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tennessoui · 3 years

Note

hi all of your aus are amazing! pls what happens with divorced!obiwan and the twins?

hey!! sorry this took so long i had to think of an appropriate cliffhanger

this is a continuation of this ficlet and this ficlet, where divorced!obi-wan accidentally acquires a partner and a set of twins.

(2k WHOOPS)

The twins are not, and probably have never been described by anyone except their father, angels. They take to Obi-Wan as well as Obi-Wan takes to them, which is to say that all three of them watch each other suspiciously until one day Luke launches himself off the top of the fridge--how the fuck did he manage to get up there--and Obi-Wan drops his morning toast in a frantic bid to catch him.

After that, Leia and Luke apparently decide he is Another Anakin Who Is Just Around A Lot Less But Is Better At Reading Bedtime Stories and deign to treat him as such.

Obi-Wan decides that he’s going to have a heart attack by the age of fifty. Do all children see a childproof house as a challenge?

It somehow takes both a longer and shorter time to win over Anakin’s favor, mostly because Obi-Wan isn’t sure what the man’s thinking at any given moment. He seems to blow hot and cold depending on how he woke up or how the work day goes. Some days, Obi-Wan comes home from campus and Anakin and the twins have waited to eat until he’s there. Sometimes they’ve eaten and there’s a meal under foil on the stove just for Obi-Wan.

(“I don’t know how you do it,” Obi-Wan tells him one night after the children are put to bed. “I mean, work from home with your job, mind the children, and cook?”

“They made me head of the R&D department a few months ago,” Anakin admits, taking a sip of his second glass of wine. “So I’m doing a lot more checking through other people’s work instead of making my own. It just means I can do that and make something edible--no, really, you just can’t cook, Obi-Wan, I’m not the best either.”

“Do you miss getting to make something other than food?” Obi-Wan asks eventually, giving himself enough time to recover from the sound of the other’s giggles.

Anakin shrugs languidly. “It’s better salary, and I’m the youngest ever in the company to have the position. Means I’ll pay off my student loans quicker, same with my mom’s hospital bills. Doesn’t matter what I want.”

Obi-Wan’s chest hurts and he wants to lean across the gap between their chairs and place his hand on Anakin’s arm, but they don’t know each other like that. It’s only been a month and a half since they moved in. Still. “It always matters what you want,” he insists. “And I think you’re amazing.”

Anakin blushes bright scarlet and takes a huge gulp of wine, and Obi-Wan wonders if this is a throwing-yourself-off-the-fridge break through.)

(It’s not because the next day, Anakin doesn’t say a single word to him, which bothers him more than he’d like to admit.)

(“Am I in the wrong for wanting to get along with my housemate?” Obi-Wan asks Quinlan despairingly during their office hours that he should be using to grade papers. Instead all he can think about is Anakin Skywalker and the goddamn cold shoulder he’s been getting from the man for the past three days.

“Yeah,” Quin says absentmindedly, marking something with a red pen before looking up at Obi-Wan’s outraged intake of breath. “I mean, no. I mean, sorry, Obi, what are we even talking about now? Is it still your hot new roommate with the two kids? Because that’s what we were talking about an hour and a half ago.”

Obi-Wan crosses his arms and leans back in his chair. “I’m just not sure I appreciate--”

“And you said he’s not been hanging around in the living room when you get home? But he’s still leaving you meals in the kitchen? And you’re upset about the free food?”

Obi-Wan is upset at the lack of Anakin’s presence, but he thinks that’s probably not the right thing to say here.

“Maybe he’s just tired?” Quinlan puts down his pen and rests his chin on one of his hands as he looks at Obi-Wan. “From the kids and the job and putting up with your moody ass. C’mon, Obi, what’s really getting you worked up?”

Obi-Wan purses his lips and stares at the desk in front of him, but he had come to Quinlan for help. He should at least be honest about what’s eating at him, even though he knows how silly it will sound when given a voice. “...Satine always waited up for me,” he mutters. “Until she didn’t.”

Quinlan’s quiet for a worryingly large amount of seconds, before he reaches out to pat Obi-Wan gently on the arm. “Oh, Obi,” he says pityingly. “Repeat after me. You cannot make your new roommate your rebound from your thirty year marriage.”

Obi-Wan scoffs. That’s not the problem at all. “That’s not the problem at all,” he says, not defensively in the slightest. “I think I’m just worried about the children not having enough structure in their lives.”

“Right,” Quinlan says, not quite managing to hide the skepticism in his voice. “Then you should talk to him. For the sake of the children.”

Obi-Wan will absolutely not be doing that, but it’s a nice thought.)

The real turning point in Anakin and Obi-Wan’s relationship happens five months after the Skywalkers move in.

Anakin and Obi-Wan are in the living room. Anakin is trying to braid Leia’s hair while Obi-Wan tries to pretend he isn’t watching. From the kitchen, there’s a very, very loud crash and the sound of something shattering.

Both adults leap up from their seats immediately and run to the other room.

Luke is standing in the epi-center of disaster, little face scrunched up like he doesn’t know whether or not to cry. At the sight of his dad and Obi-Wan, he starts to wail, moving forward and reaching for Anakin.

Obi-Wan, who is wearing shoes inside the house (a point of contention between himself and Anakin), grabs Luke roughly and picks him up by the armpits before he can cut his feet on the glass. He hands him over to Anakin to soothe, stepping further into the kitchen to find the dustpan he keeps in one of the pantries.

It’s very obvious what broke, though Obi-Wan can’t for the life of him understand how Luke got ahold of Satine’s heavy cake stand. He can definitely understand how Luke dropped it, as the thing was ridiculously heavy.

It had been one of the only things left in the house that had been Satine’s. She’d left it, and Obi-Wan had been too bitter or petty to point it out to her. Yes, it had been her mother’s. No, keeping it had not made him feel any better. But it’s not like Satine ever baked anything anyway.

Good for Luke, actually, for doing what Obi-Wan never could bring himself to do.

He grabs the broom and dustpan and marches back to the pieces of shattered glass. Anakin has placed Luke on the counter, ostensibly to check to make sure his feet are fine if the boy would ever let go of his father’s neck. Leia is peering around at the mess on the floor.

When Obi-Wan comes back and starts sweeping everything away, she darts forward to pick up a rather sizeable chunk.

“Don’t touch that,” Obi-Wan says sharply, much harsher than he intended. Leia drops it instantly and scurries back to her father, eyes wide and sort of watery. Oh, fuck.

“Hey,” Anakin snaps immediately. “She’s just trying to help and Luke didn’t mean to break--whatever that is.”

Obi-Wan holds up his hand to cut Anakin off. “I’m not mad,” he promises all three of the Skywalkers. And he’s not even lying. He’s really not mad, hasn’t even thought to be mad at this last piece of proof of his relationship with Satine shattering on his kitchen floor. “I just don’t want either of you to cut yourself. Glass like this can be very dangerous and none of you are wearing shoes.”

“Promise?” Luke asks, untucking his red face from Anakin’s neck so he can peer up at Obi-Wan.

“I’m sorry I was a bit rough,” Obi-Wan apologizes, coming over and bending down a bit so he’s on the same level as Luke. “I was just worried about you. Promise.”

Luke sniffles but lets go of Anakin to throw himself at Obi-Wan, apologizing all the way.

“Hush,” Obi-Wan says as Leia scrambles up his leg, vying for his attention. With his hands full of children that aren’t his, he raises his head to look at Anakin who’s watching them with a very strange expression on his face. He tilts his head toward the broom and then down to the kids in his arms. “Come along,” he tells them both. “Leia, I’ll finish your braids if you’d like.”

“Braid my hair too!” Luke demands with a pull on Obi-Wan’s shirt.

Luke’s hair is floppy but awfully short. “I’m sure we can figure something out,” Obi-Wan says generously, leaving the kitchen.

“I suppose I’ll just clean this up then?” Anakin calls sarcastically behind them.

“Thank you, darling,” Obi-Wan responds.

There’s the sound of something else breaking, but it’s not Obi-Wan’s problem at the moment.

(A year later, Anakin mentions something over morning coffee about looking for a new apartment, now that he’s got everything straightened out. “We’ll get out of your hair,” he says, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I’ll look today since it’s my day off.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t want to examine why that idea makes something curl tightly in his stomach, making him feel vaguely nauseous, but it does. On his way out of the house, he unplugs the router, and then after a second of thought, takes it with him just in case.)

(Quinlan laughs his head off when Obi-Wan sheepishly puts the router down on the desk in front of him. “It’s a bad market right now,” Obi-Wan says defensively. “I’m just looking out for him.”

“Obi, I mean this in the best way possible, but there are at least four professors in the psych department that would probably love to do a case study on you.”)

(Two years after the Skywalkers move in, Obi-Wan is running late for a meeting with the head of his department. The man is stepping down, finally retiring, and Obi-Wan thinks that perhaps he’ll be tapped as the new head. It would mean dropping some of his classes, but it would be worth it.

“I made you a breakfast wrap,” Anakin greets him at the door, holding out a paper bag. “It’s got that salsa you like in it.”

The salsa Obi-Wan likes is the mild version of what Anakin and the kids eat, but Anakin treats it as if it’s from another planet entirely.

“Good luck!” he says with a sweet smile, also passing Obi-Wan a travel mug of what’s hopefully fully caffeinated tea. Obviously Obi-Wan needs it. He got perhaps two full hours of sleep last night, tossing and turning and thinking about this meeting and now he’s running late and his tie is crooked and none of his favorite sweater vests were clean.

“Thank you, dear one,” Obi-Wan mumbles, mind somewhere else. If traffic isn’t too bad, he could still be on time.

“Text me how it goes!” Anakin chirps, following Obi-Wan out the door to stand on the front porch with his arms crossed in an attempt to fight off the early winter chill.

“Yes, of course,” Obi-Wan replies, turning around to brush an absent-minded kiss to Anakin’s lips before hurrying to his car. It’s a twenty minute commute. If he gets his preferred parking spot and runs to the department building, he won’t be late at all.

Is that too much to hope for?

He starts the car and pulls out of the driveway, looking back in the rearview mirror to see Anakin standing frozen on the porch. That’s strange, usually the other man can’t stand being out in the cold.

Obi-Wan gets to the first stop-sign out of the neighborhood before he realizes what he’s done. It’s lucky that he’s already slowing down, because he slams on the brakes. Did he--

Did he kiss Anakin? Did he really kiss Anakin as if he does it all the time? As if they were in a relationship?

Oh shit.

Frantically, he pulls out his cellphone from his bag and checks to see if he has any new messages. He doesn’t.

Oh. Shit.

#asks #one more ficlet in this universe and i will have No Choice but to piece them together somehow on ao3 #there was supposed to be a bit where one of his students is like 'oh i didnt know you were a father!'#and obi-wan is like 'im not a father'#and then he plugs in his laptop to pull up the powerpoitn for the day #and his background is a picture of luke and leia #not even doing anything theyre just sleeping peacefully in his favorite armchair hugging the same book #anakin had sent it to him #with the text that they were taking turns playing Obi-Wan and Student #but the game was so boring they fell asleep #KUWSK

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poisonedapples · 4 years

Text

Lasting Impressions - Chapter One: Three Hours Before

Summary: Virgil makes a good friend at the weirdest time of day; four in the morning, where everyone and their dog is fast asleep. However, deciding to befriend that person ends up getting him into a lot more trouble than he could ever suspect. His new friend ended up going missing that same night. And Virgil was the last person to see him alive.

Chapter Warnings: Kidnapping, missing people, nightmares and anxiety, mentions of death, mentions of murder (regarding Disney characters), blood, mentions of drunkenness/alcohol, and swearing

Pairings: Familial Royality, platonic Prinxiety that still flirt with each other in this chapter

Word Count: 4,307

Notes: Heed the warnings, as this story (although not mentioned a lot in this chapter) will contain missing people, kidnapping, and its fair share of violence as we go along the story. Always read chapter triggers before you dive in, and if there’s a chapter or scene you can’t read, you can always DM me for a less graphic or trigger free version of it.

It was 3:51 AM when Virgil felt himself jolt awake in a cold sweat.

He frantically turned his bedside table lamp on, ignoring the pain of the blinding light on his adjusting eyes. It wasn’t often he got nightmares anymore, but God when he did, they were horrible. He could always barely remember what it was about; something with not being able to scream and a weird creature chasing him, but nothing more than that. Instead he was left to shake in his bed and attempt to breathe in for four seconds.

In for four...hold for seven- fuck, wait-...four...hold for seven…come on! In for four...sev- Are you fucking kidding me!?

Virgil jumped out of bed, ignoring the weakness in his legs and shakiness of his arms and threw on his hoodie and a pair of jeans. He only bothered with putting on a sports bra, instead of trying to breathe in his binder, then stuffed his phone in his pocket and walked out his bedroom door. He was careful not to slam it to not alert his roommate Elliott, instead quietly scooting himself to the front door of their apartment. Despite his haste, he double checked to make sure he locked the door before going down the apartment steps. Like always, Elliott would be none the wiser.

Virgil walked out to the front of the apartments and took a left down the block. His body was still shaking, but the fresh air always helped.

It’s fine. You’re fine.

...It’s gonna be another one of these days, isn’t it?

Virgil sighed. Anxiety was always the worst. Sometimes, all it took was for you to wake up in a certain mood and hope it was gone by the next day. He’d certainly gotten better over the years when it came to nightmares and having to run away at terrible times in the night, but disorders never completely went away. Not that he’d heard of, at least.

The air had a different feeling to it outside. Fall was cooling the atmosphere and giving Virgil a kind of contentment he could only reach in this time of year. Halloween decorations had filled store shelves before September ended, though none of those stores were open at this time in the early morning. Instead, Virgil walked down the street and occupied himself with looking at street lights and the occasional car passing by.

The very, very occasional car.

Virgil plucked his earbuds out of his hoodie pocket and plugged them into his phone, putting a random playlist on scramble to drown out the eerie silence. Everything was so quiet at this time. Usually in the city, the streets would be so noisy Virgil was more at risk of a sensory overload than being this kind of uneasy. In a way, walking alone in the dark was the worst way to recover from a nightmare, no matter how many times it became his solution. He felt watched.

...Shut up, no, don’t think like that. No panic attacks for you. Not in the middle of the damn street.

Virgil pressed his earbuds deeper into his ears, as if that could muffle his thoughts the same way it damaged his hearing.

At least the air was a nice change of pace. Fresh air always helped him when he felt like he couldn’t breathe, and now the chills in his body could be explained with a different reason. Even if it really wasn’t that cold outside.

Virgil felt the cold bring a sudden wind to the back of his feet. He almost jumped three feet in the air as his mind raced with thoughts of someone’s chasing you, but as he looked around, no one was there.

He saw something move in the corner of his eye and jumped again.

Virgil kept deathly still, like any sudden movement would bring this mysterious shadow to kill him. The only thing keeping him sane was the emo music blasting through his earbuds, the rest looking like something out of one of his horror movies.

He saw something in the corner of his eye again, shooting to look at the black blob right next to his foot. He took a sudden, sharp breath to stop himself from screaming such a sketchy time of night and darted his head around to find the source.

Underneath Virgil’s feet was a very offended looking squirrel. Before he could smack himself in the face for being an idiot, the creature scurried away and disappeared in a dark alleyway.

Virgil rubbed at his eyes. Jesus, he thought, I’m really on edge. It’s just a damn squirrel.

Still, Virgil turned around and walked faster until the alleyway was out of his sight. He sighed and attempted to calm himself down a little, but his chest still felt ready to burst from all the fear. He breathed in deeply, then out again.

His hands still shook, but it was okay.

Everything is alright.

He paused his speed walk long enough to continue his breathing patterns. He focused on the feeling of nighttime air instead of the what-ifs. He looked up to gaze at the dim stars, barely visible from so much light pollution, but still a soothing presence. With each time he counted a second of breathing in, he counted another star in the sky. The sight of twinkling lights with a bright moon in the sky was more than calming. It reminded him of the nights he’d spend on his parents roof, looking up and not bothering to think about what was down on Earth.

Up there, everything was quiet. Peaceful. There was no sound or responsibility. No student loans or nightmares, only emptiness with chunks of rock and gas. The chaos was too far away for you to really be bothered with it, you could watch from afar and be completely safe on your own floating rock. Out there, nothing mattered.

Virgil closed his eyes and took a deep breath in. Everything is quiet. Everything would be okay.

The peacefulness was all that really mattered.

“Why hello, handsome!”

“Fuck!”

Virgil’s whole body jolted like an electric shock when an unexpected hand touched his shoulder. He yanked his earbuds out and turned to his attacker with wide eyes, fully ready to fucking slice the dude.

The idiot only smiled and waved. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you so badly! Are you alright?”

Virgil blinked. “Uh, yeah. I’m fine, thanks.”

Before he could put his earbuds back in, the guy put both his hands on Virgil’s biceps and pulled his arms down. Virgil was fully ready to knock his teeth out and make a run for it, but before he could reel his arm back, he noticed blood and scratches all over the guy’s face.

Virgil did a double take at him long enough for the guy to get his damn hands off of him and smile. “I mean more than you being okay after I scared you. You seem to be quite on edge in general.”

Bitch, why do you care? “Well, it’s the asscrack of night, better be safe than sorry if you don’t wanna get murdered.”

He laughed. “Fair point, fair point. And what are you doing out at a time you call ‘the asscrack of night’, as you so elegantly worded it?”

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “How about it’s none of your business?”

The guy put his hand on his chest in feign offense. “So cruel to me! Here I was, trying to be a humble citizen and help you out, and this is the thanks I get?”

He rolled his eyes. “Get used to disappointment. The only reason I didn’t pummel you is because you look like a wreck.”

The guy put a hand to his face. “Is it the blood?”

“It’s definitely the blood.”

“Ugh, I suppose that’s what I get for trying to have a good time so late in the night! I’ll admit, I’m exhausted and also a little buzzed. So maybe trying to befriend a cat at 3 in the morning wasn’t my greatest idea.”

“It looks like that cat wanted to gut you alive.”

“... I’m not the best with animals.”

Virgil couldn’t help but roll his eyes and laugh. Something about a tipsy guy trying to flirt after being attacked by a cat was hilarious. “You sound like an idiot.”

“Just a little bit! But that’s what’s so endearing about me, I like to imagine.”

“You keep imagining then, Princey.”

The guy seemed to freeze in place. “... Princey?”

Virgil’s eyes widened, awkwardly coughing to try and play himself off as collected. Damnit Virgil, play it off! “Well I don’t know your name, and you sound like a spoiled, dramatic prince, so… You’re Princey now.”

The guy chuckled. Nailed it. “I guess that makes sense, I am very dramatic. But that’s just what makes me wonderful.”

“You tell yourself that.”

Virgil started to walk ahead of Princey, only for him to stumble over his feet to keep his pace with Virgil. At least he wasn’t too drunk, and he certainly didn’t seem harmless. Of course, Virgil hadn’t known him that long, but right now he just seemed like a major dork who wanted to talk to someone.

Relatable, honestly.

The guy kept his pace next to Virgil, though staying a reasonable distance away before standing up proudly and smiling again. “Though if you want to know my real name...it’s Roman. Roman Goldsberry.”

Virgil hummed. “S’up Roman. I’m not telling you my name, though.”

Roman gasped. “Why not!?”

“Because I’m not gonna make it that easy for you to find where I live and murder me.”

Roman shrugged and nodded his head. “Okay, fair. I guess.”

“Maybe if I meet you in a less sketchy place, I’ll consider telling you my name.”

“I suppose I’ll have to call you something else until then. Something that suits you.”

“Oh really? What do you think suits me?” Virgil asked.

“Something dark and brooding, maybe with a dash of paranoia. After all, that hoodie you have is quite the emo aesthetic.”

“You picked up my vibes pretty quickly there, damn.”

“I have many talents! Now, as for something to call you…” Roman seemed to think about it for a long time, “...I think I’ll call you Emo Nightmare!”

Virgil reeled. “...Thank you. Best compliment I’ve ever gotten.”

Roman pouted like a toddler who dropped their candy. “Compliment!? Well now I can’t call you that! If you’re going to be so rude to me, then I should be able to be rude back!”

Virgil smirked, “Really now? Go ahead then, make a nickname that offends me.”

Roman seemed to think about it again, “Gerard Wayward?”

“Clever, but I don’t think you know what wayward means.”

“I’m only warming up! How about Brad Pitiful?”

“That one’s just funny.”

“Count Woelaf!”

“My feelings have yet to be hurt.”

“Surly Temple? JD-lightful? Incredible Sulk?”

“Literally where the fuck are you getting these?”

Roman put his hands on his hips. “I’m good at improv! Oh! What about Henry Ravens-brood?”

Virgil put an offended hand to his chest. “Now that one is mean. Congrats Princey, you just offended me.”

Roman clapped his hands together. “Fantastic! I knew I could- wait...you know Phantom Manor?”

Virgil shrugged. “What can I say, I’m a Disney fan.”

“You? A fan of fairytales and magic? I find that hard to believe based on your everything.”

“You barely even know me dude, don’t give yourself so much credit.” Virgil tried not to smile at Roman’s dramaticized offense. “And that’s way too much of an oversimplification for Disney. I mean seriously, Constance Hatchaway fucking murdered ten of her husbands! Who even marries that many people?”

“I’ll have you know that she had five husbands, not ten! Also that hardly counts, it’s a ride all about ghosts! Of course people have to die!”

“Doesn’t mean she had to hack them to death. They could have toned down the axe murdering part.”

“Please, that’s nothing compared to the scene where Mufasa gets trampled. It’s not like you watch the murder happen, you only see it implied with the paintings and when her bouquet turns into an axe on the ride!”

Virgil smirked. “So you admit that Disney can get dark sometimes.”

Roman scoffed, seemingly at a loss of words. “I never said that!”

“You literally just said that Mufasa’s death scene is really dark.”

“It was a necessary part of the plot! Simba would have grown up to be a selfish king who only cared for power if he didn’t have to save everyone from Scar!”

“Doesn’t change the fact that it’s super dark and not just ‘fairytales and magic’, Princey.”

Roman did an overdramatic, offended gasp as his hand went to his chest once again. Is that the only emotion this dude knows? “I can not believe you! Twisting my words in such a fiendish way!”

“Seriously dude, are you a clown or some shit as your day job? Because the way you act is kind of hilarious.”

The offense dropped from Roman’s face almost immediately, replaced with a soft, yet still prideful smile better fit for this time at night. “I’m going to ignore the clown part and say that actually, I’m an actor for the community theater only a couple blocks from here. That usually tends to explain my behavior to people.”

“Sounds about right, yeah. You any good?” Virgil asked.

“I like to imagine so! In three days from now, I’ll be playing the lead of Fiddler on the Roof for our fall musical! I’m usually too busy to make the bigger shows, but I tried my best to find the time this year.” Roman’s proud smile faltered for a moment into something softer, more sad. Like he was suddenly grieving a lost memory. “...Though I might end up having to miss it after all.”

Virgil tilted his head to the side. “Why’s that?”

Roman shrugged, and for a second, Virgil could see past the dramatics and pride. He looked lonely, almost. “Personal stuff. Since you won’t even tell me your name, I believe I’m inclined to keep that information to myself.”

“You always tease people this much?”

Roman chuckled. “Not usually. But I am exhausted, so maybe I’m a little slap happy.”

Virgil pulled out his phone to look at the time. 4:19 AM. Holy shit. “Yeah, no wonder. It’s late as shit, and I gotta wake up at eleven today.”

“I think maybe you should go home then. I would offer to walk you, but considering you won’t say your name, I doubt you’ll let me know your address.”

“You got that right. You should go home too, before someone kidnaps you.”

Roman stopped suddenly, right below a street light. He turned around to face Virgil with such a sad smile, but Virgil couldn’t tell if that was from exhaustion or not. He looked at Virgil so softly for a long moment in a way that made him feel vulnerable. “Perhaps you’re right, but don’t worry your angsty heart about it, I can take care of myself.”

“Yeah, fair.”

“Though, you are making me think, Emo Nightmare.”

Virgil tried his hardest not to blush. “Think about what?”

“Maybe you would like to see the show?” Roman asked, “I won’t be able to participate, but I’d love to hear how it went. And if you like Disney, maybe you can appreciate a classic musical as well.”

Virgil shrugged. “I mean, maybe. What days?”

Roman straightened his maroon polo and brushed nonexistent dirt off one of his sleeves. “If you go to the Sanders Community Theater website, it’ll show you all the details. I would tell you myself, but it’s a lot of information, and I really need to be heading out, sadly.”

Virgil took one last look at Roman. Even with a scratched up face and knuckles, he still looked like the softest person Virgil could ever meet. He was dramatic yet funny, and he didn’t seem to actually want to cause any harm. If anything, he just seemed like a humble idiot who wanted to make a friend late at night. Considering Roman also called him handsome, maybe he wanted a little bit more, but Virgil didn’t really mind. For someone who was tipsy and exhausted at four in the morning, Roman seemed like a good guy.

Maybe he’s not so bad.

“I’ll, uh…” Virgil hesitated, “I’ll be sure to check it out if I can. We all need a break sometimes.”

“We do.” Roman whispered.

“Yeah, so go home and get some sleep. I know you’re tipsy, but don’t get yourself murdered by being out here all night.”

Roman let out a tired sigh, looking behind himself as if to check if he could see his destination from where he stood. “You’re right about that, Jack Skellington. But I have one more pit stop to make, so don’t worry about me. I know what I’m doing.”

“If you say so, I guess.”

Roman turned back to Virgil. “Though, if you’re interested...maybe you and I could swap phone numbers? So you can tell me about the show if you see it, and so our destined crossing on a raven black night doesn’t go to waste?”

Virgil snorted. “Raven black night?”

“I’m tired, shush. Let me be my own type of poetic.”

He rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say, I guess.”

Roman took out his phone and pressed a couple buttons before handing it to Virgil. Virgil stared at it before taking it with a smirk. “...Android, huh?”

Roman didn’t just roll his eyes, he rolled his entire head. “Oh, shush and put in the darn number!”

Virgil laughed but did as he was told anyway, putting in his number and saving the contact as Emo Nightmare before handing it back to Roman.

Roman smiled at the name so fondly Virgil’s heart almost broke. This dude’s gonna be pretty damn disappointed when he finds out my name is fucking Virgil, of all things. “Do you mind if I send you a text to make sure it works?”

“Nope.” Virgil said with a popped p.

Though, instead of sending a random letter or a hello like a normal fucking person, Roman posed under the street light and held his phone up for a selfie. He ran his hands through his hair in a fruitless attempt to fix its messiness but eventually gave up, smiling for the camera and dropping the pose long enough for Virgil to feel his phone buzz in his pocket.

Virgil pulled it out:

Unknown sent a photo

Unknown: Make sure to remember this beautiful face :P

He shook his head with disapproval, but also to hide his smile behind the safety of movement. “Seriously?”

“Don’t you worry Beetlejuice, you’ll get used to it after knowing me for long enough.” Roman tried to flip his hair back, but considering it was way too short to do so, it was a fail. “Though if I don’t respond to any texts you may send these next few days, don’t worry too much about it. I’m going to be awfully busy and won’t have my phone on me.”

“Alright, noted.” Virgil sighed and put his phone in his pocket. “Talk to you later then, Princey?”

“I sure hope so. Though, Brad Pitiful?”

“Pretty sure you already said that one, but yeah?”

“It’s 4:24 AM right now. Don’t forget that number. Considering it’s the time you last saw me, I’m sure it has some kind of luck to it.”

Virgil almost physically facepalmed at that. “You have such an ego.”

“It’s what people love about me!” Roman laughed as he dropped the overexaggerated smile for a second to replace it with seriousness. “Though, I am serious about you seeing the show. I think you’ll enjoy it.”

“Yeah, yeah, I heard you. I’ll look into it at least, promise. Though for now, I’m fucking tired and I gotta go.”

Roman hummed, and without another word, the two turned in opposite directions to head to their next destination. Which for Virgil, was straight to bed until he woke up wondering if all of this was a fever dream. He did hear one last thing be called out to him: “So long, Dark and Stormy Night!”

Virgil didn’t respond, he only waved behind himself and hoped Roman saw it. When he turned the corner and was for sure away from Roman’s sight, he pulled out his phone and went to his contacts.

New contact added: Prince Underarm Stink

Satisfied with himself, Virgil walked the next couple blocks back to his apartment. Once he opened the door, he crashed onto his bed without bothering to change, letting sleep overcome his body as fast as it had woke him up in the first place.

I’ll text him tomorrow morning, he thought, just to test it out. Even if he doesn’t respond.

That was the last thing Virgil thought before he fell right to sleep.

***

It had been three days since the night Virgil met Roman. He’s sent one text every morning since then, but had yet to get a response to any of them. Considering Roman said he would be busy, he wasn’t too worried. If Roman didn’t respond in more than a week, though, he would consider himself ghosted.

Oh well, it was a stretch thinking the cute guy I met at 4 AM would text me back anyway.

On the third morning, Virgil sent a text saying You there yet??? Lol, before packing up his stuff and starting to walk to his classroom campus.

The walk was normal, nothing but other college students bumping into each other on the street and in the hallways until he made it to his classroom, leaning back in his seat and checking his phone.

No text messages, but he did have a couple notifications on Tumblr. Not surprising, but it was still something to occupy himself with.

A few more kids entered the classroom, stopping in the doorway right behind Virgil. “D’you know anything about this?” One of them asked.

“Nope. The guy doesn’t look familiar.” The other said.

“Damn. A ten thousand dollar reward would do wonders for a college loan.”

Virgil slowly lowered his phone back into his pocket at the sound of cash. With this amount of eavesdropping, he felt like a cartoon character with their ear growing five times in size.

“That could pay one year’s worth of a dorm. Ten grand doesn’t do shit for loans anymore.”

“Still dude, that’s ten grand you don’t gotta work for. I wish I had that.”

“Then go looking for information on this guy, I guess.”

The first guy laughed. “Maybe! I hope they find him, though. It’s always sad to hear about missing people. They usually find their bodies, like, a month later.”

“Yeah, well, people are fucked up. Now come on, I need your notes.”

“Again!? Dude, you’re a damn mooch.”

The two voices faded away to Virgil’s left as they walked away. Once the two guys sat down, Virgil turned around to squint at a paper he hadn’t noticed when he first walked in, even getting out of his chair to take a better look.

Though the moment he got closer, Virgil felt his stomach fill with lead.

Missing: Roman Goldsberry. Last seen October 2nd. Virgil stared at it for a suspicious amount of time. His eyes were widened like a bug ready to be squashed, ripping the paper off the wall and taking a closer look. No matter how many times he squished the paper to his face and examined every letter written, the facts were logically unmistakable. This is the guy I met.

The guy I met on October 3rd.

Virgil wanted to vomit. It couldn’t be him. It just couldn’t be. Stuff like this doesn’t just happen, you don’t meet someone only for them to go missing that same fucking day!

Is this why he wasn’t responding to his phone!? Because someone grabbed him off the street and locked him in a truck!? Because he’s somewhere in the middle of the woods, probably being tortured right this second!?

It isn’t him. It can’t be. I’m remembering it wrong. Missing people just freak me out. They’re not. The same. Person.

Virgil felt a lightbulb go off in his head. The photo.

Roman took a photo of himself before they parted ways. He’d even said not to forget his face with that stupid egotistical smile that made Virgil wanna roll his eyes so far they went into the back of his head.

Grabbing his phone was like trying to grab an ice cube off the floor, but Virgil managed it, shakily opening his phone and going into his recent contacts.

Picture, picture, picture...there!

Virgil put his phone and the paper on his desk and compared them. Same hair color. Same hair style. Same smile. Same eyes. The only difference is the clothing.

He didn’t want to believe it. He wanted to pick apart every possible difference in the photos until he somehow managed to convince himself they were different people. But there was no way. Even in his hysteria, there was no way he could ignore that he had seen someone hours before their possible demise.

...He couldn’t stay here listening to a lecture. He didn’t care about his grade tanking because of a zero on attendance, or about the homework he’d miss turning in if he left, he had to do something. He had to help somehow, even if Virgil didn’t know exactly what he was doing.

The professor had just stepped in front of the class and started to speak. Virgil grabbed his bag and didn’t hear a word that was said.

He ran out the door and didn’t come back.

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #virgil sanders #ts virgil #ts roman #roman sanders #lasting impressions #blood mention #kidnapping #nightmares #anxiety #death mention #murder mention #alcohol mention #drunkenness #prinxiety #platonic prinxiety #ts sides

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loquaciousquark · 4 years

Text

Cut for talk of COVID and irresponsible failure to social distance (my own). Also, some updates on what’s been going on here for the last month or so.

part one:

Very very long story that I am truncating as much as possible. As you all know, I am an optometrist and professor. When we shut down in March, our university made a huge, painful shift to remote learning and our student clinic ceased operations altogether. Neither students nor faculty saw patients from March 15 - the the middle of May. At the end of May, faculty began seeing patients directly in an extremely reduced schedule, and at the beginning of June, we began adding in very limited numbers of students in a rolling schedule that minimized exposure to all involved.

Three weeks ago, my dear friend Jasper contacted me and said that an old friend of hers, whom I will call Carol, was in dire straits after losing her job overseas. Carol has an extremely rocky history: a terrible car accident that left her legs and feet permanently damaged which directly led to a very bad divorce, significant student loan debt (just shy of six digits I think, compounded from the accident, since she used her student loans to pay her medical bills--for anyone reading this, do not EVER EVER EVER DO THIS--student loans are never touched by bankruptcy declarations and you will owe them until you die), and something of an inability to put down roots. She is an English teacher who has taught and traveled all over the world: Prague, Bahrain, Czech Republic, Los Angeles, Rio, etc.

When I first met her about ten years ago, she had come back to Alabama from Prague because a job had fallen through. She was completely broke and living out of two suitcases and a carry-on. She lived with us for three months for free, sleeping in Jasper’s bed because we had no other room for her, and eventually got a job in Boston and moved on. She lasted--I think--about two months in Boston before quitting and taking a job in the Middle East.

On top of her student loan debt, Carol also has significant IRS debt and is in debt to several of her friends. Over the last few years, she took several ill-advised positions overseas back to back without ever consulting a lawyer on her contracts, and did not realize until recently that one of her positions classified her as an independent contractor instead of an employee, so she owed US taxes on all her income for that period of time. Her most recent job in Prague she lost in February because she filed her visa (again, without a lawyer) incorrectly, and what should have been a brief three-week stay outside of the country became a six week stay on the couch of strangers in the Czech Republic while she waited for her visa reapplication to process. However, it was denied, and then COVID hit, and she returned to Alabama with only a portion of her possessions and tons of important paperwork left behind in her Prague apartment. She then unfortunately had two emergency surgeries on her stomach for an acute, unpredictable medical issue, and while she is well healing now, it also added on another forty thousand dollars of medical debt to what she already owed.

She stayed with her mother and sister while she was recovering from the emergency surgeries, but her family is emotionally abusive and very unkind to her, and after a few weeks she left their home and went to stay with Jasper. However, Jasper is also 8 months pregnant with her fourth child, and they both knew it was a temporary thing. Jasper knows that I have a large home with several spare bedrooms, and asked if I would be willing to host Carol for a period of time while she got back on her feet. I knew what I was agreeing to when I said yes, and Carol and I settled on a period of two months. She has now been here almost three weeks.

Frankly, I do not like Carol very much. We are unbelievably different people in every way--personality, temperament, proclivity to crying in front of other people, hobbies, interests, religion, all of it. She is a very nice person, and I think she truly does mean well. But she is the most emotionally needy and energy-sapping person I have ever met, and I cannot tolerate her company in more than small chunks. It is not possible to hold a conversation with her about any subject tangentially related to her difficulties; if I try to sympathize with her loans by mentioning my own, she shuts me down by saying at least I will have the chance to ever pay them back. If I just try to listen without commentary, she’ll wrap herself up in her own stories and talk for hours without ever needing more than “mm”s and “hm”s and my undivided attention the entire time.

She will often work herself up into sobbing tears over her situation(s), and she always informs me immediately of any new development in any of her numerous trials: which are usually negative, considering the situation, and usually resulting in more tears. She has cried on me probably more than a dozen times since she moved in, and she wields “I love you” like a weapon, more to hear the validation of the response than to truly express the sentiment. She constantly asks for advice on her situation but does not listen to any of it--seems more to just want to relive each tragic detail of her life over and over again with an audience, wondering why she’s continually “screwed over in her life.” (Really, really poor financial decisions and constantly trusting her own “intuition” over getting competent legal advice before signing contracts, are I think the biggest contributors.) She has told me so many private details about her personal views, relationships with her ex-husband and mother and sister, her financial choices, and her extensive travel and job history over the last few years that I probably know her history better than my own at this point.

I think she thinks by sharing so much that she is justifying to me her need to stay with me. What is actually happening is that I am forced to help shoulder this enormous emotional load that compounds my own mental health problems I’ve been having since all this started. I have told her more than once that she does not need to justify herself to me and that my home is open to her for two months, no strings attached. I believe she is making all the steps she needs to and do not need reports on her daily activities to “pay” for her lodging or electricity or internet or whatever. This has changed the behavior a little for the better but not stopped it.

There are moments that are not bad. As I have mentioned, she does mean well and want well for most people. She likes Hamlet and loves Jasper, who is extremely important to me. But she is extremely difficult to be around in so many other ways, and the way she constantly exclaims over how we basically think alike on all things (absolutely untrue) makes me think she either will not or cannot read my reluctance to engage on any of these topics.

(An example: I was watching footage of the SpaceX launch and despite my feelings on Elon Musk, really excited about the implications for space travel. She came in, and after misunderstanding for some time that I was not watching Space Force with Steve Carell, decided that the SpaceX program was morally bankrupt, obviously borne of shady backroom government deals, and everyone involved should have used the money to solve world hunger instead. For the record, she had not heard of the shuttle launch, SpaceX, or Elon Musk at all before the seeing the footage.)

(She also until last week had not heard of Playstation, Xbox, streaming as a concept, or any game more modern than the original Mario. Trying to order a grocery delivery online was an excruciating torment for her [took her over four days to get through selecting the items, selecting allowable replacements, and actually paying] and I will not ask her to do it again. She frequently makes comments about video games being a waste of time, and when she sees children playing outside, comments on how glad she is they are not inside playing video games. She doesn’t seem to realize her comments are a direct commentary on me; I think she genuinely does not understand that those games are what I am playing most of my free time.)

Right now, everything seems to hinge on her passing some teacher recertification tests next week and the week after. She spent $150 to give herself less than a week to study from scratch for a test she described as the hardest she’d ever taken. There were several other dates later in the summer she could have chosen, and her deadline is December, but she picked the soonest option for reasons I can’t fathom. She is also in the process of trying to get a car--right now I’m driving her everywhere--and she was ready to hand over $3800 yesterday for a ten-year-old Hyundai with a check-engine light on without even thinking of getting any kind of inspection. She is far more concerned with the color and “energy” of the car than its function, and would not have even checked the headlights and blinkers if I hadn’t prompted it.

She will be here another five weeks or so. We move around each other now better than we did before, and I hope it will continue to improve. But it’s a lot like a rock grinding a groove in the streambed from the repetitive friction, and it’s not the struggle I wanted to be having right now.

part two:

As I mentioned above, Jasper is having her fourth child in a month or so. One of her friends, someone I don’t know, contacted me and said she wanted to do a drive-by “baby sprinkle,” where no one gets out of their cars. You drop off the gifts, talk to the recipient a few minutes from the car window, and move on. I told her that I work in health care and am exposed to patients, so that sounded good to me.

The shower was this morning. Carol and I got up and drove the thirty minutes to Jasper’s house. There were four other families in cars right around the corner, and the “hostess” gave us all balloons to tie on our side mirrors. She told us we would drive around the corner, drop off the gifts, and loop around. Jasper’s husband would arrange for her to be in the front yard at the right time.

Cute enough. We go around the corner with little honks and Jasper sees us and starts crying, and it’s all wonderful and emotional and a fabulous surprise and I’m genuinely excited about it. And then people start parking and getting out of their cars, and Carol and I start looking at each other. They’re full families, too--three of the other moms brought all their kids, and soon enough they’re playing with Jasper’s three boys in the front yard and coming up asking to pet Hamlet through the car window. No one was wearing masks.

And what’s worse, when they all started looking at us expectantly through the car window, we didn’t know what to do. They were handing Jasper her gifts and obviously settling in for a good long chat; the women were hugging, talking about how they are “so over this COVID stuff, please come visit soon,” and Hamlet of course recognizes his original owners in Jasper and her husband so he’s freaking out, and after a few moments, we decided to just get out of the car.

It was the first time I really felt the social pressure to participate in an event I wasn’t comfortable with. I have no issue maintaining my social distance and my mask and my handwashing at work because that is where I have the position of authority, and I have the responsibility to model it for the students and patients--but here, I was a guest at someone else’s house at someone else’s event, and I really, really felt how they might perceive me as rude. While I didn’t know the other women, my relationship with Jasper is extremely important to me, and I didn’t want to make this special event for her difficult in any way.

So we got out of the car and joined the group. I tried to keep my distance as much as possible, especially since I had Hamlet on the leash and there were a half-dozen small children around, but at least twice I looked up and there was someone right at my elbow, and we made small talk for five minutes or so before either she drifted back to the group or I moved Hamlet into the shade away from the rest.

Cars drove by and slowed down more than once to look at us. Jasper’s husband made a comment about rolling his eyes if he saw their family on Facebook that evening. The women planned play dates, all standing very close together, and Jasper opened her gifts (that part was excellent). All in all we were probably there about twenty minutes.

I should mention that on the drive there, we passed a public park that has a very pretty waterfall right next to the road, and there were probably a dozen families out playing. There was a festival/outdoor market right outside the the park that had a sign up about social distancing, but the fifty or so people we saw shopping there were not adhering in any meaningful way. No one wore a mask.

And what annoys the bejeezus out of me is that I didn’t either. I didn’t even think about it until after we finally got back in the car to drive away. This is the first social event I’ve gone to since the first week of March, and while I wear masks for eight+ hours every day I go in to work, it didn’t occur to me even a single time to put on even my little cloth one that I keep in the car until we were driving away afterwards. I was so flummoxed by every little thing happening differently than I expected--people getting out of cars, how surprised I was by my own susceptibility to not rocking the boat, how normal everyone else made it to stand so close they could bump elbows so that Carol and I became almost excluded from the circle--that it never once crossed my mind. I know masks are more for the protection of those around you, not to keep you from catching what other people are carrying, but I could have set an example. I could have been the health professional I should have been in the moment.

I’m just so disappointed in myself. Disappointed in my own carelessness, irritated that I didn’t say anything, continually frustrated in a deep, gut-wrenching way by the whole situation that requires this in the first place. Bewildered that so many people are “back to normal” while this thing is still spreading, and in brutal honesty wishing I could be like them and just give up the fight myself. I’m not even mad at them. I WANT TO BE THEM. Why am I continually bothering to care and sanitize and mask and stay at home when no one else is? Literally no one would judge me in this state for it more than I’m already being judged (in most cases impersonally, though I felt the potential for it today in specific) for still watching the recommended guidelines.

I am really, really sick of this. I am so sick of feeling alone in this (of being alone in this, and Carol doesn’t count). Hearing other people saying “there there, you’re doing the right thing” honestly makes it even worse. I want people to stop patronizingly telling me to do things I already know are the right thing to do. I want other people as mad as I am that I can’t do the things I want to and need to do instead of being endlessly patient and noble about all the lives they’re saving by staying home. I’m top-of-my-head-blowing-off furious that so many people are shrugging and saying “well this is just the way it will be forever and alas, so it goes” and acting like those of us who did the right thing and cancelled our plans and our trips and our visits to dear friends but who are mad about having to do it are overreacting. I’m so fucking mad about it. I’ve stayed home for two months and I’ve isolated and I’ve quarantined and my hands are cracking from the constant sanitizer/washing at work and except for today I’ve done everything I’m supposed to do for this, and I don’t want to do it. And seeing people be so heroically virtuous and longsuffering on Facebook feels as alien and upsetting to me as the people who go to the beaches with a hundred of their closest friends.

That’s probably unfair in myriad ways. I’m really too angry, including at myelf, to soften it right now.

I want a vaccine and I want to be back in my classroom teaching to fifty faces instead of a screen in my living room, and I’m honestly freaking sick of waiting at home for them to figure this out. And watching everyone else move on with their lives back to the normal I would kill to have is just one more crack in the dike.

#quark rambles #this got really personal and mad #so sorry about that #coronavirus for ts #covid-19 for ts #quarantine for ts #carol #jasper #long post for ts

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letmetellyouaboutthiscountry · 4 years

Text

I'm mad.

There are people I have a class with who think, out of the lineup of Democratic candidates, that Amy Klobuchar and Pete Buttegieg are the most likely to win. If they think that, there is definitely a larger base of people who feel the same way. Fuck that, they're weak candidates and if the DNC chooses either of them, or Bloomberg, the Democrats WILL lose. Trump WILL be reelected.

So let me sell you on Bernie Sanders.

1. Education. His plan includes BOTH student loan forgiveness AND free higher education. That means more opportunity for people to get jobs, which is especially important because, in America, you need a college degree to get even entry level jobs.

2. Free/universal healthcare. If our Canadian neighbor can have universal healthcare and it's not a financial strain on their country, then why can't the U.S. do it too? If most of Europe has universal healthcare and it's not a burden, why can't we?

And before you say, "oh, but you'll have to wait six months before you can get an MRI" first of all, really think about that statement. If you're poor in this country and you need an MRI, you have to think really hard about how much you need it. People die because they decide they can't afford it. That's why we don't have to wait six months, because there are only two kinds of people who can get one: the rich elite and the people already on Medicare/Medicaid. But, not only is there a chunk of people who are poor and don't qualify for Medicaid, there is also a huge gap of people between super rich and dirt poor. Some are uninsured, some have straight up shitty healthcare packages.

And before you say "oh, but I have wonderful insurance through my employer and I don't want it to change" first of all, good for you. I mean that genuinely–thats great that you could get a job like that. But the bulk of the jobs here don't offer that. And, realistically, your insurance won't change. What will happen will be that everyone will have that insurance and the provider will be the government instead of your employer. You aren't losing anything.

3. Taxes. The ultra rich will finally be taxed. This will be the large part of how the country will pay for these programs. Instead of the poor and working classes carrying the financial burden of the country on their small backs, the rich will have to do their part and finally pay up. This will create a self-sufficiency for the country as a whole meaning we will have to borrow less from other countries. And the ultra-rich can, in fact, afford it. Trickle-down economics don't work purely for the fact that the rich, instead of giving the money down to the people under them, they hoard the money and fire the people under them, moving the jobs to another country that will cost them next to nothing to pay for.

4. Intelligence and fire. What we need to beat Trump is a candidate who is as equally fiery and Trump and a candidate who is as intelligent as Trump is dumb. Now, I recognize that, except for maybe Biden, all of the liberal candidates are smarter than the incumbent. I get this statement from the fact that they can all string together a coherent sentence, they have a semblance of a memory, and several of them can, in fact, carefully choose their words so that they don't sound like ignoramuses.

But the fact of the matter is that they don't get heated enough to stand against Trump. That's what makes him SEEM like a strong candidate. Bernie DOES get heated. He's ready to fight. That makes him the best candidate to stand up against Trump.

And I know some of you are thinking that Bernie is too old. He is old. But he's only five years older than Trump. They're within the same age range. Maybe that's still too old, but if the Republicans think it's an okay age, the Democrats can too.

Honestly, it's time to stop believing that the Dems have to take the high road. That doesn't work anymore. The status quo and the moderate stance is weak. The time for kindness is over. It's time for the moderate line straddlers to take a stand. Pick a side.

It's time for change and it has been time for change. Stagnation leads to death and extinction and that's exactly where we're headed if we continue with the status quo.

Vote.

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ask-de-writer · 5 years

Text

CARAMEL TREAT’S SWEETS : Part 2 of 4 : MLP Fan Fiction

Return to the Master Story Index Return to MLP Fan Fiction Return to Caramel Treat, werewolf

Caramel Treat’s Sweets

Part 2 of 4

by De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

18671 words

All rights reserved. This document may not be copied or distributed on or to any medium or placed in any mass storage system except by the express written consent of the author. ////////////// Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact. They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions. All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged. ///////////////////////

For those wishing to read the whole story, this link leads to the entire tale.

///////////////////////

<==Previous Next==>

“I hope that I won't disappoint you, but I don't think so. You spoke to me about how to make a business plan?

“I think that I know what I want to do. I love cooking, you know that. I want to set up a restaurant. I have an offer of a sound business loan to do it but I need a proper business plan to get the loan.”

Miss Cherrilee smiled and nodded. “No, dear. I am not disappointed. You are a truly talented cook. I suspect that your really keen werewolf senses have a lot to do with how well you can cook.” She reared up to get a book from a high shelf.

“Here, Caramel. This book should help you a lot. Please feel free to ask me anything after you have read it.”

Caramel thanked Miss Cherrilee and left with the book. Two days later, she returned the book.

“Thank you, Miss Cherrilee. It was a great help! Here. Would you please look this over and see if I have missed anything?”

Miss Cherrilee took the thin sheaf of papers in hoof and said, “I would be happy to, Caramel.”

Caramel noticed that Miss Cherrilee had a big pile of student papers to grade. “If you are going to look over my work, would you mind me helping you with yours? I can help you to grade these papers!”

The two mares sat happily at the desk, each looking over the other's work.

The next day, Brightmane and Caramel sat in the spacious lobby of the Equestrian National Bank. A business suited pony unctuously invited them, “Brightmane, please come into my office. We can discuss whatever business you have. I am sure that Equestrian National can meet your needs.”

Seated in his office, Brightmane smiled and handed over a paper. “All that I want is for you to notarize this loan that I am making.”

Without even looking at her paper he said in a prim voice, “Without the other principal to the loan present, I cannot do that.”

Brightmane's smile froze. “If you could be bothered to look at the paper, you would see that she is here. I am making my daughter Caramel Treat a business loan.”

He pulled back in irritation. “Equestrian National cannot underwrite a business loan to a minor.”

Brighmane stopped smiling altogether. In a flat voice, she stated, “We are NOT asking Equestrian National to underwrite the loan. It is from MY funds and being made to my daughter. I am cosigning for her as she is a minor. Just notarize our signatures!”

Forced into a corner by his previous refusals, he pushed the paper back. “A personal loan in the family does not require a Notary stamp.”

Brightmane, now furious, demanded, “HERE! You cannot legally refuse this!” She wrote briefly in her checkbook and hoofed over the slip.

He blanched as he saw it. “You can't be serious! A withdrawal of this magnitude, in coin!”

Brighmane curled her lip in a snarl that would have done credit to a wolf. “BY EQUESTRIAN LAW YOU HAVE 72 HOURS TO PRODUCE MY SEVEN MILLION, EIGHT HUNDRED FIFTY TWO THOUSAND THREE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY ONE GOLD, NINE SILVER AND THREE.

“According to the bank's last quarterly report, you have in the entire Equestrian National Bank, all branches included, cash reserves of only five million golden bits. How you raise the other more than two and a half MILLION golden bits is entirely YOUR problem!”

Caramel spoke quietly, “Mother, destroying the whole bank over this is not wise. We will simply go to Ponyville Trust and Loan. There, you can simply write a check for my one hundred and fifty thousand golden bits loan. I KNOW that they will notarize our agreement as a free service. They can simply present your check on a secure gold asset transfer.

“That will kick this specific pony in the rear and not wreck the whole bank. Losing this much business will tarnish HIS career and not do much other harm.”

Brightmane did smile at Caramel. “Well thought out, dear. Come, let us do that. We can move our assets in an orderly fashion. You are right. There is no need to wreck a bank, simply because one branch manager is an idiot.” She picked up the loan agreement and her check as they left.

Sitting together in Sugar Cube Corner, a bit later, sipping milkshakes and nibbling frosted oat cakes, Caramel observed, “That did not take long at all. The Trust and Loan really wanted our business.” She was admiring her new check book with the Ponyville Trust and Loan logo.

Together, they began to canvass the side of Ponyville closest to Brightmane's cottage in the fringes of the Everfree Forest. They found a dilapidated house for sale on a lot just across from a nice smallish park.

Brightmane watched with pride as Caramel checked out the structure and the condition of the property in general.

The Realtor from Shadyside Realty leaned back from his desk with a phony smile pasted onto his face and pointed out, “While that is a fine property, the house needing only a little work to be first rate, you, as a minor, cannot get a mortgage for it.”

Caramel, gestured her mother to silence and returned, “I do not need a mortgage. I can buy it with a single payment. The only real issue here is that you just lied about the condition of the house.

“It has a serious infestation of termites and several of the main supporting timbers have sufficient rot that the whole house needs to be torn down. That is a cost to set against the listed price of six thousand golden bits.

“Four would be about right under the circumstance. The demolition and removal will cost around two. I have the estimates right here.” She hoofed over several sheets for the agent.

The Realtor looked like he had just bit into an orange and discovered it was a lemon in disguise. He countered, “I have an appraisal right here and it says nothing about those so called defects.”

Caramel looked over the appraisal sheet and dropped it disdainfully back on his desk. “This is almost FOUR years old! Under Crowns Law it is worthless. If you do not have a more recent one, we are done here.”

Turning to Brightmane, Caramel said quietly, “Come, Mother. This pony is a good deal less than honest. He is right down there with Sawnax!”

Brightmane followed her daughter out of the Shadyside Real Estate office. Once outside, she asked, “How are we going to get the property if we don't deal with the Realtor, Caramel?”

Caramel, leading the way back toward downtown Ponyville, replied with a grin, “The appraisal was prepared for the Ponyville Trust and Loan! They are the actual OWNERS of the property.

“I think that they might be willing to sell it without having to pay a Realtor a commission and get a good chunk of cash at the same time.”

Brightmane regarded her daughter proudly as their hooves clopped quietly on the cobbled street. A few clouds floated in an otherwise clear sky.

Turning into the Ponyville Trust and Loan, they were greeted by a nice gray pony who informed them, “Mister Morgan is with another customer just now. Can I get you a warm drink while you wait? Rom black tea, perhaps?”

When it was their turn, they sat in Mister Morgan's office while Caramel explained the situation. He frowned as he heard about the assessment.

“You are sure that he did not have a more recent one? Just a moment.”

Mister Morgan left his office and returned with a modestly thick file. He rummaged through the assorted papers, some in the various colors of legal foreclosure warning notices. He pulled out a thin sheaf. He held it out for Caramel to see.

“This is the latest assessment. It is only two months old. As you can see from the notes, Shadyside Realty was given and signed for a copy. This assessment shows substantially the same situation that you described. I fear that the structure will have to be demolished.”

He sighed. “Our foreclosure lien is for 3500 gold. If you are to bear the cost of demolishing, that only leaves about 1500 plus some unavoidable legal costs. I suppose that we could let you have it as is for around 2000 plus closing costs.”

Caramel's brows pulled down in concentration. “You do all of your investing right here in Ponyville, right?”

Mister Morgan nodded seriously. “We founded our Trust and Loan to help the local community rather than a Board of Bankers that sits in Canterlot.”

Caramel smiled at that, nodding happily. “That was my understanding. I was prepared to give Shadyside Realtors 4000 gold bits, plus closing. Since this money will be going into the community rather than private pockets, let's go ahead and do it for that price.

“In spite of being higher than you were offering, it is less than I was prepared to pay. We both win. It does not hurt that Ponyville wins too. Shall I make it a check or do you want to simply debit my account?”

Walking home in the luminous evening, Brightmane told Caramel, “I could not be prouder of my sweet filly than I am today. You showed both good business sense and wisdom.”

Caramel smiled and rechecked her saddlebags as they reached the gate to their cottage. “Remember, Mother, tonight, I am cooking our dinner!”

Nurse Fields' happy voice came from the door opened in welcome, “I heard that! Brightmane, don't you dare try to stop her!”

It did take several days to get through the legal hoops to ownership of the lot. Caramel spent much of that time in conference with Houser, the architect and builder. Drawings and plans for her new restaurant got made.

Arrangements were made to remove the dilapidated old house on the lot.

Caramel was watching the crew that Houser had hired. The unicorns were working together to grab and rip off parts of the roof. Instead of simply dropping the pieces, they were loading them into a wagon for prompt removal. As quick as they uncovered structural parts like rafter beams, they pulled them out of their old place and set them out in neat piles for later sorting.

Another of the crew was dismantling the chimney. He was working with care and setting aside the stone, brick and expensive flue tiles in sorted piles.

The workers all took off to go get lunch at Sugar Cube Corner. In only a few minutes, a red pony with a yellow mane pulled up with a wagon and started to load up the chimney tiles.

Caramel asked, “What are you doing with my flue tiles? Those are valuable and we are saving them.”

He snorted, “Don't know much about it, do you, kid? I have bought all of this salvage from Sawnax. Paid good bits for it and I am just picking it up.”

Caramel got between him and the tiles. Still mild, she explained, “The problem is that my builder is Houser and the salvage is not for sale. Sawnax has cheated you. You should go to him and get your coin back.”

He made the mistake of pushing Caramel aside as he snapped, “I paid for them and I am going to have them!”

Her return sweep kick had his hind legs out from under him! She followed up by a nerve jab that paralyzed one of his front legs. He was struggling to rise when Caramel blew a police whistle.

Constable Crager came on the run. “What is it, Caramel?”

Ignoring the constable's asking Caramel, the fallen pony demanded, “Arrest her! She attacked me for no reason! I bought the whole salvage of this lot! I have a receipt and everything!”

Constable Crager listened and then demanded, “I must see that receipt. I already know that this lot and all on it belongs the this young mare.”

“That is crazy talk! Sawnax showed me the exact lot from that park over there!” He dug in his saddlebag and produced a somewhat wrinkled receipt. “See? It says right on it, all salvageable masonry and usable timbers, including chimney tiles!”

Examining the receipt, Constable Crager nodded, “It does say that. There is one small problem. The listed address is 421 Blackberry Lane. This lot is 318 Mane street.”

Caramel quietly pointed across the way, to the park. Sawnax was sitting where he could watch the whole mess. He was laughing.

Constable Crager trotted across to the park and spoke to Sawnax at length. He gave Sawnax a paper, which Sawnax took petulantly.

The Constable returned and gave a second paper to the pony who had been stopped from taking Caramel's salvage.

Staring at the sheet incredulously, he asked, “I got to go to court?”

“Yes, Sir. You do. You and Sawnax will dispute your case before Judge Coldheart. He will decide which of you owes whom and how much.

“The alternative is that I simply arrest you for attempted theft. The court is cheaper and will not give you a criminal record.”

As he was glumly leaving, Houser and his crew showed up.

After explaining to Houser about the happenings while his crew was away, they got back to work. The old house's basement proved to be both large and dry, showing no sign of any moisture damage at all.

Caramel consulted with Houser about incorporating the basement into the new shop's design. She pointed out, “This will greatly improve my storage area for provisions. It will be cool, too. That will help things to last.”

Houser nodded and pointed to his plan drawings. “We did not know the condition of the basement when I made these. I was figuring to fill it in and use support blocks here and here. We simply make them into pillars footed on the basement floor, which is solid. There should be a loading ramp cut in at the back so that you can have carts unload into the basement easily. A stair case over here, and that will be all that there is to it.

“It will only add about a thousand bits to the overall cost and you will have total access to it, from both inside and out.”

Caramel nodded as she worked it out in her head and then examined the drawings again. “Can we put the staircase over here, instead? That will make it handier to the kitchen area.”

Houser agreed at once. “I see what you mean. For such a young mare, you are very sharp. I like the idea of a smaller kitchen for experimenting with new recipes. It will allow the development of new dishes without disrupting the main kitchen.”

Caramel smiled brightly as she replied, “That is the idea!”

Houser returned her smile, thinking of both the good idea and the addition to his profits. “I will get right on the modifications! I will have working drawings for your approval tomorrow. If you like them, I will do the detailed plans at once.”

“That will be fine, Mister Houser. I will not be free until noon at the earliest. I have two issues of civil business to bring before Judge Coldheart.”

“I see, Caramel. Good luck to you on them.”

Smiling broadly, Caramel replied, “Luck favors the well prepared. I will leave you to finish this salvage work. I need to prepare the information that I am going to need for tomorrow.”

The somewhat puzzled Houser watched Caramel trot off in the direction of the Ponyville town hall.

The next morning, Caramel packed her saddlebags carefully, being sure to organize the many papers that she had accumulated the day before.

Brightmane asked anxiously, “Are you sure that you don't want me to come to court with you, dear?”

Nurse Fields wiped her lips with a napkin and replied for Caramel, “Yes, Brightmane, she is sure. She has only told you so three times, so far.

“Caramel, the breakfast was lovely. Thank you.”

Caramel set out into the early predawn light that made the Everfree Forest seem so lovely and serene. She had an escort of five big, full grown Everfree Ridgeback wolves. Over the years, the Stone Ridge Pack had grown used to her presence and accepted her, not exactly as one of their own, but as one who belonged and could be counted on to help the hunt.

They knew that, though she was going into Ponyville, where they would not go, that she was on a hunt of her own. They were offering her their assistance, as she had assisted them in the past. Caramel appreciated the support.

She took her leave of the pack, with the usual friendly butt sniffing and light roughhousing. Going around the hill of Red Hoof, she went straight into town.

Arriving at the Town Hall, she went inside, and took a place in Judge Coldheart's courtroom. A little later, the big red pony came in, followed by Sawnax.

Sawnax immediately began, “What are you doin' here, Brat? Get out now! You got no reason to be here!”

He was hauling back to give her the back of his hoof, when he saw her smile of anticipation. He had run into her Han Fu skills before. Growling, he lowered his hoof.

They heard, “All rise for His Honor, Judge Coldheart!”

They did, and Judge Coldheart, in his formal robes of office, took his place at the bench. He struck a gavel and declared, “Order, in this court!”

Sawnax reluctantly settled down. He had been here enough in the past that he knew the routine, and the cash cost of disobedience.

“We shall hear Petty Criminal maters first.

“Sawnax, you stand accused of violations of the Protective Order granted to Miss Cherrilee's School. During the course of that violation, you further broke the Edict of Equality by verbal outburst in the hearing of the Constable.

“How do you plead? You may plead only guilty or not guilty. Silence will be taken as a guilty plea.”

Sullenly, Sawnax replied, “Guilty, I guess. I thought that the Order was over, once the Brat, there was out of the school! I went in to get her out of the School, where she had no business at all!

“As for Edict of Equality, I have tried to warn you and the town, once she is turned, that Werewolf will lose all reason and become a ravening, murderous monster! The Edict won't apply but it will be too late for her victims!”

The judge curled a lip disdainfully. “Guilty on all counts! You are fully aware that you have just lied! You have seen Caramel Treat changed to a wolf on many occasions. She, unlike some Werewolves, does retain her reason and emotional control.

“You are fined one hundred golden bits! This is added to the sum of four thousand gold, twenty two and seven that are presently outstanding debits to this court! You may not leave the court until payment arrangements have been made.”

Sawnax ground his teeth in rage as he returned to his place.

The judge called out, “Now we will hear civil actions.

“Those whose things have no dispute may come forth to be heard and dealt with.”

Caramel stepped up to the bench. She laid a small sheaf of papers on the counter before Judge Coldheart. “I have passed my civil cart handling license. Because I am still legally a minor, it needs your signature.

“Under that, Your Honor will find my wholesale provision purchase license for the restaurant that I am now having built. It is formally granted already. That also needs your signature.

“The rest, Houser sent along with me. They are the permits needed to erect the structure and link it to Ponyville's utilities. Again, all have the approval of the inspectors involved and simply need your signature to complete them.”

Nodding, the judge hoofed through the stack and signed where needed, returning copies to Caramel.

He commented, “It is good to see one so young, getting such a fine start in life.”

“I do have one more thing, Your Honor. I want a protective order to keep both Sawnax and the members of the Celestian Church away from my establishment. Here is why.

“This is an 'assessment of a freely given donation' of 100 gold a month to the Church to purchase Celestia's Blessing, without which, disaster is sure to follow. Members of the Celestian congregation to be allowed to dine for free.”

Examining the 'assessment', Judge Coldheart nodded, “Against the Church and its members, no problem. The order, with a delivery receipt, will be delivered to you as soon as service has been made.”

“Thank you, Your Honor. What about Sawnax? He continues to slander me and has as a part in the next case. He tried to sell my salvage materials to mister Red Clyde for the sum of 150 golden bits.

“His fraud garnered gold from mister Clyde, and was intended to make me a victim through the loss of my building materials.”

Sawnax promptly brayed, “She don't know that! Red and me was in the park across the street! No way could she hear us.”

Caramel tapped an ear. “Werewolf, remember? Hyperacute senses. Hearing especially. I heard the whole scam.

“Besides, you put the 421 Blackberry Lane address on the receipt. You neither own that lot nor the salvage rights. The lot is owned by Ponyville Trust and Loan. I have here their written statement that they would not sell you salvage rights due to past misconduct.

“Here, Judge Coldheart. See for yourself.”

The judge did look everything over and smiled. “I see why you want a protective order against Sawnax. Granted. Wait a few moments.” He took out a form and began filling it in.

Hoofing it to the bailiff, he instructed, “Serve this at once on Sawnax. He must sign the service receipt or I will sign it for him.

“Remand Mister Sawnax to the Jail until a bail hearing. This business has gone far past a mere civil case. This is a criminal fraud.”

Caramel took all of her papers, thanked the judge, and left.

At the building site, Houser looked about at his busy crew. The old building was almost gone. He hoofed through his permits and smiled, “Didn't take you too long, Caramel. Thanks. Everything is in order, I see.”

Caramel invited, “Let's all go over to the park. I brought you all lunch!”

Seated around a table, Caramel hoofed out big wrapped submarine sandwiches and cups. She added a big flagon of tea. “I got you Rom black tea on ice. The subs are just sprouts, tomato, onion, green peppers and my secret sauce.”

The whole crew fell to. One stared at Caramel and stated, “That sauce is something else! I never had a sub that good before!”

Caramel nodded happily and hoofed out popped barley and almond bars as a desert. “I will be having these and the subs in my restaurant.”

The worker's buddy just grabbed him and hauled toward the work site. “Come on, guys! We have a restaurant to build!”

Houser observed, “That is the most enthusiasm I have seen in one of my work crews in a long time! If you keep supplying lunches like this, I will be needing to beat away would be workers with a club!” He chuckled.

By early afternoon the old building was totally cleared away. The ground of the entire lot was being probed by unicorns with pest control certification to locate and destroy problems like termite nests and ant hills. They found only a little to deal with.

Soon the batter boards were up and the string layouts for the building to come were being set.

An ill favored unicorn with blotchy pastel blue fur and a stringy purple mane strode arrogantly up. He had a large so-called “Celestian” medallion on and wore scarf like cloth called a stole, richly ornamented with “solar” designs.

Lifting his nose as if he smelled something foul, he demanded, “I am Junior Priest of Celestia's Holy Truth, Hillbury. You are late with your freely given good will donation of 100 golden bits to our Church. You were instructed to deliver the payment in coin to the Church no later than noon!

“You are in serious danger of having Celestia's Blessing on your enterprise withdrawn! Disaster is sure to follow!”

Caramel smiled as she pulled out her police whistle. “Really? We must put that to the test.

“You do know that you are violating the protective order of Judge Coldheart. I am sure that you also know that your demands and threats make your so called freely given gifts extortion. That is a felony.” She blew a shrill, warbling blast on the whistle!

Junior Priest Hillbury snorted, “The orders of a Lesser Being have no authority over a True Unicorn!”

He reared impressively, gathering his dirty yellow magic about his horn. He lashed out at the work site, snapping the carefully set strings and knocking over two of the batter boards!

Caramel reared too! Her right hoof slashed out in a straight punch to the side of Hillbury's neck!

He was driven from his legs, falling heavily! Caramel leaped in gracefully and struck a light blow up high on Hillbury's neck, just under the skull! She followed with two quick taps beside his horn, one on each side of it!

The Junior Priest was struggling in vain to rise. Caramel slapped his head! “Now that I have your attention, LISTEN! Your LIFE depends on it! If you try to use your magic at all, you will die!

“I have temporarily disabled your horn! If you try to use it, the magic backblast will destroy your brain. You can feel it, like a horn tangle. This cannot be undone like a tangle can.

“Quit wasting your effort to get up too. I partially paralyzed you with a nerve strike.”

“You cannot do this to me! I am a True Unicorn and you are a mere Lesser Being!”

Constable Crager came up on the run! He snapped, “I heard that! You are charged with violation of the Edict of Equality!” Staring at the ruined work, he asked, “Did he do this?”

Caramel replied, “Yes, Sir, he did. The damage is about fifty bits. Not a lot, but the vandalism is part of a larger scheme. Here is their demand complete with the threat of damage. The original is in my file entered by Judge Coldheart.

“Besides that, he was violating this protective order issued by Judge Coldheart. If you look to section three, you will find the authority to charge felony extortion in such a case as this.”

Constable Crager replied sourly, “I see it. Wish that I could call a tumbrel to haul him away. These so called Celestians are becoming a real nuisance.

“They have been stirring up anti goat problems too. Had three mobs in the last two months. One of them actually killed a goat. Goats may not be the best sorts but they are covered by the Edict of Equality and deserve better than these unicorn supremacists are giving them.”

Caramel was watching the fallen Junior Priest. “Umm, Constable, it would be a good idea to get a horn cap on the prisoner and get him into manacles. He won't stay paralyzed forever, unfortunately.”

Caramel paused, thinking back to what the constable said earlier. “You can call ahead, Sir. I had this lot equipped for Magic Net so that Houser could order supplies if he needed them. I have a mirror right here.”

She fished the Magic Net mirror out of her saddlebag and hoofed it over to the constable. Constable Crager smiled as he tapped the necessary codes into the mirror.

He briefly filled in the police station on the situation and requested, “Right. 318 Mane Street. An open tumbrel. The prisoner has been temporarily disabled by a known Han Fu expert.”

Soon the prison wagon arrived and Houser's unicorns from his work crew helped to load Hillbury and secure him for transport through the center of town to the jail.

They were just getting ready to quit for the evening when a black and blotchy pink pinto pony in a suit and carrying a briefcase showed up.

He offered a card. “I am Partin Cumpny. I have been retained by the Celestian Church to represent them. I have been instructed to require you to pay your agreed upon freewill gift to the Church and further to drop all charges against Junior Priest Hillbury.”

Caramel smiled but only with her mouth. “Apparently they forgot to mention a few things and misrepresented another.

“First, I have a protective order against the Church and its membership for direct threats to the business that I am starting.

“Secondly, in the protective order, in part three, the so-called freewill gift of 100 golden bits a month to be given for the purpose of “preventing certain disaster” is specifically defined by Judge Coldheart as criminal extortion.

“Thirdly, the junior priest in question, not only made the same criminal demand that you just did, he committed direct vandalism of my work site when he was refused. Along with that, he violated the protective order, and the Edict of Equality.”

Mister Cumpny took the time to look over Caramel's paperwork. Sourly, he tried, “You caused the junior priest paralysis, incapacitated his horn, and caused major embarrassment to both him and his Church.”

Caramel reminded him, “He reared up and used his magic to vandalize my new shop's layout work. I used a Han Fu cross punch to knock him off his feet, a high nerve pressure thrust to temporarily paralyze his legs, and a pair of nerve pokes that are specific to unicorns. Those paralyze the nerves controlling the magic flow in the horn.

“Those actions were all in specific defense of both my work site and my contractor's work crew.

“The removal by tumbrel was the work of and at the request of the officer in charge of the case.”

Frustrated, he demanded, “Why didn't you change into a wolf and rend him?”

Caramel sat and put a hoof over her eyes. “Are you really that stupid? This is Equestria. It is a land ruled by mostly just laws. There are always idiots who try one way or another to end the rule of honest law. Most of them are lawyers. Ones like you.

“I did not turn into a wolf and rend him because we have laws that will do it far better and without giving anypony the excuse to try harming another.

“You know. Laws. Supposedly what you make your living by upholding. Go away. You make me ill to my stomach. And I AM a werewolf.”

Mister Cumpny, having done his legal duty, left.

Caramel serenely trotted towards home. She was greeted at the Everfree Forest edge by members of the Stone Ridge wolf pack. There followed the usual bit of butt sniffing and other greetings. She indicated her saddlebags and ran swiftly for home!

She got to the door before any of the pack. Inside, she shed the saddlebags and called, “Going to play, Mom! Back after full dark!”

She returned to the front yard and joyfully joined the waiting pack. They ran through the underbrush in almost ghostly silence, seeking the scent of prey.

Totally refreshed by her outing, Caramel returned to the cottage that had been her home for all of her young life. The front door was broken in. She overheard the ugly gangrenous green pony demanding, “You just keep your hooves to yourself, Ma'am! That crossbow across the room will take you down along with your precious deadly monster of a daughter.

“We are going to destroy the beast and collect the reward for its head!”

Caramel waited silently to see if they would say more. She already had everypony in the cottage located by the sound of heartbeats and breathing.

Stort snorted, “Hortimer gonna reward us royal for the brute's head! We got it this time. It gotta come in through that door and that is when we takes it out!”

Caramel skulked in utter silence around to the back of the house. Her room window was open, as usual. Sniffing carefully, she spotted the scent of gang green, whoever, he was. Then she saw it. A thread was stretched across the open window. Checking carefully, she found the crossbow that it was attached to the trigger of.

She returned to the front, where the nervous and trigger happy ponies were holding her mom and Nurse Fields. Sitting out of sight of the damaged door, she leaned back and aimed her muzzle to the sky. The long howl that she let out had an almost unearthly timbre. It shivered and slid up and down a scale that no pony voice could hope to match.

Her call was replied to from several directions by the wolves of the Stone Ridge pack. They all converged on her. She signaled them to silence and led them to the cottage. She let them know of the dangers inside and gestured to the only path leading to Ponyville and safety. The wolves fanned out silently to lay their hunting trap.

Caramel lunged in, nearly flat to the floor! Hitting a brace with her forepaws she vaulted upward to strike the cottage wall, up high and rebound down from above and behind the green pony!

Her strike carried him from his feet! His crossbow went off as it hit the floor! The wildly flying bolt grazed Stort, leaving a bleeding wound!

In a panic, the blue pony dropped his weapon for greater speed as he fled up the trail! In only moments they heard the ghastly scream of a pony in mortal agony! It stopped abruptly.

The green pony, laying on the floor could not rise. Caramel had nerve punched him to keep him down. He did weep.

“You killed Stort! He was my brother! You murdered him!”

Caramel put a huge paw on his head. “No, we did not. You and your schemes to kill me for some imaginary reward got him killed.

“If he had stayed here, he would be, like you, still alive. He ran, like the coward that he was, abandoning you to the so called monster that has spared your life. Twice now, unless I have missed my count. That does not count your stupid business at the School.

“This time, I am afraid that I cannot overlook your plans to kill my mother and Nurse Fields, to silence the witnesses, along with the attempt to murder me. I will press charges. Mom will press charges and so will Nurse Fields. I want you to go down hard!”

Out of the darkness came the flickering flare of torches. “Halloo the house! Is aught well here? We ha' seen a blue pony dead by the trail. Wolves, it wa' seem, took him down.”

Caramel stepped to the door and replied, “We are all alive and uninjured. The house has been damaged and will need professional repair of door, frame and some connected masonry.

“The green pony inside, and the blue one that you found, broke into the house. They took Brightmane and Nurse Fields prisoner. Their plan, which they whispered and I overheard, was to murder me and take my head while making mother watch. Then they were going to rape and murder mom and Nurse Fields to get rid of the witnesses.

“According to what I heard, High Priest Hortimer of the Celestian Church has put a bounty on my head but only to be paid if I am dead.”

Grimly, Heather Bloom, Duchess of Red Hoof, replied, “We did wonder at the fallen. Fer he wa' taken by the wolves but nay preyed upon beyond the killin' o him.”

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#CARAMEL TREAT'S SWEETS #Part 2 of 4 #MLP Fan Fiction #Caramel Treat - werewolf #Written by De Writer

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jobbmaroc · 4 years

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How To Become Debt-Free As Quickly As Possible

Whether it’s your automobile loan, home loan, student loan or MasterCard bills, living in debt isn’t easy in the least. the value isn’t just limited to some brands that you simply need to repay, but mental and emotional stress to that's probably keeping you awake in the dark . And once you believe the life that you simply are dreaming about, all you would like for is to be debt-free as soon as possible. But here’s the thing: Once you get your priorities straight and be determined to pay off that debt as soon as possible, all you would like to try to do is form an idea of action that you simply would stick with until you're debt-free.

Here are 11 Tips to urge you started on a debt-free life:

1. Set your financial goals, long-term also as short term – Where does one see yourself standing next month, next year and five years from now? you would like to possess a solution for these questions so as to urge started. Setting your financial goals helps you determine your priorities. Once you get your financial goals in situ, everything else must work round the same. If you’re sitting on 100 grands of loan and your goal is to be ready to repay 10% of it by next month, every aspect of your life should revolve around it until you achieve that goal. hand overeating at a restaurant for a month if need be, resort to bulk buying the necessities for a short time to save lots of every penny that you simply can and take conveyance rather than driving yourself to figure in your car. Remember, that short term goals when accomplished will get your long-term financial goals so as.

Similarly, if saving enough money for your child’s education is what you would like to realize within the long-run (besides repaying the debt), stop pocket money on things that will wait or just resort to inexpensive options. Buy a two-wheeler rather than a car or postpone purchasing a household item you don’t need immediately. Whatever your goals are, it’s important to never lose sight of them to possess a far better financial life.

2. Make a budget and live by it – Having a allow your everyday needs keeps your expenses in restraint. Small allowances sort of a cup of coffee at work or a family movie date once a month also can form a neighborhood of your budget so you don’t hand over on enjoyment altogether. Budgeting is some things that you simply must do even once you are debt-free because it helps you reside a financially organized life besides preventing unnecessary expenses.

3. Discuss your purchases (however small they are) with one another within the family – You don’t want to feel stunned by an unknown computer game purchase that your spouse made for your child. It’s important to debate your purchases before actually affecting them to rule out the likelihood of it ruining your budget. Discussing your purchases becomes all the more important when your family lives on one income. regardless of how small the purchases, it’s important to debate them with one another to catch hold of where the cash goes.

4. Live a Frugal Life regardless of what – there's little question that frugality is one thing that keeps you rich and sorted. A little step towards frugality can assist you to save pile which will repay an enormous chunk of your debt.

Being able to save lots of money on your food bill is often an enormous step towards living a frugal lifestyle as groceries account for the majority of our spending. Meal Planning is one of the foremost handy ways to save lots of money on food and stop food wastage. I always lagged behind during this area as I had no time to plan my meals until I heard of a $5 hotel plan before deciding to offer it a go. To my surprise, my food bill has reduced by half without me fixing any efforts because the job is being finished me for as low as $5.

5. Live within your means – Spending quite what you're earning is that the main reason why you'll end up in debt which is why it’s extremely important to measure within your means and spend but what you earn. If you can’t afford to shop for a luxury brand, don’t pip out for it’s enough to line you behind in your financial life. To be ready to live within your means may be a habit that we all must inculcate within ourselves, whether we are debt-free or not.

6. Learn to mention NO, to your kids and to yourself – we frequently don’t realize how we waste many on things that we don’t actually need. We impulsively get convinced by friends to travel for vacations we can’t really afford or we find yourself spending quite we actually planned to. Sometimes, unplanned expenses take over our financial goals and it’s too late before we actually happen to understand it. so as to be debt-free tomorrow, you would like to form the required sacrifices today.

7. Increase your income – so as to urge out of debt as quickly as possible, it’s important to expand your stream of income. Work extra hours until you don’t need to anymore or devour a side-hustle to contribute some extra cash. This comes with a requirement to figure harder but it'll all be worthwhile.

8. Build an Emergency Fund – The urgency to repay your debt shouldn’t rule out the need of getting an emergency fund for the uncertainties that come alongside life. Before you divulge each piece of your savings towards debt repayment, make it bound to build an emergency fund for any medical or another family emergency that may arrive. Having an emergency fund is your financial cushion against the uncertain life and it should be the primary thing that you simply build before beginning to repay the debt.

9. Stop obsessing over what your pals do – Peer pressure and an associated desire to measure an upscale life often force us to form wrong financial decisions. you're randomly scrolling through your social media feed only to catch a glimpse of your old fashioned friend vacationing at an exotic location and you can’t help but obsess over his life. Well, that’s once you got to line up of your wants and consider pocket money on things that you simply really need otherwise you are going to be driven to a life that may drown you extra into a pool of debt. specialize in what you'll afford and not what can drive you extra into debt.

10. Stop using those Credit Cards – once you are under debt, one among the foremost useful ways to stay your spending habits in restraint is to prevent using MasterCard altogether. MasterCard comes with an urge to spend money you don’t even have. Start using cash more often so as to spend wisely. If you don’t have enough cash for what you would like to shop for, skip or postpone the acquisition for a later date when you’ll have to take advantage of your hand.

11. Get an idea together on how you’ll set about repaying your debt – Here comes the part where you would like to plan your debt-repayment timeline to urge obviate it all together. The timeline so created is extremely important to stay your progress in restraint. Remember that with every point on the timeline, you're relieving touch of stress and walking ahead towards a debt-free life.

Getting out of debt is all about finding the courage to stay going. Most of all, you would like to remain motivated during your debt repayment journey so as to form it smoother for when you’ll reminisce at the large pile of debt you were sitting on yesterday, the very fact that you simply are debt-free today will make all the sacrifices worthwhile.

#Debt-Free

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imaginedmelody · 6 years

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It’s been a while since I’ve done a post purely powered by anxiety, so I apologize for being a bit stressful. But sometimes it helps to get it all out on the page and then share it, so I’m writing it out here.

I’ve spent the last several months really worried about my finances. Long-term substitute teaching didn’t exactly have me rolling in the cash, but this is the first time in almost five years that I’ve started the school year without a long-term placement (intentionally—I wasn’t looking this fall, partially because I’m considering a career change and partially for other reasons) and my finances have not recovered from the usual income drought over the summer. I mean that literally; they have not recovered at all. Usually there’s a rough period for me in September and early October as I wait for paychecks to accumulate, but now that I’m back to short-term substitute teaching, I’m finding it’s not as lucrative as it once was.

To break it down for you, I substitute teach in two different counties. Their pay schedules alternate (one pays approximately on the 15th and 30th of every month regardless of where that falls in the week; the other pays on Fridays that usually fall on the opposite weeks as county #1’s paychecks), so I am lucky in that I get a deposit pretty much every week instead of every fortnight. But I’ve worked a lot of partial-day jobs instead of full-day ones this year, and since I split my time between two counties, often I’ll work half the day in one and the rest in the other. So while I’m nominally getting paid for two weeks of work, not all of the work was done in the county that’s paying me that week. Which, ultimately, results in lower paychecks.

Put into perspective numbers-wise: each week I get, from one of these two counties, a paycheck that is about $500 if I’m lucky. I won’t put exact numbers, of course, but my highest paycheck so far this school year was somewhere around $675. The lowest was around $150 because I had worked a lot in the other county that pay period. The problem with this is that the money I earn never has a chance to accumulate, because the instant it’s deposited into my account, I have to use it to pay something that’s coming up due. My rent, for instance, is roughly one whole good-week’s paycheck (good week= $500). My car insurance is half a paycheck. My student loan bills, combined at the normal rate, are about 2/3 a paycheck. My health insurance is half to 60% of a paycheck (and premiums are likely to go up this year). What little remains is barely enough to cover gas and a few groceries. I would estimate that I need to make $1000 more per month than I’m making now just to be not at risk of going broke every month.

(A couple days ago, I went back in my online bank details to see when the last time was that I had a bank balance that actually covered everything I needed it to and that I was comfortable with. It was July 19. That was over four months ago.)

So I’m at a difficult point, because there’s no wiggle room for anything else right now. I can afford a couple things, like Christmas gifts, if they’re small and I manage my money well—but big things are an impossibility. If I get sick and need something that insurance doesn’t cover, I’m screwed. My car is old and making a weird sound and I need to take it in, but depending on what (if anything) is wrong, the servicing could cost $150, or it could cost $1500. And if it’s the latter, I can’t afford it. That’s an entire month’s worth of money or more, which is already designated since I’m operating on a paycheck-to-paycheck basis. Even the $150 is almost a quarter of a good paycheck. I can’t just pay it and recoup the loss with the next deposit, because there’s no extra money in my paychecks to catch it back up.

This is, obviously, not exactly helping my mental health. I probably wake up at least once a week in the middle of the night, and when I try to get back to sleep, I end up thinking about this and being awake for two hours turning it over in my head. I’ve thought and thought about what I can do about it, and there’s no option that’s particularly good. I adamantly refuse to ask my family for help: my sister is currently in a single-income household while her husband is in nursing school and she herself is considering a career change, so even if they offered, I would feel too terrible about taking anything from them. And my mom has severe issues with anxiety—this is the woman who gets so worked up by what she sees on the news that she heard there had been one single mugging in Dupont Circle and asked my dad how they were going to get to church from now on since it would obviously be too dangerous to walk there from the Metro anymore. The woman who, when I blew out a tire five years ago on the highway, was convinced I should stop driving on highways entirely. I would probably send her into an early grave if I talked to her about my financial issues, and I know she herself struggled with finances when I was a kid, so I don’t want to make her go through that again.

I’ve thought about getting a second job. But most part-time jobs either won’t hire me because I’m under-qualified (or, in the case of many retail/entry-level jobs, vastly over-qualified), or don’t pay enough to make the extra hours of work worth it. For example, I’ve long thought about getting a second job as a shelving assistant at the library. But they pay $11.50/hour and are hiring for 10-19 hours a week. That would give me an extra paycheck every 2 weeks, at about the size of one of my weekly paychecks now. That’s not really enough financial benefit to balance out the amount of additional time and work I’d be expending. I’d essentially be sacrificing a large chunk of my free time and getting pennies in return.

I’ve also considered the fact that in light of this, I might need to take another long-term subbing job soon if one becomes available. The problem with that is that historically, my track record with long-term teaching has been spotty. With my depression being what it is, I honestly find working full 7.5-8 hours days really difficult (even with subbing—that’s actually why, even though the partial-day jobs have been financially bad for me, they’ve been mentally really good). I have a hard time with the consistency that long-term teaching placements require, and they exhaust me and take a toll on my mental health, which creates a feedback loop of difficulty. So it’s hard to apply for those jobs knowing that they’ll tank my mental stability, which will make it hard to do what I need to do to keep that job or, in the case of long-term subbing jobs that are by nature temporary, get a better one. I’ve also applied for other types of jobs—media assistant, school secretary—hoping that I’ll get one of those and it will work out better. But none of those jobs have called me back so far.

The long and short of it is that there’s no solution right now that will be as quick or as effective as I need it to be. Longer-term work, or even a career change, will take time to achieve and even more time for the increase in pay to kick in. Plus, it could involve going back to school if I want to get qualified for a position that would really improve things for me, and obviously with things as they are, I can’t afford to go back to school. And it’s hard, honestly, to think of the long-range options when I need a short-range solution. I have student loan debt and car repair expenses and monthly payments to make now. I can worry about the five-year plan when I actually have money left after I pay my bills each month. Until then, I’m taking it day by day and hoping for a miracle.

(FYI, I did put a paypal link in the sidebar of this blog when I was struggling financially a few years ago, and I kind of never took it down even when I was doing OK. It’s still there, if the spirit moves you.)

#financial woes #depression #this post was written at 2:30 in the morning last night #but i saved it because you always want to read over stuff you vent about in the middle of the night before posting it #but this is a pretty accurate summary of my situation right now #i just kind of don't have the tools i need to advance past this point #mainly because i was operating for a while on the assumption that- like always- my finances would bounce back #but they haven't yet and it's never taken them this long before in a situation where i am actually employed #so idk what my next step is

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thought-dragon · 5 years

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Taming the elephant

I’m still trying to tame my video game addictions. My fears were realized when I cut it out, people I thought were my friends really did stop hanging out with me altogether. It’s probably a good thing my bf and I don’t play games together, now I just bother him with cute animal videos, gifs, and memes, and politics, but I think he makes it hard for me to chat online with him because we only chat on Steam, despite our computers being right next to each other. Sometimes its just easier to copy the tag and he can look at the link in his own browser instead of coming over to mine. But I’ve had to just make him look at my laptop. I think that’s the right thing to do.

So... I guess I have nothing left to lose anymore? Any relationships I’ve had before somewhat disappeared. Somewhat because a small amount of people still respond back, but the conversations aren’t good anymore. It’s just banal formalities.

But these days, I just don’t have anything nice to say about video games altogether anymore. League of Legends/Riot has a bunch of manchilds sitting in executive chairs, making women who work there feel small and unheard, and also farting into people’s faces. I’m morally righteous. Once I find out someone isn’t a good person, I just cut them out, and sometimes, it’s really hard to, especially putting all that time in and having to throw it out. My values were questioned just last night; I definitely don’t condone the way the Chinese Communist government censors information and freedom of speech. Blizzard has recently sided with its Chinese shareholders and banned a Hearthstone player and rescinded his prize money because he was supporting the movement in Hong Kong. Well, what do I do with my Blizzard games? I guess I’ll just never log into bnet anymore. But like I said, time and money was put into those games, also people -- that I don’t talk to anymore. I’m glad Bungie got out of there, because there would have went another cascade of money. It’s just awkward... Blizzard publishes a game about heroes and fighting for what’s right, diversity, and justice, however, they’re money makes them side with tyranny and suppression of opinion. If I worked there, I’d be ashamed.

It’s actually not even Blizzard. It is happening to many companies at the same time, simply because the amount of Chinese billionaires have gone up since the 2000s. The more I look into this, more the skeletons come out. The NBA, Tiffany & Co, Disney... even Apple. Apple has Chinese manufacturers, I can’t imagine them ever being able to escape. Despite their values and visions, its money talks. And money is neutral. Money has no feelings. It’s really what a person does with the money that it becomes a message.

I was actually going to make this post about me finally realizing why I’m so addicted to games, but a large chunk has become a political rant.... Well, back on topic... I’m pretty good at figuring myself out by now; I just need some paper, mind relaxing music, and a pen. And I had such a HUGE revelation. Why am I so addicted to games? My very first instance of playing a game was with Super Metroid, and I was most likely in first or second grade. I’ve been watching my brother and he let me try to my surprise. I quit the first level because I felt so anxious, scared, and frazzled to finish beating the first level let alone the entire game. It wasn’t even that hard. I just freaked out because the music and the graphics made me panic. But I tried again some later, when I was 10. We’d gotten an N64 too. I already knew I was amazing at Bust-A-Move (we didn’t have a save cartridge, but I constantly beat all 10 levels and computer AIs since it was an arcade version), and I wasn’t shy from fighting games, since button mashing was my jam. So I tried playing Super Metroid again, and after finishing the first level, I realized I did it. I freaking did it. I conquered my fear of sucking.

I can see now, that every time I play anything, its associated partially due to a confidence boost -- that’s the main reason. There’s a few other factors too such as my brain likes a good challenge, so much that I’ll dream about how to solve my problems, that gets really annoying because I want my dreams to be dreamy and good. And then the social aspect. Games are more fun with friends. But now that I don’t have those friends involved in my life as much, I feel free to really let go. And because I didn’t get positive reinforcement very often as a child, or any at all, games became my go-to escape to feel good about my sense of existence. Unconsciously, now I know, its my own self telling me that I don’t suck, I’m good at something -- video games. Even when I have a really troubling day, I’ll play a game just to make myself feel better. Sometimes it helps, especially, an rpg, or I win an mmo game like LoL. It’s weird, because upon realizing this, my life was actually defined by this. I pursued a career in video games and art because that was the second thing I submersed myself in (but a little bit less). And life didn’t take me there. Do I ask if there is a higher being watching out for me? Maybe its for the best. I couldn’t have been happy as a woman in games. I often hide my name and gender online. Even if more women play games now, its still very male dominant. It’s ...a male fantasy world. I refuse to be beneath them. I am not an inferior gender. In fact, I’m not an inferior anything.

We can call it an escape, but that’s what games are like for a lot of people who get really submerged. I knew I was escaping, but I think my perspective has since changed this morning-- to really understand why, just look deeply into your mind. It comes out wordlessly, but you need to name it to see it.

Now that I know this, I’d like to figure out a way to channel it to other means. My current checking account is not looking good at all. My oversight on my credit card and savings is really throwing me off. I can’t wait until I can really chunk down my current private loan. Then I can focus on repaying other deferred student loans. If only I could make debt a fun challenging puzzle that I just whole-hardheartedly focus on with complete abandon. Or even my comic I’ve been thinking about doing for so long.

#video games

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pllsetskyonice · 7 years

Text

just one drink

Christophe Giacometti/Victor Nikiforov

1,614 words

Victor has had enough.

It’s a Sunday night, and for the fifth week in a row, the flat above him is throwing a massive party. The music is so loud the whole block can probably hear it and Victor wouldn’t mind that they’re partying on until God knows when in the morning, but he has a 9 am lecture in the morning and he needs to sleep.

Enough is enough. They've got to turn the music down.

AO3 link

For @giacometti-week Day 3: Relationships

Victor has had enough.

He didn’t mind for the first couple of weeks of term when it was Freshers and everyone was throwing parties every single night of the week, but lectures have started now and Victor came to university to get a degree, not blow his entire student loan on nights out and alcohol and end up living off beans on toast for the rest of term.

Victor can hear people yelling “we like to drink with Chris, because Chris is our mate, because when we drink with Chris he gets it down in eight, seven, six…” upstairs and lets out a sigh. Enough is enough. They’ve got to at least turn the music down.

Victor picks up his phone and keys and heads out of his flat and up the stairs, not particularly caring that he’s wearing his pyjamas because it’s likely everyone in the flat is too drunk to notice anyway. He hammers on the door of flat number four with his fist, and after a good couple of minutes, someone comes to answer it.

“Yeah?” a bored looking girl with bright red hair says, drinking wine straight from the bottle. “Can I help you?”

“Is this your party?” he asks.

“No, it’s not,” the girl replies. “I’m only here because my girlfriend’s brother is on the same course as the guy who’s actually hosting this thing. You want to come in? I’m sure Chris won’t mind another guest.”

“Um, sure,” Victor says, stepping inside the flat. This wasn’t exactly his plan but he’s going to have to deal. The girl leads him into the kitchen, which is packed with people split into various groups, some dancing in the space near the TV, some hanging around the breakfast bar chatting, and the rest sat on the sofas or on the floor around the coffee table, obviously playing a drinking game of some kind.

“Chris!” the girl yells. “You’ve got another guest.”

One of the guys sitting on the sofa looks up and smirks when he sees Victor standing there in his pyjamas. “Not exactly dressed for a party, are you?” he asks.

“Well, no –”

“And you’ve come empty handed. How rude.”

Victor sighs. “Actually, I came up to ask if you could turn the music down. You see, I’ve got a 9 am lecture in the morning and I don’t want to miss it –”

Chris cuts him off again. “Oh come on, live a little! You’re only a first year student once, enjoy it whilst you can. Mila!” The red haired girl turns around from where she’s standing with another girl at the breakfast bar and gives Chris a questioning look. “Get this guy a drink, would you? Wait, what did you say your name was again?” Chris asks him.

“I – I didn’t. It’s Victor.”

“Alright then Victor, what do you want to drink?” Mila asks, already reaching for one of the bottles of vodka. “You want ice?”

“No, really, I can’t –”

“Nonsense,” Chris says. “If you really think we’re that boring, you can leave after one drink. And we’ll even turn the music down for you. But until then -” Mila brandishes a cup of vodka coke in Victor’s direction – “you’re staying.”

“Alright, fine, just one drink,” Victor agrees, taking the cup from Mila and having a sip. “Just the one.”

Except somewhere along the line and between the games of Ring of Fire and Twenty One and On The Bus, the one drink Victor was meant to be staying for has turned into a whole lot more. He’s sitting next to Chris, who not only throws really good parties, but is also really hot. Victor’s at least eighty percent certain Chris has been flirting with him for a good chunk of the evening as well but he doesn’t want to get his hopes up because Chris seems like the kind of guy who flirts with anyone.

Mila’s wine bottle is now long empty, and she brings it over to the coffee table with an evil glint in her eye. “I think it’s about time we make some people do things they’re probably going to regret in the morning.”

“Spin the bottle, are you fucking kidding me?” one of the guys on the other sofa snaps. “What is this, some shitty sixth form party?”

“As I recall, you’re the only one out of us that’s actually still in sixth form, Yuri,” Mila says sweetly. Yuri glowers at her. “And we’re not just playing spin the bottle, we’re playing seven minutes in heaven.”

“As though that’s any fucking better?” Yuri says, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes. “We all know you’re doing this as an excuse to fuck your girlfriend in some poor unsuspecting sod’s bedroom and make her scream so loudly we can all hear.”

“I am here, you know!” Mila’s girlfriend Sara snaps. “And it’s not Mila’s fault she’s so good.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Yuri mutters. “Can we just get on with the game already?”

“Oh, so you’re playing, then?” Mila asks as she moves everything off the coffee table and puts the bottle down in the middle of it.

“Shut the fuck up.”

Mila just grins. “Okay, I’ll start. Whoever the bottle lands on has to spend seven in minutes in heaven with me, and then we’ll move around the circle until everyone’s had a turn. If you’re iffy about you or your significant possibly kissing someone else then I suggest you sit this game out because it’s really not for you. Right, let’s go!”

Mila spins the bottle, it rotating on the table a few times until it comes to stop pointing directly at Sara. Yuri tuts and mutters something along the lines of “fucking typical” as Mila takes Sara’s hand and leads her out of the kitchen, a timer left on the table ticking down from seven minutes.

Emil and Michele are next, then Phichit and Seung-gil, then Leo and Guang Hong, followed by Yuri and Otabek. It’s now Chris’ turn, and Victor tries to will away the butterflies in his stomach as the bottle starts spinning, but all it does is make them worse.

The bottle spins and spins, Mila watching in anticipation as it starts slowing down and eventually comes to stop.

Victor.

The bottle stops on Victor.

“Looks like tonight is your lucky night,” Mila smirks. “Have fun, boys.”

Chris stands up and holds out his hand. Victor takes it and lets Chris lead him out of the kitchen and down the hall to what Victor presumes is his bedroom. It’s slightly quieter once they’re inside and Victor feels so nervous because he’s never been in any situation like this before.

Chris must have registered this, because he lets go of Victor’s hand and looks at him with a concerned look on his face. “You okay?” he asks. “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.”

“Oh, good,” Victor says, gingerly sitting down on the edge of the bed. He contemplates getting his phone out but that would just be rude so he decides against it. Chris has somehow managed to wangle himself one of the few rooms with a double bed, and it’s something that Victor’s trying not to think about and can think of nothing but at the same time.

“You got a boyfriend or girlfriend at all?” Chris asks, sitting down on the other side of the bed. Victor shakes his head. He hasn’t got a boyfriend, or girlfriend, and nor has he ever had either of them. In fact, he’s never really done much of anything in that department. Like, at all.

“You ever kissed anyone before?”

It’s a question that throws Victor off guard, and because he’s drunk and not thinking straight, he answers “No” before he’s even had chance to think about it. Chris looks kind of shocked at first, but quickly regains his composure.

“So you’re a virgin,” he says casually. “Cool. Nothing wrong with that.” He goes quiet for a moment, frowning to himself. “Would you like to? Kiss someone, I mean?”

“Yes,” Victor replies. “The opportunity has just never arisen before, that’s all.”

“Well, it’s arising now,” Chris says, shifting closer towards Victor. “If you’re up for that, of course.”

“Yes,” Victor says, and then Chris is kissing him. It’s gentle at first, soft and delicate and closed mouthed, but upon realising that he’s getting no resistance from Victor, he deepens the kiss, opening his mouth and sliding his tongue in. It’s a completely new experience, but Victor finds himself enjoying it, kissing Chris back and moving closer. If he was sober, he’d be nervous as fuck right now, but he’s not, so he kisses Chris back like it’s something he was born to do and enjoys the moment.

Time slips by and before they know where they are Mila is banging on the door, telling them their seven minutes are up. “Do we have to stop?” Victor find himself asking as Chris pulls away to answer the door.

Chris looks surprised. “You want to stay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Victor replies. “I do.”

“Alright then,” Chris says. “Mila! We’re just going to stay in here!”

“Oh, I bet you are!”

So Victor stays. Needless to say, he doesn’t make it to his 9 am.

He really doesn’t mind.

#christopheweek #giacomettiweek #christophe giacometti #yuri on ice #victor nikiforov #vichris #chrisvic #fanfic #and i'm finally caught up #yoi #chris

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rosemoonweaver · 7 years

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This is My Life

March 28, 2014 was the day my life changed forever. It was 4 am. My father was out about with his biker friends, and had been gone all day long. My mother was getting to the end of her rope. He’d done this a million times before and she had decided that when he walked through the door she was going to lay down the law. “It’s me or the alcohol,” she’d say. “Choose right now or I’m getting a divorce.”

But my father didn’t come home. Instead, she got a call from the hospital. There was an accident. She needed to get down right away. He called a neighbour and my grandma. My grandma came over to sit with me, the neighbour went with her. My brothers woke up at nine (it was a Sunday), and my grandma told them there was an accident. My mom came home. We got breakfast. We were at the hospital from 10 am to 6 pm. I saw my grandfather for the first time in five years. We were allowed to say goodbye to my father in the ICU.

My father didn’t die. He had a fractured skull, brain hemorrhaging, three broken ribs, a shattered knee, a broken pallet and several missing teeth, a chunk ripped out of his arm, and a collapsed lung. He was lucky. God, was he lucky. He was on his bike, speeding when he fell asleep at the wheel. He wasn’t wearing a helmet. He crashed through three concrete barriers and landed in a field 100 feet from the site. His body temp was dangerously low. It took an hour after the estimated time of his crash for the paramedics to find him. He was in rehab by June. He got really fucking lucky.

He has no lasting brain damage aside from some hearing loss and short-term memory loss. He has mobility issues but he can still move around and work as a mechanic. He gets frustrated with himself because he’s slower than he once was. But he’s okay.

I don’t remember March to June of that year. I have snippets, but I don’t remember it all. My days went as follows: college, hospital, home, pass out on a futon, repeat. My anxiety went through the roof. My mother finally believed I actually had anxiety and wasn’t just a worrier. After he came home, he couldn’t work. He had temporary disability insurance through work but it was half his pay. Mom couldn’t work because he needed her. We used my student loans to pay mortgage. When the deadline for disability insurance came, dad couldn’t work so he was laid off. We lost our health insurance. In between my father’s exit from the hospital and his firing, my fiance, a man I’d been with for 6 years dumped me. He wanted me to “wait for him” while he finished high school in Florida (that’s another long story). He was homeschooled. I didn’t see the point and wanted him to stay. I needed him with me. I needed the support. He left. (In hindsight, this was the best thing that happened at the time.)

I got sick in December. I thought it was just a cough. I went to the ER in February. It was Pneumonia and the day I was admitted I had been near delirious. It could have killed me. Medic-aid was a godsend.

Dad got jobs on and off. We were on food stamps and any other govt assistance we qualified for. We supplemented income with my leftover student loans. It was difficult to do. Eventually I couldn’t take the pressure. I had a massive breakdown in the Fall of 2015. My grades haven’t recovered.

Things started to get better. Mom got a job. Dad got a job. They’re not making what we used to make and life is difficult. My grandma ruined her credit. I can’t take out any more student loans. I’m not going to graduate college. I probably won’t ever go back (because my luck sucks and I know if I don’t finish now I never will). But it doesn’t matter. My anxiety makes life hard. I can’t handle most pressures. I need to get a job but I can’t because the pressure of going in and attending something every day causes panic attacks, which turns into depression, which turns into suicidal ideation, and I don’t want to find out what happens next. It seems like life is a one step forward, two steps back game for me. It’s exhausting.

Mom lost her job last month, hence why I don’t have the money to pay for doctor’s appointments. Basically, life is difficult.

This is my life. This is what I’m going through. It’s not pleasant, but it’s what I’ve got right now.

#stuff about me #mental illness for ts #suicide for ts #car accidents for ts #anxiety for ts #depression for ts #long post for ts #i've been wanting to just say this for a really long time #i didn't tell anyone i went to school with #i don't talk to anyone about this #well aside from my therapist who thinks i should talk about it #so this is me talking about it #non spn #this is the most difficult thing i've ever written

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jennifferrscott1964-blog · 6 years

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12 Steps to Protect Your Finances When Leaving an Abusive Relationship

Note: This article doesn't contain any depiction of physical or sexual violence, but does detail financial and emotional abuse in relationships.

Lisa Orban was married to her abuser for three years. In 1990, she left after he threatened to kill her and their two young children.

She was 20 years old.

Her financial situation in the marriage? “Bad, in a nutshell,” she recalls.

Not unusual for the time, her husband was the main breadwinner, and he managed the finances.

“Whenever there was a chance that I might make enough money or make more money than him or do anything to upset his financial apple cart, so to speak, he would come in and sabotage it.”

She lost multiple jobs because of his meddling.

She moved with him from her hometown in Illinois to Arizona for college, where she'd won a four-year scholarship to study psychology. Before she could start, he contacted the university and told them she'd decided to drop out.

“Imagine my surprise when I go to registration day and find out that my scholarship is gone,” she says.

He even had control of the mailbox. He took her key, though she thought she'd just lost it, and put off replacing it. That had major, unexpected financial ramifications.

“It wasn't until after we were divorced that I found out that I had not paid off my student loan.” The $4,000 loan ultimately cost her $38,000 to repay, she says.

The checks Orban thought were going into the mail were not, and the missed payment notices from her loan providers weren't getting to her.

He kept control of the checking account.

He wouldn't let her use the car alone.

He knew how much money she earned, and he would accompany her to the bank to deposit her paychecks.

He signed up for credit cards in her name.

By the time Orban left and filed for divorce, she was $80,000 in debt and didn't even know about it.

What is Financial Abuse?

About 1 in 4 women and 1 in 7 men will experience severe intimate partner violence in their lifetime, according to a Centers for Disease Control and Prevention report.

Domestic violence and abuse comes in many forms, whether it's physical, emotional, psychological or sexual - but it can also be financial. Likely, it's some mix of these, but not always all of them.

Of those who experience violence, 98% also experience financial abuse.

“Like all abuse, financial abuse takes a lot of forms, but it's all controlling behavior; power and control,” explains Casey Harden, senior vice president of Strategic Initiatives and Membership at YWCA USA. “Imagine tightening the reigns on the financial condition of the home, so that there's limited options.”

Abusive partners may leave you out of major decisions and purchase a home that's well out of your family's budget, for example. They may run up credit card debt without their partner's knowledge or input, lie about paying bills or damage valuable property.

In addition to safety concerns, victims of domestic violence often stay in abusive relationship because of a lack of financial resources.

“Many survivors, even after they've left, often return because of finances,” says Kim Pentico, director of the Economic Justice Program at the National Network to End Domestic Violence.

Michelle Kuehner, a survivor of domestic violence who is now a financial advisor and author of The Money Diet blog, explains:

“More often than not, the abuser has made the victim feel as if they are dependent upon the abuser. That without the help of the abuser, the victim could not survive financially in the world, and it is only by the grace of the abuser that the victim has a roof over their head, and food on the table.”

If you're in a bad situation, we want to do our part in empowering you to move forward.

The Penny Hoarder features a ton of content to help you understand your finances and improve your financial situation. But it can be tough to see how it pertains to you when you feel like you have zero control over your financial life.

Here, I try to put it into context.

I spoke with financial, legal and relationship experts, as well as domestic violence advocates to bring you resources, advice and action steps to prepare you to leave and recover your finances afterward.

6 Steps to Prepare Your Finances Before Leaving

“The largest hurdle you face in an abusive relationship is getting back your independence,” Kuehner says.

“Only when you take back the feeling or idea that you are not completely dependent on another can you move towards financial independence. And only then can you successfully remove yourself from that type of relationship.”

Even then, it's easier said than done.

In addition to the financial hurdles, Harden repeats a fact many of us have heard often: “Lethality for an individual and her loved ones goes up drastically when she makes the decision to leave, when she leaves and the time period following.”

That's why before you do anything, we recommend this step:

1. Connect With a Victim Advocate

Harden and other experts urge anyone trying to leave an abusive relationship to work with a victim advocate.

These people are trained and experienced, so they know how to help you plan to leave safely and quietly. They can point out potential pitfalls and let you know what major financial hurdles to expect.

How to get in touch with local advocates:

Call the National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-SAFE (7233) or TTY: 1-800-787-3224. The national hotline can get you in touch with an organization in your area.

Statewide advocacy groups can also connect you with local advocates.

Your local YWCA has resources to fight domestic violence, including shelters and services around the country.

We have additional recommendations for your financial health, but can't tell you what's best or what's safe for your situation.

You're the best at assessing your own safety, so listen to your own instincts, work with an advocate and only consider these steps if you know it's safe.

2. Save Money

“Be sure you have liquid funds held in an account in your name only,” says Allison Alexander, a financial advisor at Savant Capital Management. She also recommends having credit cards in your name alone.

Allstate's financial empowerment curriculum includes advice on how to build a solid financial foundation, including places where you could find loans.

If you don't have access to a loan, see if there are other ways to secure money for yourself that your partner doesn't have access to.

Here are some creative ways to make extra money:

25 Ways to Make Money in the Next Hour

50 Side Jobs to Help You Make an Extra $500 or More This Month

19 Ways to Earn an Extra $100

15 Smart Ways to Make Money in the Next 24 Hours

You can also keep an eye out for influxes of cash your partner doesn't know about or have access to.

“A lot of survivors … wait until that tax return comes, and that's a nice little chunk to get started on,” Pentico says.

A bonus at work may be a similar lifeline.

You may be able to work with the human resources department at work to automatically deposit part of your paycheck into a separate bank account.

Catherine Scrivano, a Phoenix–based financial planner, says HR may also be able to help you make an adjustment to your W-4 to help you receive more money with each paycheck that you can save or invest throughout the year.

3. Make Copies of Important Documents

“Make copies of all financial documents you can find, e.g., tax returns, bank statements, investment statements, mortgage/loan information, car titles, paystubs, etc.,” Alexander says.

You can simply snap a picture of these documents with your phone and email it to a friend. Or store them in a cloud drive that you - and only you - can access from anywhere, like Google Drive.

4. Cut Ties and Open a New Bank Account

Before opening your own account, Harden recommends, you'll need a new mailing address - a P.O. box could work - and an email address your partner doesn't know about.

Harden also suggests you contact your bank to update your account's security questions, if your partner already has access to an account in your name.

“Your husband of 10, 15 years probably knows the answers to most of your security questions,” she points out, “especially if he's been actively working to know them.”

She says you can tell your bank the question you want to use. You don't have to stick with a default question your partner might know the answer to.

If you can, set up separate accounts your partner doesn't know about, or at least can't access.

Also, “remove your personal items from a safe deposit box if it is held jointly,” Alexander says. And “establish your own safe deposit box at another bank and place your financial documents and sentimental items, including jewelry, pictures (or) valuables there.”

5. Find a Financial Advisor

“Find a supportive financial advisor, therapist and friends who will encourage you during the bleak times and celebrate your successes,” Scrivano recommends.

If you have the resources to hire a professional financial advisor - who works for you alone, not you and your partner together - great.

If you can't afford to work with a professional, utilize your local library or Parks and Recreation department for resources. It may have financial literacy classes, support groups and literature to help you.

Even financially-savvy friends and family can offer advice.

Pentico often tells survivors, “There's somebody in your life, more than likely, that seems to know what's going on when it comes to money and finances, whether it's a co-worker or a family member. Reach out to them.”

6. Find an Attorney

When Kuehner was preparing to divorce her abusive husband, she started by meeting with attorneys.

“I scheduled appointments to meet with all of the best attorneys in town. … All in all, I had meetings with over 85% of the local lawyers in a matter of a couple of weeks…

“If I had an introductory meeting with a particular attorney, my ex-husband wouldn't be able to use them. It could be considered a conflict of interest. … By narrowing his options, and forcing him to use a less-experienced professional, I gained some ground in the divorce.”

California-based family law expert Amey Telkikar confirmed this tactic, though called it “unsavory” for typical situations.

“An in-person meeting going over the circumstances almost certainly will (include confidential information), resulting in a conflict of interest. A lawyer may still represent the other spouse, but only with the informed written consent of both spouses,” Telkikar explained.

He recommended, “It is in the best interest of a spouse to consult at least one reputable attorney as soon as they suspect or learn of a possible filing for divorce.”

If you don't have money to hire a lawyer or don't feel safe conducting this kind of business on your own, a victim advocate can help you discover the resources available to you.

6 Steps to Rebuild Your Finances After Leaving

Unfortunately, Lisa Orban didn't make a plan to leave her abuser. She did what she pointed out many survivors do:

“Most abused women do not 'plan' their escape, they run blindly for their lives when the situation reaches deadly levels, and then pick up the pieces afterward,” Orban explains.

“If you have a golden opportunity to escape, that's generally what people do,” Orban adds.

“They look for a moment - a credit card left unattended, a check that unexpectedly arrives that you somehow got access to, a Christmas bonus from your work that your spouse doesn't know about,” Orban says. “These are things you look at, and you go, 'This is it. This is my chance.'”

When you see that opportunity, she said, “You grab it and you go.”

And then what?

Once you've left and you're safe, your greatest financial hurdle may be not knowing what you're working with.

Start by figuring that out.

1. Get a Copy of Your Credit Report

Nearly everyone I spoke with recommended one simple, important first step to rebuilding your finances: Get a copy of your credit report.

If you haven't had control of your finances for years, you may have no idea what state they're in. To create a rebuilding plan, you have to first know what you're dealing with.

Do you have credit card debt?

Is an unpaid mortgage in your name?

Are you behind on medical bills?

Your credit report will give you this information.

How to get a free copy of your credit report:

Contact the three major credit reporting bureaus to get a free copy from each. They're legally required to give you a free credit report once every 12 months. This FTC guide explains how to request your report.

Get your credit score and “credit report card” from Credit Sesame. This website breaks down exactly what's on your credit report in layman's terms, how it affects your score and how you might address it. (Note: We sometimes partner with this company, but Credit Sesame did NOT pay to be mentioned in this post.)

Your credit history can affect a lot of what you do going forward.

Someone will likely pull it when you apply for an apartment, mortgage, vehicle loan or credit cards, before hiring you for a job or opening a new bank account. It'll affect how much you pay to rent a car or get a new cell phone. It could even affect your car insurance rates.

Once you know what's in your credit history, you can figure out how to fix it.

2. Find Resolution on Lingering Debts

Harden recommends resolving the debts you find on your credit report as soon as possible.

“Close out the relationship with the credit union and close out all the loans and be done, so the relationship is over, period,” she says.

Closing accounts and making agreements to eliminate debt quickly may not be your greatest financial option, Harden says, but these steps help you cut ties with your abuser, which is still vital.

Your credit report should show you which creditors you're dealing with. Reach out to them directly and ask what you need to do to eliminate those debts.

Scrivano points out a divorce agreement isn't enough to get you out of debts you shared with your partner. For example, even if the agreement says credit card debt is your ex's responsibility, the creditor doesn't know - or care.

You'll likely have to take further action to clear your name, she explains. Contact your creditors to determine exactly what needs to be done - and what, in the end, is your responsibility.

“Hold your advocate accountable for that kind of thing,” Scrivano says, referring to your financial or legal advisors. They should know your divorce agreement's reach and advise you accordingly.

To prevent your ex from building new debt in your name, Telkikar recommends placing a 90-day fraud alert with the major credit bureaus. That way, businesses must verify your identity before issuing credit in your name.

To initiate a fraud alert with one of the bureaus:

Experian fraud alert center

Place a fraud alert with TransUnion

Equifax alerts online

You only have to place an initial fraud alert with one bureau. It will contact the others, the FTC explains. You can renew the alert after 90 days as often as you need.

3. Create a New Budget

Next, Harden says, a survivor has to spend time “learning to budget in the new reality, whatever that new reality is.”

With control over your finances, you can set up new savings and investing plans to “become proactive about having full ownership over (your) finances,” not just reactive to your situation.

“There's financial stability, and then there's financial vitality,” she explains.

Without the internet to teach her, Orban learned how to manage her budget through trial and error. She always kept a detailed budget.

“I ended up itemizing my life on a day-to-day basis and seeing how much I had coming in and how much, realistically, I had to pay out to function in a normal way,” she says.

Read our tips on how to budget if you've never done it before:

Follow this easy 14-day plan to get control of your money.

Watch out for these five common budgeting mistakes

Use this free spreadsheet template to create a new budget for your family.

If all else fails, here's how to make a budget when you hate budgeting.

4. Rebuild Your Credit

Even if you have damaged credit, you're not doomed.

“Since my credit had been damaged a bit, I wanted to rebuild that as well,” Kuehner explains. “Taking out share secured loans … was the easiest way I knew. Within a year and a half my credit had been repaired.”

With a secured loan, she explains, “the bank freezes a specified amount of money in your account until payments are made. Each payment frees up the same amount of principal.”

A secured credit card is a similar way to build or repair your credit,

It's similar to a debit card - you put down a cash deposit and can use that amount in credit.

Unlike a debit card, secured cards report your payment, balance and other relevant behavior to credit bureaus. So it's a way to establish a credit history if yours is shot or nonexistent.

Read more tips for rebuilding your credit:

What It Feels Like to Declare Chapter 7 Bankruptcy, and How to Recover From It

How This Guy Raised His Credit Score 234 Points in 7 Months

The Insane Story of a Family Who Paid Off $45K in Debt in 10 Months

5. If You Need to, Find a New Job and Housing

If your abuser didn't allow you to keep a job, the effect can ripple beyond your lack of control in the relationship.

“It could interrupt a work history,” Harden points out, “or prevent a work history from ever developing in such a way that an employer would find the candidate to be compelling as a potential employee.”

If you've lost your job, read these tips:

I Just Lost My Job. Here's How I'm Surviving Unemployment

5 Unusual Job-Hunting Tactics That Actually Worked

Avoid These Common Job-Hunting Mistakes

“Your local domestic violence program has relationships with community resources, so while they may not provide (job placement) themselves, they certainly have built partnerships and relationships with those who do, so to reach out to them,” Pentico advises.

Community colleges can also be a great resource for job placement.

If you want to go back to school, you can even find scholarships specifically for survivors of domestic violence.

If your relationship has forced you to take a break from the workforce, but you don't want to return to college, you might be able to ease back in through a return-to-work internship.

If you're able to live with friends or family to cut expenses and save for a while, go for it.

If you're ready to find your own place (or not ready, but need to, anyway), here are some tips for getting the best deal out of your next rental.

On a positive note, Kuehner adds, “Replacing household items can be done fairly reasonably as well. Social media sites have 'online garage sale' postings, and you can pick up items really cheap. Hitting the Goodwill and other thrift stores are a great idea too. You can find some great treasures at rock-bottom prices.”

6. Prepare for Financial Success

The final step is refocusing on financial vitality, Harden says.

What does a thriving, successful life look like for you? Is there a business you need to reclaim, a career you need to start over or education you need to finish?

If you're relying on financial support from loved ones, these 13 steps could help you cut the cord.

Focusing on financial independence will take you from reacting to a bad situation to being proactive about your own success.

And remember, you don't have to go through it again.

Remember going forward, “Being in a relationship, regardless if married or not, does not mean you have to commingle all funds,” Kuehner says.

“I am a huge proponent of a mine, yours and ours type of finance. It is a simple technique, but can have enormously positive effects,” she explains.

To maintain financial independence and vitality in the future, know you don't have to relinquish control to your partner. Early on, negotiate a split of resources and financial responsibilities that satisfies and respects both of your needs.

Starting Over

Now, Orban is retired and has been writing about her experiences for three years.

Her first book, “It'll Feel Better When It Quits Hurting,” is a memoir of her life before leaving her ex-husband.

Her second will cover how she rebuilt her life after leaving.

Since 1990, Orban remarried and divorced her second husband. She has five children altogether, and one grandchild. One son is in college, one is still in high school and the rest are grown.

She eventually went back to college and earned her associate degree in psychology.

Healing emotionally and financially took a lot of time and work. But a small epiphany late one night made her realize she could do it.

“(I realized) I didn't have to wait for time to heal all wounds. I could make steps and go forward and go, 'I am in control of my life now - me - and I can make these changes.'”

If you or anyone you know needs help, contact the National Domestic Violence Hotline to speak with an advocate or be connected with someone in your area: 1-800-799-SAFE (7233) / TTY: 1-800-787-3224

Dana Sitar (@danasitar) is a staff writer at The Penny Hoarder. She's written for Huffington Post, Entrepreneur.com, Writer's Digest and more, attempting humor wherever it's allowed (and sometimes where it's not).

The Penny Hoarder Promise: We provide accurate, reliable information. Here's why you can trust us and how we make money.

This was originally published on The Penny Hoarder, which helps millions of readers worldwide earn and save money by sharing unique job opportunities, personal stories, freebies and more. The Inc. 5000 ranked The Penny Hoarder as the fastest-growing private media company in the U.S. in 2017.

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recentanimenews · 6 years

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My Hero Academia: Two Heroes Is Fun And Full Of Punches

In My Hero Academia: Two Heroes, All Might, Midoriya, and most of his classmates find themselves on I Island, a man-made island that is host to the top scientists in the world. Why they got there doesn't really matter, and the movie assumes that you'll forget the reasons about four seconds after they're briefly explained. The most important thing is that a decent chunk of them are there, and they're ready to play off of one another. That's one of My Hero Academia's greatest strengths: it's so pleasant to watch all of the U.A. High Students interact. It's what keeps the show afloat when you get tired of the "I don't know if I can fight that hard--oh wait, I can" sequences, and villains that all seem to repeat the same "heroes aren't real heroes and/or justice" mantra.

So, it's good to be able to say that My Hero Academia: Two Heroes, once it gets some of the expositional beats out of the way, is mostly the students interacting and then beating the crap out of villains and robots in a cycle that I could watch forever.

However, I can't really explain the movie without explaining the theater situation that I was in. I did not expect it to be THAT packed. Yes, My Hero Academia is very popular in North America, but to put it plainly, I've never had to wonder where I could sit during an anime movie before. And the entire U.S. My Hero Academia fanbase didn't just all apparently flock to one theater in eastern North Carolina--they were all very, very excited to be there, too. People cheered whenever favorite characters appeared (hearing an entire theater yell out in joy when best boy Tenya Iida charges in is a transcendent experience), and when the movie was over, they applauded. If anything, My Hero Academia: Two Heroes wins the Academy Award for Best Iida Entrance. I'm so dang proud of him.

Usually, you get kind of annoyed when a theater is crowded, but everyone there was so happy that I couldn't feel anything but grateful to be a part of it. Also, at one point, All Might unleashed a "Carolina Smash" and the crowd reacted like he'd just announced that he was eliminating student loan debt in real life. It was beautiful.

Now, is My Hero Academia: Two Heroes a good movie? It depends on what you're looking for. If you're looking for a movie-level event, something that feels bigger and more game-changing than anything that you've seen in the show before, you won't find it here. The film takes place between the second and third seasons of the TV anime, and as you probably know, Season 3 involves the paramount fight between All Might and All For One. Two Heroes never has any moments as emotionally impactful as that. The movie is surprisingly light on sad backstories or poignant moments, and even the final reveal that caps off a major character's arc is just sort of cute.

However, if you're looking for a movie that distills the lighter parts of My Hero Academia into one flick that both fans and newcomers will enjoy, Two Heroes does its job soooo well. The film is a little over ninety minutes, but after the first act, the movie kicks into high gear and never slows down, so it feels way shorter. A main goal of the heroes is to get to the top of a large tower, so it forces the characters to keep moving at all times, and even when they have to stop, chat, and get some story out of the way, you only get the bare minimum before they go back to running and pummeling.

Again, like the reasons for how the heroes came together on the island, the film doesn't really care about the motivations of the major players. You root for the good guys, hate the bad guys, and sympathize with the people in-between, and this simplicity actually feels refreshing when you compare Two Heroes to where the anime is currently at. Not that the anime has gotten stale; it's actually anything but. It's just that seeing Midoriya, All Might, Bakugo and Todoroki score definitive Good vs Evil victories really makes you appreciate how the show itself has played with the superhero genre.

In that way, Two Heroes almost provides an alternate path for My Hero Academia, one that isn't concerned in the slightest with the intricacies of heroes and villains or the universe that they inhabit, and instead focuses on just how fun it is to watch good guys Detroit Smash bad guys into oblivion. It's the pure popcorn entertainment version of My Hero, dropping any of the weightiness and instead embracing jokes and punches at every opportunity.

If you don't like My Hero Academia, Two Heroes won't change your mind. Heck, Two Heroes is probably what most people that won't give the series a chance envision in their heads when they think of it. But for fans of the show, it allows you to just kind of hang out with these awesome characters. The whole film is based around a summer vacation, and that's a pretty apt way to describe Two Heroes. You go in, you have fun, and then you leave when fall comes around and you need to watch Midoriya and Bakugo go back to feeling angsty all the time.

Also, there's a Godzilla-shaped monster hero in Two Heroes called "Godzillo." So I look forward to the spinoff "My Hero Godzillo" any day now.

REVIEW ROUNDUP

+ The characters are as fun as ever, and if you dig the American voice cast, they're doing top-notch work here

+ Action never really lets up, so it kind of becomes a My Hero Academia version of The Raid

+ You can jump in without any knowledge of the show or its universe

+ Godzillo

+/- If you're looking for something thoughtful and cerebral, this isn't it

- New, original movie characters are all very bland

- Desperately needs more Godzillo

-----

Daniel Dockery is constantly going Plus Ultra on his Twitter.

By: [email protected]

#Anime #News #Latest in Anime News by Crunchyroll!

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bloginstantmooncollector-blog · 6 years

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Car insurance LUDICROUS! whats happening ?

"Car insurance LUDICROUS! whats happening ?

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