Fentanyl Brings Fresh Horror to U.S. Drug Zones (NYT) Over a matter of weeks, Tracey McCann watched in horror as the bruises she was accustomed to getting from injecting fentanyl began hardening into an armor of crusty, blackened tissue. Something must have gotten into the supply. Switching corner dealers didn’t help. People were saying that everyone’s dope was being cut with something that was causing gruesome, painful wounds. “I’d wake up in the morning crying because my arms were dying,” Ms. McCann, 39, said. In her shattered Philadelphia neighborhood, and increasingly in drug hot zones around the country, an animal tranquilizer called xylazine—known by street names like “tranq,” “tranq dope” and “zombie drug”—is being used to bulk up illicit fentanyl, making its impact even more devastating. Xylazine causes wounds that erupt with a scaly dead tissue called eschar; untreated, they can lead to amputation. It induces a blackout stupor for hours, rendering users vulnerable to rape and robbery. When people come to, the high from the fentanyl has long since faded and they immediately crave more. Because xylazine is a sedative and not an opioid, it resists standard opioid overdose reversal treatments. More than 90 percent of Philadelphia’s lab-tested dope samples were positive for xylazine, according to the most recent data.

Subway train collision in Mexico City kills 1, injures 57 (AP) Two subway trains collided between two stations Saturday in Mexico City, killing at least one person and injuring 41, authorities said. Mayor Claudia Sheinbaum said on her Twitter account that the accident happened on Line 3 of the capital’s Metro system, without specifying the cause of the crash between the Potrero and La Raza stations. Sheinbaum said one woman was killed and 57 people injured, who were taken to seven hospitals. Four people were trapped in the wreckage for a time, including one train driver, who was reported in serious condition. Late in the afternoon, the mayor said 26 of the injured had been released. The Mexico City subway system has 226.5 kilometers (141 miles) of track and 195 stations. It serves an average of 4.6 million passengers every day.

Brazil authorities seek to punish pro-Bolsonaro rioters (AP) Brazilian authorities were picking up pieces and investigating Monday after thousands of ex-President Jair Bolsonaro’s supporters stormed Congress, the Supreme Court and presidential palace, then trashed the nation’s highest seats of power. The protesters were seeking military intervention to either restore the far-right Bolsonaro to power or oust the newly inaugurated leftist Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva in scenes of chaos and destruction reminiscent of the Jan. 6, 2021, insurrection at the U.S. Capitol. Rioters donning the green and yellow of the national flag on Sunday broke windows, toppled furniture, hurled computers and printers to the ground. They punctured a massive Emiliano Di Cavalcanti painting in five places, overturned the U-shaped table at which Supreme Court justices convene, ripped a door off one justice’s office and vandalized an iconic statue outside the court. The monumental buildings’ interiors were left in states of ruin. Justice Minister Flávio Dino said the acts amounted to terrorism and coup-mongering and that authorities have begun tracking those who paid for the buses that transported protesters to the capital.

Snow is a no-show as Europe feels the winter heat (AP) Mild weather has left many regions of Europe that would normally be blanketed in snow at this time of year bare, and winter sports resorts are fearing for the future. Many are using snow machines to make artificial pistes, leaving thin white lines snaking through otherwise green and brown landscapes. In the Swiss village of Adelboden, organizers of Saturday’s ski World Cup race grappled with above-freezing temperatures to ensure athletes could compete in the popular event while spectators basked in the blazing sunshine. The impact is likely to be felt far beyond the regional tourist industry. Winter snow in European mountains such as the Alps is an important natural water store for parts of a continent that’s already suffering regular droughts the rest of the year.

Macron presses ahead with pension reform as French discontent swells (Reuters) French President Emmanuel Macron’s government attempts to revive his economic reform drive and score a major political victory this week with a launch of the pension system’s overhaul in the face of vehement trade union opposition. Prime Minister Elisabeth Borne is to detail on Tuesday plans to make the French work longer, most likely by raising the retirement age to 64 or 65 from 62 currently. With one of the lowest retirement ages in the industrialised world, France also spends more than most other countries on pensions at nearly 14% of economic output, according to the Organisation for Economic Cooperation and Development. Pension reform in France, where the right to retire on a full pension at 62 is deeply cherished, is always a highly sensitive issue and even more so now with social discontent mounting over the surging cost of living.

Moscow ends self-proclaimed ceasefire, vows to press ahead in Ukraine (Reuters) Russia’s bombing of regions in eastern Ukraine killed at least two people overnight, local officials said on Sunday, after Moscow ended a self-declared Christmas ceasefire and vowed to push on with combat until it reaches a victory over its neighbour. President Vladimir Putin ordered a 36-hour ceasefire along the line of contact from Friday at midday to observe Russia and Ukraine’s Orthodox Christmas, which fell on Saturday. Ukraine rejected the truce, and the general staff of Ukraine’s armed forces said Russian troops had shelled dozens of positions and settlements along the front line on Saturday.

Travelers rush to take advantage of China reopening (AP) After years of separation from his wife in mainland China, Hong Kong resident Cheung Seng-bun made sure to be among the first in line following the reopening Sunday of border crossing points. The ability of residents of the semi-autonomous southern Chinese city to cross over is one of the most visible signs of China’s easing of border restrictions imposed almost three years ago, with travelers arriving from abroad no longer required to undergo expensive and time-consuming quarantines. “I’m hurrying to get back to her,” Cheung, lugging a heavy suitcase, told The Associated Press as he prepared to cross at Lok Ma Chau station, which was steadily filling with eager travelers. Those crossing between Hong Kong and mainland China, however, are still required to show a negative COVID-19 test taken within the last 48 hours—a measure China has protested when imposed by other countries.

Tests on travelers from China offer rare snapshot of covid chaos (Washington Post) As more travelers from China begin visiting international destinations for the first time in three years, covid data from places with on-arrival testing is offering a glimpse into the pandemic situation within China, which the World Health Organization said has been obscured by insufficient data. In late December, two flights from China to Italy brought in almost 100 coronovirus-infected passengers; about half of one flight and one-third of another tested positive. Countries around the world soon implemented increased testing requirements for arrivals from China, which have gone into effect during the run-up to heightened travel during the Lunar New Year holiday in late January. The new rules come into effect amid reports of overflowing hospitals and medicine shortages in China after it reversed its “zero covid” policy. Official data showed infection rates of more than 20 percent among travelers from China to neighboring South Korea and Taiwan in the first week of January.

‘Once in a century’ flood cuts off communities in northwestern Australia (Reuters) Military helicopters airlifted hundreds of people from communities cut off by “once in a century” floods in Australia’s northwest, an official leading relief efforts said on Sunday, noting water covered some places “as far as the eye could see”. The crisis in the Kimberley—an sparsely populated area in Western Australia state about the size of California—was sparked last week by severe weather system Ellie, a former tropical cyclone that brought heavy rain. “The water is everywhere,” Western Australia Emergency Services Minister Stephen Dawson told reporters in Perth. In some parts, he said flood waters stretched for 50 kilometres with inundation “as far as the eye can see”.

Iran hangs two more people in brutal campaign against protesters (Washington Post) Iran hanged two men tied to anti-government protests on Saturday, continuing a trend of using capital punishment to suppress dissent. The government has also killed hundreds of people, held thousands of sham trials and sentenced more people to death row, according to rights groups. The men, Mohammad Mehdi Karami, 22, and Seyyed Mohammad Hosseini, 39, were both accused of taking part in the killing of a member of the Basij, a volunteer paramilitary force overseen by Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps, on Nov. 3 near the city of Karaj, according to the Mizan News Agency, which is tied to Iran’s judiciary. They are the third and fourth protesters to be executed by the government since September and the first time two have been killed on the same day, perhaps indicating a ramping up of Iran’s lethal campaign to deter protests that have rocked the country for nearly four months.

‘Self-healing’ Roman concrete could aid modern construction, study suggests (Guardian) They have stood through the fall of an empire, the carnage of great wars and the foundation of a new country. But quite why structures made using Roman concrete are so durable has remained something of a mystery. Now researchers say they have discovered one possible explanation: the technique used to make the material may have helped to give it self-healing properties. “The Pantheon would not exist without the concrete as it was in the Roman time,” said Admir Masic, MIT professor of civil and environmental engineering and the lead author of the paper. But, he added, despite the Roman author and philosopher Pliny the Elder noting that concrete could become stronger with age, it is unlikely the Romans were aware of the chemistry involved—or just how long the material would endure.

#headlines #news

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gotham-ruaidh · 3 years

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Little Bit Better Than I Used To Be

This story takes place during the summer of 1987. It’s the time of the Cold War, and heavy metal, and Just Say No.

Ten chapters, each with a specific song as its soundtrack.

I’m so excited to finally share it with you.

Catch up: Chapter 1 (Starry Eyes) || Chapter 2 (Save Our Souls) || Also posted at AO3

—-

Chapter 3: Dancing On Glass

I've been through hell // And I'm never goin' back // To dancing on glass // Going way too fast...

Need one more rush // Then I know, I know I'll stop // One extra push // Last trip to the top...

Soundtrack: “Dancing On Glass,” Mötley Crüe, 1987 [click here to listen]

Three P.M.

Group.

Claire’s hands wrapped around the hard sides of the plastic chair, holding herself upright, watching about two dozen fellow patients? inmates? addicts? shuffle into the room.

Two people stood at the door – greeting others as they entered, handing out small packets of tissues and bottles of Coke.

Today’s facilitator – a middle-aged, bearded man – stood to one side, chatting with a few people.

“Hey!”

Claire startled – and turned to her right to see Jamie slide into the chair beside her.

“How’s it going today? Day two, right?”

She nodded. “Met with my therapist this morning.”

“That’s great! Who’ve you got?”

“Gillian.”

Jamie cracked open a bottle. “Oh, she’s great. Been here a long time. She’s married to the director – did you know that?”

Claire’s eyebrows raised. “No, but that’s really interesting.”

Jamie gulped about half the bottle in one shot. “Yeah. We owe everything to them.”

“Yeah, well. I got assigned to dinner set-up duty.”

He beamed. “Great! I’ve been on that rotation for the last few weeks. I’ll show you all the ropes.”

“Few weeks? How long have you been here, if you don’t mind me asking?”

He set down his Coke. “I don’t. And I’ve been here eight weeks. The best eight weeks of my fucked-up life.”

“Don’t say that,” she chided. “Surely everything can’t be so terrible.”

He stared at her for a long moment.

“It can be, if you were the reason why a sold-out European tour couldn’t happen, and it cost your backers and buddies tens of millions of dollars, and it pissed off countless thousands of fans.”

Now the greeters took their seats within the circle.

“Couldn’t, or didn’t?” Claire hoped her words were gentle, but when her head split with pain like this she could never tell. “And what do you mean by ‘tour’?”

His eyes narrowed. “Couldn’t. My manager said I’d come back from Europe in a body bag. He’s a bloodsucker but he had enough sense to not kill the golden goose.” He finished his Coke in one long gulp – flexing the tattoos swirling on his forearm and elbow. “And I’m a professional musician – in case you couldn’t guess from the way I look.”

“I see.”

He grinned. “How about that – someone who doesn’t recognize me.”

She folded her hands in her lap, closing her eyes against the pain, so desperately wanting to disappear. “I guess between medical school, and being a surgeon, and my ex-husband…and the pills…there are a lot of things I haven’t paid attention to.”

“Hey.” Softly he reached out to touch her knee – and she looked up at him.

“I’m not making fun of you, Claire. It’s just…I don’t know. Refreshing.”

She smiled tightly.

The facilitator clapped his hands. “Everyone – are we ready?”

People around the circle nodded, and the man sat down in the last empty chair.

“Great. Well, hi everyone. For those of you who don’t know me – I’m Murtagh. Been clean for just about eleven years now. Before that I spent a small fortune that I didn’t have – ”

“ – on enough blow to kill an elephant,” Jamie and several others chorused.

Murtagh smiled. “Wiseasses. Now – today’s topic is: clarity.”

“Can you be more specific?” A heavyset, bearded man across the circle piped up.

“You mean – provide more clarity?” Geneva snickered from somewhere near Jamie.

“Easy,” Murtagh interjected. “And yes, Rupert, of course. What I mean is: something I hear a lot from people here is that being away from substances gives them clarity for the first time in years. Clarity of thoughts – meaning, you’re logical and rational. Clarity of judgment – meaning, you feel like you are empowered to make good decisions. And overall, clarity to step away from all the bullshit that the substances made you do, or made it easier for you to do, and say – damn, what the hell was I doing?”

Across the circle, Rupert nodded. “OK. Oh – hi everyone, I’m Rupert, and I’m an alcoholic. Yeah – I can definitely relate. I wanted to not have clarity, so that I didn’t have to think about how much I was screwing up my job, and my marriage.”

“Good,” Murtagh praised. “And now that you can’t avoid it – how do you feel?”

Rupert stroked his thick beard. “Like shit. I love Scarlet so much, and I fucked it all up. I understand that now.”

“I feel the same way,” Jamie added. “Hi, I'm Jamie, and I'm an alcoholic, too. I drank because I’ve always felt so responsible for everything going on in my band – because I’m the guy that brought us together, and I’m the guy who writes the songs, and I’m the guy who’s across the table from the record company executives, advocating on our behalf.” He bounced a long, thin, jean-clad leg rapidly up and down. “I felt like I was being used, and that I was the only one who cared. I felt that really clearly. So I drank to…to avoid that clarity.”

Claire carefully watched the others around the circle. What Jamie was sharing could make any one of them a quick buck – all it would take was one phone call to a tabloid. But everyone was listening raptly – clearly thinking about parallels in their own lives – and it began to dawn on her that Jamie had one thing she didn’t have much of for herself: respect.

“And then when I drank, I’d just get really mean,” he continued. “I’d say things to rile up my drummer. I had a fling with my manager’s girlfriend, just to fuck with him. And yeah, I’d destroy hotel rooms.”

“Your reaction was to want to hurt people,” Murtagh said gently. “You had had clarity – clarity that you were shouldering too much, for too many people – and you reacted by wanting to push them away.”

“Yeah.” Claire spoke without thinking. “Um – hi everyone, I’m Claire, and I’m addicted to pills. Halcions, mostly.”

“Oh, those are the best,” a woman to Claire’s left remarked.

“Hey – no positive talk,” Murtagh interjected. “You know better than that, Letitia.”

Letitia huffed.

Murtagh turned back to face Claire. “Tell us more, Claire, if you’re comfortable?”

Now that she’d started, she couldn’t stop. “I was – am – a trauma surgeon for an emergency room. I love it – I love the adrenaline of it, and of course being able to help people on the worst day of their lives. I love being able to heal people. But…but it’s pretty heavy stuff. People die, no matter how hard you try to save them. People wake up and they’re not happy that they don’t have a leg anymore – and I say, would you rather be dead?”

“And you wanted to get away from that?” Jamie asked gently.

She closed her eyes. “I had to have clarity to do my job properly – it’s hard to describe, but it’s like having a laser focus on what’s in front of you. Getting in the zone. Shutting out everything else. And then when it’s all done – I would crash. The whole world would come rushing back, and I’d be covered in someone else’s blood and barely able to sit down before I had to work on the next person. That was so, so hard to deal with.”

“I understand.” Claire opened her eyes – it was an older man speaking right next to Jamie. “Hi everyone – I’m Ned, I’m a lawyer and crack addict, and there are a lot of jokes I’m sure you could make based on that.”

Claire managed a small smile.

“I’m a defense attorney – I’m that guy you see on TV arguing in a courtroom and presenting to a jury. I totally get what Claire said, because I needed to have that kind of really focused clarity, too. It was kind of like acting – I had to remember my argument, and I had to present it to the jury, and I had to pick up on cues from them to see how well I was doing. And then afterward I’d just crash. But I still had to have energy to prep for the next day, and that’s where Miss Crack came in.”

“So what I’m hearing is that clarity is something you already had – and then you turn to substances to get away from it.” Murtagh folded his arms. “Because it’s hard to flip that ‘off’ switch. And then eventually, the substances change from being something to take a vacation from that clarity, to completely blocking out that clarity altogether.”

“Exactly.” It was easier for Claire to focus on Murtagh than the sea of faces surrounding her. “And it’s a deliberate choice. I’m sure, Ned and Rupert and Jamie, that you deliberately sought out something to prevent that clarity. I know I did – I wrote the prescriptions for the pills that I consumed.”

Rupert nodded. “The bottle didn’t pick itself up and pour the liquor down my throat. And you’re right, Claire – at first, at least, it was a conscious decision. Until it became something I had to depend on.”

“I think that there are ways for this to happen more positively.” A woman seated beside Rupert quietly spoke. “Oh – hi, everyone, I’m Marsali, and I’m an alcoholic. What I mean is, there are ways to flip that ‘off’ switch that aren’t so…destructive. You can go for a run. Listen to music. Cook a meal. Watch a movie. Make love to your significant other.”

Murtagh nodded. “Marsali brings up a good point here. I’ll repeat something that I’ve already told many of you before, because it bears repeating. Substance addiction is addiction, first and foremost. All of us are here because our brains are hard-wired for addiction. We can’t change that. But we can change what it is that we’re addicted to.”

“Like what?” Letitia had calmed down a bit, but clearly she was skeptical.

“Whatever works for you,” Murtagh shrugged. “Jiu Jitsu. Flower Arranging. Reading. Playing the drums. Writing. Riding motorcycles. Not all addictions are bad – we just need to find the addictions that help us, and don’t hurt us or the people around us.”

Everyone’s heads nodded in agreement, quietly reflecting.

“So – that’s my homework assignment for all of you.” Murtagh pulled a small spiral notebook from his pocket, flipped to a fresh page, and began scribbling in it. “To think about the thing that you can become positively addicted to. Something you already enjoy, or something you’ve never done before. But I hope that even just thinking about it will give you focus. Improve your clarity.”

“Got it,” Ned said quietly.

Murtagh flipped back to an earlier page in his notebook. “Now – I have here my notes from the last time I facilitated Group. OK if I start going around and asking people for follow-up thoughts to those? Rupert?”

Rupert nodded, and began to speak.

“Facilitators take turns hosting Group every fourth day.” Claire started a bit, but held steady as Jamie leaned in close, spoke quietly into her ear. “We talk about things, and we’re assigned homework, and then the next time the facilitator is back we talk about it.”

“Thanks,” Claire murmured.

Jamie didn’t pull away. “If you ever just want to talk…”

She swallowed. “Thanks. I do. I just – it’s a lot to process.”

“It is. But you’ll get there. Talk more at our dinner prep.”

With that he pulled back, and a low buzz settled somewhere between Claire’s ears as the people around her chimed in to the conversation.

#outlander #outlander fanfic #little bit better than i used to be

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iwasjustgoingthere · 3 years

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Book list

it’s getting super long so here is the first part: Part 1

30. The Love Letters of Abelard and Lily by Laura Creedie (done)

31. Waking Lions by Ayelet Gundar-Goshen (done)

Mmm I didn’t love it but it was interesting enough and it’s nice to read things outside of my normal zone. Book club meeting for this book was cancelled/postponed indefinitely.

32. Illuminae by Amie Kaufman and Jay Kristoff (done)

Borrowed from my friend Anna because I lent her Sleeping Giants. Set in space and written in the form of transcripts and chat conversations. It was cool and I read it really fast! And the main character is called Kady! There are two more books in the series, I’m curious to read those and have already borrowed them from Anna:

34. Gemina and 35. Obsidio by Amie Kaufman and Jay Kristoff

33. Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir (done)

I really like how Andy Weir writes. He sets up a really cool problem and then writes about how one would solve it, but like a human, in an entertaining way. I read this book while away for a week doing field work, and I loved having nothing but science on the brain. The story is that the sun is being eaten by space algae and the main guy is on a space mission to fix it, and has amnesia. Very good book.

15. On Looking by Alexandra Horowitz (done!)

I finished this book one day before my second round of borrowing it ends. Horowitz picked a really interesting topic and wrote about it in a very academic way. The opposite of Andy Weir, kind of. I really just wanted to read about her walks around the block with different experts and what cool things they noticed, but she also brought in a lot about how the brain processes things, historical and scientific background to the subject at hand. As a result, slow reading. But still a good book.

36. Eleanor Olliphant is Completely Fine by Gail Honeyman (done)

One of my favorite books, reread for comfort.

37. The Downstairs Girl by Stacey Lee

Recommended to me by Anna.

38. no one is talking about this by patricia lockwood

I randomly went on a book-buying spree and bought this book along with several other. I used up my 80 euro giftcard to the big book store in the city, Dussmann, and then ordered two additional used books online from Worldofbooks.com, which I really, really recommend as an alternative to Amazon for books, at least within Europe (maybe elsewhere but I’ve only used it here). I got a second copy of Marianengraben so that I can lend it out to people and my own copy of Eleanor Olliphant. The other new books acquired are:

39. Something New by Lucy Knisley

40. L’Algorithme du Coeur by Jean-Gabriel Caussee

It’s been a while since I’ve read something in French! Exciting. It’s about a woman who notices the internet has become sentient and tries to befriend it, I think.

41. The Secret to Superhuman Strength by Alison Bechdel

42. The Wanderer by Peter Van Den Ende

Is it still reading if the book doesn’t have words?

43. Can’t we talk about something more pleasant? by Roz Chast

A graphic novel (?) about the author moving her aging parents into a home. I thought it would be nice to read because aging and end of life is suddenly becoming a very relevant topic in my family in regards to my grandparents.

#speaking

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jeonggukkiepabo · 4 years

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LONELY CHRISTMAS [MIN YOONGI] | FAMILY GATHERINGS

SUMMARY: Christmas has always been your second favorite holiday of the year, especially since you and your boyfriend Yoongi were literally inseperatable. Well, usually you were. But BTS gets more and more famous - world tours, award shows and other idol priorities making it almost impossible to spend this year’s Christmas with your second family.

WARNINGS: so much fluff, but also the dirty kind of smut. fingering, oral (male and female receiving), choking, spitting, raw sex (i dont need to say anything, do i?), switch!yoongi, switch!reader, fighting for dominance, Yoongi being meow meow but also rawr.

QUOTES USED: 2. “That’s the eggnog talking. I’m cutting you off.” 4. “Don’t be such a Scrooge.” 6. “It’s snowing.” 7. “Open it.” 9. “I’m just happy you’re here.” 24. “Is this the part where we kiss?” 31. “Help me decorate.”

Now; Merry (early) Christmas, celebrate well & enjoy this filthy ride to hell.

Also, a big thanks to @holyfluffly, who spent her precious time reading through this & checking for any mistakes. ♥

Since December started to come around – and you finally decided that it was time to stop binging on your favorite Halloween movies -, your house changed from spoopy graveyard to Rudolph’s shed. Fairy lights and beautiful garlands were hung up everywhere and once you plugged all your Christmas lights in, your house was lighter than “Son Goku in his final form”. At least that’s what Jungkook used to describe it when he first stepped into your winter wonderland. It was a tradition your boys always teased you with, but it was a tradition you brought with you from your home country that you wouldn’t want to miss. Your mother used to hang up lights everywhere, different Christmas shapes (you once had this weird reindeer light that looked more like a stabbed donkey, but… well) on every window and your balcony while she said “No matter how far apart we are, your light shines on me” – and 2 years after her death, was your most favorite thing to do once the calendar hit December. That, and ordering a shit ton of products from the LUSH and Bath and Body Works Christmas range. Jimin really loved the welcoming smell of cotton candy and gingerbread men, but Jin would sneeze when you sprayed all their pillows with the Snow Fairy body spray.

Usually, it was Taehyung’s favorite task to pick out a Christmas tree with you, decorating it with the entire family (that obviously consisted of all his band mates, their dogs and you), but this time it was just you, Tannie and Holly walking around the tree field and picking a random one, much smaller than what you’d usually get. There won’t be any presents underneath it anyway. Decorating wasn’t any fun, your Christmas playlist wasn’t helping, the smell of cotton candy wasn’t sweet enough. You made way too many Christmas cookies that wouldn’t be eaten. Your favorite pair of fuzzy socks had a huge hole in them and, oh well, your boyfriend wouldn’t be there for this year’s Christmas.

“Don’t be such a Scrooge, Y/N! It’s festive season!”, Jungkook yelled from somewhere behind Yoongi, energetic as always. “I wouldn’t be a Scrooge if my boyfriend and my friends would be here, celebrating the fest of love with me.” You mumbled quietly, a heavy sigh leaving your chest. It was currently the 17th of December, the first snow has fallen over Seoul, your fireplace crackling softly in the background. Yet, you were freezing. “Jagi, come on. It’s just another day of the year, we’ll be fine. We have New Year’s together, what’s the deal?” Your boyfriend didn’t care that much about festive traditions, hating the thought of Valentine’s Day or Halloween, not even speaking about the stress he always has around the Christmas season. For them, worldwide superstars, it was just another workday.

“You’re just happy you don’t need to wear one of our Christmas sweaters, huh?”, you scolded him, knowing his hate for the scratchy sweaters with the ugly patterns that you always made him and the boys wear for photos and your Christmas dinner at home. “Yeah, I won’t even start talking about those Rudolph ears you bought for our photo last year…”, Yoongi smirked. “I loved those!”, you vaguely heard the voice of Jimin in the background, Taehyung agreeing him on that. “I still wear those whenever I wash my face, thank you Y/N!” Sighing, you wished you were right there, with your loud and energetic boys, instead you were suffering on your own, the pout never leaving your lips.

“Boys, you’ve got 10 Minutes left!”, their tour manager interrupted your sulking, Yoongi nodding at him. “We’ll be right there.” He smiles at your pout, sticking out his bottom lip as well. “I’ll call you after the show, okay? Will you be still awake?” BTS was currently on world tour, playing somewhere in Europe and the time differences made it rougher than ever to talk to your boyfriend every day. You shrug, shivering under the thought of another sleepless night without your love, without the sounds of Taehyung and Jungkook fighting over some videogame and without the thought of Jin’s delicious breakfast to wake up to. “I guess I will, see you later, Yoongs. Bye Tae, bye Jungkook, bye Jiminie!”, you wave to the boys you considered family before smiling sadly at Yoongi. “Good luck, I’m sure you guys will rock that country! I love you.” “I love you too, Jagi. I’ll text you before I’m going to call you, okay? Try and rest.” “Bye, Noona!” Then the screen went black, all you could see was your own sad appearance in one of Yoongi’s oversized Hoodies.

Days went by, you didn’t have the chance to talk very much to Yoongi because of yours and their working schedule, they were currently in the States to record another hit song with some famous American singer that would explode on the Charts the second it comes out. Sure, you loved your boy’s music, you could listen to them sing and rap for hours, they worked hard and deserved all their success – but you didn’t wonder that all of them weren’t in a relationship. Tour life was hard, not only for their girlfriends but for them, too. A simple picture from across the world with a random girl could ruin relationships, just because of a misunderstanding. When you and Yoongi started dating a couple of years ago, Jin had a long-distance relationship – which already sucks for ‘normal’ human beings, but for worldwide superstars? A catastrophe because you couldn’t just come home to your significant other. It was over for them after a few months because she met a nice guy from her apartment complex, because he was there while Jin wasn’t. It was sad, especially for the Maknaes, because they needed affection, they needed their experience, they needed love. Instead, they had to have One Night Stands, making sure that those girls wouldn’t talk about their “night with BTS”. Truth be told it was too much work to find a girl to get laid, so they’d simply refuse, giving into their frustration and suffer from loneliness.

With Yoongi, things were easy. He didn’t get jealous whenever you hung out with other guys, but he also didn’t give you any reason to be jealous as well. People always describe him as “cold”, “depressed” or “weird guy that’s always quiet”, but once he warmed up to you, he was even funnier than Jin, his dry humor and loving gestures winning over your heart immediately. He was a family person, loving to be in a cozy home surrounded by his bandmates and you, even if he’d never say that out loud, all of them knew it. Yoongi was a loving person, whether he was showing it or not.

The 20th December rolled around quicker than you thought, last minute presents were bought, the house completely decorated and one Christmas movie after the other was playing on TV – but you were still sulking. “You didn’t even help me decorate! I had to do all of that by myself!”, you switched your phone camera so you could show Jimin how beautiful the living room looked, smiling at his little pout. “Noona!”, he whined, “Don’t be angry, okay? I promise you I’ll decorate for New Year’s all by myself.” “Don’t worry, Jiminie, it’s not your fault you can’t be here. Where’s Hobi? I’m watching his favorite Christmas movie, but I can’t get in the mood without my sunshine.” Jimin looks around, his lips twitching, but he remained quiet. “Jimin?” “He’s… uhhhh… He’s doing stuff with Yoongi and Tae?” You raise an eyebrow at him, taking another sip of the creamy eggnog you ordered online because it was nowhere to be found in Seoul. “Are you lying, Jiminie?” “No, but… Oh, Jungkook calls for me, bye Noona!” Sighing, you dropped your phone aside, head tilting towards the window while a soft smile appeared on your lips. It’s snowing.

On the 24th December, the boys had their last official concert of the year – in Australia. A 13-hour flight away, plus the two-hour time difference that made your heart sink, because whenever you were ready to call Yoongi, he was already too tired because of the concert and travel exhaustion. As one of the idol’s girlfriend, it was basically your job to watch their performances, you streamed all of them, no matter what time it was in your time zone, but it wasn’t as good as it would be when you were there. You loved going to their concerts, not standing backstage to watch the show, no. You preferred going into the crowd, singing and dancing along with ARMYs from around the world and watching your family from down there, enjoying their glow and sensual performances from a fan’s perspective. But today, it was just you and your laptop, watching the stream in your bed, a cup of your favorite tea beside you, Tannie on your lap and Holly somewhere besides you under the blanket, asleep like always. A smile was plastered on your face as you saw that all of them were wearing those “stupid Rudolph ears” – even if Yoongi looked grumpier than ever. You were fascinated as always – how could those cute little boys turn into Korean gods within two seconds? Of course, the Maknaes were the center of attention, fans chanting for them, dancing and screaming – you couldn’t deny the fact that they looked great, but exhaustion was plastered on all of their faces. Your eyes were plastered on the smol bean that caught your heart and as if he knew, he smiled into the camera, giving it a finger heart.

The 25th December was rough, you didn’t even want to get out of bed, staying under the covers for several hours after waking up. There was no reason so get up if there wasn’t anyone to give presents to. You didn’t use your phone, watching The Nightmare before Christmas again because if you acted like it was still Halloween, you wouldn’t be as sad that you were alone on your second favorite holiday of the year. It was around 12pm when the two dogs came into your room, whimpering because you didn’t take them out yet. “Ugh, fine, fine. Let me grab my shoes and we’ll go out”, you mumbled groggily while heaving your tired body out of bed. Pulling your slippers over your cold toes as you tied your hair out of your face. You didn’t plan to go out for too long, so you didn’t even try to make yourself look good. Humming the movie’s soundtrack, you made your way downstairs, surprised by the warm scent of cinnamon and vanilla that filled the house. “Huh, did I leave my candles on?” With furrowed eyebrows you check the living room, not wanting to burn the entire house down on Christmas, but you stood still in shock when you realized why it smelled just the way it did.

Jimin and Jin were busy in the kitchen, baking cookies and cooking up your Christmas dinner. Jungkook and Taehyung were building a giant gingerbread house while Namjoon sat besides them, frustrated over his own ruined house laying in broken pieces. Hobi placing all of the presents underneath the Christmas tree while Yoongi sat on the couch, Holly on his lap and a loving smile on his face as he saw you in your sleepy state with a frown on your face. “Merry Christmas, babe.”

Suddenly, seven pairs of eyes were on you, smiles beaming across the entire room and seconds later you were caught in a warm, cozy group hug. “Surprise, Noona!”, Jungkook beamed as he pressed a kiss on your cheek, receiving a flip against his forehead from Yoongi. “Lips away, you can kiss Taehyung, not my girl.” Taehyung’s cheeks burned a bright red, Jungkook looked away while biting his lips and Jimin just smirked but pressed you tight against his body. “We’re glad to be back.” Jin groaned, pulling you out of the hug. “Let that poor girl alone, she needs to collect her thoughts first. Look at her”, he pointed towards your face, shock still written across it as you looked into each of your boys’ faces. “You… I mean, how… You were… Australia?” Your boyfriend laughed, now pulling you into a tight hug while burying his nose in your hair, inhaling the familiar scent that always calmed him down. “We’re here, that’s all that matters.” “We took the first plane back home, but we’ve been waiting for you to get up since 9AM, what did you do? It’s Christmas, usually you’d set an alarm at 6AM to run and check your presents”, Hobi pouted, pointing towards the tree.

“I didn’t have a reason to be up, so I watched The Nightmare before Christmas. But now, I’m just happy you’re here”, you smiled fondly at all of them, “Open your presents. Especially you, Babe. Open it!” You clap your hands excitedly, jumping up and down as you hand them their presents: a big, soft blanket for Jimin, so he can roll himself up in it and be cozy the entire holidays. A new Japanese knife for Jin, because Namjoon broke his favorite knife when he tried to cut through a book – don’t ask, nobody knows why he did that. Namjoon got a new KAWs figure he didn’t have the chance to buy yet while Hoseok got a new Palm Angels hoodie. Taehyung and Jungkook got some games for their PlayStation and a set of new controllers, because… well, Jungkook tends to destroy them when he’s in a rage. Yoongi’s present was hard to find because he basically has everything he wants and you weren’t too familiar with all those high end music technologies that you could give him, so you decided on a spa weekend over the holidays, just the two of you in a fancy wellness resort. Exactly what he needed after that tour. “Y/N, you must be poor by now! I should have gotten you a gift card or something”, Taehyung pouted, “You spent way too much on our presents!” You smiled, shaking your head and pressed a soft kiss on his cheeks. “Everything for my family. You’re all that I have left.”

The day went by way too fast; a fabulous Christmas buffet was set up by Jin, eggnog and wine handpicked by the youngest Maknae and Christmas movies of Jimin’s choice made up for all the days you spent sulking in your room. “I love you guys so much. I can’t believe you surprised me like that! Ugh, I really thought I had to spend Christmas with just the dogs.” You placed your head on Yoongi’s shoulder, cuddling deeper into the soft material of his hoodie while he rubbed your shoulder. “That’s the eggnog talking, love. You’re the anchor of our little family, we couldn’t be apart from you over the holidays, Jungkook would’ve driven us crazy and Namjoon would set the hotel on fire while trying to light a Christmas candle”, Yoongi mumbled. “A Christmas wonder! Yoongi confessed his feelings! Tweet that, Namjoon!”, Hoseok yelled while earning a slap on the back of his head from Jimin. “Don’t scare him, he’s like a deer right now, if we just ignore it, maybe he’ll say something nice about us too!” Yoongi just rolled his eyes, pulling you closer toward his small frame while mumbling “Idiots”.

It was past midnight, your tummies filled with delicious snacks and desserts, brain fogged because of the amount of alcohol all of you drank that day – and you were just happy to finally be in bed with your boyfriend again. “You know how lonely the nights were without you? Not just you, but also the boys. I even missed Jungkook’s animal imitations”, you sighed, “I missed breakfast, without Jin all I ate was toast and cucumbers. I’m lucky to be part of your family.” Yoongi smiled, a precious, rare smile that showed all his love for you.

“I had time to think on tour, you know. It’s rough, you not being there with me, I saw all those places, cities and famous buildings, but didn’t have you to share those moments with. I had dinner with Taehyung right in front of the Eiffel Tower, I shared a Pizza in Venice with Jungkook, had beer with Hoseok in Berlin, but I wish I had all those moments with you, love. So, I’m bad at this stuff, you know that. The entire world knows that, but you also know that I love you. And I wish you could be the person by my side on tour, on every tour. I wish you could be my +1 at events, dinner parties or during award shows. I even talked to our management, because an ‘official girlfriend’ is dangerous for all of us. But I didn’t want the world to meet you as my girlfriend, Y/N. I want them to finally meet you as my wife, the woman that won’t ever leave my side. This is probably trashy and I could use better opportunities for that, but… Y/N, my love, my flower, my angel, would you marry me?” Yoongi, the smooth guy he was, pulled out a simple yet beautiful rosé gold ring – without a box – from the pocket of his sweats, sitting in front of you on your bed, crossed legs and a nervous smile on his face. You couldn’t hide the pout on your face, lips quivering and tears dwelling in your eyes while you looked at the beautiful man in front of you, the beautiful ring in his hands and outside, snowflakes fall from the sky. Everything was perfect. “Yoongi… Yes! Fuck, of course!”, you jumped into his lap, not caring about the pling your engagement ring made when it fell to the floor, because right now, your fiancé was more important. You showered his face in kisses, not caring the slightest about the grumpy noises he made – even if they were fake, because he was just as happy as you were. His smile was beautiful, something you didn’t see that much because he seldom smiled so brightly even his bottom teeth were showing. “Is that the part where we kiss?”

You didn’t hesitate to press your lips onto his, soft and loving, sweet and tender. “Min Yoongi, is that the part where you turn into the sweet little kitten your fandom thinks you are?” Smirking, Yoongi growls at you, showing you his teeth once more. “Oh baby, I’m going to show you that nothing on my body is little.” His lips were back on yours, his hands buried in your hair as he made his way between your legs, almost crushing you with the comfortable weight of his body on yours. Whatever loving, sweet innocent kiss you shared before, this one was completely different. It gave way to heated passion as you both continue the lustful, erotic exchange. Yoongi’s shaking but skilled hands started to peel off your ugly Christmas sweater and the rest of your clothes, falling to the floor forgotten, before he gently bites along your jaw and the nape of your neck, leaving a trail of love bites on the way down there. Your moans fill the room that still smells like cinnamon and cotton candy, combined with Yoongi’s musky scent and the sweet scent of a heated make-out session. With his lips still attached to your soft skin, you take the opportunity to catch him off guard and flip both your bodies into a new position; you now straddling his slim waist. Yoongi’s lips widened in shock, then turned into a bright smirk. “Someone’s feisty.” You just smile at him sweetly, cutting off his words as you wrap your hands around his beautiful throat, leaning your face towards his ear. “I wouldn’t speak like that in such a position, Babe.”

Yoongi’s voice hitched, “Y/N”, he whined. The same hand that restricted his airways comes up to slightly slap his scruffed cheek, but it had still enough force to leave a sting that reminded him not to speak up anymore. “Aren’t you going to be a good boy? Or should I call you a good little kitten? Would you like that?” He shakes his head quickly, baring his teeth once more. “Shut that, love. You won’t be able to tame a lion. I’m not a small kitten.” He knows he could switch positions any time, hell, you knew that too. But you also knew that he enjoyed that position too much to change anything now. Shaking your head in displeasure, you crawl down the bed to be at eye level with his beautiful cock. The cock that had you limping almost every night, that never fails to give you pleasure, that already sends tingles to your core. Your hands were cold against the prominent vine that ran from his shaft to his leaking tip, red and sensitive as you licked your finger to circle around it. Tiny moans – mewls – left his mouth, causing you to giggle. You knew it. His balls were tight, full and hurting. He was away for so long, having almost no time to pleasure himself. You cooed, the other hand coming up to gently play with them, rolling them around as you kept applying pressure to his tip. Yoongi’s groans got louder and louder once your mouth was finally working its magic on him, his hands buried inside the loose strands of your hair, trying to shove you down deeper. Much to your displeasure.

You hissed, letting go of his length as you crawled up to sit on his toned chest. Smiling, you slid your fingers through your soaked folds, holding them in front of his sweaty face. “Suck.” Oh, and how he sucks. His tongue working circles around your digit, collecting your sweet juices as he hums happily. “You’re my toy. A fucking toy, do you understand that? You don’t get to make rules here, Yoongi. If I want to suck your cock, I’ll do it how I want, not how you want it. Or did I miss something?” You made sure his eyes never left yours, fingers still inside his mouth – and you just decided to shove them down a bit deeper, making him gag around them just like he wants you to gag around his cock. “I asked you something, pretty babe. Mind answering?” Yoongi hums again, not able to speak with your fingers down his throat, but it was good enough of a try for you. It wasn’t every day you got the chance to dominate Min Yoongi, you were sure to getting everything out of it. You pulled your now wet digits out of his mouth, wiping away his spit somewhere in his mint colored hair, as you turned around to sit on his face, just like he loves you to do. By now, his only problem was holding back his load, eating your pussy wouldn’t help with that though. “Now, are you going to cum for me, precious? While devouring my pussy? I bet you’d like that, huh?” Yoongi hums again, his hands already on your ass to spread your cheeks, allowing him to dive deep into your pussy, drinking your juices, slurping them down like a fine, ripe wine. Teasingly, you continued to jerk him off, enjoying the tension in his body, his concentration on your pussy rather than his own orgasm. “Mh, wait. I changed my mind. Hold it, you don’t have my permission just yet”, you laughed as you squeezed his balls – but he wasn’t able to control it or hold it back. His cock twitched uncontrollably, one small rope of cum leaving the tip. “Ugh, look at that”, you sighed while shaking your head, sitting down deeper on his face – your ass now flat against his forehead as his tongue, the oh so famous rapper tongue, worked its wonders.

If Yoongi was frustrated, he didn’t show it. He knew better. Even though it was his first real orgasm in weeks, his first ruined orgasm in weeks, he stood up the man he was and continued what he was here for. Pleasuring his fiancé. Just before your orgasm arrived, you crawled down again, collecting the small puddle of cum with your tongue and fed it to your soon to be husband. You let him taste himself, he swallowed greedily. “Such a good boy”, you purr while wiping the sweat from his forehead. “Now, I hope you know who you belong to.” Yoongi just nods, licking his lips to still taste you. “Tell me who you belong to, Yoongi”, you command.

“You, babe. Only you. I belong to you”, Yoongi moans out as you started to grind against his smooth thigh, picking up your desired pace as you used him to satisfy your own desire. His hands were on your hips, guiding you and helping you to speed up, but just before your orgasm reached his peak, just one little rock of your hips missing, he turned you around, leaving you with a ruined orgasm as well. “Fucking son of a bi-“, your frustration interrupted by Yoongi’s teeth biting into your nipple, his hand smacking your other tit. “Oh, that’s not a nice word, baby”, he pouts while pinching both of your erect buds with a bit too much force. A sharp stinging sensation radiating through your body. “Fuck, Yoongi”, you moaned, desperate for release. “Now, now”, he tzed as he looked down at your trembling body. “Sucks to be played with, huh?” Elegant fingers started to rub circles into your swollen nub, your body rising from the mattress just to be pushed back by your fiancé. “Still”, he orders, plunging two of his long, delicate fingers into your dripping hole. Yet, you needed more. “Yoongi”, you whined. “Are you going to be a good girl now? Instead of a fucking brat?” “Yes!”, you cried out, tears running down your cheeks, hoping he’d just do something. “Good, because bad girls disgust me”, he spoke through clenched teeth as he pulled out his fingers and shoved his cock inside you within seconds. “Fuck fuck fuck, yes!”

“Shut up! Or do you want the boys to come in and join you, huh? You want our little Maknae see how stuffed you are?” Yoongi always knew about your affection for Jungkook, the way his doe eyes always make your heart jump, leaving it impossible to deny whatever he wanted from you while addressing you as his ‘favorite Noona’. You were weak for him, but you wouldn’t want him to see you in such a situation. Shaking your head in shame, you pout as you dig your heels into his ass to get him to move faster. “Make me cum, please. I love you”, you whine, word for word leaving your lips as he thrusts deep and powerful into your clenching hole. Just before another beg could leave your lips, Yoongi’s index finger slipped past them, your chin securely trapped between his thumb and middle finger. His other hand slowly found its place on your neck. “Look at you”, he smiles. “Such a good girl, knowing how to beg like a big girl.” You whimper again, squeezing around him as he slowed his pace with a devilish smirk. Your lips played with the tip of his finger while the thumb of his other hand came down to circle your clit painfully slow, spitting onto it and watching his finger mixing it with your arousal. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, both of your hands gripping the wrist that was choking you. “Tighter, please”, you gasped out, enjoying the feeling of almost no air coming to your lungs. Oh, how Yoongi loved to see you struggle for air, just as much as you loved to be on the receiving end. “You gonna come for me, angel?”, he growled as he tightened his grip, already feeling his own orgasm approaching. “Going to cum around my thick cock, huh?” You nod, already seeing spots in your vision, your orgasm shooting through your body just like a firework as soon as Yoongi released you, allowing the blood to shoot back into your head. You couldn’t control your body anymore, gushing against him as you rode out your high with closed eyes. That alone triggered Yoongi’s orgasm, a loud scream leaving his lips as he finally released inside you. “Fuck, you squirted all over me”, he groaned while looking at the mess you made, his stomach glistering in your juices. “I don’t care, I want to snuggle my Grinch now”, you pouted with grabby hands, smiling happily as Yoongi obeyed.

“I think we lost the ring somewhere between our clothes”, Yoongi mumbles with his sleepy voice, “I hope Taehyung won’t find it, he was the one that chose it – ‘If Y/N says no, I’ll wear that one happily’.” Suddenly you’re wide awake, knees on the floor and digging through your clothes to find the symbol of your love. “Got it!”, you yelled as you threw it to Yoongi, holding your left hand in front of his face. “You’ve got the honor, babe.” Smiling, he slid the ring over your finger. The black diamonds sparkling in the dim light of your room, the rosé gold complimenting your skin tone perfectly, just like the man in front of you does. Your fiancé, soon to be husband, the love of your life. “Merry Christmas, love.”

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angelic-holland · 5 years

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Palm Trees // th x fem!reader

Summary: You were starring alongside Scarlett Johansson in the new Black Widow movie, she’s a younger spy that Nat saves from the Red Room, trains her to be better. You meet Tom prior to the premiere of The Red Room and he agrees to be your date.

Part of my Drive North series. Based on the song Palm Trees by the SWMRs, listen to it while reading. As you will hear in the song, it discusses the corruption of Hollywood and younger more naive people being taken advantage of in the industry.

Warnings: brief sexual harassment (not Tom), angst

Word Count: 6.1K

Sarah! Sarah! Look over here! Sarah! Smile!” You hear people shout and you wave and grin as your security walks you inside Jimmy Kimmel’s studio. Your stage name, Sarah Winters was being called left and right.

You know that they were really waiting for Scarlett who would be arriving soon, but they knew a little about your role in the movie, they’ve seen the behind the scenes photos and they’ve seen the trailer, so they’ve got some idea of who you are.

You made your way inside, getting put in your own dressing room which was literally a dream, something you’ve been thinking about and hoping would happen since you were a little girl.

When Scarlett arrived she hugged you tight. When Jimmy asked you questions about the movie, you talked excitedly and animatedly, almost spoiling a huge plot point when Scarlett put her hand over your mouth.

“Looks like Holland’s gonna get a run for his money on the spoilers,” she laughs and you’re blushing, you totally knew what you could and couldn’t say but this was the first big, TV interview you’d ever done. You were just incredibly excited.

Later that night you posted some photos on your Instagram, the first one being a shot of Scarlett’s hand over your mouth with your eyes wide.

You laughed as you captioned it, “let’s play how to keep Y/N from spoiling the entire Black Widow movie”.

You posted it and as you got ready for bed, exhausted from the long day of press. Before falling asleep you saw some comments, most of them were funny, a lot were tagging Tom saying that you were coming for his title.

You saw a notification that Tom had commented on your post as well, probably because everyone kept tagging him.

tomholland2013: as spoiler king, you can be spoiler queen, no stealing my title

You rolled your eyes, blushing a little. You ignored the onslaught of people commenting, lots of those sideways glancing eye emojis, a few keyboard smashes. You’ve never even met the guy. A few moments later you noticed he had followed you. You wondered if he would be at the Black Widow premiere, then maybe you could meet him. Since before you were cast as the young woman who Natasha takes under her wing, you’ve always been a fan of Marvel movies, the smallest crush on the actor who played Spiderman. He was attractive, seemed nice enough, your age; what more could you ask for?

You sent a quick text to Scarlett, asking if other MCU actors would be at the premiere.

Scarlett: why? Hoping a certain someone might show up?

You: psshhh no I don’t know what you mean

Scarlett: Tom might be there, let me ask

You: no omg he’ll wanna know why you’re asking

Scarlett: no he won’t give me a second

You groan, putting your phone on the edge of the bedside table and trying to sleep.

You wake up the next morning by your alarm. You’ve got a flight to London to do one last round of press before the premiere in a week.

You shower quickly and toss on a comfortable sweatshirt and gym shorts before shoving your PJs into your suitcase, making sure you had everything from your hotel room. You make it to the car that was waiting for you on time, miraculously, before checking your phone.

You noticed a text from an unknown number and frowned, opening it as you got in the backseat.

“Airport?” The driver asks.

“Yes please, thank you!”

Unknown number: Hey so I heard you need a date to the Black Widow premiere.

You: sorry who is this?

You check your texts to Scarlett.

Scarlett: a certain someone may or may not have asked if you’re going with anyone to the premiere, told him you weren’t, think you might be interested in having him on your arm for the night

You: wait, like, Tom Holland , that’s who we’re talking about? No way you didn’t convince him out of pity

You’re heart is sort of racing as you wait for a response from Scarlett.

She sends back a screenshot of her conversation with Tom, her asking if he’s going to the premiere. Then him asking if you have a date. And Scarlett telling him you didn’t, but he better act fast and then she sent your phone number.

You quickly add the unknown number in your phone.

You: I mean, you don’t even know me like at all, what would make you want to be my date?

You’re shocked by how quickly he answers.

Tom: well I could get to know you.

You: you know everyone and their mother is freaking out about that insta comment of yours?

Tom: their mothers too? Quite nosy aren’t they?

Tom: So, when can I meet you? See if you’re truly the spoiler queen

You: I ALMOST say one thing and suddenly I’m the spoiler queen? At least I didn’t actually spoil any big plot points from the movie

Tom: fine fine you haven’t earned that title yet

Tom: you and Scarlett will be in London tomorrow right?

You: you stalking me?

Tom: no, just asked Scarlett

“Miss? We’re at the airport.”

You look up and sure enough your driver has pulled up to the airport. Someone opens the door, greeting themselves as your security, taking your suitcase from the trunk and offering to hold your backpack.

“I’m fine thank you,” you say as he walks you into the airport. Thankfully there aren’t any paparazzi or fans of Scarlett here, who was taking a later flight.

You check in and your suitcase is sent off before you go through security, Todd, the security person following you. He let you know he’d be with you until your flight and then when you landed in London there would be another person waiting for you.

This was all new to you, having security with you at airports, when you went to press events, the rare occasion of being recognized when you’re out and about.

You checked your phone again while waiting to board. It was a short wait, another thing you’ve never experienced, one was plane flights in general, the other was getting to be in first class. You felt so fancy you lost your mind the first time you flew with the cast to a filming location in Europe.

You waited for your seat location to be called, seeing another text from Tom.

Tom: I’ll be in London for the next few days, call me when you land

You gulp, quickly responding before boarding.

You: will do

The entire plane ride you attempt to sleep, try not to think of Tom fucking Holland asking you to call him. It doesn’t work. You sit there, watch movie after movie, trying to keep your mind off the boy. You gave up and put on Spiderman: Homecoming. You’ve seen it before so you let yourself get a little lost in the story, falling asleep about halfway through. You’re woken up by the rumble of the plane touching down.

***

You make it to your hotel with limited problems, you at first couldn’t find the security person waiting for you then realized he was holding a sign with your stage last name and not your real last name.

“Hi Miss Winters, I’ll be working with you while you’re in London, names Rick, shall we head to the hotel?”

“That’d be great, thank you,” you say, noting he’s already got your suitcase.

You see another text from Tom and blush as you sit in the car.

Tom: don’t wanna sound like a weirdo tho so ur totally not obligated to go out with me if you don’t want to

You: who said anything about going out?

Tom: I just meant, like to get to know each other before you whisk me away on the red carpet

You: I’ll see if I can sneak away from the hotel tonight, don’t have press until tomorrow

Tom: I could come to you

You: huh

Tom: we could hang in your hotel room, order room service, besides if we are out and about together the instagram comments would be the least of our problems

You: problems?

You frown, problems? You didn’t want to stir up trouble, you didn’t want to get death threats from teenagers over Tom either, considering you don’t even know the type of person he is, considering you’re just going to hang out.

Tom: well I’m just not really in the mood to be swarmed on the street by paps and fans and stuff

Tom: unless you wanna go out then we can, it’s whatever

You: no, no id much rather that not happen, hasn’t really happened to me yet and I’d prefer it to stay that way

Tom: after this you’ll be so famous you won’t know what to do with yourself

You laugh to yourself, Randy glancing at you.

You: highly doubt I’ll be loved nearly as much as you are

Tom: nonsense

You: I’ll be at The Savoy hotel, you know it?

Tom: I can use google

You: idk I heard you were pretty bad with technology

Tom: you’re right, google and texting are the only two things I feel 100% sure I can do

“Miss Winters? We’re at the hotel. Your schedule for the next few days should be in your email. You have the rest of the day off though.”

You nod, time zones were messing with your head, “what time is it right now?”

“10am.”

“Thank you,” you say as you both get out of the car. You check into your room and thank Rick for your suitcase.

You toss your backpack and suitcase down before flopping onto the bed, checking your phone.

Tom: are you at the hotel now?

You: yea

Tom: ok

You checked out the room service food, realizing since you slept on your flight you were starving. You decide to order pizza even though it’s early, you called and they said they could get some delivered from a local shop. You check your phone and see that Tom texted you again.

Tom: on my way, what’s your room #

You: 413

Oh, he was already on his way, shit. You practically jump out of bed and open your suitcase. You know it shouldn’t matter what you wear. But you change out of your oversized sweatshirt into a plain white T-shirt, keeping your gym shorts on. You thank god that your job and press required you to shave. Because although you didn’t think anything would happen, you wanted to feel confident if it did.

You changed quickly and brushed your teeth, jumping back into bed. You grabbed your book, East of Eden, your favorite book, it’s had plenty of wear and tear since you’ve read it so many times but you couldn’t get rid of it or get yourself a new copy.

You picked up where you left off, the story of young Adam Trask and his brother Charles, arguably your favorite and the best part of the book, seeing the dynamic between the two of them, then seeing how Adam grows for the rest of the book.

The door rang as you finished the chapter. You set the book upside down and grabbed your wallet, you checked through the peephole to confirm it was your pizza, as if on cue your stomach was rumbling. You thanked the person and tipped them, the pizza charged to your room.

You settled back into your bed, about to open the pizza when your doorbell rang again. You got up and looked through the peephole.

Tom was standing outside your room, hands in the pockets of sweatpants he was wearing, paired with what looked like an oversized hoodie. Okay, maybe you weren’t underdressed previously. You opened the door, leaning against the frame.

“Hi spoiler king,” you grin.

“Nice to finally meet you spoiler queen.”

“Finally?”

“Yeah, been wanting to meet you since you started filming Black Widow.”

“Didn’t know you knew I existed until a few days ago.”

“Well, surprise,” he laughs, shrugging, “you gonna let me in or should we continue this conversation here?”

“Oh my god sorry I’m such an idiot, come on in,” you say, walking backwards into the room. You feel the heel of your foot hit the back of your suitcase and you can’t stop yourself from falling. Tom rushes forward and catches you, arm around your waist and pulling you back up.

“How in the world are you playing this super spy when you trip over a suitcase?”

You chuckle, blushing as he helps you steady yourself, nudging your suitcase to the side as he closes the door.

“I play a super spy in training thank you very much,” you say as his hand leaves your waist and you quietly miss the feeling of his hand there.

“Well, guess you’re excused then.”

“Do you, want some pizza?” You ask, sitting on the edge of your bed and opening the box.

“Little early for pizza,” he observes.

“Haven’t eaten, in, oh god I don’t even remember, since the night before I got on the plane to come here from LA?” You say, stomach rumbling.

“Then I think you should dig right into that pizza,” Tom says, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you.

“Good plan,” you say, ignoring how awkward you feel and taking a bite of a slice. He grabs your book and reads the title.

“East of Eden, never read it before.”

“I mean I would act all offended because it’s my favorite book but I know that like not a lot of people who have read it. You should though, if you find the time.”

“Yeah this looks long and I’m way too dyslexic to read that without giving up halfway through.”

“Oh shit sorry I had no idea.”

“All good, kinda a running joke with my fans and people.”

“That you’re dyslexic?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, thumb running through the pages.

You finish your pizza, watching his face as he reads the description on the back of the book.

“Stole it from 10th grade English class when I first read it,” you say before picking up another slice.

“Solid,” he laughs, looking at the list of last names written on the front cover along with the year, “Don’t see your name here Sarah.”

“That’s cause I didn’t have a stage name till I auditioned for Black Widow, name’s Y/N, Y/L/N,” you say, pointing to the last name put in the book.

“Oh, well nice to meet you Y/N, do you prefer that over Sarah?”

“Honestly, yeah.”

“Well, Y/N it is.”

You’re silent, you eating your pizza, Tom flipping through your book, laugh at some of the notes you have written in it.

“Cool if I have a piece?” he asks, setting your book down.

“All yours,” you say, gesturing to the pizza box sitting between you.

“So Y/N, how did you enjoy working on the movie? It was your first movie right? Know you beat out some names for the role.”

“Yeah, guess so, don’t know why.”

“Because you were best for the role, obviously.”

“Don’t know why they’d choose a nobody over people like Chloe Grace Moretz,” you shrugged.

“Because you, they saw potential in you, they also love to cast new faces, make newer actors famous,” he says.

Your mind starts to race with reasons why they might’ve cast you and you start to doubt your ability as an actress, because you’ve done theatre, been the lead in shows in your town and region but never movies or TV shows.

“Hey you know, I think you’re quite talented from the clips we’ve seen in trailers.”

“Uh, thanks,” you say, hand rubbing your neck, why are you so fucking awkward?

“So what kinda dress will you be wearing?”

“Huh?”

“To the premiere, so we can match.”

“Oh yeah, yeah lemme send you a picture of it,” you say. You were wearing a pretty dark red dress with black lace adorning the bodice.

“Sweet I’ll see what I can do about getting a matching tie and stuff.”

“Cool, you know it’s nice of you to uh, be my date,” you say, fiddling with your hands.

“Yeah, you know, wanted to see if you’d give me a run of my money.”

“With what?”

“Spoiling stuff.”

“Yeah,” you laugh, “don’t need to worry about that after the movie comes ou- FUCK.”

That definitely wasn’t something he should’ve heard.

You watch as he pieces what you just said together, “oh my god, hey even if that happens, well I think you’ve outdone me.”

“Listen at least I didn’t say that in front of a live audience or something.”

“What am I? A dead audience?”

“No, you’re just one person.”

“Ah that’s right, I don’t count.”

“Nope,” you say, tucking your legs underneath you.

You and Tom hang out and talk about filming, about the movie industry, about your favorite things, it felt like he learned everything about you in the time that you talked.

You stopped yourself a few times, apologizing for rambling.

“It’s fine, like to listen to you talk.”

At some point, you two had set the pizza box on the ground and were lying with your feet swinging off the edge of the bed.

“So, what about you? You excited for what’s to come for Spiderman?”

“Yeah, totally, I mean I want to branch out and do more movies, doing the voice stuff for Onward, the Pixar film; was really cool.”

“Have you done any auditions recently?”

“Some yeah, should hear about them soon.”

“That’s awesome. I honestly don’t know what I’m gonna do after this,” you groan, still unsure why you’re telling Tom any of this.

“Well did you enjoy your time on set? Did you enjoy acting in a film? Enjoy the people you worked with?”

“For the most part yeah,” you say, looking away.

“For the most part? Alright who do you hate? Which actor?”

“No, the actors are all great, I love them. Just, nah it’s stupid,” you sigh, because honestly you had no idea if what happened was weird, if it was out of the ordinary or if that’s just how it was.

“Nothing’s stupid, hey, I might be able to give you a tip to help deal with it.”

“Just, one of the ADs, Jack , he uh, he’d always hug me, like if I did a good job on a scene, he’d just like hug me really tight and uh, like sniff my hair, like press his face right into my hair and like not even ask me if he could hug me which I don’t know, I never stopped him from hugging me I just never hugged back but that’s stupid it’s a stupid thing to have a problem with.”

It’s quiet for a moment and you start to overthink and doubt yourself, doubt why you told him this story. Did Jack make you feel uncomfortable? Yes, absolutely but that’s just how it was, how you figured the industry worked.

“Did he do this in front of everyone?”

“Nah, just on my way back to my trailer or my hotel room or whatever.”

“Does Scarlett know?”

You sit up quickly, looking at him, “no, no she doesn’t. Nobody does it’s stupid I don’t know why I told you.”

“It’s not stupid Y/N, you know, if you want to talk to someone, you should. I can be that person if you want. But if you want you should tell someone higher up, they might be able to do something about it.”

“I don’t, it’s not worth it,” you sigh, laying back down.

“Okay.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?”

“Talking about this.”

“Don’t be.”

“Yeah?”

“Course, it’s just, I've seen a lot of people, young new people who don’t really have any idea of how this industry works, see them getting taken advantage of, whether it’s by asshole directors who don’t know how to teach young people, treat them like, I don’t know, like they’ve got some power over you.”

“Oh, well thanks I guess.”

There’s a very awkward tension now and you have literally no idea how to move past it.

“So now that you know all about me, what’s there to know about you?”

“Well, got three brothers, Harry and Sam are twins, and Paddy is a little younger than me. Got a dog, Tessa, she’s amazing, truly my favorite being on the planet.”

“God I wish I could have a dog, mom’s allergic.”

“You should meet Tessa sometime, she’s a sweetheart. Mum’s a photographer, dad does a bunch of stuff, comedy, writer, blogs, stuff like that.”

“I’d love that.”

You feel his hand brush against yours, meeting between your bodies.

“Oh, sorry,” he says as he feels your hand stiffen under his.

“No, it's just, why?”

“Why what?” He says as your hand holds his hand tightly.

“Why’d you do this?”

“How many times have I told ya Y/N.”

“Just, dunno why you’d care.”

“Can’t help it, I guess, you’re funny, at least from the interviews of you I’ve seen, and you’ve made me laugh bunch today.”

“Yeah counterbalance all the deep shit I told you.”

He laughs, thumb rubbing the skin of your hand, “see? Anyways, I should get going, supposed to have dinner with my brothers but I’ll see you later? Maybe we can hang out while you’re still in London, if you’re not busy being super famous and with press.”

“Yeah, we can always text too if I am. And I’ll see you at the premiere? You can always just not show up, never talk to me again if you don’t want to,” you say, watching as he gets up.

You follow him to the door and he turns to face you.

“Hmm, good offer but I don’t think I will.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah I think it’ll be much more fun to be your date than ditch you, plus I already know what’s gonna happen in the movie so we can sit and be not surprised together.”

“Sorry I spoiled it for ya,” you say, blushing.

“You’re fine, it was nice to meet you Y/N, I’ll see you later,” he says, you don’t even realize your hand is still in his until he lets go, leaving you alone in your hotel room.

“What is wrong with me?” You groan, jumping back into your bed.

****

You and Tom text throughout the week, a lot actually. Sometimes he’ll ask you random questions about your family, about your favorite place to eat back in your hometown.

You’re in a dressing room, just about to go for an interview when he texts you.

Tom: I love learning all this stuff about you, just wish I could hear you talk about it in person

You: why’s that?

Tom: because, when you’re really passionate about something you talk like really animatedly and it’s really fun to watch

You blush, having no idea how to respond you leave your phone there before making your way to the interview.

****

You’re on your way to the premiere, the flight from London just as long and exhausting as the last. You didn’t have much time when you got to LA to relax, you could put your suitcase in your hotel room and go straight to the premiere where you would spend the rest of your time getting ready. People were doing your hair, makeup, helping you into your dress, it was going to be a whole ordeal. For now, you had an hour to yourself in your dressing room, to relax, to breath, whatever you wanted. Tom let you know he’d be there in two or so hours, he didn’t have as much prep as you had. Basically just had to put on clothes and his hair would take less than half the time yours would.

You were nervous, your first premiere, first red carpet or whatever, your mom wouldn’t be able to make it, she was working, always working, but she sent you her love.

You were laying on the couch in your dressing room, scrolling through your twitter feed when you heard a knock on the door. Maybe it was Tom, you got your hopes up a little. Frowning at your leggings and baggy sweatshirt, you didn’t want him to see you until you were all dressed up.

You reluctantly got off the couch, opening the door.

“Oh hi,” you say, as you see Jack standing in front of you.

“Hi,” He smiles, “Can I come in?”

“What?”

“Just wanted to talk to you, congratulate you,” he says and you reluctantly step back from the door, letting him in. He closes the door behind him and you sit down on the couch, setting your phone on the dressing room table. What you didn’t see or hear was the click of the lock as he locked your door.

“You’re going to be a star Sarah, I can make you great,” he says, sitting next to you. His leg was right against yours and you shift away, body pressed up against the side of the sofa until his leg wasn’t touching yours. You didn’t mind that he called you by your stage name, you preferred it actually. That way everything he said wasn’t really directed to you, at least you could pretend it wasn’t.

“You? Why would you be the one to make you great?” You frown, that’s your job, audition, get your name out there.

“I know people, they’ll cast you, like I convinced them to.”

“Huh?” “Saw something special,” he says, and you freeze when his hand rests on your shoulder, “could’ve cast anyone, any big name, but we chose you.” His hand moves to glide up your neck and cup your cheek and your mind is screaming at you, MOVE, SLAP HIM, RUN but you’ve slipped into panic mode, which for you meant you were frozen.

“Wanna make you Hollywood’s next leading lady,” He says, face so close to yours you can smell his very gross breath, your heart is beating out of your chest.

You’re trying to think of something, anything.

You remember something Tom had told you back in the hotel a week ago.

****

“Just, if he’s weird again, don’t just go along with it, push him away, tell him he’s a fucking coward, he doesn’t get to use his position of power over you.”

“I don’t know if that would work.”

“Just try it, okay? Just, don’t let him hold anything over your head.”

****

His lips are pressing against yours and that’s when you use all your strength, breaking from your panic to push him off you, hard enough that he ends up on the other end of the sofa as you jump up.

“Get up! Get out, now.”

****

Tom wanted to surprise you, so he arrived earlier than he said he would, your wrapped present in one hand, he found out where your dressing room would be and made his way to it, frowning when it was locked.

He was about to knock when he heard you, screaming.

“Get the fuck out!”

“Sarah, don’t do this, you’re going to regret this.”

“No, I won’t, I’ll only regret letting you be a fucking creep for this long.”

You and the AD are in a screaming match.

He tries to doorknob again, wanting to break it up before other people heard.

“Come here,” Tom hears the AD say before you yelp, and there’s a clattering and “I’ll blacklist you, no director will work with you. Fucking ungrateful.”

“If you don’t get out now, I will scream at the top of my lungs and tell everyone what just happened.”

“Bitch.”

****

Jack approached you, “come here.” You backed up into the table as he grabbed your arm tightly, causing you to yelp before he presses his lips hard against yours. Your other hand picks up your phone and your knees connects with his crotch as he let’s go of you and stumbles back before slamming you against the mirror, making you cry out as a sharp pain radiates from your head.

“I’ll blacklist you, no director will work with you. Fucking ungrateful.”

“If you don’t get out now, I will scream at the top of my lungs and tell everyone what just happened.”

“Bitch,” he mutters before unlocking the door, swinging it open.

You whimper, sliding down to the ground and gently touching the back of your head, tears welling up in your eyes as he slams the door shut behind him.

That’s not how you expected this to go down. Your eyes widen when you see a little blood on your fingers.

You vaguely hear a knock on the door but you ignore it, arms wrapped around your knees. What a great way to start your first premiere. You’re laughing as tears stream down your face, something that your mom always said was a bad habit of yours.

***

Tom hears the door unlock and he steps to the side, slipping into the hallway next to your dressing room.

“Fucking bitch, who does she think she is?” Jack mutters as he walks past Tom, not even noticing him.

Tom knocks on the door, hearing you crying hurt him, he hated hearing anyone cry. He heard you laughing, it was a laugh verging on hysterical and decided to go in and check on you, just in case.

***

“Y/N.”

You look up through watery eyes and see Tom standing in your doorway, a red gift bag in his hand, eyes wide.

“Fuck,” you say, head dropping back down as you cry.

He quickly closes the door behind him and kneels down next to you.

“Y/N, I, I heard, I’m so fucking sorry, I shouldn’t have eavesdropped but he’s gone now, are you okay? Shit question of course you’re not okay.”

“I’m fine,” you mumble, trying your hardest to smile up at him.

“You don’t have to smile, Y/N.”

“What?”

“Don’t haveta smile for me, you can cry if you want.”

You sniffle, the tears slowly stopping.

“I’m fine,” you repeat, wincing as the pounding in your head brings you back to reality.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, eyes full of concern.

“Just, hit my head a little, it’s nothing,” you say, your hand instinctively reaching for the back of your head to check if it was still bleeding.

“What the fuck did he do to you?” He asks, seeing the blood on your fingers.

“Just shoved me, it’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing, you’re bleeding, lemme get someone.”

“No, please Tom,” you say, voice barely above a whisper, pleading with him.

“Why don’t, why are you going to let this slide?”

“Because I can’t, he’s gonna, he’s gonna blacklist me, won’t get even a small cameo in a movie, he’s gonna ruin me.”

“Hey, no, he won’t, because you won’t let him. You stood up for yourself back there, I heard you. You won’t let him take away everything you’ve worked so hard for, and what you’ll continue to work hard for. Hey, let’s get some ice or something, clean up, see if you need to go to the hospital okay? Don’t want you passing out on me on your first premiere.”

“Promise you won’t tell anyone?”

“Not my story to tell, if you want to, when it’s time you can. There’ll be no pressure from me though,” he says as he helps you stand up. Your legs wobble a little bit and you’re afraid you’re going to fall but his arm is a comforting presence on your waist, steadying you. There’s no malintent in his touch as he soothes you, sitting you down on the couch.

You feel safe as he lets go, crouching down to open the small fridge, grabbing some ice from the freezer section.

“Here, turn around,” he says, nonchalantly ripping off a lower section of his shirt to wrap the ice in.

“Wh-,” you start, turning as his fingers sort through your hair.

“Just looks like a scrape, here,” he says, gently pressing his shirt with ice onto the area, hand rubbing your shoulder as you wince.

“Thank you,” you mumble, glancing at the bag he abandoned on the floor, “What’s that? Clothes all fit in there?”

He chuckles, “no, Issa present, for you, for your first premiere.”

“What? My, why's that, you already gave me a present you’re here with me.”

“Yeah but you deserve an actual present, here, hold the ice in place,” he says, palm over the top of your hand, moving it up to rest against the makeshift ice pack.

He reaches down and grabs the bag, pulling what looks like a wrapped book out of it.

“Was gonna give it to you little later but now’s perfect. Go ahead, open it,” he says, putting it on your lap and replacing your hand with his own on the ice pack.

You gently open the wrapping paper and gasp.

“This is, Tom you didn’t-,”

“Do you like it?”

“Of course I do, I mean, this is, wow this is the best gift anyone could have ever gotten me.”

“Well you only have a first premiere once,” he says, searching your eyes.

“I don’t, I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Don’t haveta thank me darling, why don’t we get ready for tonight?”

“Will, do you think we’ll see Jack?”

“He’d be an idiot not to show up, but hey, maybe you won’t run into him.”

“I like the sound of that,” you say, wiping your eyes.

“What did the stylists say they were going to do with your hair?”

“Think it was just gonna be curled, nothing fancy.”

“Okay well when they get here we’ll tell them no curling that part of your head.”

“Well then I’ll just look stupid.”

“Nah, you’ve got plenty of hair to go around up here,” he laughs, fingers running through the hair resting on your shoulder.

***

“Sarah! Tom! Smile for us! Look at you two!”

Photographers are shouting at them from up and down the red carpet, as Tom and Sarah walk, his arm gently resting on her waist, hers around his shoulder.

“You look lovely,” he whispers into your ear as you continue to walk.

“Not as handsome as you.”

He’s been saying nice things, whispering them to you all night, found it was the best way to make you smile, especially after what happened with Jack. You never did see him on the red carpet that night and didn’t bother asking anyone where he might be either.

***

“Wow,” you say, collapsing on the bed of your hotel room next to Tom.

“Fun right?” He asks.

“I mean, I wasn’t expecting such reactions from the crowd.”

“Yeah? Movie premiere crowds are always the rowdiest. But hey, they cheered, they laughed, they cried, you made one hell of a movie.”

“Guess so, I’m proud of it,” you sigh, gently opening the first edition copy of East of Eden, “how did you even find this?”

“I’ve got connections,” he smiles, watching as your eyes scan the first page, so different from your tattered copy from 10th grade.

“My 10th grade English teacher would lose her mind if I told her I had this. Scared to read from it, just wanna put it in a glass case and stare at it.”

“Well, it’s all yours so you can do anything you want with it.”

“Can’t believe this is all happening.”

“What is?”

“Everything, been my dream since I was a kid, to be famous, and well, yeah,” you sigh, not quite finding the words you’re looking for.

“You know, it might be, like, don’t feel obligated to say yes but would you maybe wanna, I don’t know, go on a date? Not now obviously, I think I could fall asleep right here but I’d like to take you out on a proper date.”

“Yeah? I mean the entire world already thinks we’re dating so sure, I don’t think a public date would hurt or help our cause.”

“Great,” you yawn, turning on your side.

“I should go, so you can sleep,” he says, standing up.

“Stay,” you mumble against your pillow.

He doesn’t respond and your heart almost drops, assuming he’s going to leave. Instead, he crawls into the bed, his arm hesitantly resting on your waist, until you scoot so your back is flush against his chest.

“Goodnight,” you whisper, exhaling, for the first time in over a year and a half you truly felt safe and comfortable falling asleep.

#tom holland #tom holland one shot #tom holland oneshot #tom holland x reader #tom holland x reader insert #tom holland reader insert #song fic #tom holland imagine #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfic #tom holland blurb

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bedbellyandbeyond · 5 years

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Dr Gardi

The flight home seemed faster than the first. The time zones helped as well because heading back to Canada would land them earlier in the day than if they'd travelled the same time in Europe. Due to the time constraint, they hadn't driven and instead took a private jet back to Frankfurt for their international flight. Why they couldn't have done that in the first place, Sydryn's answer was terribly frugal for someone who clearly had accumulated several millions of dollars (at least) in their lifetime. Nevertheless, it was important that they get back faster this time. Yori was called ahead of time so he knew of their arrival. Lino came to pick up his brother, Ruben, and Dusty, while Sydryn had a car waiting for them and Köbi to head to the hospital.

When they got home, Vi and Yori were waiting on the porch with the kids. The pups ran up to the car while Vi was holding Grey, but as soon as Dusty stepped out of the vehicle, Grey immediately called out his name and disappeared, reappearing in Dusty’s arms. Dusty was so stunned, he nearly dropped him, but managed to hold onto him and held him tight. “Grey!” “Daddy! I miss you!” Grey whined, pulling his arms tight around Dusty's neck. His father chuckled incredulously. “You teleported!” “I did?” Grey asked, clearly not registering what he'd just done. “Yeah! You were…” Dusty pointed to Vi. “Has he…Has he done it before?” Vi shook his head. “First time.” “Grey!” Dusty kissed his son's cheek and hugged him tight. “I missed you too, so much…” Dante and Ruben were hoisting their giggling children up in their arms as they walked back to the house. “We missed you so much,” Dante was saying, as he carried Rowan. “You don't even know.” “Are Daddy and Papa still fighting?” Skylar asked. Ruben looked at Dante and smiled. “I think we're okay now. You don't have to worry. We have a lot to talk about though.” “Talking's boring!” Marco stated. “Can we play a game?” “Maybe we'll play a quick game and then we'll talk, okay?” Dante suggested. “Sure,” Ruben agreed. “Does this mean Grey has to go home?” Rowan asked. “Not yet.” Dante motioned for Dusty to come join them inside before walking up the porch to Yori who was waiting for his kisses.

Arriving at the hospital, Köbi and Sydryn were met in the lobby by Aoife. She re-explained what happened when Reid was admitted as she took them up to his room. When they got there, Reid did not look good at all. His usually vibrant red hair was dull and he was a sickly pale, almost blue. He was a skinny as every but his eyes were sunken with fatigue. They had him attached to a ventilator as well as other devices monitoring his health. No one had seen him in worse a shape. “How long has he been out?” Sydryn asked, lifting the doctor's limp hand. “Since he was admitted,” Aoife answered. “No one's been able to wake him.” Sydryn checked Reid's eyes which had rolled back under the lids, and then his mouth which was rather dry. “Has he been carrying on with those occult experiments of his?” “Of course…” Aoife said. “He keeps getting funded…” Sydryn started to strip the doctor down, first examining his muscle mass and then noticing the tattoo under his navel. They rubbed over it with their thumb and grimaced. “You've got to be kidding me… Permanent invitation to be possessed.” Sydryn backed off, and pushed the angel forward. “Köbi, take a look.” “Oh, um… Hello,” Köbi said first waving to Aoife. “I'm Köbi.” “I gathered. Can you help him?” Aoife asked. “I can try,” Köbi said. “Toiling with the after life is serious business, you see… It's complicated and hard to determine the affects on the human body…” Köbi placed a hand over Reid's heart and closed his eyes. “…This body is very damaged… No sleep… No food… Not to mention his soul…His soul is deeply scarred.” “Scarred soul?” Aoife frowned. “What's that supposed to mean?” “It means what it means,” Köbi tried to explain. “A soul can be damaged just like a body. I've never seen anything like this though. Whatever he's been doing should've killed him by now, but he's managed to avoid bodily harm by putting it on his soul… But finally his body has caught up to it and gave out.” “What are you trying to say then?” Aoife asked. “He's going to die?” “He could, I won't lie to you,” Köbi said. “What does he do? How'd he get like this?” “He's been researching ghosts,” Aoife explained. “He got that tattoo because it, um… Well, it lets him get knocked up by ghosts.” “Really?” Köbi pulled his hand away and looked disgusted. “That's absurdly irresponsible! You can't muddle in the affairs of the dead like that! You're just asking to be damned!” “He spends all night working on it,” Aoife went on. “I haven't seen him sleep in weeks. I haven't seen him eat. I figured he was when I just wasn't around…” “No, this body hasn't seen food or sleep in at least a month,” Köbi stated. “Does he take any medication?” “Testosterone, dietary supplements, antipsychotic medication,” Aoife listed. “There are almost no traces of any of those in his system,” Köbi stated. “There's caffeine though. Honestly, he should be dead. I can't even tell what’s keeping him alive.” “Can you do anything?” Aoife asked. “Hmm…” Köbi rubbed Reid's chest in circles. “I think I can wake him up…” His hand started to glow and he placed it on Reid's forehead. The spot where he touched was shone blue for a second or two before fading. Reid suddenly jolted forward and his eyes flew wide awake as he cried out. “Angel!” Sydryn and Aoife drew sighs of relief. Köbi smiled and pat his shoulder. “Rest, Dr. Gardi,” he stated. “What…” Reid blinked at Köbi and then rubbed his eyes, with a shaky hand. “You… An angel. Am I dead?” “Mostly, yeah,” Köbi admitted. “Köbi,” Sydryn snapped, slapping the angel at the back of his head. “Reid, you're not dead. You've neglected your health for the sake of your research and you almost became the ghosts you've been researching. You've been in a coma for three days. So you're going to stay here until you make a full recovery and I am going to run the hospital wing at APID from this time.” “Syd… I cannae just lie here…” Reid murmured. “I'm so close. I actually…I think I saw him…” “Who?” “The soldier…the one that comes back, over an' over…” Reid placed a hand over his stomach. “…I have a boyfriend.” Sydryn rolled their eyes. “Köbi, put him to sleep for now. I'll look over his research and see what he's done to himself…” “My research? No, you can't—” Reid was cut off when Köbi touched his forehead again and he immediately fell back into sleep. Sydryn sighed. “When he took up this research, I didn’t think he'd go this far… I thought you were keeping an eye on him.” Aoife put her hands on her hips. “I tried. He's grown man. What was I supposed to do, force feed him his medication? Strap him into bed? I have a life too.” “Well, I'll monitor him I suppose…” Sydryn stated. “Tomorrow morning, we'll have him transported back to APID. Aoife, you should take a few days off, I think. Köbi will assist me.” “Don't mean to be rude, but are you even a medical professional?” Aoife asked the angel. “No, not really… But I can help people,” Köbi said. “As long as Syd tells me what to do, I'm alright.” Sydryn placed a hand on Aoife's shoulder. “You need to take a break. Reid has caused you too much stress. Relax. Spend some time with your girlfriend. I'll need you back soon, but you do need time.” Aoife sighed. “You're right… I've spent too much time being this stupid fool's mother…” She pushed Reid's hair out of his face and fluffed his pillow. “Alright, I'm done.” “Good.” Sydryn looked to Aoife and smiled. “Honestly, I have to thank you for calling me. I didn’t think I’d ever have a good reason to leave that god forsaken hell hole.” “Don’t mention it. We needed you,” Aoife said. “How’s my brother?” “I’m pretty sure his massages made one of my guests fall in love with him,” Sydryn stated. Aoife nodded. “Sounds like Aodhán…” She fixed her hair and grabbed her bag. “Alright, I’m heading out. Good luck with the Scot.” “Thank you. Don’t worry about us. We’ll be taking good care of him.” “Good. Good night.” “Night.”

#lore #Reid #Köbi #Sydryn #Aoife #Dusty #Dante #Ruben #Grey #Vi #Skylar #Marco #Rowan #Lino

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alexsmitposts · 4 years

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Shifting Business Models of Higher Education I suspect some colleges and universities will go under in the wake of COVID 19, as they faced with bankruptcy and are having to deal with lower enrollments too. It might be a good time for military recruiters, at least in the US. The capitalist model is in dire straits, some claim is even falling, especially the business model for higher education. But it is it really worth obtaining higher education, especially now. Tuition and other costs are high and the job market is restricted, and why pay top dollar for distance learning? Against this backdrop, President of Brown University, Christina Paxson, recently wrote in the New York Times that reopening universities in the fall should be a national priority. After all, students face practical, financial, and psychological barriers when it comes to remote learning; the sector provides about 3 million jobs, and education spending pumps near $600 billion into the national GDP. The basic business model for most colleges and universities is simple — tuition comes due twice a year at the beginning of each semester. Most colleges and universities are tuition-dependent. Remaining closed in the fall means losing as much as half of our revenue. Going deep in debt for it! One friend who is completing an MA degree wrote to me, “I am working from home at a Midwestern university has not yet re-opened. Don’t know what the future will hold – the university must take a $5 million budget cut this fiscal year and another $25 million budget cut next fiscal year (beginning July 1st). Don’t know yet how they are going to do it – some talk about early retirements but if they don’t get enough “takers” then probably layoffs.” Recent history, especially in a US presidential election year has many people and policymakers asking hard questions. It is becoming clear that anyone keeping up with U.S. higher education in recent months will see that the sector is bracing for disaster with application dates coming, usually by May. Students and parents are both stressed out over how to pay for it, especially at higher tier universities and in light of the reduction in family incomes due to unemployment and a slowed economy. One article makes it only too clear, A Global View of the Pandemic’s Effect on Higher Education, that university funding model that rely on international students for revenue will now have to brace themselves for tough financial times ahead and some are even in the danger of collapse because of travel restrictions. Nearly one-fifth of all international students study in the United States, and of our total enrollment, they makeup around 5 per cent and contribute over 44 billion to the US economy. These students usually pay full tuition, which can average over 35,000 USD a year and another USD 15,000 to USD 20,000 as living expenses. Many funding models depends largely on foreign students to balance their books as they pay full tuition, and are less likely to be funded by scholarships and other university resources. The paper chase impacts many segments of the economy, for instance, the University of Kentucky, this past year, landlords got big dollar signs in their eyes and jacked up rent twice and triple-fold, as student enrollments were at a record high. Now that they kicked out some of their renters, when their leases were up, demanding higher prices, and now they are losing money; tongue in cheek, it serves the greedy pigs right. Karl Marx Lectures There is hidden karma with capitalism too. Greedy landlords (at least sometimes) get their asses kicked when recession comes from around the corner without warning. One landlord kicked out a friend of mine, who had to move in with his girlfriend at his house. He has two kids. He’s good at repair and even remodeling houses and apartments, so that landlord doesn’t know what he lost…and now I don’t think he’ll be able to get double-rent payers. Just a few weeks before the shutdown, real estate was at a feverish all-time high. Houses prices were sky-high, all 1/4-million-USD in Lexington, and selling immediately. A friend in real estate was trying to push me to buy (but buy what? with what income?)–he said people were snapping them up as soon as they went to market. I knew it was all going to crash and burn and told him that I’ll only buy (and I’ll only be able to afford to buy) when there’s blood on the streets. That may be coming soon if jobs don’t return, and I doubt they will anytime soon. All Things Considered Things could definitely be worse, however for most, despite inconveniences, all things considered with some social benefits and support from government. They have their classes, or work on campus as teaching assistants; they have their stipend, many graduate students, and the supermarkets nearby have plenty to eat. Some have to teach from home, the social life and campus activities have come to an abrupt halt. Many teaching and professional qualification examinations have been cancelled in light of the circumstances, and this may cause extra problems later on when tests results are needed and graduates must come back and sit for them. COVID-19 has indeed hit institutions of higher education unexpectedly, as it has all colleges and universities across the United States and World. It came for many right around spring break – students were asked to consider not returning, and then were told outright that that would be it for the semester, much unexpected, very awkward, and especially worrisome for two populations. One is international students. This came up as an issue across the country. Where could foreigners turn in such circumstances? Some had flown home, and had to accustom themselves to remote participation during uncomfortable time zones. Some received special permissions to stay on campus. And some were not able to come back because of shutdowns in flights and over public health concerns. A lot of creativity has gone into handling this point. The second is graduating students. Unfortunately, their final weeks as students, with all the rituals that entail – from parties to formal ceremonies – all went in another direction. It must be emphasized that universities have been accommodating and have kept the interests of their students at the forefront. Normal job fairs are not being held on campus, as before, and the recruitment of new blood is another issue that will affect the business community. At the same time, there is only so much a university can do if it is constrained by public health concerns, budgetary restrictions, and government orders – more so when one considers public universities, and private universities and colleges of size and a scale. A professor was sharing some thoughts the other day (via Zoom, of course) about the model of the university going forward. It will be a different experience for future generations, he speculated, with mixed methods of teaching and learning. The classic seminar of sitting around a table and discussing may go out of style. Another professor contended that her experience coming into a university and making personal connections around a table was what changed her life. There will be a lot of discussions like this about the trade-offs in style and substance in the coming months, possibly years. Financial models of universities will probably have to be re-imagined, for better or for worse. What is of immediate concern is how to move forward in the fall. Most are working to publish their plans, at least contingency plans by mid-June. Presumably, other universities, other than the earlier examples, are going along the same pace as well in order to give enough lead time to prepare, both for themselves and for their students, faculty, and staff. Students too are reconsidering the opportunity costs of even attending a university. Some are opting to stay closer to home and pursue degrees on a part-time basis and continue with their lives the best they can during uncertain times. Education, like many other institutions, has become nothing but another huge over-bloated scam and the return on investment is not as much as it is touted. The situation that is described here is not limited to the US or a specific region of the world. The main problem when it comes to UK universities is that the crisis had already started years ago, and all of this madness adds up to previous issues. The Oxbridge model is immensely expensive, and the main ways to sustainability – research funders, international students, the endowment, the press, executive education, and commercial activity – will all decline at a time when their costs will increase. As you probably know, in 2017 Oxford exposed itself to 100-year bonds for GBP 1 billion to avoid privatization; it worked, and they raised the debt to 3 billion. However, a shift in conditions will make the interest rate higher – how do you pay when things go wrong? It is just impossible to take on more debt, for students and institutions of higher education alike. Going on the market is a short term fix but not a solution. Conversely, the most flexible and affordable universities in Europe are those like the Open University (or Oxford, which has earned a reputation with online learning, and has even more potential) and will continue and improve their performance. Others are investing a lot in distance learning, such as Exeter. However, the terrible combination of the COVID emergency plus Brexit (ergo, losing the generous EU funds for research as well as the most skilled European students and lecturers) will make British Universities empty, and go bankrupt. UK Universities make money with post-graduate overseas students since Chinese and Asian people come here with very little English (not to say about their study skills) but willing to pay a fortune to get a piece of paper. Once back home, they can spend their qualifications very easily and get high positions. If students don’t come or go somewhere else, the whole system fails. There are several things UK and international universities can do, one is the Nottingham University Modelo, which has opened branches overseas. And instead of running after learners to come to the UK, learners can find branches close to home. Another option is to create partnership with other institutions so that they can add cherry onto the cake. For instance, additional lectures or certificate programmes, or by providing summer programmes around the world. Another one is aiming at blended programs, which is quite hard since the competition from European universities will become unbearable. In countries such as the Netherlands, Germany, Belgium or Austria you can find some of the best institutions in the world with a spotless reputation (I am thinking, for instance, to Groningen or Berlin) which are nearly free! How can you compete with that? It’s looking grim on enrolment but to be honest, we are all just waiting to see how many show up. A major challenge is international students – embassies are just not going to process visas. So we will have students who will be stuck here in the US and many who won’t be able to get here. It’s going to be a very large loss on top of lower domestic US numbers. I suspect many students will take a gap year and see what transpires rather than do more online courses. For me, this situation is a real opportunity to radically rethink society. From that, I realize we need to really look at future-proofing and building a truly resilient society. Just like after WW II there was a progressive and radical rebuilding of society, and I think that’s what is needed now- a few bailouts will not be enough It looks that we know what to do but the leadership is lacking. I think the idea that after all of this madness there might be a restart is shared by many, but is misleading at the same time. Provided that giving things another go makes sense, we have to remember that one thing is a contingency and one is the social system we are all in – something that is very difficult to modify in the short term.

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bastardsunlight · 5 years

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//LONG-ass headcanon sesh for D, Alucard (Hellsing) and Adrian (CV’s Alucard) all kinda rolled into one.

So, since I don’t have radiantDecay anymore, I’ve sort of pulled back from the verse where Adrian BECOMES D. There was a lot of movement and timeline adjustment that had to happen for that one, and while it is in some way still possible, I’m not terribly interested in upkeeping a unique interpretation for a character that’s never really going to come into play. If you’re writing with D, it’s thousands of years after he was Adrian. If you’re writing with Adrian, it’s pre-1999 pretty much.

So, I have some documents someplace that I had written regarding D’s origins. The novels heavily imply that he’s somehow enhanced—y’know the movies hint at him just being super powerful Mary Sue turbo ultra dhampir simply because he is the son of “Our Sacred Ancestor” whomst we all pretty much know is Dracula himself right? Certain novels even hint that Mina Harker is his mother, if they don’t just outright state it. It might be the clunky translation (they really should have been more carefully transliterated because WOW some of those sentences just… don’t), but thus far it’s not been made CRYSTAL PERFECT CLEAR. However, I’m more than willing to run with that idea.

Dracula is, by the time Mina et. Al. come up against him, quite old, nigh ancient. I think that the Dracula of the Bram Stoker novel is or, rather, was the historical Vlad III Dracula Tepes (the impaler), born in the 1420s, “died” in the 1470s, iirc. Supposedly, the sultan at the time… Mehmed Fatih, kept his head in a box for a while before pinning him up on the walls of Constantinople, which the Turks controlled at the time. Ugly period in history for Eastern Europe… With Wallachia and Transylvania, in particular, two kingdoms in Romania, times were triple trouble. They were sandwiched between the Ottoman Empire to the east, then west was Eastern Orthodox Christendom—further west was Roman Catholicism and if you think THOSE guys didn’t fight, ding dong ur wrong!

BUT this period of violence produced one of the most well-known and controversial heroes (sometimes called a war criminal) of all time. Also he had a great ‘stache. Now when I write Hellsing’s Alucard, I roll with this same lore, so D and that Alucard could absolutely exist in the same ‘verse. It’s kind of a “darkest timeline” deal, a world in which the Belmont clan never existed. Before that even, Lisa never made Dracula’s acquaintance so the guy’s motivations are a little different. In addition, he is NOT Mathias Cronqvist, a tactician during the first crusades in 1090 AD. In that case, he would have revamped (PUN) his whole personality and integrated himself into one of the other great houses of Wallachia/Transylvania and re-emerged four hundred years later as Vlad the Impaler. That could work fine—not like he hasn’t got time—and that would have been around the time he met, and lost, Lisa. Now whether THAT part of history looks the same is dubious, since Vlad’s exploits during the period of his reign/deposition/reign/deposition/beheading are pretty decently documented. In this case, I’m going to say the Belmonts’ existence is in a timeline where those conflicts also may have played out differently. As these are all fictional worlds, I guess this’s up to ME atm. Nice.

So this is part “how I write D” and part “how I’d be inclined to write Alucard (Hellsing) in interactions that take place BEFORE the manga—like WAY before”. Since Adrian would have been a major contributing factor to the Belmonts’ strength from Trevor onward (so in the games idk if folks know this, but Adrian is Trevor’s father, with Sonia Belmont being his mom), that would also have contributed, at least in part, to the ability of the Belmonts to stomp Dracula and his minions.

With D, there is no need to include Mathias and his ebony/crimson stone conundrum, which does tend to throw a small monkey wrench in the ol’ gears (but not big enough I can’t adapt, trust me). The difference, aside from lack of Belmonts, is the origin of vampires. Clearly, they’re a magical construct or a spell-woven form of sentient life in Castlevania. In Vampire Hunter D, it’s heavily implied (once again, not outright stated) that the Nobility, some of them anyway, are simply a mutation of humanity (Dark Gene vs Light Gene, Lina’s whole deal, among other passages here and there), who also happen to be allergic to garlic, crucifixes, running water, and basic-ass Bram Stoker weaknesses. They’ve even got labs full o’ Nobles tryin’a conquer the sun issue.

So to know D, we gotta know his dad first. At the beginning, Vlad III is born to (big surprise) Vlad II. He and his brother are sent to Edirne as part of the Ottoman Empire’s “tribute” of however many young boys from noble houses, to be trained in the ways of Islam and Turkish mannerisms, etc. This is more for pacification of that region of Europe, which is still Eastern Orthodox, than it is for real “peace”. It’s “peace because you guys are a good buffer zone between us and the rest of Eastern Orthodox-dom”, anyway. Every _voivode_ of Wallachia has to swear allegiance to either the Ottoman Empire or to the Eastern Orthodox church. While most of that area is EO, it’s in their best interest to swear to the Ottoman Empire. They’re bigger and closer. Vlad’s dad has done some underhanded shit, but he’s also a member of the Order of the Dragon and has propelled it to new heights within the EO and that’s where Vlad gets his name: Dracula, which is Son of the Dragon. So Vlad II’s immediate family are known as the Draculesti, which is fucking cool—it’s like “children of the dragon” and that’s not even his like, NAME name—it’s a frickin’ nickname, or sobriquet, as is Tepes.

In the world of Vampire Hunter D, vampirism appears to be a genetic phenomenon—ironically, a mutation. No Noble is going to admit that, OBVIOUSLY. And while it’s true, they were probably born that way, they’re still a mutant human derivative. Rather than mutating due to radiation or whatevermstthefuck like the actual mutants in VHD, they’re just born that way. So what I’m rolling with is Vlad III was born with that particular mutation and, kind of like my OC Toby, who is also a genetic vampire, it takes a violent or unnatural death to trigger the actual symptoms, else you’re just a normal-ass person. In fact, in this interpretation, I’m going to say that maybe quite a few people are BORN with that mutation, but if they live to a ripe old age and die, it never triggers. Most likely, the body is too enfeebled to handle it, maybe it dies after menopause/andropause? Either way, the body has broken down too much and there’s no material to work with.

That might also go a long way to explain the animosity many old vampires have toward humanity. Sometimes it’s straight up contempt, of course, but every single time, it seems to be a removal. Carmilla is a good example. Most of the time, her backstory involves a vicious assault that might very well have killed her. Imagine dying that way and waking back up to find that you had to KEEP living in the world that did this to you, that death is FAR far off. I can understand being VERY PERTURBED, to put it mildly. By the same token, what about war? How many folks die in war? Thousands? Millions? Of all those, how many have the mutation? Probably quite a few. Some folks might not figure out what’s going on and stay where they are, buried for decades, before just wasting away without sustenance—Vampires DO require blood, after all, to keep doin’ their thing. Plenty more are probably just torched in the sun. Since they were KIA, it might be rough finding their bodies in the first place…

So Vlad is beheaded—now this part intersects VERY well with Hellsing’s Alucard in my portrayal—and Mehmed Fatih keeps his head close at hand for a bit, probably talking to it. What happens when it starts talking back? We know Dracula has some SERIOUSLY kickass abilities and putting himself back together would definitely be one of ‘em, in my humble opinion. Mehmed dies not long after he achieves “victory” over Vlad the Impaler and no one knows where Vlad’s remains are. Maybe they up and walked the fuck away, hm? Maybe it was HE who ensured Mehmed’s destruction. How poetic would THAT be? Spoiler alert ||very||.

Now imagine going through everything he did—the guy had a tumultuous life. He might be one of the few, lucky ones who figure out that sunlight is a no-go, hide himself away, eventually go back to haunt his castle in the mountains between Transylvania and Wallachia. Now fast forward to the 1800s, MODERN TIMES (heehee okay) and one very ambitious realtor who wants to sell a creepy old abbey to some weird foreigner. Seems legit. Anyway by now we can see that Dracula’s gotten kinda nutty? He has three scary “wives” but he doesn’t seem to care much for ‘em. They’re obviously vampires, too, though I cannot recall if they’re turned by him or if they’re LIKE him—anyone who’s read it recently, do feel free to refresh me.

He’s kinda senile and while he’s crafty, he’s outsmarted by a dandy, an ancient-ass doctor, a dude who cannot stop fainting, a man named Quincey (my husbando), and Jack Seward—nuff said. He has some kind of congress with Mina, though ofc it’s the Victorian age so the only penetration is that of his li’l toofers on her poor neck. Nom. I don’t think Dracula banged Mina Harker. I think that, in THIS world, a dhampir is a nigh-impossibility, because at this point (and their cool-ass vampire science might’ve changed this), vampires are The Undead™ and therefore cannot CREATE LIFE. Not even if they have a raging turboner (that’s a turbo boner, for those of u not in the know). So he bit Mina, but before he did that, Mina married Jonathan—like as soon as he got home. They were married and living together and doing the frickle frackle, presumably, before Drac shows up in London to mess up their day.

In this case and for the sake of sanity, to create a dhampir, the vampire must chew on a pregnant lady. The curse lifts from her when the master is killed, but his blood has already entered and changed the child; the process is much longer and more involved for an adult human, who has an immune system and much more ground to cover. If the smol bean was in embryo stage or even fetal, it had no defense and mom’s body provided it with everything, Dracula’s blood, included. The final set of letters in Dracula mentiones a young boy, Jonathan and Mina’s son, Quincey, named after their fallen friend. So little Quincey is a dhampir!

Now, a bitten vampire cannot, in this universe, turn anyone else. They can feed and create thralls, but they can’t make VAMPIRES. In Hellsing lore, if a vamp bites you and you’re a virgin, you become one—if not, you become a ghoul/zambolio thingamajigger. Integra narrates this for us pretty early on. But it’s not Alucard’s venom doing this. It’s the vicar of Cheddar Village, who is a manufactured vampire. He’s not a true vampire, not like Alucard. Now, Alucard DOES ask Seras if she’s a virgin ‘fore he kills and bites her, which makes sense… IF HE LOVED MINA.

Hear me out. So, he saw this strong-ass bitch and thought “goddamn I’m sick of my whiny, vicious wives UGH I need me a woman like that”. So he’s gunna turn her. It probably takes longer since he hasn’t been powered up by Hellsing and their dark science-magic shit, or whatever it was… OR as he chomps on ‘er, he realizes “well fuck me she’s preggo, so even if she changes, I can’t have her”. Pregnant blood has GOTTA taste different, all those hormones and shit, even early on. I think he did have some weird admiration-affection for her. His arrogance and greed, however, has taken him over, so perhaps he decides to change her slow, to make the fellas suffer. They’ve fucked with him so he’s gunna fuck with them, but I think it pains him a little to do so, because lbr Mina’s the woman of his dreams.

So when Quincey is born, he’s perfect, healthy, rosy-cheeked, and by god only Mina knows something’s amiss. Damned if she’s going to say shit to Jonathan, who’s liable to faint, the absolute fucking walnut. They live fairly well, having taken over the real-estate business from their wonderful, generous, dead benefactor.

Much like Carmilla’s weirdo ghost, however, Dracula’s spirit absolutely lives on.

TL; DR D was born Quincey Harker.

#aboutdmeta #aboutadrianmeta #aboutalucardmeta

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financiallymint · 6 years

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Students, Please Take a Gap Year

Tired of college? Take a gap year

Yes I know, a gap year is traditionally known as a gap between high school and college. But more and more often now, people are taking gap years in the middle of their college years and before getting a job. I think it’s pretty awesome (yes I did take a gap year).

So what exactly do I mean by gap year? No matter when you’re taking it, it normally involves not studying for one entire academic year. This means you have one year to go out and experience the world. Some people go to a completely different country to work, some go traveling, some do volunteering, etc. It varies from person to person; you choose to what to do for an entire year!

Gap years shake you up a bit. They throw you into the real world, into a world where Mum and Dad aren’t always there to fix your problems and help you meet people. A world where you have to feed yourself, wash your own laundry and find a place to live. An exciting first step into the adult world.

Here are some other reasons every student should take a gap year:

It’s a break from studying

You’ve just spent around 13-18 years sat on a chair staring at a wall. It’s time for some movement. And I don’t mean getting up at 6 am to go for a hike – I mean getting out there. Getting out of your comfort zone and leaving your house, your town and even your country behind.

Studying hardens the mind. You get accustomed to learning through books, lectures and tutorials. You believe that there is one way to study and educate yourself and that’s what will get you your degree, your job and your future. Well nope. Education doesn’t just come from books, it also comes from people, from culture, from places. And taking a gap year helps you realise that there is a lot more to life than just studying and working.

You get to see the real world

My trip to China was the first time I ever left Europe. At first I was extremely excited: I was finally free and traveling the world. Then I got to China – everyone looked different, no one spoke English and I knew nobody. For the first time, I got scared. Fast forward 5 months and I made an amazing group of friends, spoke a bit of Chinese and had could use chopsticks like a ninja.

What I’m saying is that a gap year that throws you into another culture is the best way to get a good look at what the ‘real world’ is and compare it to your own culture. It’s like a reality wake up call.

Wait, not everyone eats with knives and forks? And not everyone cares about the Holocaust (there are Nazi symbols everywhere in China)? And people earn that amount of money in the corporate world?

When you start to understand that different people live in different ways, you realise you don’t have to be like everyone back home. You realise that you don’t even have to follow society’s standards if you don’t want to. Reality is that everyone’s different, and there is no ‘right’ way to live.

This is great help if you do your gap year after college – it will give you more ideas on your future, what you see yourself doing for the next 5 years and what it is you actually enjoy doing.

Develop cool skills

Not only could you learn a new language and some cultural knowledge, but learn some great social skills.

Before my gap year I was this shy, insecure girl who had a lot of pent up frustration, sadness and ignorance inside of her. I had no idea what I was doing, what I wanted to do, what was right and what was wrong. During my gap year I learnt how to talk to strangers, how to make good friends and survive completely on my own.

Moving to another country to work/travel/volunteer helps you build the skill of adaptation, of coping with language barriers and making new friends. You need to learn how to deal with this new currency, new living arrangements and different type of work. You suddenly realise you need to go out there and meet people. At first it’s scary, but then you realise that they’re just like you: trying to make friends.

This helps build confidence. You know how to talk to strangers, how to have a conversation and build a relationship. A very valuable skill, no matter which degree or job you’re going into.

Learn about the stranger

Who’s the stranger? You.

I knew nothing about myself before taking a gap year. I didn’t care, I didn’t want to know, a part of me was even slightly ashamed I existed. Traveling and working for one year taught me more about myself than the 17 years of my life.

Why? You learn how you respond to different situations and how you deal with them. You learn what kind of people you’re attracted to, what you appreciate in a culture and what gets you excited. And best of all, you learn what you want/need to improve on. ‘Oh, so I get awkward talking to other young people on planes. Next plane ride, I’m doing it!’

All these years of school separates the student from their identity. Too many times you’re just a number, a person who will get x grades and will graduate on x year to then go and work at x job. But you’re much more than that; you’re someone who has thoughts, opinions, ideas and dreams. And taking that gap year will help you develop those.

I didn’t know I was into finance until someone I met in Shanghai recommended me a book (Rich Dad Poor Dad), which I then read in one night and immediately proceeded to change my life. What if I hadn’t gone to Shanghai? What if I hadn’t taken a gap year? This website wouldn’t exist, and neither would many of my current ambitions.

And you know how important it is to get to know yourself: you are the person who will be getting a job! You are the person who will have a life and enjoy it! Better get to know that person before it gets old and doesn’t care.

Stand out

You’ve developed all these amazing skills, you’ve seen amazing places and you now know what you want to work/study in. You can’t say that won’t be attractive to an employer.

If you were working/volunteering abroad, it will look great on your CV. It demonstrates that you have developed the skills I mentioned before: ability to adapt, ability to try something new, ability to be different. These are all skills companies value and will take into account. And if you feel they won’t, I wouldn’t apply for that company in the first place (boring!).

More and more people are taking gap years in the UK, so you may be thinking ‘how do I stand out if everyone else is doing them?’. That’s the beauty of gap years: you get to choose how to do it. No two gap years will be identical – everyone will learn different lessons, will develop different skills and will come back a different person. So don’t worry about not standing out.

Amazing relationships

The last but not least amazing thing about gap years is the relationships you will make.

In my case, it was with other expats. We’re all trying to survive in this unfamiliar country with a completely different language, habits and writing. It creates very strong bonds with people, and I’m still in contact with many of my friends from over there.

No matter what you decide to spend your gap year doing, you will meet a huge variety of people, because you’re traveling! This huge variety means that you’re more likely to meet someone you get on really well with, creating a long lasting friendship.

The strange situations you find yourself in, the funny experiences, these are all things that build strong relationships with people. And these are the friends who help you get to know yourself, who will help you develop your opinions, ideas and dreams. And they may even go on to help you find a job (#networking). Keep those friends.

have friends so you can take cringe pictures like these

I haven’t met a single person who says they regret taking their gap year. Everyone gets something valuable from that year off, whether on purpose or not. You finish that year refreshed, with a new set of skills, a better understand of what you want to do and with great memories and friends. For this reason I say: PLEASE take a gap year. Do it for yourself – you’ll be forever grateful.

Did you take a gap year? Are you considering taking one?

Read more like this over at Financially Mint

#gapyear #financialeducation #university

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tuellertrails · 3 years

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It’s hard to put into words what our first week on trail has been like, but I’ll try.

Tiring. Hot. Cold. Amazing. Beautiful. Adventure. Ouch. Hungry. Thirsty. Dirty. Smelly.

There you have it!

Starting out the PCT was an emotional experience. It was surreal hiking those first few miles, and then it just sinks in “oh right, this is just hiking. And hiking is just walking. And walking is tiring. Wow it’s hot. Wait, how am I already this dirty?” We only made it about .3 miles when we came upon a little campground with some trail angels that we talked to briefly. One of them was an older man with long white silver hair and blue eyes named Legend who apparently is a triple crowner (has hiked the PCT, AT and CDT). He told us to put our hands towards the trail and then grab some air and cup it into a ball in our hands. He said we had grabbed a little piece of magic from the PCT and it is carried in all the hikers who had gone before us and that we were all connected. He told us to hold it up to our hearts to absorb, but being the brilliant nurse that I am, I held it to the right side of my chest instead of the left, so I guess that means the magic went into my rib cage instead. I’m not an expert in PCT magic 🤷🏻‍♀️ so who knows how it will affect me. Magic ribs? Time will tell. He also told us to take another piece of PCT magic and put it in our pocket to give to a friend. I will sell mine to the highest bidder. Authentic PCT magic, hard to come by, Bitcoin will be accepted as a trade.

Hiking has been very physically exhausting for me, more than I expected to be honest. We’re going about 2-2.3 miles per hour at this point, and have done 10-16 miles per day. We wake up between 6-7 AM, pack up our stuff and head out. Generally we eat breakfast at our first break of the day after 3-4 miles, and I’ve found that I need a break about every 3 miles. If we can get to a great spot for lunch, we will generally take at least an hour and sometimes more if it’s in the heat of the day. We try to stop hiking between 5-6 pm, so we can have time to set up camp, make dinner, roll out our feet and sore muscles, and write in our journals before bed. We are very tired every night, but sometimes we don’t sleep very well if it’s windy or very cold. I always take my trusty Benadryl and sleep better with it!

The hardest part for me so far has been the wear and tear on my feet. The biggest mistake I made at the start was not putting inserts in my shoes. My feet have been in a lot of pain and I’ve had to take more breaks to roll them out to continue hiking. No matter how tired I am, I have to roll out my feet at the end of the day or they fee pretty rough the next day. I’ve also been dealing with some blisters and some chafing, so basically everything hurts! Doing miles on miles every single day is a lot of work, and we are sore every day. Other hikers that we’ve met who have done other thru hikes assure us that we will get our trail legs (eventually) but it’s going to take about 3 weeks

Ok, enough complaining!! We have met some amazing people. Landon’s cousin Justin hiked out with us the first day and it was fun to give him a taste of the trail. There was a small group of people that we started with who have been a bit faster than us and are now ahead of us on the trail, but maybe we’ll run into them again!

We met a mother and son duo named Chris and Pat. Pat is a psychologist at a University and counsels students. She was the nicest friendliest little lady and I immediately liked her. Chris, her son, works in film media and is trying to become a landscape photographer. They were both lovely but Pat can't go very fast so I'm not sure we'll see them again, but we're following each other on Instagram now.

We’ve spent quite a bit of time with a small group of hikers, hiking and also hanging out with them in Julian (where we are taking our first zero day, no hiking and only lots of resting, eating and socializing). Half of them are not American which is exciting! Florian is from Germany and is a super interesting guy. He works for Google and has lived in Australia, the UK, and most recently in San Francisco. We talked about the differences between Germany and Europe, some about politics (how crazy American politics are compared to relatively boring German ones), gun control, Mental illness and lack of resources in America, our messed up healthcare system, the largeness of Australian huntsman spiders, and a whole bunch of other things. Lauren is from Canada and loves to quiz you about geography and ask fun questions. Today she asked "which animal most represents the place that you live?" Landon and I debated for a while and decided on a big horn sheep 🐑. She and Florian met on the JMT and are hiking together as friends as they both have significant others. She is always scavenging for everyone’s extra food and someone suggested that her trail name be Trash Panda (people give each other “trail names” on thru hikes, and then that’s how people introduce themselves. We haven’t gotten ours yet but it’s only a matter of time). I don’t think she accepted that trail name though 😂

 Another woman from the group is from Germany named Silke who is a bit more shy but still friendly, and man is she fit. She just blazed past us on the trail today. We also gave her a piece of pop tart and some skittles to try, and she hated both, which was very funny to watch her disgusted reaction. She hasn’t built up the junk food tolerance that we have I suppose, it takes years to build and I started very young! Carolina is from the Czech Republic, and has a great sense of humor. I can’t imagine the kind of bravery it takes to go to a foreign country where you know no one and the language spoken isn’t your first language, and taking on a monumental task like hiking the PCT. It’s pretty incredible and I have a lot of respect for all the hikers, but especially the foreign ones. We took a picture yesterday before Carolina had showered and she said “I look so dirty and crazy!” 😂 I ask just about everyone “what does your family think of your coming out to do this?” and the most common answers include “they don’t really get it...” and “They think I’m crazy.”

Otter is a 58 year old guy who was in the airforce for 30 years and has spent the last 5 years of his retirement hiking and traveling. He hiked the Appalachian Trail in 2019. Otter said that he decided to hike the AT initially because he read a story of a guy in his town who hiked it when he was 18. The guy had to ask permission from the board of education in Virginia to graduate high school early in order to hike it, and they told him no, so he quit high school and did it anyways. Otter told us that he read that and it stuck with him, and he made it a goal of his to hike the AT someday. He said it took 35 years, but he always remembered that guy and wanted to do it. Just goes to show that you never know what kind of impact you can have on the people around you! He has been very kind to us and let us come to the Airbnb that he had rented to do laundry and shower when we got into Julian, and we have used the Airbnb as a hangout zone for our whole group yesterday and today, which has been great. After showering and having clean clothes, we almost felt like normal people 😂. In Mt Laguna at mile 42, we showered in a campground bathroom and washed our laundry in the shower like the hiker trash we now are. Real food from a restaurant and a cold drink from a trail angel (people that provide food/drinks/rides to hikers) is also incredible. When you’re living so minimally, the little things are a big deal!

Lastly we have Brandon, who I met on Instagram last year and was also supposed to hike the trail but canceled due to Covid. He ended up getting a permit for this year too and started the day after us (coincidentally he is also a travel nurse). Last night, after hanging out at the Airbnb, We camped behind the Julian Market (they allow PCT hikers to camp there) and Brandon came too. At 5:30 in the morning after just settling back down into his sleeping bag after getting up to pee, he hears a voice say “oh good, you’re up. I really need someone to talk to.” He looks over and sees this strange girl that he doesn’t know (and wasn’t there when we went to bed) who is wrapped up in her sleeping bag. He says “Oh, um..are you ok?” And she says “I have no pants”. And proceeds to tell him that she ripped her hiking shorts and didn’t carry any warm sleeping clothes because they were too heavy. He tells her that she needs to have warm base layers if she is going to continue hiking (and not die) and that she can pick some up at the gear store in town. She tells him that she asked the guy she was hiking with if she could come and cuddle with him and he told her no, so she knocked on some random strangers window at 3 AM and asked for a ride from Mt Laguna to Julian, and the stranger gave her a ride (and luckily didn’t murder her). So that’s how she ended up on that back porch in Julian, possibly staring at Brandon for hours and willing him to wake up to tell him this. Apparently she talked to him for about 45 more minutes and at some point said that she was waiting for her meds to arrive. He said “Maybe you should call your family?” And she said “no way! They’ll freak out” 😬. Landon and I were returning from using the bathroom and we walked right past them, I thought that they knew each other somehow and somehow missed the pleading desperation in Brandon’s eyes to help him in this incredibly awkward 5:30 AM conversation with this random girl. Eventually she ended up going to the pie shop across the street and sitting in there to get warm and charge her phone. Long story short, I really hope that girl is ok, because hiking the PCT is hard enough as it is without having any warm pants. Also, hiking is not a replacement for a support system and therapy. Be safe and get mentally healthy before you hike!!

One last funny story. This morning we were eating at a diner when the waitress came over to take our order. She looked at me hesitantly and said “Um...I’m not sure how to handle this...you have a spider on your hat.” I yelped and threw my hat on the table. She grabbed my hat and took it outside and gently shook it off and de-spidered it for me before bringing it back to me 😥. What a good lady!! Please tell people if they are wearing spiders and help them out. I guess I am just becoming one with nature now.

Anyways, this is long enough, but I just want to say that we’ve had lots of great experiences, seen beautiful scenery, and met awesome people. Even though this is incredibly hard, it’s such a cool adventure and I am loving having a great partner to experience it with me. Hoping my feet are doing better in the next section and that none of my blisters get infected! Our friends helped me shake down my pack today and I was able to get rid of at least a pound in weight. When you carry everything on your back, hips and shoulders, every little ounce makes a difference! Much love to everyone and thanks for the support, it’s been a great first week!

- Joscelyn

P.S. - I’ll post our daily mileage for anyone who is interested

Day 1

Start: Mile 0 Mexican Border

Stop: Mile 11.4

Total: 11.4 miles

Day 2

Start: Mile 11.4

Stop: Mile 26 Boulder Creek Campground

Total: 14.6 miles

Went thru Lake Morena

Day 3

Start: Mile 26 Boulder Creek Campground

Stop: Mile 37.1

Total: 11.1 miles

Elevation gain: about 3k feet 🦶

Day 4

Start: Mile 37.1

Stop: Mile 47.7

Total Mileage: 10.6

Went thru Mt Laguna

Day 5

Start: Mile 47.7

Stop: Mile 63.7

Total: 16 Miles

Day 6

Start: Mile 63.7

Stop: Mile 77

Total: 13.3 Miles

Day 7

Zero Day In Julian

#pct #pctclassof2021 #pct2021 #tuellertrails #hikertrash

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newstfionline · 3 years

Text

Monday, August 23, 2021

22 dead, many missing after 17 inches of rain in Tennessee (AP) At least 22 people were killed and rescue crews searched desperately Sunday amid shattered homes and tangled debris for dozens of people still missing after record-breaking rain sent floodwaters surging through Middle Tennessee. Saturday’s flooding in rural areas took out roads, cellphone towers and telephone lines, leaving families uncertain about whether their loved ones survived the unprecedented deluge. Emergency workers were searching door to door, said Kristi Brown, a coordinator for health and safety supervisor with Humphreys County Schools. Up to 17 inches (43 centimeters) of rain fell in Humphreys County in less than 24 hours Saturday, shattering the Tennessee record for one-day rainfall by more than 3 inches (8 centimeters), the National Weather Service said. Lines of storms moved over the area for hours, wringing out a record amount of moisture. The downpours rapidly turned the creeks that run behind backyards and through downtown Waverly into raging rapids.

Moving inland, storm Henri drenches Northeast US (AP) Storm Henri weakened into tropical depression Sunday night, as it crawled over the Northeast and continued to unleash downpours over a region already saturated by heavy rain and wind that knocked out power to over 100,000 homes and swamped roads, closed bridges and left people stranded in their vehicles. Henri made landfall Sunday on the coast of Rhode Island, and the National Hurricane Center warned that the slow-moving storm would continue dumping heavy rains on wide swaths of the region. The storm was downgraded from a hurricane before reaching New England, leaving many to breathe a sigh of relief. There were few early reports of major damage due to wind or surf. But the storm’s heavy, sustained rains raised concerns about flooding from the storm that threatened to stall over the region before pivoting to the East and moving out to the Atlantic Ocean on Monday night. Some of the highest rain totals were expected inland.

Civilian air fleet activated for just 3rd time in history to aid Afghanistan evacuation (The Week) For just the third time in U.S. history, the Pentagon is activating the country's Civil Reserve Air Fleet, meaning 18 civilian aircraft from airlines such as American, Delta, and United will be utilized to aid the Afghanistan evacuation in the wake of the Taliban takeover. The planes won't fly into and out of Kabul—the CRAF does not enter war zones—but they will head to U.S. military bases in Germany, Qatar, and Bahrain to fly stranded evacuees elsewhere, alleviating some of the pressure on the armed forces trying to get tens of thousands of Americans and Afghan civilians to safety. The civilian planes are also necessary because the military planes used to carry people out of Kabul don't have adequate restroom facilities or the ability to provide food on longer flights across the Atlantic, The Wall Street Journal notes. The CRAF program was created in 1952, a few years after the Berlin Airlift, an early Cold War crisis that saw the Soviet Union block access from the east to other sectors of the divided city that were controlled by Western powers. Since then, it's only been activated twice—during the Gulf War in Kuwait between 1990 and 1991, and at the start of the Iraq War between 2002 and 2003. The Pentagon only wants to use the aircraft for a week or two, which seemingly lines up with its plan to finish the withdrawal by Aug. 31, though the U.S. is facing calls to extend the deadline.

In Haiti, a brutal reckoning over an all too familiar task: Rebuilding (Washington Post) Hundreds of schools in Haiti were destroyed or badly damaged when the earth shook. The quake damaged power plants, bridges and roads, compromising electric grids and transit. The water supplies for countless communities are contaminated, in some, locals say, because of corpses upstream. Even as Haitians bury their dead, rescue operations continue and bands of desperate victims raid aid trucks. A country of endless crises led by an interim government stepping in for an assassinated president once again faces the arduous task of rebuilding. In the Western Hemisphere’s poorest nation—one worn down by repeated natural and man-made disasters—the list of broken infrastructure and housing is an omen of new hardship ahead. Just as it did in 2010 after a more deadly earthquake—and in 2016, when Hurricane Matthew pummeled the same southern communities stricken by the quake now—Haiti is looking to the international community for help. But that hasn’t worked out well in the past. Last week’s quake reopened old wounds from the 2010 temblor that struck closer to the densely populated capital and killed more than 220,000 people. Over $13 billion in aid was allocated by international agencies to respond to the disaster. But mismanagement, a disconnect with local reality and lack of organization led to mistakes that the Haitian government, international agencies and NGOs say they can’t afford to commit again. To avoid the mistakes of the past, the Haitian government is now requesting that aid flow through it. But on the streets, distrust of local and national officials, who victims insist are corrupt and will spread distribute the aid for personal or political gain, is growing.

British military: 7 Afghans killed in chaos at Kabul airport (AP) A panicked crush of people trying to enter Kabul’s international airport killed seven Afghan civilians in the crowds, the British military said Sunday, showing the danger still posed to those trying to flee the Taliban’s takeover of the country. There have been stampedes and crushing injuries in the crowds, especially as Taliban fighters fire into the air to drive away those desperate to get on any flight out of the country. On Saturday, British and Western troops in full combat gear tried to control the crowds pressing in. They carried away some who were sweating and pale. With temperatures reaching 34 degree Celsius (93 degrees Fahrenheit), the soldiers sprayed water from a hose on those gathered or gave them bottled water to pour over their heads. It wasn’t immediately clear whether those killed had been physically crushed, suffocated or suffered a fatal heart attack in the crowds. Soldiers covered several corpses in white clothes to hide them from view. Other troops stood atop concrete barriers or shipping containers, trying to calm the crowd. Gunshots occasionally rang out.

Europe fears Afghan refugee crisis after Taliban takeover (AP) From above, the new border wall separating Turkey from Iran looks like a white snake winding through the barren hills. So far it only covers a third of the 540-kilometer (335-mile) border, leaving plenty of gaps for migrants to slip across in the dead of night. Traffic on this key migration route from central Asia to Europe has remained relatively stable compared to previous years. But European countries, as well as Turkey, fear the sudden return of Taliban rule in Afghanistan could change that. Haunted by a 2015 migration crisis fueled by the Syrian war, European leaders desperately want to avoid another large-scale influx of refugees and migrants from Afghanistan. Except for those who helped Western forces in the country’s two-decade war, the message to Afghans considering fleeing to Europe is: If you must leave, go to neighboring countries, but don’t come here. Even Germany, which since 2015 has admitted more Syrians than any other Western nation, is sending a different signal today. And French President Emmanuel Macron stressed that “Europe alone cannot shoulder the consequences” of the situation in Afghanistan and “must anticipate and protect ourselves against significant irregular migratory flows.” Greece, whose scenic islands facing the Turkish coast were the European point of entry for hundreds of thousands of Syrians, Iraqis, Afghans and others six years ago, has made clear it doesn’t want to relive that crisis. Turkey is also reinforcing its borders.

Internal displacement crisis looms in Afghanistan in wake of Taliban takeover (Washington Post) As Afghanistan’s neighbors, along with other countries in the region and in the West, brace for the possibility of a large-scale refugee crisis driven by the Taliban’s rapid return to national power, the largest share of the displacement crisis is unfolding within Afghanistan’s borders, aid groups say. As the Taliban took territory in recent weeks, waves of Afghans fled their home provinces on foot and in cars and rickshaws in search of shifting, shrinking government-controlled pockets. In the week before Kabul fell to the Islamist group, tens of thousands of people fled, many of them making their way to the capital, directly or by way of provincial capitals that did not hold out long. Afghanistan already had 3.5 million internally displaced people before the Taliban took over. More than a half-million Afghan civilians have been displaced this year, UNHCR estimates, with about 80 percent being woman and girls. Now that the Taliban has control at the national level, and there are few places to flee its fighters within the country, it remains to be seen what share of people will simply go home.

Israel strikes Gaza after violent protests along border (AP) Israel’s military bombed Palestinian militant weapons sites in the Gaza Strip early Sunday in response to a violent demonstration on the perimeter fence that left an Israeli police officer critically injured, the army said. Saturday’s violence erupted after hundreds of Palestinians took part in a demonstration organized by Gaza’s Hamas rulers to draw attention to the Israeli-Egyptian blockade of the territory. The demonstration grew violent after dozens of people approached the fortified border fence and threw rocks and explosives toward Israeli soldiers from behind a black smoke screen billowing from burning tires. At least 24 Palestinians, including a 13-year-old, were injured by Israeli gunfire, according to the Gaza health ministry. An Israeli Border Police officer was shot and critically injured. The army said in a statement that in response to the violent demonstrations, fighter planes hit “four weapons and storage manufacturing sites” belonging to Gaza’s Hamas rulers, and that the military deployed additional troops to the region near the border with the Palestinian enclave.

#headlines #news

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runfromthemedic · 6 years

Text

Star of the Circus

Chapter 2

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Our present picture of physical reality, particularly in relation to the nature of time, is due for a grand shake up.

-Roger Penrose

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She wasn’t sure how long she’d been unconscious – and she had been really lucky she hadn’t rolled of the practically non-existent edge and drowned – but it was long enough for the rain to stop and the river to fall to a more reasonable level that wouldn’t sweep Leora away when she tried to climb down.

Not that she tried.

Getting down would mean confirming that falling through a flaming hole in a sheet of fabric and somehow de-aging into a kid was her new reality. She suffered more than one hysterical breakdown since regaining consciousness and she didn’t think her frayed mental abilities could handle much more stress.

The people that walked across the bridge ever now and again weren’t helping, either.

They had all spoken Japanese.

Understanding them wasn’t the issue. Leora could speak Japanese. The circus had done a stint through Japan every other year so it just made sense to learn. No, the issue was that the chances that everyone crossing a bridge speaking Japanese in Europe was nonexistent. Which meant she was most likely in Japan.

Alone, de-aged, and on the other side of the world from where for all intents and purposes she should be.

Fuck.

Leora buried her head into her sack/pillow and tried not to scream, repeating the manta it’s not real over and over again in something akin to prayer.

Denial. Denial was such a lovely thing. With denial she didn’t have to acknowledge that she had somehow broken reality. She could stay perched under the bridge like some kind of over-sized bird and pretend it was all just a really messed up dream that she was having a few difficulties with waking up from.

Unfortunately, denial didn’t work on her stomach. At least two days had gone by since Leora had last eaten, left over concession stand fair that would probably have been better off thrown away, and her body decided to protest. Loudly. So it was with great reluctance that she secured a rope around part of the ledge that she now considered ‘Home Base’ so she could shimmy down.

Unused to her shorter height, she misjudged the distance between the end of the rope and the riverbank and ended up tumbling into the river.

Sputtering out a mouthful of dirty water, Leora managed to drag herself out of the surprisingly strong current and onto dry land before just deciding to lay there.

Food wasn’t worth this.

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Her protesting stomach eventually forced Leora to her feet and towards civilization.

The bridge sat on the very edge of a town leading out towards a forest just after a string of old and seedy looking warehouses. Leora kept close to the walls and empty crates as best she could. The few conversations she’d heard from under the bridge were all male, and almost all of them mentioned ‘boss’, someone beating up the new ‘recruits’, with the occasional mention of drugs and alcohol. Add that to her surroundings, the whole place practically screamed ‘danger zone’.

Leora couldn’t climb a rope correctly without her shortened height messing her up. She wasn’t going to even think of trying to fight someone else when it could possibly mean survival.

It took about twenty minutes before Leora came across something that looked like a residential area, and another fifteen of speed walking around random corners before she found what looked like a shopping district. This was both good and bad.

Good because it meant food and possibly a payphone so she could get in touch with the circus master to let him know where she was and that she would need help getting back. And possibly get help with her current age problem. She did not want to go through puberty again. If that creepy witch doctor they picked up near South Korea could fix this then she would be kissing the ground he walked on.

It was bad because it confirmed that she was actually in Japan. Kanji and hiragana covered the signs and shop windows while vendors haggled with customers in obnoxious voices in clear Japanese, and everywhere she looked was the stereotypical black hair and slanted eyes of obviously Asian heritage.

The eyes were bigger, more expressive, than she thought was normal or was completely comfortable with, but she chalked that up to half-starved delirium. She’d seen an older woman with natural looking grey streaked green hair not too long ago. Like that could really be natural.

Her stomach growled loudly, yanking her train of thought away from its tangent and back to point that she was half-starved.

Giving herself a shake, Leora squared her shoulders and walked out of the alley she’d been lurking in.

Not two minutes in and she was already wishing she hadn’t.

She’d expected stares. Hell, she’d expected them. She was part of a circus, getting stared at was part of the job, and she was obviously foreign despite her similar coloring. People always liked to stare at what was different. Was she wasn’t expecting was the blatant disgust and disapproval.

Ducking her head down and quickening her walk, Leora admitted that she couldn’t really blame them. She was a mess.

Her hair was damp, the curls snarled and hanging in a matted mess around her shoulders. The jeans that had fit her eighteen year old self were huge on her child stick-like frame, a belt the only thing keeping them up. She’d cut them off almost at the knee, and still they pooled around her bare and dirty feet. Her shirt was still streaked with grease. The sleeves had to be rolled up so she could actually use her hands.

All in all she looked, and smelled thanks to her dip in the river, like she crawled out of a dumpster.

Realizing that she would be the first person accused if she actually went through with her half formed plan to pick somebodies pocket to pay for dinner, she hunched her shoulders and made an immediate left into the next alley.

Her only safe options were to either beg or go dumpster diving.

Leora would sooner cut her own tongue out than beg these people for anything. So dumpster diving it was.

The restaurant whose alley she’d just ducked into’s sign said the name of the place was Takesushi. Old sushi probably wasn’t really the best choice, but her options weren’t really that great to begin with. So with a sigh and another quick look around to be sure no one was watching her, Leora shimmied her way into the dumpster.

It was gross, and she refused to go farther than the top layer of trash bags, but it wasn’t that bad. She scored big time with a takeout box that somebody apparently forgot. She couldn’t identify what anything was, but it smelled fresh. Or it at least didn’t smell bad. Wedging herself into the back corner of the alley just behind the dumpster, Leora wiped her hand as clean as she could before digging in.

Despite being of questionable freshness, it was delicious. Comfortably full, she tossed the carton back into the dumpster. She’d definitely come back here. Hopefully as an actually customer, but the dumpster was a more likely possibility until she could secure funds to get home.

Stretching stiff muscles out as well as she could and rolling up the hem of her pants just a little more, Leora promptly scaled the drainpipe to the roof.

It wouldn’t do her any favors if some concerned busybody decided to call the police on her. One of the good things about Japan was that the buildings were so close together. It was a short jump between buildings so even her shorter legs shouldn’t give her much of an issue. Besides, nobody ever looked up.

Getting her bearings as best she could from her new vantage point, Leora decided to follow the throng of people heading deeper into the medium sized shopping district. There had to be a payphone around here somewhere.

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“I’m sorry, the number you are trying to reach is not in service. Please check your number and try again.”

Leora’s eye twitched as the third number she tried failed to connect.

She had found a payphone. She’d even found a kid who looked about five or six who had a decently full coin purse. She didn’t like stealing, least of all from kids, but the child’s mother would be more likely to believe that he just dropped it instead of unwillingly donating it to Leora’s Getting Home Fund. So it should’ve been easy sailing once she got a few blocks away and disposed of the evidence.

Except nobody was picking up.

“I’m sorry, the number you are trying to reach is not in service. Please check your number and try again.”

Not in service her tiny Italian ass.

“I’m sorry, the number-“ The operator didn’t even get a chance to finish before Leora was slamming the handset back into the cradle with as much force as an enraged child could muster.

Shoving her hands through her hair and snarling when they got snagged in the mess, Leora stalked towards the park for a hopefully quiet place to think.

Nobody was answering. Leora had got through six numbers and all the money in the little coin purse and they all were out of service.

That just wasn’t possible. Those numbers were always kept in service so that the carneys would always be able to contact somebody. It had been a little over two days. That wasn’t enough time for all of them to get cut off even if they didn’t pay the phone bill on time.

Sitting down at a tree closer to the edge of the park well away from the other children whose parents would get all high and mighty about her appearance, Leora tried not to scream.

This wasn’t helping anything. She was in another country in a town called Namimori that sounded familiar but had never visited before, alone, without funds, food, or shelter, de-aged to about ten, and her only chance at getting home had apparently decided to go off the fucking grid.

To make matters worse the small, insecure part of her that she’d done her best to squash since she’d first joined the Cirque was deciding to rear its ugly head.

They left you here, it hissed. They didn’t want you anymore and dumped you like yesterday’s trash. Why else you’d you be here? You’re nothing more than a street rat whose parents didn’t even want her. Sure they kept you a few years, but they saw how worthless you really are.

Leora shoved that voice right back where it came from, but the doubt lingered.

Why else would she be here if it wasn’t because of them, the whole de-aging thing aside? If somebody hadn’t put her on a plane or a ship and left her under a bridge? But she’d been with them for twelve years and nobody had said they didn’t want her around. She was useful. She made sure of it. Was she really that blind? Curling up Leora bit her lip harshly to keep from crying.

Did they really not want her anymore?

She didn’t get a chance for her thoughts to spiral down any further before she was plowed into by something small, brown, and screeching at the top of his lungs.

The two went sprawling, Leora’s head knocking against the tree while the other kid’s face was firmly planted in the ground.

“Hiiiieee, I’m sorry!”

Blinking the stars out of her eyes, Leora squinted down at the other boy through her now pounding headache.

He look around ten if she was guessing his age right through the dirt on his face. He had brown hair that stuck out in so many directions she wondered if he stuck his finger in a light socket. Or used hair spray, but it looked to fluffy for that. Huge brown eyes stared back at her fearfully, with a tad bit of worry, but mostly fear.

Great. She graduated from disapproving stares to scaring children less than half her age.

“It’s fine.” Leora bit out, feeling the new bump forming on the side of her head. “Watch where you’re going.”

The boy cringed, pulling in on himself like he was afraid she was going to hit him and looking one loud noise away from bolting…and now she felt like scum. He didn’t deserve her snapping at him because of her family issues.

“Sorry.” she sighed, rubbing a hand over her face like she could physically scrub away the bone deep weariness that had settled in sometime around her third attempt at calling home. “I’ve had a really bad day. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

It was a shit apology, but the boy looked shocked over the fact that she apologized at all.

“I-It’s ok-kay.” He stuttered out, face turning red under the dirt. “It w-was m-my fault for not l-looking where I was g-going.”

The stuttering was kind of adorable, Leora noted absently. He was a scrawny thing, with more eyes than face and his hair sticking up in every direction even with dirt matting it down.

“Why were you running anyways?” He’d plowed into her with enough force to send them tumbling almost two meters from her original spot, and if anything he managed to turn even redder.

Leora didn’t know it was actually possible to turn that shade of red.

“I-I was r-running away from t-the dog.” He muttered, mostly to his shoes before nearby yapping had him sitting bolt upright and ramrod straight. He looked terrified.

Stiffening herself at his obvious fear, Leora slowly turned around, hoping not to startle whatever dog was chasing him into attacking the both of them.

Then relaxed completely when she realized that the dog the boy had been so afraid of was a chihuahua.

The brat had been running in terror from an ear and eyeball caddie that looked like it would weigh maybe twenty ounces soaking wet. It had a pink pompom clipped to its collar.

And the brat had decided that she would make a decent meat shield if the way he was clinging to the back of her filthy shirt was anything to go by.

Leora honestly couldn’t tell if the pain in her stomach was from the sushi she ate around lunch or from trying not to laugh.

The domesticated rat finally reached them, slamming into her legs, biting at her jeans, and yapping like a demented squeaky toy and Leora decided that, funny or not, it was annoying. She felt absolutely no remorse as she punted it back across the park, where it ran off crying with its tail between its legs.

Glancing over her shoulder at the comical look of shock on the boy’s face, Leora couldn’t help but crack a grin.

“Dog’s gone.”

“T-THANK YOU!!” Releasing her shirt, the boy bowed so deep he fell over.

“It’s fine.” Helping the boy back to his feet, she patted him down as best she could, wincing slightly at the stain her still wet clothing had left on him when he clung to her back. He went bright red at her fussing.

“I’m sorry I got you wet.” She added a bit sheepishly. She hoped his mom wouldn’t get mad at him even if he didn’t seem to care.

“U-um, why are y-you wet?” he asked a bit timidly, like she was afraid she would rebuke him for asking. Eh, Leora didn’t seem much harm in telling him.

“I fell in the river.” She paused a moment, not noticing his horrified look as an idea popped into her head, “Then got lost. Do you know where I can find a map?”

“I-if you w-want y-you can come to m-my house.” He blurted out, looking horrified at the offer but determined to get it out anyway. “M-Mama s-should have a m-map.”

Leora was just going to tell him no, but she stopped her knee-jerk reaction. She really did need a map if she was going to get back to ‘Home Base’, as unsafe as the area really was, it had her stuff. She also needed to know where any second hand clothing stores were so she could get clothes that actually fit her scrawny child frame. And shoes. She needed shoes. But following a random kid home was potentially dangerous, even if he looked like a rabbit. Looks could be deceiving, so to risk it or not to?

“You could t-take a b-bath while Mama w-washes your clothes.” The boy offered as her hesitance became more obvious.

Hot bath. Clean. No more dumpster smell. If this was a trap it was a damn good one.

“Okay.”

If worst came to worst she could always make for the nearest drainpipe. If she made it to a roof she’d be gone before somebody could get a ladder.

“I’m Leora Ido- ah, sorry. Idoni Leora. You can just call me Leora.”

The boy gave a painfully shy, but none the less bright smile back.

“S-sawada Tsunayoshi. You c-can call me Tsuna.” Leora inclined her head in acceptance before waving towards the street.

“Well, lead the way Tsuna-san.”

Giving her a shy nod of his own Tsuna set off down the street, glancing over his shoulder every now and then like he had to reassure himself that she was actually following him home.

She didn’t mind, not really. She was too busy wondering why the name Sawada Tsunayoshi sounded so familiar.

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Tsuna’s house seemed to be typical of a Japanese suburb. Small unitarian house, same as the one next to it, with a high wall surrounding the property. Tulips had been planted under the windows to give it a splash of color, but really there was nothing special about it.

Which was why Leora couldn’t figure out how it looked so damned familiar. It’s not like she’d ever actually been in a Japanese suburb before. The circus had stuck to the country side.

Musing on this, she didn’t pay more than the bare minimum of attention when Tsuna ushered her into his house and announced he was home.

She started paying a lot more attention when his mother stuck her head through a doorway and squealed.

“Tsu-kun brought home a friend!” what looked like a female version of Tsuna gushed as she ushered her blushing son and what should have obviously been a homeless kid into the kitchen for snacks, seemingly not caring about Leora’s filthy appearance or lack of fitting clothes. And were those flowers popping into existence around her head? Was it some kind of trick of the light?

Leora rubbed her eyes.

Nope. Flowers were still there.

What the fuck?

“Mama,” Tsuna broke through his mother’s gushing with what Leora assumed was long practiced ease. “This is Leora-san. S-she fell in in the river and got lost s-so I thought she c-could take a bath here.”

“Ara, you poor dear.” The woman crooned as she ushered Leora up the stairs despite her best efforts to dig in her heels. “Let’s get you in a bath. I’ll give you a pair of Tsu-kun’s clothes to wear while I wash yours.” She paused a moment as if just now seeing her attire.

“These are a bit big on you.”

“…They belong to someone… older.” Leora defended. It’s not her fault that she’d shrunk.

“Ah, you must be new to the area. It is hard to find clothes through all the boxes to sort through from moving.” The woman sympathized, completely ignoring the dubious look Leora was shooting her.

How the hell had she come up with that?

Before she could ask what drug the crazy lady was on, not the best thing to ask your host, she was stripped and dumped in a bath that she didn’t even see the woman draw, clothes whisked away and locket placed on the edge of the bathroom sink.

Leora stared at the bathroom door for a solid five minute before dunking her head in the water to start washing out her curls.

Whatever the woman was, she wasn’t going to be able to beat. She might as well enjoy getting clean.

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Dressed in a pair of Tsuna’s shorts and T-shirt, and feeling considerably more human than she did before, Leora was ushered downstairs and seated at the kitchen table where Tsuna was already eating cookies.

At her blank face he slide the plate over, sending her an apologetic look while his mother bustled around the kitchen putting together things for tea.

“So Leora-chan,” Leora twitched at the childish honorific, “where are you from before coming to Namimori?” Sawada-san asked as she pulled more snacks out of a cabinet.

“…Italy, but my family moves around a lot.”

“Wah, that’s sounds like so much fun. Going so many places. Your family must really love life.” The Sawada matron exclaimed with a dreamy look in her too big eyes, making the tiny Italian twitch again. “Are you liking Namimori so far?”

Leora thought about mental breakdowns, dumpster diving, likely gang matters near her ‘Home Base’, and possible abandonment.

“Yes Sawada-san.” If her reply was flat, Tsuna’s mother didn’t seem to notice.

“Please, call me Nana or mama. I’m hoping I’ll see you around a lot. You should be going to Namimori Primary once school starts. Maybe you and Tsu-kun can do your homework together.”

“Mama!” Tsuna sputtered his cookie and Leora ended up pounding him on the back to help him breath.

“Oh, but Tsu-kun, Leora-chan looks so smart! And you’ll need better grades to get into Namimori Middle or a good university. Mama wants you to be able to say ‘Ah, I love life!’.”

That sent off so many warning bells, but Leora wasn’t sure why this conversation seemed familiar. Her own mother would never have said anything like that. And Namimori Middle. What was that name so familiar?

“Tsu-kun, why don’t you go pick up your room so you and Leora-chan can go play. Leora-chan, why don’t you call you family? It’s getting late so why don’t you ask to stay over since it’s so close to dinner. They can pick you up in the morning.”

Tsuna still looked embarrassed, but he still dashed up the stairs with all the grace of a horse on roller skates with a hopeful look on his face while Leora was lead to a phone in the hallway.

Even if she was an actually a kid, she highly doubted that decent parents would let their missing children spend the night at a strangers house. Not that she had any to ask.

Still, she dutifully dialed a number again, hoping that someone would finally answer.

“The number you are trying to reach is not in service. Please check your number and try again.”

Hanging up the phone, Leora walked into the kitchen to let Nana know she could stay the night. Then she walked up the stairs to Tsuna’s room and play whatever game he set up in a vain attempt to the painful ball of emotion that had taken up a place in her gut.

She’d just passed a small side table when one of the pictures caught her eye. It was a framed postcard of a man in a construction workers outfit who was obviously photo shopped onto a picture with penguins.

Something in her head clicked, ker-plunk, like the turning of a key in a lock as all the little things she’d thought was familiar today fell into place.

Namimori. Takesushi. Namimori Middle. Sawada ‘call me Mama’ Nana. Idiot looking construction worker with penguins. Fluffy haired Sawada Tsunayoshi.

Katekyo Hitman Reborn.

She was in an anime.

Leora didn’t even notice the floor rushing up to meet her as she fainted for the second time in two days.

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Tsuna cleaned his room as fast as he could, shoving empty snack containers under his bed and in his closet so he wouldn’t keep Leora waiting.

He hadn’t meant to run into her at the park, and he had thought she was scary looking even though she made the dog go away. He couldn’t really blame her though. He was sure he’d look scary too if he fell in a river. She’d even apologized to him.

She hadn’t looked scary at all once she’d gotten cleaned up and some better clothes.

Even though he was embarrassed by Mama, he was happy that she should be going to Namimori Primary. It would be nice to have a friend at school with him.

Nobody wanted to be friends with Dame-Tsuna, but Leora had never heard the nickname before so she wouldn’t know how useless he was. That left him with about three weeks of convincing her to be friend before she’d be introduced to his other classmates and bullies.

When he was younger Mama said that making friends gave you a warm feeling in your chest, kind of like a heater. Tsuna honestly couldn’t remember the last time his chest felt something besides cold and kind of empty. He honestly didn’t even notice how cold he really was until she had squinted at him and something flickered in his chest. It had reminded him of a drinking hot chocolate in the winter after being outside for so long. So he’d hidden behind her from the dog and basically dragged her home with him because he didn’t want that warm feeling to fade, checking over his shoulder every few seconds in case she disappeared. He’d been terrified, but the warm flickering in his chest kept him going. Somehow he managed to make it home without tripping. He took that as a good sign.

Shoving the last pile of dirty laundry under his bed, Tsuna hurried out to bring Leora up.

He ended up tripping on her in the hallway right outside his door.

Rubbing a new bruise on his head, he took in the sprawled out form of what was hopefully his first friend.

She had looked pretty tired after her bath, but he wished she could’ve made it to his room before falling asleep. He wasn’t strong enough to carry her.

Dragging her into his room as best as could, he wedged a pillow under her head and covered her with the blanket off his bed. She didn’t even twitch.

Huh, she really was tired. She didn’t say how long she was lost after she fell in the river, but it must’ve been a while if she was this conked out.

He’d need help to make her more comfortable since he couldn’t pick her up. But first he needed to let his Mama know Leora had already fallen asleep and wouldn’t be down for dinner.

That tiny little flicker of warmth still in his chest had him smiling the rest of the night, even after he’d fallen asleep on the futon his Mama had set up next to his bed where Leora was sleeping.

#fanfiction #my ocs #katekyo hitman reborn

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lordendsavior · 7 years

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Harry Styles is a faithful disciple of silence. He rarely does interviews, and when he does he speaks with charm and cheek while avoiding any nuggets of actual information that could be described as revealing. Until he started doing press around his debut solo album this spring, giving him various bits of artwork and magazine covers to screengrab, his Instagram looked like an A-Level photography project—full of dramatically monochrome shots of infrastructure and food. His Twitter timeline is essentially a corkboard littered with messages expressing thanks to his fans, structured like love letters from a husband in the trenches—"See you soon. Love. H."

In our climate of oversharing, his withholding nature may conveniently double up as a watertight marketing tactic, creating a shroud of mystery that's inherently desirable (what's he wearing today? What's he eating for breakfast? What does he do when he's not making scheduled public appearances?). But for him, it's more than that – "When I go home, I feel like the same person I was at school," he told Rolling Stone earlier this year, "You can't expect to keep that if you show everything."

This is why you don't often see Harry Styles among the names that frequent the daily aggregated news cycle of and Person Says Thing > The Thing is Outrageous! > Actually, The Thing Is Very Nuanced > Ugh, Someone Has Said Something Else Now. He has, to paraphrase someone he once dated, removed himself from the narrative. But, at the same time, Styles has created a narrative that exists just between him and his fans. Simply put: he cares about them, very sincerely and very unabashedly. Which isn't unusual—Lady Gaga is a perfect example of the often very intimate way fandom culture works today—but Harry Styles is muse to such a vast number of teenage girls, a demographic whose interests and opinions are rarely taken seriously by music critics or society at large, that his respect for them takes on a different meaning. It's a relationship best summarized by the following quote from Styles in that Rolling Stone interview: "Who's to say that young girls who like pop music—short for popular, right?—have worse musical taste than a 30-year-old hipster guy? That's not up to you to say." He goes on: "Teenage-girl fans—they don't lie. If they like you, they're there. They don't act 'too cool.' They like you, and they tell you. Which is sick."

This was also the defining characteristic of One Direction's relationship with their fandom. They knew exactly who elevated them from bronze winners of a generic talent contest to global superstardom, they knew exactly who kept them there, and in return they gave them what they wanted. In the wake of their split, journalist Anna Leszkiewicz described One Direction as "a towering monument to the power of teenage girls."

It would have been both a strange and fairly stupid move for Styles to abandon that relationship moving into his solo career, but if anything he seems to have doubled down. He still doesn't say a great deal to the press, save for the endless shouts of appreciation for the people who make his life possible—namely, his fans and faves (artists like Stevie Nicks, to whom Harry Styles owes much of its inspiration)—but over time he's fostered a channel of trust that means his shows have become as close to a safe space as is possible for young girls to get as far as experiencing live music is concerned.

Harry Styles is currently touring Europe. He passed through London last weekend, with fans arriving to camp outside Hammersmith's Eventim Apollo in west London as early as Tuesday. Approaching the venue on Sunday evening, the area outside is deserted. It looks like a Glastonbury camping zone on clean-up day. Duvets are draped over the empty barriers; the floor is littered with foil blankets and carrier bags full of empty sandwich boxes and crisp packets; Pride Flags and Black Lives Matter placards have been taped in place like calls to arms. Everyone is already inside, obviously, and has been for ages. There are about 50 girls camping across the road on a patch of grass underneath Hammersmith flyover so they can be first in line for tomorrow's show. To arrive on time to a Harry Styles show is akin to missing it.

As for inside the venue, you can hardly see the stage for the number of LGBTQ Pride and Black Lives Matter signs held aloft by the audience. In Manchester, people also held up the city's bee symbol. The "I love you"s and "Marry me"s stereotypically associated with teen girl fandom are still very much there in spirit, but their articulation has taken on an actively political tone. The rainbow, the striking black and white of the BLM logo, the Manchester bee—all are symbols of support shared widely on social media, where pop fanbases tend to be most active, exemplifying a generational shift in consciousness towards social awareness. Here, they're brandished less a show of resistance and more as a celebration. People feel comfortable expressing themselves this way because they know everyone in the room is already on their side.

Styles has spoken generally about equality in the press before ("Most of the stuff that hurts me about what's going on at the moment is not politics, it's fundamentals," he told Rolling Stone. "Equal rights. For everyone, all races, sexes, everything"), but it's what he says at his shows, addressing people directly, that means the most to those who care the most. Throughout the night he encourages people to be "whoever you want to be in this room" and continually thanks them "from the bottom of my heart." Someone throws a Pride Flag on stage and he holds it with both hands above his head and runs back and forth across the stage. Someone else throws a French flag and he does the same. Someone else throws a bit of tinsel and he drapes it around his shoulders like a stole.

The room is full of groups of teenage girls hugging each other, hugging people they didn't know, turning to ask the people behind them if they could see alright. Anyone crammed towards the front has been there from the second the doors opened, denying themselves water or a sit-down so they could be as close to their idol as possible. The show had to be stopped twice to help two girls who fainted in the pit. Harry calmly asked people to take a step back, repeatedly checked if everyone was okay and spoke soothingly about looking after one another. He played "Kiwi" twice because it's what the fans wanted, though not without a bit of showmanship ("if you want us to play it again you're going to have to scream louder than that").

It's also worth noting that, although it was ostensibly The Harry Styles Show, five of the ten people onstage are women. As well as a female drummer and keyboardist playing in his own band, he's being supported by MUNA—a goth-pop trio from LA whose music communicates the emotional disarray of sexuality and relationships, as well as heavier topics like assault, through a specifically queer lens. On stage in Hammersmith this weekend, they repeatedly acknowledged the marginalised communities present within the crowd, providing reassurance that—in this room, at least—they are seen and heard. There are, sadly, so many awful reasons to feel unsafe at any show, but in light of the Manchester Arena bombing, pop shows now carry a particularly horrific association that lingers in the back of your mind and can make you inadvertently take note of the emergency exits. Rather than avoiding it, guitarist/vocalist Naomi McPherson addresses the elephant in the room and reminds people how brave they are for being here at all. Singer Katie Gavin introduces their single "I Know A Place"—essentially the San Junipero episode of Black Mirror as a song—by describing it as their imagining of an ideal world we should be working towards. "I know a place we can run / Where everyone gonna lay down their weapon," Gavin sings over a dancey four-to-the-floor beat, "Don't you be afraid of love and affection."

For all the talk of inclusivity and equal rights often thrown around within subcultural communities like punk, hardcore and indie—predominantly male-dominated spaces that can't seem to go a day without someone in a band being called out as abusive—it strikes me as significant that this is one of the few shows I've ever been to where I've not felt threatened by anyone in the room. And it's not because I am, at 5 feet 3 inches, one of the largest people in this one. It's because Harry Styles supports his fans' politics while they really live it, and as a result his shows have become a place for people to celebrate being whoever they are. The diversity of the room itself speaks to that. He's cheering just as much for his fans as they are for him.

Pop music is accessible and available in ways that more subcultural music isn't, but this dynamic doesn't just present itself anywhere. Justin Bieber shows, ecstatic as they may be, are not largely comprised of kids shouting down racism while overtly celebrating their queerness. Pop, like all music, can often be a form of escapism—a way to forget yourself, especially if being yourself can mean facing a multitude of hardships. The actual content of Harry Styles' music isn't anywhere near political but, because of the way his fans engage with him and each other, his shows inherently are.

Obviously, anything can happen anywhere and anytime. Harry Styles' name on the front of a building can't guarantee the absolute safety of everyone in it. But it does foster a world away from our current one; a world that feels less oppressive and more like MUNA's "I Know A Place." I can't imagine how valuable it is for teenagers to experience that—even if it's just for a night.

#i love this article #harry styles #the pink tour press

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dillazova · 7 years

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PARIS

So it’s been 5 months since I visit Paris, but somehow I couldn’t bring myself to write about all the experience I had there. Maybe because everything it’s overflowing the feeling, the memory and all the experience I had.

But now after I can calm down and somehow see everything in a big picture I can bring myself to write about it.

I always has been that girl who dream to go to Paris, everything is started when I was 14 or 15 years old if I can recall it after reading Tetralogi Laskar Pelangi by Andrea Hirata I start dreaming that one day I will go to Paris, I want to see what Ikal saw there and if Ikal that poor kid from Belitong could dare to dream to study and live in Paris and make it come true, why can’t I?. The story from that novel somehow give me hope that there’s a big world out there and even though you came from a village and was nobody, with dreams you can change your life.

At that time I was studying in a dormitory school in a small town called Garut, the school was near the mountain and rice paddy, and the people there was very simple. But I always had feeling that I was meant for something big, to see more that world has to offer but I don’t know what to do. And after reading that novel my whole world change, my point of view change and somehow I became more optimistic about my life because I was dare to dream something big, a dream that one day I will step my feet to Paris. It was a simple dream, but to me it wasn’t simple at all thinking that going abroad it’s not an easy thing to do that time and my family never even leave Indonesia how am I able to go to Europe in anyway. But I believe that if I can dream it I can find a way to make it come true no matter what.

Because I was a very vocal and loud girl I somehow able to make the whole school knows that I dream to go to Paris, not only the friends in my class but the whole school knows. Because there’s one time the writer Andrea Hirata came to our school for a seminar and I made myself declared my dream in front of him and the whole students in our school.

Long story short I graduated from that school hanging to that dream being able to get myself a scholarship to study in Jakarta. And I went to study there full of hope and dreams, since the first step I came to Jakarta I know that I made the stairs to go to Paris. God was so nice to me after a year studying there I got a chance to go to Poland and that was my first time going abroad and the following year I had a chance to go to Southern France, I may not step my foot to Paris yet but I already step my foot in France I told myself that time.

After that life just getting harder and harder day by day so many things going on in my life that only myself knew, it’s not exaggerating but that time 6 month before graduation I was facing a very deep dark depression that I almost kill myself. I managed to get out and heal from that dark time but I wasn’t the same, I’m not that bright optimistic girl anymore, I became more a simple minded girl all I want to do its just surviving life and be happy. But that wasn’t work for me it’s not nice living a life that it’s not exciting anymore and the dream of becoming flight attendant living and working abroad was saving me from that realistic life trap. I was try to get up and focus on how becoming flight attendant and during that time the dream to go to Paris was buried deep inside my heart. It wasn’t I try to forget it but I try to put it aside and more focus to realize my dream to become a flight attendant.

With so many drama during the process and failure I finally become one, not in an airlines I was dreaming of but at least I can get out from this country living abroad and open a new blank page. Trust me opening a new blank page in life it was amazing, the amount of hope you had it’s incredible to start a brighter future ahead. Life becoming better day by day, and I’m becoming more happier and mature, somehow I was thanking God for giving me a chance to get through those dark time so I can be who I am right now, I can think more clearly and more mature dealing with people and life. It was in the mid 24 years old me I started thinking about Paris again, I thought next year I will be turning 25th and it would mark the 10 years I’m dreaming to go to Paris. I have to make it, it’s been ten years and my life is better now I have to give myself a gift, a good reward. So I plan the trip to go to Paris at my 25th birthday in April, and start saving money religiously.

In February 2017 I was telling my boyfriend that this year I have to go to Paris I have to make my dream come true this year, but looking at my saving account I couldn’t make it in April and then I saw a poster about Coldplay concert in Paris in July, and it was such an eureka for me I can save more money until July and go to Paris plus go to that concert. So here we go me and my boyfriend planning for that Paris trip to see a Coldplay concert. At first I think I’m not gonna make it, but after so much hustle we finally book everything and ready to go.

When I landed in Paris CDG airport, actually there’s no crying or touching moment in fact I was just feeling blank the whole journey but not until my bus arrived in Gard du Lyon, it hits me hard that yes Dilla you are in Paris now. I will not explaining everything I saw and experience there because I’m just being a tourist there like most people, but every step that I take I couldn’t stop to think about the 15 years old me. I kept telling myself, “see Dilla you made it, you made it here you step your feet in Paris, thank you so much for not giving up”. And the moment when I stand tall in front of the Eiffel tower I couldn’t help myself not to cry, mostly I’m not crying because how tall and beautiful the Eiffel tower is but thinking all the journey I had to be at this point and standing strong here after so much obstacle in life I had to face for the past 10 years.

And on the third day in Paris it was France National Day, we didn’t know before and the whole city was celebrating it. In the evening we went in front of the Eiffel tower and see the fireworks there, it was so beautiful and so touching I’m crying nonstop seeing it I feel like it’s not the city celebrating the France National Day but the city was celebrating and congratulate me, it might sound too much but that’s how I feel.

Every single thing that I saw in Paris it feels like walking through that one dream you don’t want to wake up to. From casually walking through the city, looking through Seine river, a sweet kiss looking through a beautiful sunset in Notre Dame, that amazing dinner in a small restaurant we found, a ride with metro to the Louvre, seeing Coldplay singing in front of my eyes and sing along with thousands of people in the stadium. In the end of the day dreams do come true if we keep believe in it and never give up. And I learned a new lesson while I was there, the most important thing is not the ending but the step we take, no matter how hard it is don’t stop because no matter how far the journey is if we keep moving forward we will always get there.

Dear a younger me,

I want to let you know that you do made for something big, and thank you for having a courage to have a big dream, you were scared at that time and always wondering if you can make that dreams come true or not and you did. I want to thank you for always stand up for yourself for the things you believe in despite what other people said, and thank you for your bravery for stepping out from your comfort zone following your dreams even though life punish you with so many obstacle later on. Thank you for not ending your life during that depressed time, thank you for standing strong and let yourself heal without losing hope. Thank you for keep moving forward because you finally made it to your destination. The journey it’s not easy, but it’s worth every single tears you had.

Thanks Allah SWT for the life you give to me, endless strength you put in myself and all the hard times you gave to make me a stronger person, I cannot do anything without you god. And Mamah my number one supporter and the one who always believe in me despite everything.

Especially I want to thank Sebastien, the man who give his whole heart to me, the one who hold my hand when I was crying in front of the Eiffel tower. I always believe that I will be with the man that I love when I visit Paris, and so it was you the one that has been destined.

#paris life dreams courage

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